ArchivedLogs:Courteous

Courteous
Dramatis Personae Jason, Jax	2014-07-15 '
Location <NYC> Strand Books - East Village
The Strand manages to pack a whole lot of character into one bookstore, but they have a lot of space to fit it in. They advertise themselves as having eighteen miles of books, and whether or not that is true, it certainly is true that they have an enormous number of shelves packed into their rows and rows and rows of books. A book-lover's haven, this East Village landmark boasts an enormous collection of volumes of all types among their stacks, crammed into the narrow aisles. Well-known for their rare and out-of-print collection, they have many hard to find volumes tucked away in their labyrinth of shelves as well. The book store was rather quiet this morning, well, beyond just the general atmosphere being a calm one, but there just wasn't that many people in yet. Many were at work and college students probably had better things to be doing then hanging around in a book store. Heck, even the teens. Yet moving between two shelves was a young man, wearing a white sleeveless shirt, with a black Chinese dragon on the back of it, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of normal white tennis shoes. He had aviator, blue lens shades on the top of his head and a very small chain around his neck leading to something hidden by the shirt. The man stood around six foot three and was looking over different types of fantasy novels on the shelf. Sometimes he would pull one out, giving it a quick look over, before putting it back on the shelf once more. By his stature, he carried himself with an air of certainty and looked like a type of guy you would expect to see rock climbing or jogging around-- not rooting through books looking for something to read. Whatever Jason Sanders was looking for anyways... In contrast to Jason, Jax looks flagrantly brightly colourful. Vivid tattoos are etched down his arms and even one intricate bright chimaera inked atop his shaved-bald skull. Metallic duochrome nailpolish that shifts between shades of red and gold, a hint of glitter on his lips. Lime-green-and-black-mesh knee-length skirt, a red t-shirt that reads 'All My Heroes Have FBI Files' around an image of a monkey wrench. He's on crutches, a rainbow tie-dyed cast on one leg; there's a chunky black-red-silver platform sneaker on his other foot. Despite being indoors he's /wearing/ sunglasses still, huge and mirror-lensed; though they obscure a good portion of his face they /don't/ hide the fact that fully half of his face is twisted up with a snarl of scarring that leaves his skin rough and uneven. For all the glitter and bright colour, the cast and the makeup, the skirt, he /also/ moves with confidence, well-muscled under the cheerful polish -- though his rock climbing days will probably have to wait till the cast is back off. He has a messenger bag (it reads FreakAngels beneath a winged logo) slung over his shoulder and as he crutches his way into the sci-fi/fantasy aisle his pierced lips curl up in a reflexive smile, warm and amiable. "-- 'scuse me, 'pologies, sir. You mind if I nip in that shelf a moment there's a --" Crutch still tucked under one arm, he flutters fingers towards the shelf quickly. Jason glances over to the side when he is spoken too and somewhat stares for a moment as he looks upon the shorter man who is like some punk heavy-metal rocker who has perhaps seen better days. He takes notice of the crutch next and the fact he apparently is after something here. Jason then takes a step back, as he draws out the book he himself was curious about and makes sure he is a bit out of the way for the other guy. "You uh, you need help finding that book your after?" Seem like a polite thing to ask, though Jason was giving him a curious look. Mostly at the scarring. Though his amber brown eyes did look at those reflective glasses being worn indoors. Curious. "No, I'm --" Though the reflexive words in Jax's heavy Southern drawl cut off pretty quick as he looks over the shelves uncertainly, teeth pressing down against his lip. "Actually maybe I just wanted t'pick up the /His Dark Materials/ books I -- /thought/ they'd be here." His brow creases faintly; there's a small blush that tints his cheeks pink. Maybe at interrupting Jason when his books weren't actually in that place after all or maybe because of the curious look. He rocks back on his crutches, dipping his head a little sheepishly. "'pologies, didn't mean to be a -- pest, oh, gosh. Maybe they're in with the Young Adult stuff? I'm tryin' to flesh out my kid's bookshelf some." A kid old enough to be reading chapter books, evidently, though /Jax/ looks like he's barely out of his teens, if that. Jason picked up the southern draw, which also in realizing it-- made him now even wonder what the fellow was from. Given he knew himself was from Houston, Texas, but being gone from the homeland for some time, kinda crippled his own accent-- but give it time. Jason hrms as he glances off to the side trying to think of where that book would be. At least that way the guy doesn't have to roam forever on crutches. "Nah, don't worry about it, sir. Jus' hate to see you wondering around forever tryin' to track down a book. Surprised no one has asked you if you needed any help." Those amber brown eyes gaze over down the way at the possible people at the counter, giving them a minorly scolding look. "Yankees." He mutters under his breath, as he flips the book under his arm. "His Dark Materials, righ'?" Jason decides to double check that before he goes to see if they have a computer near here or one of those pull out inventory check things. Jason does pause in mid step, before he looks back at Jax, "If you don't mind me asking. Where you from originally, sir?" "I used t'be here all the time maybe they jus' figured I should know m'way around by now? But I don't know that one could go either way, right? Fantasy /or/ YA. The Narnia books is /here/ in this store but /there/ in others an' the Golden Compass stuff is -- basically in the same flavour, right?" He nods at the double-checking of the title, carefully following a short ways after Jason. "Me? Oh. What gave me away?" Though his smile is brightly amused at this question; he certainly has no illusions about his heavy NotFromNewYork accent. "Georgia. North Georgia. Like up in the tail-end'a Appalachia. How's about you, sir? Ain't /no/ natives here callin' me sir 'less they're workin' in customer service." Jason finds what he was looking for and then goes to hunt for that title. "Probably is youth.. but never hurts to be sure. Hate to see you wasting your time huntin' around for a mythological book." He said with an amused grin. When asked where he comes from Jason, nods as Jax explains that he comes from Georgia and looks over his shoulder at the odd man, "The lone star state." Jason says with a friendly grin before he goes back to looking. "Born n' raised in Houston, though when I turned eighteen, joined the army. So you could say that sir comes from both raisin' and military." Jason raises a brow at what he finds and then looks back over to Jax, "If they do have it here. It might be in youth. I'll go take a look for you if you like, given well--" He motions to the crutch. "I mean no disrespect by it either. but looks like you may have seen better days. So it will be no problem for me to go look in your stead." "Oh! Yeah you got it on /both/ sides, Southern boy /an'/ military, if that won't learn you manners I don't know what will." Jax's voice is warmed with an easy helping of cheer, and he leans a shoulder up against the bookshelves with a relieved look. "You still in the service? You live 'round here now or jus' visitin'? -- an' gosh, y'sure y'don't mind? That'd be /right/ helpful, sir, I got a couple'a other things I wanted t'pick up in this aisle. An' I /am/ -- kinda a little slow lately. Should be gettin' this off /soon/ enough though an' let me tell you I can't wait. Summer's the time for runnin' /around/ this is crampin' my style." "Well, I served my four years of service and now on reserve." Jason explains as he makes one last mental note where this book may be. "So for now, I'm living out here on my military pay and if I get called in, welp, back to service." Jason grins at that. "Anyways, sir, let me go get you that book. Shouldn't take to long-- if they have it." He rolls his eyes at that, before heading off in that direction to see if he can locate the book for the guys son. It take him a few passes, but he find something like it-- maybe one of the other books perhaps, and as all things with book stores, someone has it in the wrong area cause kids sometimes do that. When he does get back over to that area he is noticing things are getting a touch busier and he goes to track down Jax once more, realizing something this entire time they been chatting and he went to find the book for him. "By the way, sorry for the rudeness on my part." Jason then hands him the book. "The name is Jason, Jason Sanders, sir an' I do believe this is the book you were lookin' for? Took me a bit of findin', someone moved it off to the wrong shelf." Jax has at least stayed in the same aisle, in the interrim, though he's moved a little bit farther down to browse some of the books. He's got a couple in his messenger bag already by the time Jason returns -- the top flap of the bag is left folded back, books clearly visible as a flagrant signal that he's not actually trying to /steal/ them, crutches just don't leave him much by way of free hands to carry them with otherwise. "Oh! Thank y'kindly, that's the one." He smiles bright, taking the book to tuck it into his open bag with the others. "Hopefully things'll stay quiet an' you'll get t'jus' enjoy New York a spell. S'been a rough year 'round here but we're polishin' back up good." He shifts his weight so that he can offer Jason a hand for shaking -- /kind/ of also mangled, there's only a snarl of scar tissue stumped off where his smallest finger /should/ be. His fingers are calloused-rough, his skin kind of /feverishly/ warm to the touch, though his grip is firm and solid. "Jax -- Holland-Zedner. S'a pleasure an' thank you so much you ain't been no kinda rude. Jus' helpful. Need alla that we can have 'round here." For those who /follow/ news much the name is -- potentially familiar, splashed all /over/ national news following the zombie crisis when he was accused of being a terrorist who had /orchestrated/ the plague. Charges that were subsequently dismissed, at least, in the wake of mutants from Prometheus coming forward to explain that no he's... just a terrorist who broke them all out of the labs, but nevertheless between the plague and Prometheus and his large anti-Registration drive his name /may/ be one of the most recognizably Mutant the country currently has. Jason has kept up with some news and when that handshake is made, he tries hard to keep a good natured smile. Good enough to not give away that he has put two-n-two together and given he is not a fan of mutants, and he is working with the group that this guy was noted on national news for attacking... "Well, a pleasure to meet ya Holland-Zedner, sir. A.. real pleasure." Jason doesn't pull his hand away from the firm shake even with the realization, he just keeps his cool under the fire. The guy after all, isn't causing in any trouble after all and no reason to start something. "Also you got quiet a few books there. Hopefully you don't live to far. Be real trouble to carry all those alone." Jason then shrugs about then, "But thank God for mass transport right?" He then goes to take a step back, giving Jax a good look over once more, before his brows furrow at his own thoughts. "Though... I am kind of curious, your pinky.. and the side of your face there.." His voice is kept down out of respect really. "You seen war time or something? You look younger then myself but..." "Not super far, no." Jax shakes his head as he drops his hand back to rest at his crutch; his other hand waves vaguely -- out. Somewhere. "Jus' over in the Lower East Side. A /normal/ day I'd walk, t'ain't but mile or two but --" His nose crinkles up and he looks down at his tie-dye cast indicatively. "S'a quick subway hop, though, I'll be good. Kinda like the exercise, y'know? I go stir-/crazy/ jus' bein' laid up." Jason's question draws a sudden /deep/ blush out of Jax, cheeks flushing crimson. His teeth wiggle at one lip ring and the fingers on his mangled hand curl in tighter against the handhold on his crutch. "... guess I have seen war." His tone is a little distant, quietly thoughtful, and after a moment he gives his head a quick shake, an apologetic twist to his tone. "Not like your kind, though, no. Though," he admits with a soft quick breath, "around here -- I think most /everyone/ who lived through this past fall in New York's seen some kinda war. Streets was fair /clogged/ with the dead. Don't know /many/ as come outta starin' down all those hungry corpses without a scar here an' there, outside or in." "Yeah, I've heard about some of the stuff that went down here. Pretty brutal." Jason admits as he looks at the shorter man before him. "Missed most of that excitement however, but that is what we have the police for-- or so I've been told. Military handles the foreign.. and cops handle the domestic. I am pretty sure if we military types got involved in domestic.. it be a very different type of battle." Jason then looks away, "Though some of us would argue we have every right to fight for our nation on the soil as even the police do. After all, that is what we are giving our lives for. The people and the future." Jason glances back over to Jax before he rubs the back of his neck, "But change of subject may be in order." "You said that book was a for a kid. Son right?" Jason asks with a raised eye brow. "There was a fair few military folks pitchin' in in the worst'a things here," Jax admits with a small furrow of brow, "desperate times, I guess. But then again we was under martial law for a spell during the quarantine. Don't think that's happened nowhere in this country since somewhere abouts the sixties. Million zombies is a strong reason though, I guess." His head shakes, a faint shiver running through him. "It -- was brutal, yeah." His smile returns easily enough at the change of subject, expression brightening at the mention of his kid. "Oh, yeah. M'youngest is -- well okay actually all /three/'a my kids is pretty voracious readers but the older two pretty much stick everything on their ereaders these days. Ain't got one for the youngest though he loses /everything/ he touches so." No expensive electronic toys just /yet/. "You got no family in the area?" Jason shakes his head, "None." He then smirks, "Beyond my own military family." That keeps the smirk there for a bit. "But nah, blood is all back down in Texas and around that area. A few went to Arizona. I love 'em, I really do, heck I have military blood in the history, but its nice to actually be away from them." "Got use to it too, with the four years I was serving, just-- kept it that way. Easier on everyone really." Jason also admits as he starts to make his way for the line that is actually starting to gather up of people. "But in times like these though, having kids is tough," He looks over at Jax. "Be a shame if somethin' was to happen to the parents. Hard to say where kids could end up." He then looks away, before he looks back. "Also if your ready to check out, you could go ahead of me.." Jason motions with his hand. Though as he does he then furrows his brows, before reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose a bit, before giving his head a bit of a shake. Then he just closes his eyes for a bit as he stands there. "Family's family, blood or no. M'glad you got folks up around here, even if they ain't the ones y'was born to. S'important, you know? People who'll have your back." Jax dips his head in a small grateful nod, starting to make his slow way towards the line. His smile has faded with Jason's comments on children, though. "Think havin' kids is always tough." His voice is softer, a little heavier with the acknowledgment: "Sure gets harder when the /world's/ out t'hurt them, though." He is just slotting himself into the back of the line when he glances back to Jason with a small furrow of concern in his brow. "Y'aright, sir? You look a bit -- off." Jason rubs the bridge of his nose as he keeps his eyes closed. "Yeah.. yeah I'm fine." He says before he lowers his hand and gives his head a little shake. "Just a mild headache kicked on, is-all." He then goes to step in to line behind Jax, his hand easily taking the boot he had tucked under his arm and holding it in his hand. "..Probably just take some stuff for it once I get back to my place, nothing that can't be ignored.. just was a bit.. sudden." He says with a slight hint of confusion in his voice as he gazes around the area before shifting his weight. He doesn't comment on the kids part, but he does note it, much like a great deal of this conversation today. "Been drinkin' enough? In this heat hydration's always -- oh gosh look at me I swear /fussin'/ over folks is in my blood," Jax admits with a faint flush in his cheeks again. "I got some ibuprofen if y'need." He stumps a little closer to the front of the line, tapping fingers against his bag. "Hope y'don't live too far. 'least a cab ain't never far off." "Yeah, I've been drinking plenty and thanks but no thanks.." Jason says to Jax, as he rubs the back of his neck. "..and I think its just a southern thing for all of us to be the kind and courteous types. Though we can also be the ones to cause the most amounts of trouble too." "As for gettin' home, I have a motorcycle, so I'll be fine." Jason admits this with a mild hand wave. "Worse comes to worse, got a buddy not far from here who has a pickup truck." He muses. "..long as he didn't decide to go off to the party last night or something." Jason then shakes his head. "I swear, some people were just born to get into trouble, while others, like myself-- try to protect people from trouble.." His attention then gets diverted elsewhere as something gets his attention outside, though its hard to say what, he then looks back to the line, and to the counter ahead. His hand tightening up for a moment on the book he holds, but it loosens up just as quickly. "Mkay. Jus' so long as you're gonna be alright, sir." Jax's look of concern doesn't quite /leave/, sweeping over Jason thoughtfully. Just for a moment, though, before he turns his attention back to the counter when one of the cashier's calls, 'next!' He flashes Jason a warmer smile. "Take care, aright? I hope y'feel better soon." He lifts his hand to his forehead as though tipping a hat he isn't wearing -- though, for just a /moment/ when his hand lifts, there's a dark shimmer /of/ a silver-trimmed black Stetson resting on his head that he tips as though it had been there all along. Just a moment; in the next moment the hat is gone, quick enough it could almost have been a trick of the eyes. Almost. "An' thank you for the help. Always do appreciate a touch more courtesy in m'life." Smile still in place, he turns to head towards the counter so that he can unload his books and pay for them.