ArchivedLogs:No Hate

No Hate
Dramatis Personae Corey, Shane	2014-01-14 '
Location <NYC> Montagues - SoHo
Montagues harkens back to the day when SoHo was filled to the brim with artists, with its mismatched furniture, all plush and decorated heavily with carved wood, but remains trendy enough to keep its newer patrons by making sure that furniture is clean, in good repair and inviting. The antique tables all have been reinforced to seem less creaky. The real draw of the cafe is the smell: fresh roasted coffee mingles with perfectly steeped teas. Spices from crisp pastries mingle with the tang of clotted cream but don't overwhelm too much the scent of chalk on the menu boards. The grey drizzly day has slowed down foot traffic, though the people who /do/ stop in tend to stay for longer. As such, though the cafe in Montagues is decently crowded, the flow of dishes as traffic turns over has been slow. Here in the back Shane (dressed bland as he ever tends to be for his not-customer-facing position in the back -- jeans faintly spotted with damp and a plain white tee under his Xavier's sweatshirt, sleeves pushed up over his elbows) has finished with his backlog of dishwashing and at the moment is slicing celery for mixing up a new batch of chicken salad. Crunch crunch crunch; the knife makes a kind of /satisfying/ chhhk through the stalks. In former times he's also regularly made rounds to the cafe to /collect/ the dishes from the busing station and check the drinks-prep station to keep its sugar, milk, stirrers, etc. stocked, but in the past week or so he's stopped doing that entirely, leading to some supplies running short more often than before from the other employees just getting /used/ to him taking care of it on shift. Dressed as usual for work with the combination of the cleanest jeans he has and a nice teeshirt with the apron over it, Corey is taking a small breather between the rushes. Sliding into the back, he stretches upwards, his shoulders popping with the motion. Letting out the groan as he opens his eyes, he inclines his head to Shane in a short greeting. "Hey," he says briefly, glancing to the chopping work going on. There was still a bit of the awkwardness there, as if he doesn't seem sure what to say to the younger boy. Shane braces instinctively when the kitchen door swings open -- /before/ he's looked up and before Corey speaks, so it's likely the nervous tensing isn't for Corey's presence specifically. His eyes are still a little wide when he turns his head, looking up with clear inner eyelids blinking closed as his gills slowly flare open. "-- Hi." His voice is quiet, sort of /small/ in contrast to his habitual brashness. "I, um. Heard one of the customers out there saying we were running out of raw sugar so I put a --" He nods towards a small replacement tub neatly arranged with packets of turbinado sugar, clearly /ready/ to go to the drinks station though he hasn't actually delivered it. Nodding in understanding, Corey looks to the sugar. "I'll bring it out then. There hasn't been any new cups poured in a few, so it can wait till the next refill." He offers a slight smile at that, and lets out a little sigh as he seems to relax. "Your shift over soon? Felt like the days dragged on abit, quiet will do that." He nods abit, running fingers over the sugar packets before looking back up. "Will Micah be coming to pick you up? I hear you boys have been keeping him actually eating." "Thanks. Me going out there has just been --" Shane glances back down to his work. Chhk. Chhk-chhk-chhk. "Oh, yeah, I'll be off. I'll be off soon just wanted to get some -- loose. Things. Tied up so next shift has -- everything ready. It's been slow, yeah." He looks back up with a small half-smile that dies almost immediately. "No, I'm. He's still got -- work when I get off so I'm taking the -- subway." His gills flutter faster at this announcement. He attempts another smile, though, with as little success as the first time. "Trying to. Don't think anyone's been really heavy on appetite around my house lately." "Yeah, things are, yeah," Corey replies with a sigh. If nothing else, he's putting the effort in to not saying things that will put his foot in his mouth further. "They appreciate it. Makes things go smoother having the backup." He nods abit, picking a stack of note cards out of his pocket, thumbing through them. "Could call you a cab if you want, instead of the subway. I mean, just offering." He tries keeping his own smile at the talk of the family troubles, though that seems to flatten his look a little. "I'd heard. It's... wrong whats happening. I hope your dad is home soon." He closes his hands around the cards, crimping them a little turning to look down at the sugar again. "That --" Shane stops for a moment to consider the offer of taxi with uncertain frown, but ultimately nods. "Might be safer, yeah. You might have to," he says apologetically, "go out with me when I'm leaving or they might not -- let me in." His hands pause after his next slice, sweeping the celery into a bowl but then just setting the knife down against the cutting board. "Me too." His voice is very quiet, here. "I mean he didn't -- do any of --" He swallows, just nodding. "Thank you. It's good to know some people aren't --" He just shakes his head quickly instead of finishing this sentence. "Yeah, I'll call it in when you're ready. And I'll make sure they let you in." Corey inclines his head at that, almost as if making a promise. "The government is wrong, they have to know that. After those," he shakes his head and thumps his fist into the table, "after those videos, they can't think they are in the right." At the thanks though, he shakes his head. "Its alright, its what anyone should do. You don't need to thank me for not being like that." He gives a shrug, and then noticing his crumpled note cards, he frowns and tries to straighten them before putting them back in his pocket. "People like Melinda should be the norm, not those asshole senators. I swear she's gotta be up for sainthood." "Thanks." Shane returns to his chopping, making quick work of the last piece of celery. "And it's -- maybe what people should be like but it hasn't been -- people have been throwing shit at my /Ba/," he explains with some disgust. "I mean, you know Ba he's like. /Sweet/ and /harmless/ how anyone could think he's good to throw rocks at is just --" He shakes his head, gills flaring again. "Mel's awesome. Think she's been -- kind of really stressed lately and she's /still/ been awesome. Should throw her a freaking -- Melinda-party." "I've seen that. City has been getting worse, its like all the hate in the world is funneled here." Corey shakes his head looking like he's about to spit before he realizes where he is and just looks sheepish. "I studied philosophy for years, and it still doesn't explain why the world is such a shitty place to the nicest people in it." Glancing over to the finished up cutting. "Looks like you've finished up there. Are you gonna be alright heading home? Micah had said, well he said everyone close to you guys have been getting the government watching everything you do. You can chill here till you think its a good time to head back. Maybe you can come up with something good to write for the Melinda party cake." He offers a smile at that, actually having some warmth in it at the idea of such a party. "I haven't been too many other places," Shane admits thoughtfully, "but I'd be surprised if you could find some place without hate. Though." For the briefest of moments, his teeth flash in a very small grin, also soon to fade. "If you /do/ I'd like to go there." He covers the celery, stocking it in the fridge next to the other salad ingredients waiting to be mixed, and goes to wash the knife and cutting board. "I um -- I don't know, I think I'll be alright. I want to get home before my little brother does, anyway, he kind of freaks out lately if he's home alone and tries to -- teleport to my Pa which is a bad idea. Maybe the cake can just say YOU ROCK." "I went to a buddhist temple once. They might not have hate, well, assuming that they are better at following their own tenets than other groups," Corey chuckles, glad that Shane is smiling a little more. "I can't say I know if they have experience with many mutants though. But I'd say start there if you're looking." As the situation with the younger brother is explained, his brow does raise though and he goes to the landline to make the call. "I'll make the call then, I don't think your brother should be visiting wherever they have your Pa." Putting in the number for the cab company, he puts the phone to his ear as he waits. "Short, sweet and to the point. I think she'd appreciate that though. Let her know that we notice what she does." With a sound in his ear, he holds up a hand to pause any response for the moment. "Yeah. Yeah. We're at Montagues. If you could drive around back for the pick up? Thanks." Hanging it up, he smiles to Shane. "Should only be a few for them to get here. Its not a busy time of day." "I'm dabbling in Buddhism next month. I've been looking into religions one at a time." Shane nods in thanks as Corey goes to make the phone call, drying his hands on his jeans. "No, going to Pa is a terrible idea. He did it a /few/ times after the arrest but in the new prison they're -- kinda just likely to shoot him. He's just -- he's /eight/ he just. Misses Pa." Shane shrugs, quieting while Corey talks to the cab company. "Cool. I'm gonna take a piss then. And grab my shit. -- Uh. Thanks. Again. Even /here/ everyone's just been -- really. Awkard so -- thanks." "Its not a bad one. I like it personally, but I sometimes still fall back to rote prayer that I learned growing up. Better to choose your own than to have it chosen for you." Corey glances back at the phone, thinking over the possibilty it too is bugged based on what Micah said. "Yeah, I imagine that they're extra jumpy. Micah said the lawyers are doing what they can though, so one can hope for change." Chuckling and nodding at the need for a bathroom break, he lets out a little sigh at the awkward comment. "I owe your /ba/," he says pronouncing it poorly, "a lot. He helped me learn more about myself when I needed it. And well, its the right thing to do. If the government wants to poke and prod into my life and find out how boring it is, thats little price to pay." "Jesus," Shane grouses in parting, though it's with some amusement as he heads for the door. "S'Ba helped fucking /everyone/ in New York?" He's breathing out a small laugh to himself as he ducks his head downward, aiming to attract as little attention as possible as he heads to the bathroom. "Almost everyone yeah. You said it yourself, he's sweet and harmless. Only assholes would throw rocks at him." Corey gives him a nod and heads to the back door, prying it open a little to look outside occassionally to see when the cab arrives.