ArchivedLogs:Things You Find in New York

Things You Find in New York
Dramatis Personae Isra, Iztali	11 September 2013 Isra and Iztali catch up as summer ends.
Location <NYC> Isra’s apartment - Morningside Heights
The apartment takes up the first floor of a beautifully restored mid-century row house. A step up from the tiled entryway, a long bar counter separates the kitchen from the living room, which minimally furnished to take advantage of limited natural light. Simple and elegant brushed steel appliances and mission style furniture give the place a clean and austere appearance, but closer observation reveals no expense spared on any level. Very little artwork adorns the living room--only a few striking framed prints of galaxies and nebulae. The capacious master bedroom can be seen through a door left ajar. Another door conceals a small bathroom, and beside it a hallway leading to the utility area near the back entrance. The front door is freshly painted and the window beside it brand new, curtains drawn and lit from within. A stack of eco-friendly takeaway containers sit on the kitchen counter. Isra paces the floor with an over-engineered modern dustmop, cleaning up after the latest batch of workers Khalida had hired to replace the window. She wears a sapphire choli and lehenga, trimmed with gold embroidery, the latter hiked up and tucked into the waistband on one side so that her tail can move more freely. Putting the mop away at last, she flicks on the porch light and turns on an oscillating vertical fan keeps the unseasonably warm the air moving. Iztali is dressed in an emerald green batiked blouse, loose and scoop-necked as a concession to the summery weather. Unfortunately, that is the only concession as her legs are covered in a pair of chocolate-brown yoga pants and her hands hidden away in thin gloves of a matching shade. Her long, heavy black hair had once been wound atop her head and pinned in place with a pair of pencils, but tendrils now are rapidly escaping to swipe like little kitten paws at her face and neck. The corduroy patchwork bag that is her constant companion bounces along at her hip, and a crisp white pastry box is held level in both hands. She marches up the front steps and knocks firmly on the door, exactly twice. Isra freezes mid-stride, only her tail twitching for the space of a few seconds. Then she lopes to the door, unlocks it, and pulls it open. “Good evening, Tali.” The weariness seems to lift from her cat green eyes momentarily. “Please, come in.” She takes a step back to allow her guest passage, then closes the door behind her. “It has been a while. How are you?” Tali eyes the window and door as she passes through the entryway. “I like what you've done with the place,” she comments with an odd mix of jest and sincerity as she pauses to toe off her shoes, a half smile twitching her lips slightly. “Yes, I'm sorry, it has been too long. I took the opportunity to visit the dig site again over the summer break. August came and went before I had even had a chance to greet it properly. I am doing...better.” She looks back at the window again. “I fear the same might not be said for you?” “It has been eventful, yes,” Isra’s ears swivel forward, then press back against her hairless skull, “but not /all/ bad.” She shrugs, wings mantling and then folding down across her shoulders. “My lawyer has been handling the University; they will not yield, of course, and so I will sue. As for the vandalism…” She glances at the window as if she expects it to break even as she speaks “I was not here for any of it, having spent most of the summer on campus or...somewhere in between.” A smile flickers across her face, fleeting and sharp. “I have tapas and limonade,” she says, reaching into the refrigerator and coming out with a blue glass bottle. “Will you tell me of your adventures in archeology?” “Well, at least not /all/ bad,” Tali echoes with another small smile. “The University has been...disappointing. I did write that editorial piece that I anticipated being incendiary. Sparking discussion. Probably a lot of backlash. Given, I did /promptly/ leave the country afterwards, but... There has been little to come of it. As if it were too ridiculous to bother responding to, with the exception of a few people who shout things without thinking. No discussion, just, the equivalent of a pat on the head. I can only hope there may be more now that I’ve returned.” Shaking her head, Tali follows Isra and holds up the pastry box. “I have an apple and pear crumb pie, and it is all loaded up with honey and brown sugar. You make a wonderful excuse for me to buy decadent sweets,” she comments with a tone of appreciation. “And I was missing the local apples while I was away.” The invitation draws a chuckle. “Fortunately, they were not nearly so adventurous as my last. No ritual sacrifice was engaged in, at least not in the present time. There was a great deal of cliff climbing and dealing with a cave ritual site that floods periodically. So that might be enough to qualify as adventure without the bloodshed.” “The Sanctuary situation in Harlem has been sparking its own conversations.” Isra sets the bottle down and waves Tali to a stool before turning away in search of cups. “Hardly anyone ever sits there, if that is still a concern.” Two heavy glass tumblers join the limonade on the island counter. “Perhaps with that situation in mind the student body may have more to say on the matter now?” Her tone is as abstract and academic as ever, but there is a tightness to her movements as she speaks, a shuffling of wings and a twitch of the tail. “I do not imagine that much of it will be positive, but negative discourse is better than silence, I guess.” “All vegetarian, this--even the ‘calamares’--though I am not sure if that is still important. It is amazing the sorts of things you can find in New York with a smartphone and some creativity.” Isra starts opening boxes of tapas and arranging them on the counter. “Cliff climbing and flooded caverns! That sounds like grand adventure to me.” She distributes silverware and napkins, touching as little of each as she can. “I have never climbed a cliff, though I suspect I would be rather /good/ at it now. In my field, I have never had call to consider athleticism an asset as you have, no doubt. Did you encounter any ancient star charts or observatories?” Obediently, Tali perches herself lightly on the edge of the stool before depositing her box on the counter. “Casual contact with items that don't bear particularly strong impressions is not as troublesome as it once was, actually. Particularly through the barrier of clothing.” A snort of bitter laughter comes at the thought of the Harlem situation adding to the discussion. “I will have to bite back so many 'I told you so's' my tongue may bleed before I can say anything of use, as it is. But, yes. I was hoping for discourse. Mostly...I received negativity and silence.” “Sadly, the vegetarian options are still better. It is nearly impossible not to read off of things that actually enter my system. Though some shellfish are tolerable. Their last impressions are mostly rather...confused? But worth it for the shrimp dishes that they make back home. Well, there's a whole new layer to the phrase 'to die for', isn't there?” Her chuckle at this is more genuine. “Oh, you would be an absolute boon in getting to these sites. It is usually the trek /down/ to them that is the trouble. These caves are along the shoreline and often flooded at high tide, so getting to them from /up/ on land... Once you are in, you have already prepared your way back out well enough, so long as you watch the tides. You could just...glide now?” “Observatories are more for the cities than these caverns that I've been focusing my studies on. The caverns are viewed as either metaphysical or /actual/ connections to Xibalba, the great city of the underworld and realm of the Death Gods. Though the myths claiming physical connection tend to be more about Guatemala and Belize than Mexico. It has less association with the sky than much else in Mayan myth. Though it is said that there is also an entrance to Xibalba through the Dark Rift in the Milky Way.” Tali smiles her little half-smile once more. “I promise, I am not hopelessly morbid. The caverns are simply /fascinating/ to young anthropologists because they are difficult to find, and some are still being discovered. Fewer /cities/ surface this day and age.” Isra settles onto her own stool and pours two drinks, sliding one glass over to Tali. The cloudy white liquid fizzes fiercely at the movement, then settles. "I have not tried to provoke any conversations lately. It is selfish, in a way, but I feel as though I need to the time to collect myself before the next storm hits." Her ears press back against her head. "I want to be ready." Distributing spoons to each container, Isra build herself an eclectic plate. "Provided I could gain enough altitude and read the winds right, yes, I can glide a significant distance now. I have been training to carry more weight with me, too." She sips the cool lemon-flavored soda and purses her lips. "A bit sweeter than I expected, this." Isra's ears perk up momentarily and her eyes snap to the front door. At least two voices are audible outside, muffled and indistinct. For several seconds she does not move at all. The voices subside, however, and she relaxes. "Perhaps someday I will travel to these places and stand amongst stones carved by the long departed, who looked upon the same stars we do now." She quirks a smile at Tali. "Well, /almost/ the same stars." Tali accepts the glass with a quiet thanks, sipping from it, her nose twitching just slightly at the tickle of the bubbles. “I find most sodas are incredibly sweet; but that is nice when it is what you are looking for.” She rests her gloved hands in her lap when they are not actively required to interact with dishes and utensils. “I can understand why you would not actively seek discussions of a thing when it is thrown at you constantly, and most often in undesirable ways. I am aware that my own need to /seek/ the discussion is a blessing, in a way. The more constant input from my situation conveniently stays within my own head, rather than external.” Tali slowly sets up her own plate with just a little bit of each item to start, wanting to try all of the different things. “Why must it be a ‘perhaps’?” she asks with a raised brow, the question genuinely curious and not a matter of rhetoric. “What is the greatest impediment to travel for you? I would like to help where I can, once I understand the situation. I have spent my entire life flitting from place to place, so I am quite familiar with the systems.” Isra clears most of her plate while Tali speaks without looking particularly hurried. "In truth, I feel, much as you do, that I need to press issues like difference, othering, and discrimination. However...finding the right approach can be more challenging when one's appearance frightens or disgusts those one wishes to engage." She picks up her limonade without drinking it. "As such, I have chosen a route that Americans seem to truly understand and embrace: litigation." Isra takes a long sip of the limonade, as if sweet citrus soda could confer moral courage. "I suspect that the greatest impediment lies somewhere in my /mind./" She sets down the cup and takes up her fork again. "However, that does not diminish the inconvenience of the physical and social barriers. The shape of my body makes sitting in most chairs difficult; commercial airline seating is virtually untenable. On the few occasions that I have needed to fly, my family has chartered private aircraft for the purpose. I might have a more difficult to find a willing pilot now." Somehow, this prompts a bemused smile. "I would need to practice a lot more before attempting to fly across a continent on my /own/ wings." “Somewhat less direct approaches such as writing and legal action would seem to be the most likely to have success without being shut down before you truly begin,” Tali concedes, nibbling at her food between speaking. “And you are entirely in the right in pressing the issue with the university. The response to my attempts to discuss these issues with the administration has not been positive, either. And that is when they are willing to speak with me at all. I continue to be disappointed by their handling of this at every turn.” Her lips press thin, pulling into a frown. “Do let me know whatever I can do, since I have access to the campus and offices as a matter of course. I imagine that has only gotten harder for you since the action was taken.” The travel discussions soften Tali’s expression, at least. “Oh, I would not have thought to ask you to fly /yourself/ to that end. I was thinking more--if you were able to dedicate the time required, of course--of utilizing a combination of land transport locally and privately hired ships for leaving the country. Spaces and furniture could be a great deal more accomodating that way. Particularly if you are interested in locales in the Yucatan. It is quite popular to access by the water.” "I had exhausted options for civil discourse before even consulting a lawyer," Isra says. "However, I appreciate your offer and will keep it in mind." She finishes the rest of her food and replenishes her plate with a smaller amount from each container. "I rather prefer keeping my distance now. Encounters with former classmates and professors have proven awkward. A lot of mumbled condolences and glancing at the time." She looks up, as though searching for answers in the dim regions of the ceiling beyond the pendant lamp fixtures over the counter. "That /would/ be considerably more comfortable. Or perhaps not! I have never traveled by sea and do not know how my body would react to wave motion. I should like to find out, however. Next summer." This sounds like a declaration of intent more so than just speculation. "In which case, I should probably move up my timetable for learning how to swim." Isra drains her glass and, refilling it, offers the same to Tali. "So, aside from social activism, what is your autumn looking like? Pouring over data gathered from your dig sites?" “I suspected as much,” Tali admits with a sigh, a subtle shake of her head loosening a few more stray tendrils of hair from their inexpert bindings. “I suppose it would be...difficult. Either people would be quite aware of the injustice done to you and may find that uncomfortable, or they would fail to see injustice and not be the sorts to associate much regardless. That is extremely unfortunate.” She eyes some food remnants on her plate but does not interact with them further for now. “Should your stomach take to it well, sea travel can actually be quite enjoyable in itself. I would definitely recommend some short excursions to see how your respond. And knowing how to swim, while not required, is certainly the better part of wisdom if you are planning to start spending time on ships.” Her head cants, eyes tracing over Isra’s form appraisingly for a moment. “We should also make certain that appropriate flotation devices are available in advance, taking your wings into consideration. Safety devices are not things you want to take half measures with, after all.” Tali holds her half-empty glass out for refreshing, bringing it immediately to her lips to appreciate the increased carbonation from the newly added liquid. “Hm. I don’t know that I have done anything to truly qualify as /activism/ just yet. More...pontificating and pestering. I have been uncertain of what to do on that front. Attempt to be more active at the risk of increased visibility, or continue to plot quietly and be able to utilize the fact that I am unknown in that way?” Her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug that indicates the answer is unlikely to come any time soon. “Aside from that, I am continuing with my research, working on my dissertation, and teaching for several classes. I was actually pulled in quite last minute for an extra course this semester, for introductory level literature, when the school found itself in a bind for a warm body to place in the front of the classroom. /That/ should prove interesting, if nothing else than for the sheer novelty, I think.” "The night skies must be delightfully dark out at sea." Isra smiles behind her glass. "Perhaps not as clear as a high-altitude desert on account of humidity, but almost certainly better than this conspiracy of light and smog!" She gestures at the curtained front window with one wing, which, though only half unfurled, extends beyond the end of the kitchen counter before she pulls it back in. "I am not even certain if I am positively buoyant, though it seems probable. Definitely worth investigating." "You are doing /something/," Isra says. I am not altogether certain that marching and holding signs is necessarily more effective than trying to start discussions in the manner that you have, although both certainly have merits in terms of reaching a given audience." She pauses, picking at her food idly. "I have no wish for you to be exposed to greater risk professionally, socially, or bodily, but I do not think this is a /safe/ fight for anyone. As for me, I would rather win it for posterity, even if it means sacrificing my own peace of mind." The murmur of lowered voices drifts in from outside once again. This time Isra only spares the front door one wary glance. "Ah, teaching! I never had much interest in it before, but now I rather enjoy it. In fact, I am sponsoring an extracurricular astronomy club now. It should perhaps more accurately be termed a telescope-building club, though. So, will you be casting your students empty-handed into the marvelous labyrinth of magical realism?" “The skies are quite lovely. Though I sincerely doubt I have ever looked at them with quite your level of appreciation for their /contents/.” Tali’s little half-smile returns, lightly amused. “Oh, I do not mean to imply that I am doing nothing, simply...that I am uncertain ‘activism’ is the best word. Something entirely more reserved and academic seems like it should apply.” She sighs, her eyelids dropping closed briefly. “No, it isn’t a safe thing at all.” “It is truly impossible to avoid the prospect of teaching at this level, isn’t it? I am surprised it took so long for you to come to it. Though high school is an entirely different playing field. I am not certain I would be up for that one. Higher education is definitely my preferred space.” Tali sips from her glass again before answering the question. “A little bit. I am planning to focus on short fiction, so there is a lot of room for different eras and genres and styles to enter the picture. Though I will admit my primary goal is for everyone to be /writing/ coherent literary analysis before they leave, so help me…” "Outreach, perhaps? Education!" Isra's eyes gleam with humor. "Well, whether we have a name for it or not, it is an important thing to do, pressing people to have those conversations--to /think/ about the issues rather than uncritically accepting /anyone's/ word for it." "I have had teaching assistant positions before, but that was mostly troubleshooting and protecting delicate equipment from blundering undergrads." Isra cants her head, looking more quizzical than she perhaps intends. "I never taught much /actual/ astronomy. I avoided it quite deliberately, as I did everything else that kept me out in public longer than absolutely necessary." Her wings stretch and settle back into a comfortable position. "Keeping those wrapped in tight all day was quite uncomfortable! I suppose it would be different now, except..." She gives a rueful smile. "Well, it /is/ different." Isra considers her own empty plate and Tali's largely empty one. "Shall we move on to dessert? I do not wish to hurry you, of course..." “Perhaps that,” Tali agrees with a slight inclination of her head. “Apologies, I sometimes forget about how your appearance might have impacted your life choices and situations. It is not always the first thing that comes to mind when considering you, is all...but, I do understand. I am glad, though, that it is something that you have had a chance to try, now.” She gestures to the pastry box when Isra mentions dessert. “Please, it is what I brought it for. I am not feeling rushed.” "My appearance has all but /dictated/ my life up until the last few months." Isra rises and pulls dessert plates from a cabinet, then dessert forks and knife from a drawer. "I built a life around secrecy as much out of habit as fear, and I am quite happy to put that behind me. Teaching has given me new perspectives on a great many things." She opens the pastry box and raises her bald eyebrow ridges. "That is a formidable pie! I think, for all of my flight-amplified appetite, you /might/ just need to help me with this a little." “I am glad, at least, that you feel capable of utilizing the past tense there.” Tali's expression is sad, yet fond, as she watches Isra move about the kitchen. “It sounds like this job has been very good for you,” she adds with a nod, before taking in a deep breath of the pie's sweet, fruity scent. “Oh, it is not a pie to be trifled with! And we cannot have you dropping out of the sky for the sake of too much pastry, after all.” A teasing little wink accompanies the statement. “But, please, just a smallish piece for me. I haven't your impressive metabolism for challenging such baked goods.” "I wish my parents could understand, as you do, how important this is. They keep worrying that I will get hurt, not realizing that hiding myself away hurt, too." Isra cuts a small wedge of pie from the deep aluminum pan and maneuvers it inexpertly with knife and fork to the plate, which she slides over to Tali. Then she sections out a significantly larger slice for herself. Having mangled the crust thoroughly in the transfer, she gives up and pops a broken off corner of it into her mouth. Sounds of approval follow. "Well! If I /had/ to fall for a pie, this would be it. I really must bring one of these to Thanksgiving dinner. Mother's cook has no talent for American pastries." “It is harder to think of anything past the safety of your child, as a parent. I have the benefit of seeing this from another angle, besides.” Tali pulls the little plate closer to herself with a quiet thanks. “But safety is not an adequate thing in isolation. And there is the greater societal concern.” The flow of her words is stopped by a fork loaded with pie crust, apple, and pear. “Mmm, but. There is also something to be said for occasionally sitting in one's own home with ridiculously indulgent pastries. I will have to text you the address of the tiny shop where I bought it. Lovely little older couple and their adult daughter running the place.” "Your perspective is of great value to me. More so because I know I can rely on your honest critique for any other harebrained notions I might hatch." Isra holds up a chunk of glazed pear speared on her fork. Her smile is unguarded, long, sharp canines plainly visible. "Flying people, friendship, and fruit pies. The sorts of things you can find in New York..."