ArchivedLogs:BYOS

BYOS
Dramatis Personae Corey, Shane	2013-04-12 shane have left his sunshine at home though. corey have some to spare.
Location <NYC> Central Park North
Central Park North is slightly quieter than its southern counterpart, being further uptown and slightly out of the bustle of the City - insofar as one can escape the bustle of the City even here, in the acres of green and blue that make up Central Park. The reservoir is in the northern half, providing miles of jogging and biking trails along the clear water, as well as benches for people to sit and rest. The spate of nice weather the city has been having has ended, today; it's not /cold/ but it's considerably more chilly than it has been, and intermittently drizzly-grey, although at the moment it's merely overcast. This means that the park is not as busy as it has been in days past, people largely avoiding the muddy ground and chill temperatures. This is all the better for kind of freakish-looking blue mutants; there is one small blue figure currently creeping his way through a gap in the fence surrounding the reservoir, dripping and wet as he slinks over behind some bushes. He emerges a short while later, still wet but dressed in long-sleeved polo and khakis, both kind of spattered with damp. The small blue teenager is pulling on a dark peacoat, though this does little to stop his shivering. There was something about a bastion of green life in the middle of the concrete jungle that seemed to draw Corey to the parks that New York city had established within it. Today it was time to visit Central Park, and even with the chill and cloud cover here he was walking down the path. A large pullover fleece in dark green covered a black tshirt that was tucked into jeans, but with the temperature he didn't seem too bothered at least. Feeling lively, even with the diminished number of people around, it was still nice to just be here. Shane doesn't look particularly lively. Kind of scowly-frowny, especially as he approaches the path -- there's a jogger heading his way already on the path, and the older man startles at the sight of the teenager, firing off a snapped curse -- "Fucking mutie freak," -- before finding his feet again to jog off. Shane tugs his coat a little tighter around himself, turning to glare at the other man as he steps onto the path -- almost /into/ Corey, with his attention on the jogger. "Jegus fuck," /he/ is cursing, now, backstepping hastily to turn narrowed eyes onto Corey. "Should watch where you're /going/." Holding up his hands in placating gesture, Corey's eyes passed over the blue boy of hostility a moment, though he didn't seem phased for more than a second. "Whoa there. I guess I'll just have to be more careful in the future then." A smile was on his face again already as he inclined his head. "Still no harm done, eh? S'alovely park even on a dreary day. Just gotta bring our own sunshine alone to make it brighter in comparison." Perhaps at least the blond haired man had some small point, as just being near him was enough for the font of life suffusing him to spread about. For a moment Shane almost relaxes, as Corey speaks, but something in his words make the teenager's eyes narrow even further. "Bring our own sunshine?" He snorts, a little irritable. Maybe a lot irritable. "Doesn't look to me like there's much fucking sunshine around here. Just a shitton of cold and grey." Narrowing eyes or not, Corey wasn't having a bad day thrust on him by others. "We're only ever in charge of two things in our lives, what we do, and how we feel about it. Can't change the weather, so may as well change how we feel about it." Running a hand back through his hair to put stray strands back in place, he gave a vague shrug about the matter. "Better than bringing cold and grey with you when the sun does start peaking through." "That's the dumbest fucking thing I've heard all week and trust me, I've heard a bunch of dumb fucking shit. People don't change how they feel. They just fake it and hide it till they go crazy. You," Shane backs up a step, shoving his clawed hands in his pockets, "sounds like a dude who has a lot of sunshine already /in/ your life. I'd like to see this pull-yourself-up-by-your-emotional-bootstraps bullshit if every day of your life is always storming." Inclining his head as if a fencer to his opponent who's just scored a point, Corey grinned at the apt description. "True enough. One with a blessed life hardly has stones to throw into the pond of another's life." Offering a hand anyway to the youth, he said "My name is Corey by the way. The exchanging of philosophies ought seldom be done before introductions." His body language was showing the slight tinge of wariness, but through it all was an openness about him. "But there might still some truth to the mindset of changing how you feel. There wouldn't be so many metaphysical schools of thought concerning like attracting like if it didn't have some correlation to reality." Shane eyes the offered hand a long moment. Not taking it. Just kind of glaring at it. "There's schools of thought about a lot of craptastic bull," he says with a shrug. "And I mean, sure, you can decide shit to some extent but that doesn't mean a whole lot when --" He takes a hand out of his pocket. Not to accept the handshake but to turn his hand upwards, webbed fingers spreading to catch droplets of the desultory drizzle kind of trying to make its mind about whether it's going to turn into rain again. "I can sit here and /think/ warm thoughts all I like but it's not going to make the world any warmer." In his coat, his thin shoulders are still shivering. "I'll give you that. It must be difficult looking different than everyone else. But then, African Americans would be happy to share their history lesson about what its like being a minority thats oppressed because of how they looked." Corey knew it wasn't likely to be what the blue skinned boy wanted to hear, but he'd done his own soul searching on the matter. "Its always rough to be the minority in the stage of history before acceptance comes along. African Americans, Gays, Jews, and plenty of others have gone through matters similar to what you're feeling just now. And they still are even to this day. I doubt the Klan feels any more tolerable to them than to you. But not everyone is a monster, and trust me, bigots like that are the true monsters, no matter how they look on the outside." "And what the fuck would /you/ know about what black people -- jesus /fuck/ dude /you're/ really going to sit there and tell me about what it's like to be oppressed for how you look?" Shane isn't even spitting these words out anymore, he just sounds kind of dull. He shifts back a step, shaking his head. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're not shifting /closer/ to acceptance." He lifts his hand, knuckles grinding against his eye. "I don't know. After some of the shit I've seen, I'm pretty sure everyone /is/ a monster. Some people just hide it better." "I never said that I was oppressed for how I look. But I get called white boy, nazi jesus, and all the other little words that groups like to throw around between each other. But no, name calling isn't oppression, not like you and they have seen." Coreys eyes held some sadness within them at that, and he shook his head a moment. "I like to hope that humanity is adapting towards acceptance rather than away from it. There will always be small minded bigots around, but the vocal minority does not have to correspond to the rest of the populace." With a sigh at the cynicism of the youth, his hands slid to rest in the pockets of his fleece to help warm them back to his normal levels. "And I'm sorry if you think I'm included as a monster, I like to think of myself as a good guy personally. If you're proven right about me in the future though, I will gladly accept an I told you so." "Yeah. /You'd/ like to hope so, because the government isn't having talks about rounding /you/ up and sticking you in camps. From where I'm standing the land has kind've a different slope to it." The narrowing of Shane's eyes is lessening. His shivering isn't, though. He reaches into the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a pack of cigarettes to tap one out and stick it in his mouth. He offers a second to Corey. "I think most people are monsters. Kinda comes with the /people/ territory." Shaking his head at the offer of a cigarette Corey was relaxing as his conversation partner did. "No thank you, I'm one of those health nuts. The worst I do is eat bacon and drink coffee," he responded bemusedly, but at least he wasn't one of the non-smokers that would ask it not be done in his presence. "And yeah, the world is pretty messed up right now, but I can still hope for a change. After all, there are some states ruling for protection of mutants at least. That's better than the alternative after all." Re-settling his feet to be more comfortable as they stood in the chill rain, his eyes were tracking around the area to see if anyone else was even walking by. "Tell you what though, peace offering from a dirty mutant lover to a mutant, buy you a cup of coffee and we can talk more of the sins of the world where its warm." "/One/ state," Shane says, with a grimace, "and it's getting fought tooth and nail. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket, flicking it on to light his cigarette and take a long puff. The offer of coffee earns a snort, and he turns away to look back towards the water. "Hhhhah, no thanks. S'not many coffee places around here would even let me /in/. And I'm, uh, not real sure of the sanity of someone who'd invite me to coffee after this conversation. Seriously, do you invite everyone to hang out who just fucking curses at you and tells you how dumb you are?" "Nah, just a do gooder who's trying to change the world." Corey was chuckling at that and shook his head. "Still all valid points, I could just be someone trying to abduct you for science experiments. You wouldn't be the first person questioning my intentions after all, the good samaritan these days just doesn't exist. Everyone thinks someone trying to help out is just working some angle." Wiping away some of the drips of water coming down from his hair into his face, he let out a sigh into the drearyness. "I wish you luck kid, I seriously do. Nobody deserves the heartache you've probably been through already, and you're just going to get more. Still, you ever want that coffee, feel free to look me up." Glancing down the path either way, he seems to be considering his direction. Shane /bristles/, as Corey speaks, the gills at the side of his neck flaring. Fluttering. Rapidly. His eyes widen, too, and his step back is even quicker this time. "-- Abducting for -- yeah. Sure. " He's aiming for his previous cranky-gruff blase but it's not quite working, a crack in his voice to match the rapid flutter of his gills. "Whatever. Fucking do-gooders." His jaw tightens, something tensing in his posture, head turning to look away. "Good luck with that world-saving." The words come on a long puff of smoke, and Shane turns -- back the way he came. Towards the water. Not quite expecting the reaction his words resulted in, Corey shook his head. "Thanks, I'll apparently need it." Sighing again into the night, he tilted his head down to keep the mist and drizzle out of his eyes, he made his way back into the city, the small island of life that he is returning once more to the urban jungle and away from the raw feelings left behind him.