Logs:The sun's link to Uranus, planet of surprises, will inspire you to move out of your comfort zone.

The sun's link to Uranus, planet of surprises, will inspire you to move out of your comfort zone.
Dramatis Personae Natalie, Scramble	2020-08-09 "I been meaning to talk to you about something."
Location <NYC> Sunyata - Lower East Side
The construction of this waterfront condo in the Lower East Side ground to a halt after Hurricane Sandy. Since, a group of punks have taken it over and converted it to one of the more impressive squats in the city. From outside, the building is wildly colorful, covered with massive interlocking murals. The roof supports a thriving urban farm with a sizeable greenhouse and beehives, while the apartments below are homes to both long- and short-term residents, who are encouraged but not actually required to contribute supplies, income, and labor to the community. The cavernous lobby has no glass, but has become a partially indoor skate park/playground, including a rather popular free-running circuit. Dogs and cats and children wander the grounds, shamelessly soliciting food and attention from any who will give it. It's a glorious sunset over the water, a perfect few from the edge of Sunyata's rooftop garden. This modest little picnic has been set up on the far side of the greenhouse, hidden from immediate view of those coming and going, a popular smoking spot in good weather. Scramble hasn't been smoking much, but her colorful glass pipe and grinder are spread out on the towel along with the empty Chinese takeout containers and mason jars of Earthworm's berry wine. She's casually dressed, yet dressed with a great deal of care in a black and gold ribbed crop and loose black capris with pointed hems, gold hoops on her ears and wrists, a gold ankh hanging from her black choker. Her short afro has been teased out as far as it will go, sa soft cloud around her head. The black star sapphire ring is -- perhaps conspicuously -- missing from her ring finger. "Hey," she says, picking up the mason jar and taking a sip of the sweet homemade wine. Offers it to her girlfriend. "I been meaning to talk to you about something. You down to process or nah?" In cargo shorts and a red sports bra underneath an oversized black tee that's had its sleeves torn off (it says QUEENS OF PAIN around a crown logo superimposed over a torn-fishnets and broken chain background; the smaller logo on the back, 'Gotham Girls Roller Derby' features the Statue of Liberty with brass knuckles and fists raised), Natalie has had a few hits from the pipe and a hefty amount of food and is now happily just lounging. She rolls up onto an elbow, takes the wine with a nod. "I can talk. We can talk. S'on your mind?" Scramble doesn't answer immediately. Watches Natalie for a moment, rapt. "Well...I just --" She cuts off. Takes a deep breath. "You're an amazing woman, and I love you so much that I'm honestly a little scared of ruining things by talkin' 'bout this." She chuckles lightly, clearly not too anxious at this particular moment. "But I've been thinking about the future and I was wondering what you think about taking our relationship --" She scrunches her eyes shut. Tries again. "About getting married." A small smile slips across Natalie's face at first, but it fades into a quieter, more thoughtful expression in short order. She takes another slow sip of wine, then sets the mason jar back down between them. "Married," she echoes, "damn." She rolls up to sit cross-legged, looking squarely at Scramble. "That's -- big. That's real big." The breath she pulls in is big, too. "That didn't come out right. It's just -- God, I love you. You're not ruining anything. You've been the best part of my life. I think I've just -- been so focused on right now that the future's been a big --" Her hand waves in the space between them. "Question mark." Scramble stretches languidly. "It is big, and I shouldn't have dropped that on you like that." She scrubs a hand over her face. "Maybe it's not really the right time to be making plans, but...it never seems like the right time, you know?" She picks up the mason jar and takes a sip. "It's a long road and there's gonna be a lot of crises along it." Her smile returns, small. "We've stood by each other through a lot. I think it'd be pretty amazing to--" Her head shakes slowly. "To have a little certainty in a chaotic world, right? But I know it's a lot." She sets the wine down again, her eyes looking out over the darkening waterfront. "At least, it's a lot for me. We don't have to decide anything right now, I just...wanna know if that's something you...might want." "Yeah," Natalie's voice is softer, "would be pretty amazing." Where Scramble looks out over the water, she looks at Scramble, long and thoughtful until her eyes lower. "It feels so bone-deep, you know -- assuming nothing's settled, any moment we'll have to uproot life and start over. And that is always hanging over our heads, all of us, not just because --" Her hand lifts, short-bitten nails tracing along the delicate chain hanging around her neck, the pendant currently hidden under the neck of her shirt. Nat shakes her head, lifts her eyes. "I don't know. Maybe that is more reason to build something sure. And I do. Want to -- think about it. It just -- feels like a lot to think through right now, when we're -- when everything's about to --" She shakes her head, summons up a quick smile. "-- but then, I guess you were just saying there's always a crisis, right?" "Always a crisis," Scramble agrees quietly. "If I'm honest, I'm probably thinking about this now because shit's about to go down, partly anyhow." She looks back at Nat, her expression veiled and her eyes damp. "It's not some kinda morbid...relationship insurance, but thinking about uprooting life and starting over right now? I realized the only part I would really, truly regret is if I didn't get to do it with you." She looks down at the rooftop between them. "The fact you haven't run screaming into the sunset by now is doing a lot to put my mind at ease." Her hand reaches across the small space separating them, laying fingertips along Nat's jawline, her thumb brushing soft over the other woman's cheek. "Even if we decide this ain't the way for us." Nat turns her face into Scramble's touch. Her eyes close; she draws in a slow breath. The kiss she presses to Scramble's palm is light. "I'm a lot of things," she says, soft, "but I'm not screaming."