ArchivedLogs:Familiar Faces

Familiar Faces
Dramatis Personae Alexandrine, Ezekiel, Jackson	2013-02-04 '
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Tucked down an alley, this out of the way coffeeshop is easy to miss if you don't know what you're looking for. Unassuming from the outside, its inside makes up for it -- spacious, with abundant seating and plenty of plush couches and cosy armchairs along the room's edges. The coffee is good, the prices are cheap, and there is a definitive alternative vibe to the room, from the music they play to the art that hangs on the walls. The real draw to this place, though, stems from its client base -- one of the very few businesses in the city that is welcoming to mutants, Evolve has become widely popular as a hangout with that crowd, and it is quite common to see them among clientele and employees both. At night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits over the coffeehouse. It's eveningtime, but /Monday/ evening, which means that while there's a decent number of people around Evolve isn't as crowded as it might be another day. There's a woman tucked into an armchair working on a laptop whose arms are covered in black scales, and at one table a pair of teenagers with similar sharp horns poking out of their hair are arguing fiercely about whose turn it is to babysit their younger sister this weekend. The rest of the room /looks/ fairly normal though here a woman levitates her coffeecup to her lips rather than taking her hands off her keyboard to lift it, and there a young man walks /through/ the wall from outside rather than using the door. Jax is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and though his brightly coloured attire (red fishnets over metallic silveryblack tights, knee-high silver boots, black skirt hung liberally with straps, a bright green t-shirt and mismatched brightly patterned armwarmersm, electric blue hair and glittery pink nailpolish) stands out it does not stand out as /mutant/. Just, New York. He's currently fiddling with one of the straps on his skirt, head tipped back to look at the menu board, his gaze shaded by large mirrored sunglasses despite being inside. Coffee. She is more of a tea drinker in the afternoon, but she has laundry to finish tonight, and new shoes to work on and attach ribbons to, as well as more research and resume fiddling. Red hair is loose over her shoulders, bright against the black peacoat open over her blue wrap dress and knee high black boots. She's searching in her messenger bag as she heads into the coffee shop she only has a vague, hazy knowledge of, stopping just short of crashing into the last person in line waiting to order. Ezekiel walks in from the front door. He's bundled up in a grey Washington Nationals hoodie, scarf, aviator shades, leather jacket, and gloves. It's painfully obvious that he does not want to be seen. He shakes the frigid January air off of him as soon as the door closes. He immediately and wearily scans the room, then takes his place in line well out of elbowing distance from the woman fussing with her bag. "Woahhey," Jackson lifts a hand reflexively to steady Alexandrine as she almost-not-quite crashes into him, and in this he is distracted from contemplating what has The Most Caffeine to, instead, squint at the woman with a very hazy veneer of recognition. Very haze. "Do I -- you look familiar, miss," he says, a thick Southern drawl liberally coating his words. And distracted again, by another person joining the line behind them; whether Ezekiel wants to be seen or not he gets a /bright/ smile from the colourful tattooed young man there. He nudges his own sunglasses higher on his nose, bouncing slightly up onto his toes, and his tone is easy and warm as he greets: "S'kinda weird to wear sunglasses at night, y'know, sir." Alexandrine look up into Jackson's glasses, red brows lifting as she offers a smile. "Wasn't gonna run into you, Ah promise. But no, Ah don't think we've met before." She also has a fairly thick accent, though hers is a slightly different flavor. "But we can now. Alexandrine." Fellow Southerner! Alex will take it. She turns to look at the person just behind her with that same smile. "Unless you're watching us breathe and live our story lines!" Offering up that song lyric brightly, from "Sunglasses at night". Ezekiel's hands snap up to his glasses as if they were spring-loaded. He gets them about half-way off before breaking into a broad, crooked grin. "I didn't even realize I was wearing them, officer, ma'am." He says nodding to Jax and Alex in turn, and speaking in his native New Yorker accent. He folds the shades into his left hand, and extends his right, "Ezekiel." "I /am/ the fashion police," says the eclectically-dressed man, offering a hand out to Alexandrine (its smallest finger missing) and then, after a moment's thought, crossing his left arm over it to offer his left hand to Ezekiel. "Jax," he says, mood as cheery as his bright tone, if a little shaded over with exhaustion. "New York's a /great/ place for watching storylines, really. I ain't met nobody here with a /boring/ one." Alexandrine doesn't even look twice at the altered, offered hand. "Pleasure, Jax. And allow me to be the first to bore you." She winks, then follows Jax's lead to offer her hand to Ezekiel. "Alexandrine." There's a faintly curious, and puzzled, expression on the redhead's face, as if trying to place the second man's face. Ezekiel stows his glasses in his jacket's side pocket, crosses his left hand over his right and shakes the hands of his new acquaintances. "A pleasure," he says, then pauses. "I don't know that my story is any more interesting than the others here, but a man can hope... Right?" "Hope for which way? I mean they say may you have an interesting life is a curse," Jackson replies, smiling a little brighter at the handshake three-way, "but then again anyone who says that, I mean, forget those people. Anyway, I bet y'all are /just/ as interesting as everyone else -- for all that might be a blessing or a curse." << Or a little bit of both, >> he doesn't actually add out loud. Dropping both hands at once, he rocks a step forward towards the counter, ordering a soy latte with triple shots of espresso. "Naw, Ah'm pretty boring. As for blessing or curse, maybe a little bit of both?" Alex phrases to Jax, so in desperate need of caffeine she's dropped to sort of eavesdropping without even truly intending. "Really. Pretty normal an' borin'. Moved up north to become a teacher, an' work in a friend's studio." She goes quiet as he orders, a glance at Ezekiel. "Ya look familiar. Should you?" "I'd rather talk about that at a table. Um..." Ezekiel says, rolling onto his heels and glancing over to an empty table, raising an eyebrow, making a helpless face, and focusing on a table wedged into the corner. "...that one?" He offers with a smile. "Studio? Like art?" Jackson peers at Alexandrine hopefully -- another artist? -- and, paying for his drink, steps away from the counter. "That'n looks as good as any. Does everyone know everyone in this city? Cuz I'm startin' to think so." Alexandrine smiles, eyes warming at Ezekiel. "Coffee first. But we don't have to talk about anythin' at all." Then to Jax, a tiny shake of her head. "Only so far as dancin' is considered art. Ah sketch an' help work up costumes, but Ah'm not a painter or anythin', no." A chuckle. "They /do/ say New York is the smallest town in the world." "Double espresso," and rifles through his worn Washington Nationals wallet. He winces, embarrassed, then produces a 50-dollar bill. "This is ok, right?" The barista take the bill, checks it for authenticity, then produces the change... eyebrow raised the whole time. Ezekiel tips her heavily, then heads over to the table. "Dancing!" This gets as much enthusiasm from Jax as art did. "Dancing's totally an art, what kind d'you do? I love to dance." He scoops up his cup when it arrives, glancing over at Ezekiel curiously as he follows to the table. For the wallet, not for the bill. "Y'really like that team, huh? You from --" He looks at the wallet, looks at Ezekiel's hoodie, and takes a stab: "Out west?" Not a very /good/ stab. Oh well. Alex blushes heatedly at Jax's enthusiasm. "Ah do a lot of them. Been in dancing classes since Ah was two, started learning to teach at fourteen. Ah prefer ballet the most, but can do tap, an' jazz, hip hop, contemporary... Ah'm learning ballroom, now." She looks at Ezekiel with a soft smile. "The Nationals are from D.C., actually. Can't say Ah know much more than that. Football bein' the religion back home an' all." She has her cup of coffee, sweet and light, as she settles in with the boys. Ezekiel unzips his hoodie and says, "I'm a New York native, but we can't help the cities that have adopted us." He looks at the table, at his hands... realizes he never picked up his coffee and slides back to the counter where Natalie is holding his espresso. Returning, he says, "I've seen quite a few plays and ballets going back and forth between here and DC. What sort of dance is your specialty, Alexandrine?" "Oh, cool! I've done ballroom since about when I could walk," Jackson supplies brightly. "Swing a little bit less. It can be so hard sometimes to find partners though. Or maybe," he allows, nose wrinkling, "Just hard t'find partners who fit my schedule. -- Oh!" His cheeks tinge pink at the correction on the city, head ducking to spill bright-coloured hair down over his eyes. "So you're from here? Well, /you're/ from here?" This is with a lift of eyebrows to Ezekiel, followed by a quick grin to Alexandrine, thoughts tinged with /home/. "-- /You/ sound about as native as I do." Alexandrine watches Ezekiel thoughtfully as he gets his coffee. "Ah wish the city would adopt me, but.." She chuckles, sipping at her cup. "Ballet, but you've never seen me. Ah'm... Ah'm a teacher, never tried to be a pro. Wanted to go to college an' all instead, so Ah did." She shrugs a bit. "Goin' back an' forth durin' the off season, then?" It's a stab, though perhaps not a completely blind one. "Well, Ah can give ya a number, can always call to see if Ah'm free to go dancin'. Ah haven't done it for /fun/ since Ah got here. Well, Ah like teachin', and it can be fun, but you know what Ah mean." There's a warmth to the growing smile. "Definitely not a native. Be a long time until Ah think of anywhere but N'awlins as home." Ezekiel grins, "I know how you feel. I was just starting to think of DC has home, then when I come back here, I find that The Big Apple has shut me out." He shrugs the jacket off of his shoulders and leans in far over his espresso. "You guessed right, Alexandrine, I used to play for the Nats. I'm retired now. Best to go out when you're ahead right?" "Teaching might be a good way to spend my retirement," he says, "but the idea of dancing for fun sounds like a good plan for right now." "I know what you mean. I'd /totally/ want to try and go dancing sometimes. I teach art but then there's teaching-art and art-art." Jackson shrugs a shoulder. He sips at his coffee, long and deep, and against his mug his lips curl up into a smile. "Hey, you could come, too? D'you know how? S'always time to learn if not!" And then he stops, eyebrows raising. "Wait, did you say you /played/ the sportsball? That's cool!" Though internally he is questioning. Man at Evolve. Mutant? It's a safe /enough/ bet, does Sportsball approve of that? "Well, Ah hope it doesn't shut me out. New York or N'awlins. Ah'd be very sad." Alex says with a hint of sympathy for Ezekiel. "Ah must have seen you, at some point. " She sips at her coffee as Jax sparkles and talks. He is very adorable, that way. She tugs paper from her bag, writing carefully a number down, twice. "You could totally come. Ah can teach you, if you don't know something." She offers Ezekiel, sliding a scrap of paper to him, and one to Jax. "Now ya both can call me, if you need a dance partner." She says with a bright, joking grin before she's tipping up her cup to drain it. " Ah should hurry home. Have laundry to do still, an' shoes to prep for class tomorrow, an' about eight other things." Ezekiel says, "Thanks!" Ezekiel pats around his clothing, then accepts a pen from <probably Alex>. Writing down his number, he says "It'll be good to put down roots in this town again. The city changes too much during the season, it's easy to miss something important." His eyes soften, and he smiles at his new acquaintances." "Well, with all the travellin' and all, it would be hard to feel home at all, Ah'd think." Alex says with more than a hint of understanding, taking that number from Ezekiel before she rises. "It's been super nice meeting you both, though. Maybe we can all go dancin'!" She smiles, a wave for them both before she's dropping her mug off at the counter and heading out the door. Jax jots his number down, too, twice in small neat writing. He passes one to each of the people, shooting Alexandrine a bright smile as she gets up to go. "Wellp, puttin' down roots starts best with making new friends," he tells Ezekiel, cheerfully, lifting his cup in salute as he stands, too. "M'gonna be late for work if I don't scoot. But I'll see y'round, could be!" With a curl of glittery-nailed fingers in a wave, he gets up to head out, too.