Difference between revisions of "Logs:On That Gay Shit"

From X-Men: rEvolution
(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Ion, Sarah, Steve | summary = But you gonna have to ''fight'' Ryan for ''king'' of them gay-ass stars. | gamedate = 2019-10-12 | gamedatename = |...")
 
 
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| location = [[Evolve Cafe]]
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| location = <NYC> [[Chimaera Arts]] - Dumbo
| categories = Ion, Sarah, Steve, Evolve Cafe, Mutants, Mutates
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| categories = Ion, Sarah, Steve, Chimaera Arts, Mutants, Mutates
| log = Fall, it seems, has finally... well, fallen. Just in time for the spoopiest month of the year! Inside Chimaera, things either have been (or are in the middle of being) Appropriately Decorated. Someone teleports from rafter to rafter near the ceiling, hanging decorations; a group of radically colored punks discuss costume ideas from a set of couches; and Sarah sits quietly curled up in a chair, brow furrowed as she looks over an 'Art Schools of New York' pamphlet that she's picked up from somewhere.
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| log =This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. /Unlike/ most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters.
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The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit.
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Fall, it seems, has finally... well, fallen. Just in time for the spoopiest month of the year! Inside Chimaera, things either have been (or are in the middle of being) Appropriately Decorated. Someone teleports from rafter to rafter near the ceiling, hanging decorations; a group of radically colored punks discuss costume ideas from a set of couches; and Sarah sits quietly curled up in a chair, brow furrowed as she looks over an 'Art Schools of New York' pamphlet that she's picked up from somewhere.
  
 
She dressed for the changing weather, as much as she can be with her limited wardrobe. Galaxy pattern leggings peek through where her jeans, covered in drawings of Steven Universe characters, have worn through at the knees. An oversized black hoodie nearly swallows her, over a baby blue and pink flannel shirt, that ''then'' covers a white t-shirt that reads 'Crystal Queer' with a repeating pattern of small quartz crystals. Her purple canvas messenger bag and sunshine yellow converse are haphazardly pushed under the chair. (She's not going to curl up in someone else's chair with her ''shoes on'', she's not an animal.)
 
She dressed for the changing weather, as much as she can be with her limited wardrobe. Galaxy pattern leggings peek through where her jeans, covered in drawings of Steven Universe characters, have worn through at the knees. An oversized black hoodie nearly swallows her, over a baby blue and pink flannel shirt, that ''then'' covers a white t-shirt that reads 'Crystal Queer' with a repeating pattern of small quartz crystals. Her purple canvas messenger bag and sunshine yellow converse are haphazardly pushed under the chair. (She's not going to curl up in someone else's chair with her ''shoes on'', she's not an animal.)

Latest revision as of 19:32, 8 November 2019

On That Gay Shit
Dramatis Personae

Ion, Sarah, Steve

2019-10-12


But you gonna have to fight Ryan for king of them gay-ass stars.

Location

<NYC> Chimaera Arts - Dumbo


This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. /Unlike/ most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters.

The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit.

Fall, it seems, has finally... well, fallen. Just in time for the spoopiest month of the year! Inside Chimaera, things either have been (or are in the middle of being) Appropriately Decorated. Someone teleports from rafter to rafter near the ceiling, hanging decorations; a group of radically colored punks discuss costume ideas from a set of couches; and Sarah sits quietly curled up in a chair, brow furrowed as she looks over an 'Art Schools of New York' pamphlet that she's picked up from somewhere.

She dressed for the changing weather, as much as she can be with her limited wardrobe. Galaxy pattern leggings peek through where her jeans, covered in drawings of Steven Universe characters, have worn through at the knees. An oversized black hoodie nearly swallows her, over a baby blue and pink flannel shirt, that then covers a white t-shirt that reads 'Crystal Queer' with a repeating pattern of small quartz crystals. Her purple canvas messenger bag and sunshine yellow converse are haphazardly pushed under the chair. (She's not going to curl up in someone else's chair with her shoes on, she's not an animal.)

"{Yooo little quetzal}!" Ion's BOOMING bass of a voice is distinctive and easy to catch even in the cavernous warehouse. He is INCOMING in Sarah's direction, bounding straight over a large papier-mâché puppet of a somewhat mechanical-looking person lying partially disassembled in an unwieldy large heap on the floor. He kicks a milk crate nearer her chair, drops down onto it, his chin jerking toward her jeans. "All over I see them cartoon. No idea where it from, you tell me, huh?" His own clothing is much less colorful, just plain faded blue jeans and sturdy black boots, a grey and white flannel worn underneath his beaten up Mongrels cut. He has a large plastic Tupperware of some sort of spicy fragrant stew in his hands that now he rests in his lap, tearing a hunk from a large crust of bread to dip in in the soup. "Is a game, a show, is it good?"

Sarah's head jerks up at the Sudden Loud Voice, eyes wide and startled, but she's giggling behind her hands by the time Ion has settled near her, pamphlet forgotten in her lap. "Hi! It's a show called Steven Universe!" She points to the titular character below her left knee, her voice ramping with excitement. "He's this kid who's half-human, half-alien. The aliens are called Gems and named after gemstones, so Steven lives with Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl, and together they protect the world!" The pointing hand moves, doing it's job as it points to a tall square woman wearing gauntlets, a small woman with a whip, and a slim woman with a spear. "The whole show is as queer as rainbows!" Sarah exclaims with a wide smile. "Like for real queer, there was a whole wedding between two female-presenting gems. It's such a good show. Once you get past the first ten episodes."

Her gaze curiously drops to the bowl Ion has once she's done explaining. "What's that?" she asks, leaning a small bit closer to see.

Steve has just arrived, but is already at work, carrying a stack of empty sterilite tubs (all labelled 'Halloween', 'Spookery', or variations on that theme) in to return to the storage room. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, blue jeans, and combat boots, all liberally splattered with paint, and whether by intention or accident he drifts over toward Ion and Sarah just as she's explaining how queer the show under discussion is. "Hey," he says, waving. His eyes dart to the pamphlet in Sarah's hand. "May I join you?"

"Steven Universe." Ion echoes this with a Very Earnest nod, as though committing it to memory. "What, a cartoon show? Like for kids? They putting that queer shit in kid show?" His eyes have widened, a brighter glee in his voice. It only grows more animated as Steve approaches; he's bouncing slightly where he sits, one foot tapping jittery up and down. "You hear this shit, yo? In kids shows! You on that gay shit now, yeah? Them littlesharks they say you are. You seen this?" He's waving his bread with some excitement towards Sarah's jeans. Then a moment later, offering the bread and the Tupperware both out towards Sarah in offering. "This shit? Issa cow. Stew. Got some pepper, some onion, some --" He shrugs, just proffering the container to, apparently, let the spicy beef stew speak for itself.

Sarah unintentionally mimics Ion, bouncing in her seat as she enthusiastically nods. "So much queer in this kids show," she affirms, just as gleefully. Looking up at Steve's question, there is the smallest! hint of pink in her cheeks as she offers him a smile. "Of course you can sit with us, new bisexual icon Steve Rogers." She leans forward to tear off her own chunk of bread, asking "Have you seen Steven Universe?" before scooping a bit of stew right into her mouth. There's a small squeak as the spice hits her, the flush in her face growing far more noticeable as she almost wiggles in her seat. Still, she says from behind her hands, "S'good!"

Steve's eyes go wide at Ion's question(s). He opens his mouth and closes it again. Looks down at the stew as Ion abruptly changes the topic. Then back up at Ion. Then to Sarah's jeans, his cheeks flushing slightly. Then finally back to Ion. "I haven't seen the show, though I think I heard its name bounced around. I had no idea they were including queer...topics in children's programs, and I take it this is not common, even now?" His eyebrows lift up as he takes a seat on the arm of a nearby couch. "And I hope you both realize that I was bisexual before yesterday?" There's a faint, teasing smile on his lips here.

"Good right?" Ion beams at the praise to the stew. He bounces to his feet to offer bread and stew both towards Steve now, too. "I made it of course it's good." His brows just hike up at Steve's last comment. "What? Who say you were. Can't be no bisexual icon if nobody know it." He dismisses this nonsense with a click of his tongue against his teeth which is nearly immediately followed by a wider grin and a delighted gush: "But you gonna have to fight Ryan for king of them gay-ass stars. Only this morning already someone try and knock his damn teeth out over this. Your fans, man, they don't come to play." A brief flit of frown follows this, a suddenly curious: "You ain't fucking him, yeah? They was convinced."

Sarah nods along at Steve's question, answering once her mouth is no longer full of food. "It's becoming more common, but Steven Universe is definitely the show that's setting the bar. I think you should watch it. Steven has a shield that he throws around just like you do!" Leaning over enough that it looks like she may tumble right out of her chair, she tugs her bag out from underneath it, sits waaay back up once she has it. "I agree with Ion, you can't be an icon if you aren't out. But now you are, and Tumblr loves you even more than before," she informs Steve matter-of-factly, while digging through the black hole that seems to be her bag. How does she lose things in one giant pocket? Her emerging giggles at the mental image of Ryan Black with the most queer crown she can picture quickly fade as Ion continues. "Is he okay?" is her worried response, pausing in her search, before she flushes again at the final question. Curiously glances at Steve from the corner of her eye.

"I -- suppose you're right?" Steve sounds uncertain on this point. "I don't feel like I really need to be king of -- anything, to be honest. I'm content with Captain." His face pales. "I'm afraid I'm not very surprised, but still..." He nods at Sarah. "I hope he isn't hurt." His blush returns almost as quickly as it had worn off. "I -- no, we're -- I'm not. He's a dear friend, that's all." And then he blushes even harder, but instead of explaining he just peels off a chunk of bread crust and dips it into the stew for a taste. Then nods, gives Ion a thumbs up.

"Tumblr? You gay on tumblr, too?" Ion frowns intently at Steve. "How many places I gotta keep up with?" His head shakes; he drops heavily back down onto the milk crate. "Tch!" comes his scoff again. "Please man you ever try to punch Ryan? Do it sometime you see. That boy's fine." He's looking with a keen interest at Steve's blush, his grin skewing a little lopsided.

Sarah's eyes widen, before she looks between Steve's bicep and hand, picturing Ryan just going through a wall and leaving a Ryan-shaped hole. "I don't think Steve is on Tumblr," she answers slowly, dives back into her bag to start the search again. "Tumblr is all over him though. Seriously, Steve, don't go on Tumblr, people can be weird." Letting out a triumphant 'Ha!', she pulls a slightly bent and crinkled file folder from the depths of her bag. 'For Others' is hastily scrawled on the front in black marker, an assortment of pages sticking out here and there. Sarah takes the page on top and holds it out to Steve almost shyly. It's the drawing of his shield in magenta, purple, and deep blue. "If you want it," she quietly offers.

"I'm not completely sure what 'Tumbler' even is?" Steve bites his lower lip, brows furrowing. "It's an Internet thing, right? I'll try to stay away from it, if I see it. On the Internet." It's hard to tell this time what he is blushing about, exactly. "Well, I'm glad he's alright, and I appreciate the advice, but I'll probably pass on the punching. It seems rude to make Alma work too hard so soon after the High Holy Days." His smile at the drawing of the bi pride shield is slow, and also a little shy. Perhaps he blinks just a few times too many, though, tracing his fingers lightly over the star. "Thank you, Sarah, I...this is lovely."

"Oh damn! That's the fucking shit!" Ion claps his hands together when Sarah produces the drawing, shedding more than a few bread crumbs in the process. Likely he would set right back to bouncing, but thankfully remembers the container of stew in his lap before it upends. "Where your shield at, bro, I bet Tag he'd fix it up for you like that." The quick snap of his fingers comes with a skittering shower of sparks.

Sarah ducks her head to hide her smile, shrugs as she starts to quickly look through the rest of the folder. "I'm glad you like it," she tells Steve, grins at Ion and his appreciation. "I have something for you in here, too. I think it's closer to the back." She flips past a page of red bees and different flowers, a full body portrait of a skimpily clad Dusk with bi flag colored wings, a sketch of either Shane or B's (extremely) toothy smile. Finally she pulls one from the stack and presents it to Ion with a bit more flair and confidence. "Here!" This drawing is in black and white, stormy thunderheads covering the borders of the page. In the middle is Ion's jolly roger, the fanged and horned skull drawn realistically, the thunderbolts a bit less so.

Steve blinks at Ion's exclamation, glancing between the man and the drawing. His expression goes suddenly opaque at the question. "Oh -- I returned it to the government, in exchange for a favor. It...isn't really something I need in my life now, anyhow." But he looks down at the drawing fondly, anyway. He's distracted soon enough, though, by Sarah shuffling through the rest of her drawings, breaking into a smile again when she brings up the jolly roger. Leaning over, he peers at the back of Ion's cut for comparison. "Nicely done!"

"Ohdamn I want that one." Ion points at the portrait of Dusk, his eyes lighting as the picture passes. He wrinkles his brow, hiking a foot up beneath him and resettling the stew in his lap. Tearing off bread to take another mouthful, words semi-muffled through his mouthful of food. "What? How you can't need it, what they gonna do with it? Someone else gonna be Captain America? You need another one, I know some people they sell 'em cheap. But," he confides this conspiratorially, leaning in toward Steve, "I bet Flicker he'd make you a better one than they got." He offers the food casually back to Sarah, intent on trading it for the picture. "Huh." This just sounds thoughtful. "When you done this?"

"I'm confused, how can you give it back when it's your shield?" Still, Sarah is practically beaming, cheeks pink to match her hair. Her delight only multiplies when Ion holds his food out; it's only the folder full of papers in her lap that keeps her from snatching the bread and bowl from his hands. Once everything is stashed back into her bag and under the chair (which is rather quickly), she takes the offered items with a small squeal of thanks. "I already told Dusk I would give him that one the next time I see him, but I can make you a copy." Stuffing a piece of stew soaked bread into her mouth, Sarah carefully leans forward to tap the back of the page, near the bottom right corner. There, a small signature of 'Sarah O.' and 08/15/2019. "Maybe you can get a new shield in bi colors, for decoration." she says to Steve, when she can without spraying him food.

"It's...well, the ownership is somewhat disputed, actually." Steve flushes slightly. "And they might well make someone else Captain America, but I don't think they're going to just yet." His smile is a little rueful. "I appreciate it, but I really don't need a replacement. If I really start feeling its absence, though, I'll let you know -- or Flicker. And then Tag can paint it up like this for me?" He holds up Sarah's drawing. "For decoration."

"What how they gonna dispute it, you're Captain America. They really gonna argue with that?" Ion turns the paper over, just nodding as Sarah taps at it. "Huh," he says again. "Shit. If I had a house I'd hang it up. Oh man maybe I put it in the garage --" He springs up again as this idea occurs to him, a quick smile brightening his expression. Briefly, anyway. Just before he -- vanishes, in a sudden crackle, leaving a faint ozone tinge to the air in his wake.

Sarah's smile falls some, brows drawing in at Ion's 'if I had a house', but she barely has time to react to that before he's just-- gone. She blinks at the spot where Ion was, and then blinks again at Steve. "Everyone has such cooler powers than me," she sighs. Her smile quickly returns. "I'm really glad you like it so much. The design."

Steve opens his mouth to reply, but Ion is gone before he can muster a sound. He blinks, but it looks more to do with the flash of the electrical discharge than actual shock. "Maybe he thought of somewhere else he'd like to hang it?" he suggests, chuckling, then holds up the shield drawing by way of indication. "This will be going on the wall in my new room," he assures her. "Without the use of my powers. Which are definitely not as cool as yours anyway."

"I have seen you pick up the tables at work to clean under them," Sarah scoffs, but looks pleased anyway. Settling back in her chair, she pulls her legs up and crosses them to make a holder for what is now her bowl of stew, a slight hunch in her shoulders that hints at protective. "I'll have to put that on my resume. Art officially approved by Steve Rogers."

Steve's laugh is bright, if a touch self-conscious. "Helpful or convenient isn't necessarily cool, but I suppose that's somewhat at the whim of fashion, anyhow." His smile softens, and he shakes his head. "You don't need my approval at all, but if you want a huge bump in Internet traffic, I can apparently do that, with 'tweets'." He doesn't actually add finger-quotes to the last word, but something in his intonation implies them. "Though...you might want to give it a couple of weeks, if you want positive attention."

Sarah is in the middle of a rather large bite when Steve gives his offer, but it gives her time to think about it, staring into the middle distance in front of her her. "I don't know about internet traffic," she answers, slow with both thought and caution. "That's a lot of people, even if it is positive attention. But if you know any rich people that maybe want their portrait drawn..." She grins up at Steve. "You can tell them I'm by the Alice in Wonderland statues in Central Park every Sunday."