Logs:Strong Words
| Strong Words | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2024-02-10 "Heavenly Father wouldn't send someone back to be dangerous to the Church unless..." |
| Location
<NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side | |
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. The first train from Westchester does not pull into Grand Central quite early enough on Saturdays to beat the rush at NYC’s number one (and number only) mutant cafe. Maybe that’s why Lily has been here since opening, camped out at a four seater table near a corner wall, far from the main drag of foot traffic between door and ordering counter. She’s wearing a slouchy green beanie pulled low on her forehead, all of her hair presumably slicked away invisibly inside, and black denim dungarees buckled over a brown turtleneck sweater. There’s a small hiking pack claiming one of the two empty seats at this table, the other claimed by a black-and-green keffiyeh draped over the back -- the third seat has long been surrendered to a crowded table of seven some ways away, who's eager conversation has looped now for the second time to last night's big breaking news. She’s looking away briefly from her dim laptop screen to thank the server for bringing (yet another) tea latte and two hot chocolates, then to the door, then back at the clock on her screen with the smallest of worried frowns.
Bryce is still swiping as he pushes open the door, but then maybe thinks better of sending a text when he's here. He's holding the door open for Dallen while looking around the room. He's rushing to the back after this to throw his arms (hands a lot more feathery than they were last time Lily was home) around her in an excited hug. "Oh sorry the train was slow but actually the ride is really pretty and we saw Flaco he's like a bird celebrity and it was a little distracting but we had to take a picture --" This comes out all in one breath when he pulls back, only now starting to shuck his puffy jacket and pull back the hood of his black and grey hoodie. The brilliant red and purple feathers have claimed his hair, too, though they stop around where his hair would, shifting into a mottled corn-snake pattern of orange and red and black scales. "Oh! See?" Once he has draped his jacket over the back of the hiking pack's chair he's fishing his phone back out to show Lily a picture of an eagle-owl perched atop a bus stop. Dallen darts through the door and stares around wide-eyed for just an instant before trotting after Bryce with a lot of "excuse me" and "pardon me" to people he's not really inconveniencing. He sets down his backpack and peels out of his gray-on-gray jacket while his brother pounces Lily, wincing at the static. Underneath he's wearing a red buffalo check flannel, blue jeans, and gray hiking boots. "We have so many pictures of birds," he adds, earnestly, as he gives Lily a slightly ginger hug, avoiding her sweater. "How long are you going to stay?" He sits down, but then immediately stands back up to peer at Bryce's phone over Lily's shoulder as if he hadn't been there himself. "Spring migrations start in a few weeks. Dawson's been taking us birding, we should all go together." Lily closes her laptop when she spots her brothers, frown transforming into a delighted small smile. She stands up to return the hugs, her embraces tight as she drops an unabashed kiss to each of their heads in turn. She seems quite pleased to behold the fabled bird on Bryce’s screen. "That’s a great shot!" As she drops back into her chair, her leg kicks out to knock her pack onto the floor, where she drags it towards her seat with her foot. Above the table, she pushes the hot chocolates towards the boys. "For a while, this time," is not very informative, but there is no other information forthcoming on that. Lily takes a long sip from her mug. Maybe her smile is a little smaller when she puts down the tea, but the effect is undercut by the comical foam moustache on her upper lip. "—If my schedule works out," she says, a little slower, "I’ll be there. I’ll text DJ." There is just a little extra stress on DJ’s name. "How — is school?" This comes with a small glance at the corn-snake scales on Bryce’s forehead, then down to the faint shadows cast by the mug in front of Dallen. "--is anyone giving you trouble?" "That's such a cool scarf, where did you get it!" Bryce is plopping down into the emptied seat once Lily's pack is out of it, and gesturing toward the keffiyeh on the other. He grins bright at her new facial adornment, and tips his first big gulp of hot chocolate up just a little more than necessary for drinking, creamy cocoa moustache across his gleaming scales in bizarre mirror of hers. "I bet doctoring is sooo busy," he's saying with a small wrinkle of nose, but, 'the purpose of mortal life is for all people to have joy' and there's so many good bird spots, it's good to take a break." His brightness doesn't dim much at the question, but he does drop his eyes to regard his mug and slowly lick the cocoa off his upper lip. "School is great." This doesn't sound hesitant, but by his standards a little subdued. "Some kids are being really weird about my --" His head shakes, and he switches subject to one he can be more righteously indignant about: "Our new ward could be demonstrating a little more Christlike love, I --" He lowers his voice just a little to lean in and tell Lily (kind of guilty) (kind of proud): "-- said some strong words to one of the Sisters last week, Dallen belongs there as much as anyone." "Why do you call him DeeJay? Should we call him that? Is it just because of his initials or does he...spin...music?" Dallen asks, not excessively certain of his wording. "School is great," this declaration comes simultaneously with his brother but in a different shade of ambivalence. "Except --" And here he stops for Bryce's not-quite explanation, then adds, "I thought they were supposed to be accepting of people who look different. Like. Bryce's roommate has snakes for hair," he lowers his voice as though this were highly confidential information, "sort of. I should say some strong words, too." He leans towards Lily, even more confidentially, "Bryce said he didn't see the Light of the Lord in the Sister's words. But our ward isn't very accepting of how he looks, either." His expression is exaggeratedly taken back, as if he finds this notion unthinkable coming from other Saints. "Oh --" Lily's eyes dart back and forth between the two little Saints. "— it was a gift," is her first non-answer about the keffiyeh. At the 'strong words' Lily’s eyebrows hike up as she — well it’s definitely not a laugh because she’s cough-choking on her tea, but maybe it might have been. She presses the back of her sleeve against her mouth, wiping away the liquid there. When her sleeve drops that frown has returned, harsher than before. "What did the Sister say?" There is a fierce edge to her voice, now. "— kids don’t always know better, but she should. If it happens again, I can —" One hand lifts to scratch behind her ear, fingers catching on the edge of soft fuzz peaking out under the beanie, "— speak to her, or your teachers. Or —" Lily’s lips press together. "DJ — that’s what he goes by, it’s less confusing — he has meetings, too. If this ward doesn’t work." "Lael's hair isn't snakes, it's just..." But Bryce is frowning uncertainly, now, "... snakey." He takes another sip of his chocolate, and is brightening again at the mention of DJ's meetings. "Oh! Do you go? To his meetings? Do you -- are they --" Through his brief pause he's chewing pensively on the inside of a cheek. "I mean, people say a lot of things about him," he's finally settling on this as if it's a question in itself, "but when we're with him he seems really nice I don't see how he's dangerous to the Church, he loves the Church." Dallen frowns at "less confusing", but does not press any further about their translated big brother's name. "People say a lot of things," he echoes Bryce, then switches to one of his many General Conference talk-based scripts, "but his actions are his testimony and his testimony is strong." He's finally sipping at his cocoa, delicately -- no mustache for him! "Besides, he's...I mean. Heavenly Father wouldn't send someone back to be dangerous to the Church unless..." His eyes are a little wide, and he doesn't seem quite comfortable following that thought to its logical conclusion. Which, presumably, is not, "...his meetings are kind of far from school." "I’ve gone to his meetings. His testimony is strong." Lily presses her lips together at Dallen's aborted sentence. She looks away from the boys, down into her tea. "-- I believe," she says after a long moment, "that our Heavenly Parents brought DJ here to heal our faith, our people, and our world." There is a quiet passion in Lily’s voice, one that Bryce and Dallen have rarely heard before. "I believe that They sent us another Dawson Joel Allred to remind the Church that everyone has the potential for divinity, regardless of sexuality or genetic status. If that reminder is dangerous —" Lily cuts herself off here — maybe it’s occurring to her, as she looks up, that blaspheming in front of her babiest siblings is not Good Big Sister behaviour. "— I just think his meetings are going to be safer for you both. No strong words required." She taps at the mug with her fingertip, her expression slowly softening. "If you want to stay with your ward, that’s more than okay. If you ever want to go, I'll get you there." Her eyes light up -- "You could stay at my place, on weekends? I'll get you both keys." Bryce is quiet through this, cupping his mug close and sipping it slow. His head tilts slight to one side, brows scrunching at Lily's uncharacteristic intensity; at regardless of sexuality or genetic status his eyes are cutting aside to Dallen and then just as quickly away. For several moments he's intently studying the table. When he looks up he's smiling, nodding along: "I mean, that's what the Church teaches, isn't it?" and if there's a but in his words it's swallowed up in his eager acceptance: "You'll take us? We'll totally go." Dallen has forgotten his cocoa again, absorbed in Lily's words. He doesn't seem to clock that "sexuality or genetic status" has any particular relevance to him until his brother's sidelong glance. He slips a yellow silicone bracelet band from his skinny wrist ("Choose The Right", it says on one side, and "Cease To Be Idle" on the other, the reminders separated by a cartoon beehive and a cartoon bee) and fiddles with it restlessly. Something eases in the set of his skinny shoulders when Bryce finally answers, and he chimes in quickly with, "Yeah, totally!" He looks between his siblings, smiling wide and either not noticing or not caring that the shadow of his hands are still fidgeting even when he's stopped. "We can go tomorrow, but for now...can we pray?" Lily smiles, tension easing from her shoulders, when the boys voice their enthusiasm. Dallen's request catches her just a touch off-guard -- maybe she was glancing at the shadow on the table, maybe at Bryce's feathered hands, but now she looks down at her hands like she's noticing them anew. "--right, yes --" Lily folds her arms across her chest and bows her head forward, the motion rusty and uncomfortable but there all the same. "For now. Here. We can pray." | |
