Logs:Ramping Down

Ramping Down
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Sarah	2019-09-21 "I never turn down cocoa. I'm not some kind of maniac."
Location <NYC> Tompkins Square Park - East Village
Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival. The night is pleasant -- warm, clear -- and even at this late hour, still fairly crowded. People spill in and out of the many bars and late-night restaurants nearby, chat on the benches, sit down in the grass to eat their food. Dusk may or may not have been out partying himself -- he looks dressed up for something, at least. Faintly shimmery white vest with blue pinstripes under a blue Prince Charles jacket, a matching kilt, and pearlescent white boots -- though most eye-catching of all are his enormous wings, which have changed from their normal black fuzz. Today they've been redone in style, their variegated blue background criss-crossed with irregular ropes of luminous white, the effect uncannily like looking up at sunlight through a great depth of clear water. Under the yellow streetlamps the patterning looks more muted, though the sharp claws that tip his wings still gleam in pearly white. Just at the moment he has a bench to himself -- perched on its back, boots resting on the seat -- his wings half-mantled up behind him as he taps tobacco into a neat line on a thin rolling paper. Night time, Sarah has been told, is the right time. While she is not with the one she loves, doing something she loves must be close enough, and that something is drawing people. While most of her subjects have been through people-watching, a handful of (possibly intoxicated) parkgoers had insisted on paying for their portraits. She's dressed in black high-waisted shorts, a white t-shirt with a repeating pattern of small quartz crystals that reads 'Crystal Queer', and scuffed, sunshine yellow converse. There's certainly a bounce in her step as she makes her way home, sketchbook and pencil bag in hand. Her good mood only increases when she spots a familiar face (and set of wings.) "Hey, neighbor!" she greets with a smile, once she's close enough to have a conversation. "Fancy meeting you here." Dusk is just dipping his head to lick his paper for sealing; his eyes lift at the greeting, his mouth curling into a sharp-fanged smile. He swipes his tongue along the edge of the paper, tamps it neatly closed. "That shirt is fucking great." He tucks the cigarette behind one ear, resting his hand on the back of bench beside him. "Heading in or heading out? Night's still --" He tips his head up, looks briefly at the sky. "... maybe not young but like. Nearing middle age at best." Sarah brightens at the compliment, practically beams. "Thanks! So is your... everything!" She waves a hand to encompass his outfit, wings. "I'm heading in for now. Been, you know, people-watching." This comes with a small lift of her sketchbook and pencil bag, a thoughtful tilt of the head. "Well. People-drawing. What're your plans for the night?" "Yeah? Thanks." Dusk sits up just a bit straighter, his smile bright and a touch proud as he looks down at his outfit. "This place is great for that. You capture anyone interesting?" One sharp thumbclaw flicks down toward Sarah's sketchbook to further clarify his curiosity. "And I don't know, really. Was at a party -- then another one -- now I'm just keyed up, you know? Seems like a waste of energy to go sit myself behind a computer for the night. I'd heard about this place in the Bowery that's supposed to be a good time tonight, thought about maybe checking it out." "I mean, everyone is interesting in some way, right?" Sarah flushes pink, realizing as she says it how - after school special it sounds. "Nobody else I've talked to tonight has had your style, though. Do you mind if I...?" The question goes unfinished, but hopefully implied with another (shyer) raise of the sketchbook. "I hope you have a good time, whatever you decide to do, but I'd be finished after the first party myself. Angie is like you, though, he just--ramps up." "I was outclassed by a lotta people earlier -- Shane and Daiki always look like --" The puff of Dusk's breath, the widening of his eyes is appreciative; he holds both hands up, thumb and forefingers circled into roughly an OK-handshape before he taps both of the o's lightly together. "Dressed to the nines. And to be honest, I'm not even really sure how to ramp down. It's a skill I could use, though." He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and his smile softening. "I'd love to see your work, yeah. Do you like doing people, mostly?" He winces, rubs at the back of his neck, adds a little apologetically: "Sketching people, I mean. Portraits and such." Sarah takes a seat on the edge of the bench, giggles bubbling out of her. "I knew what you meant," she assures him, flipping open her book and handing it over. "Yeah, there are always new pictures to draw with people. I also like flowers and bugs and dogs. Living things." The drawings inside vary from black and white sketches to colorful portraits, all of them made with bold lines and hatched shading, dramatic plays of light and shadow. Dusk is at first quiet as he flips carefully through the pages. His eyes grow wider, though, and he gives an appreciative hum. "Damn, these are great. How long have you been drawing? The detail on some of these portraits, I feel half like they're about to spring right up out of the page." Sarah's face heats up, turning as pink as her hair. "Thank you. That really means a lot. I've liked to draw since I was--" She holds a hand up at no particular height, lets it drop back to her lap. "Little. Angie got me some books about drawing people when I turned ten, and that really helped a lot. Moving here helped a lot, I think. I'm getting to draw so many types of new people." The blush on her face darkens, a sheepish smile curling across her face. "I have a drawing of you when we met. With your Pride wings." "Oh, word?" Dusk's expression lights up, bright and delighted. "Those wings were fantastic, weren't they? One of my friends does the --" He extends a wing, shakes it slightly to accentuate the rippling-water effect painted onto it. "He's an amazing artist. You should the body work he does on my girlfriend, she always looks like a work of art." He closes the book, turns it back over to Sarah. "I'm glad your family encouraged you, it's really paid off." "Your friend does some fantastic work, from what little I've seen." If Dusk's wings could be considered something little. Sarah's smile falters some, when she takes her sketchbook back, blush rapidly fading. A locked box in the back of her mind jumps and rattles. "Thank you. Angie always believed in me. You know, if you want," she continues, cheer possibly a bit forced, "I could bring you your drawing sometime. If you wanted it." "Yeah, I'd like that. I'm kinda crashing at a friend's place at the moment but I'm sure I'll be around the building." Dusk regards Sarah thoughtfully for a moment before getting up, standing on the bench seat and stretching his wings just a little wider before folding them snug against his back. He hops down from the bench, plucking the cigarette from behind his ear and gesturing with it -- off across the park. "You know, I'm not really sure about another party after all but they have goddamn fantastic cocoa just up the block. You want? My treat." The offer obviously takes her by surprise, eyebrows raising above shocked green eyes. "Really? I mean... yeah. That sounds awesome." Her smile is quick to return as she stands, holding her sketchbook and pencil bag to her chest. "I never turn down cocoa. I'm not some kind of maniac."