Participants:
Scene Title | Fire and Snow Cones |
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Synopsis | A very strange conversation between two strange individuals. |
Date | June 14, 2009 |
Central Park. It may not have come out of the nuclear blast and subsequent events completely unscathed, but for anyone who chances to come inside it, that hardly matters. A late-afternoon stroll is just the thing to forget about some of the day's or week's troubles, even if only for a little while. Of course, some come here not to forget about troubles, but to consider causing them. This is in the back of Jensen Raith's mind as he walks calmly among the various park-goers, unconcerned but determined. He has a goal in mind and a gift in hand, although he doesn't expect to win favors with it; it is for his own amusement.
And his determination is focused on one of the park's many performers, gaze calmly fixed as he walks towards an exciting display of motion and flame, confident that the small group gathered to watch won't pay him any mind. Usually the best place to start is anyone who likes fire.
The first few hours of her first performance couldn't have been more nerve-wrecking, but by this time Lilith has given herself completely to the beat of a bucket drummer playing not far off down from her chosen 'stage' along the path. She's dressed in a suit befitting her performance - sanguine and black leathers that contrast with the ebon and ivory tones of her dreadlocks braided down her back. She arches back as she begins to swing the poi tools into churning ellipses. Further and further she moves with a roll of her hips until the smooth lines of her back are horizontal, the flaming orbs swinging parallel to her body and the round with a little hiss each time they pass precariously close to her body. The crowd gives a little hoot before she straightens and finishes the display with a little twirl of the blazing orbs, dunking them into a waiting bucket of water.
"Thank you," she offers with a vibrant smile, gesturing towards a little case. The crowd filters away, a few dropping bills and coins in favor of the performance. Lilith catches her breath, a warm blush of shy pride and work coloring her cheeks beneath a few beads of sweat as she wipes her brow and looks along the thinning crowd, flashing a unique member among the, Raith, a simple smile that is pleasant and yet dismissive in the way of people passing along a sidewalk.
Raith doesn't vocalize nearly as much as some of the other onlookers did before they went about their ways, simply giving a few nods of approval while he waits. When a suitable number of people have left, he approaches and makes himself known with a simple, "Nicely done," before he lifts his hand and holds out towards Lilith his 'gift' with an almost knowing grin: "Snowcone?"
but the offer is short-lived. "No, don't suppose so," he continues on as if he hadn't included a short pause in-between speaking, "Candy from strangers and all that. Dangerous thing that, candy from strangers, but, I digress." And as casually as as if he'd asked about the weather, he tossed the frozen treat over his shoulder. "A walk and a word with you, if I may," he politely requests.
Lilith's icy gaze turns down to the frozen treat before a thin, penciled brow lofts itself up in a sharp arc upon her feminine features. Ruby tiers part to offer reply, only to hang still and silent at the man interjects and answers for her, her gaze following the path of the little gift before turning sharply back to the man. She was out of practice with the strange, leaving her to look rather foolish as she simply cants her head to the side and watches the man curiously for a long, scrutinizing moment. "Alright. But as soon as introductions are made, and you're no longer a stranger, I expect you to replace that snowcone." She flashes an easy grin that seems to light up the brilliance of her features, already set to glisten with a thin sheen of sweat.
She turns away and collects her things, stuffing the tools of her trade into a worn, supple-leather backpack. Only then does the woman fall into place beside the man, making a slight gesture to encourage him onward in pace and speech alike. Her heels, a rather ridiculous pair of dark stilettos click as they walk. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, not too terribly much," Raith replies as he walks, "Just not everyday a pyro walks into town. Maniac, that is. I take it from your performance that you like fire. Really, really like fire." It's not exactly 'friendly' conversation, but then, New York attracts all sorts of strange people. "If I may ask, how'd you get into the flying barbecue trade? Not a choice most people get to make, know what I mean?"
"Do you pry into everyone's life? Or am I just special?" While certainly a rather confused, pyromaniac beneath the surface, her job requires a certain degree of social interaction, and so she paints a slightly affronted expression on her features to feign normality, if only for a moment. The expression breaks quickly as Lilith trains her gaze on the passersby that shift along the path before them. "We'll just say it's in my blood, ya? When'd you get into the Creepy Guy career? Born for it, I'd imagine, seeing as you seem to like your jobs so much." Her personality seems to fit her fiery work rather than the sweet smile painted on her lips.
"Oh, rest assured, I had to work very hard for a long time to be a Creepy Guy. Traveling helps, though. So does language. We'll say that's in my blood, ya?" With another couple nods of, something- agreement? approval?- Raith continues on speaking. "As for prying into lives, well, no. You're not special. Unless, of course, you are. All kinds of special people in this city. Artists, engineers, my special friend Ed. And a few others I ought not to mention." For the moment, just for the moment, Raith's voice becomes much more serious. Even sinister. "You follow?"
Lilith's cerulean gaze flicks to the corners of her ebon-lined eyes, drinking up the details and mannerisms of this strange man from the fringers of her peripheral vision. She hesitates for only a moment, an internal debate the she apparently loses with herself should one judge by the slump of her shoulders before she rights her perfected poise. She works her tongue over her lips before halting, taking control of their friendly little stroll as she turns to regard the man - assuming he stops. "I think I get the jist. And I think you have some esplainin' to do, Lucy, before we see just how special I am, hm?" She pulls her braid over her shoulder and begins unweaving the dreads more like an innocent child than a pyromaniac uttering threats.
"Well, not much explaining, really." Once again, raith's voice is as casual as when he first made Lilith's acquaintance. Fortunately, he seems to take no offense at stopping, facing her in kind. "See, there are two kinds of people in this world that I have a serious problem with. One of them is people, special, Ed, or otherwise, who think that, just because they can do something, that means they ought to. The other one is financial accountants. See, people. Them, us-" he gestures with his hans at the crowd, beginning to thin as some decide to go elsewhere for the rest of the day- "We all need, freedom. And love, and peace. But some people think that because they have freedom, that gives them free reign to ruin everyone else's love and peace. Can't stand people like that.
"Not that you're one of them, of course. Nosiree."
Those sea-hued orbs follow each slight gesture with a careful attention that means to absorb every twist and turn of the man's little speech. "Glad to see you aren't judging a book by its cover," she remarks when the mention of her own categorization is mentioned sincerely or otherwise. She leans back, gently hooking her thumbs into the beltline of her leather britches. "And, so you pulled aside a wandering street performer slash pyromaniac to discuss semantics of world and its people? Or is there something more churning those strange little gears behind there?" Curiosity has her stuck in place one way or the other.
"Always something turning these gears. Sometimes, they turn in the air, sure, but not usually. New York is, uh, dangerous," Raith replies, "And about to get more dangerous. Lot of forces at work in this city. More than just the ones you see on the news, even, so keep that in mind while you're out here, out anywhere, or even in. And, uh, even though we both know you aren't one of those types, nosiree, make sure you don't develop any trends like that. One of those forces, I guarantee you, will be a lot less like to do undesirable things if you do."
For just a moment, Raith pauses and looks left, and then right. "People sure start clearing out early around here, don't they? Bet some of them say some pretty interesting things when they do."
Those whirling gears and the words the promote set the cogs of though spinning in Lilith's out thoughts, her eyes alighting with the slight realization of the true depths of this conversation. "Oh, I'm sure a man of your caliber and talents has a plan for those types, yeah?" She leans in with a gesture of curiosity that turns her statement into more of a question, a hope for validation and explanation, gently folding her slender arms beneath the bust of leather-kissed flesh. "You'd be amazed at the conversations one overhears in Central Park, I think…"
"Oh, I can imagine that someone could hear and pick up all sorts of information in Central Park, whatever the source may be," Raith says in agreement, "Well heck, it might even be the sort of information they'd be willing to share with other people, if they knew it'd go towards furthering a worthy cause. Or maybe if the price was right. Don't you agree?"
Lilith chuckles as if the strange gentleman's even stranger state of mind was something contagious. She leans back, inclining her chin in a way that sets her gaze down the bridge of her delicate nose. "Knowledge is power, they say. And, so I can only assume that the information that breeds such knowledge is… priceless. Hm?" She taps the tip of her nose in a thoughtful gesture before fidgeting her fingers at the air between them. "But, one couldn't possibly ask someone to share such things without knowing towards what motive they would be applied, I think? Certain people can be bought, but those that are trustworthy only apply themselves to the right cause, yeah?"
Raith cocks his head to the side in thought for a moment, but, as is becoming the fashion, nods with approval. "That makes sense, I would think," he says, "It'd have to be a good cause. Like, one dedicated to promoting the safety and welfare of the city's denizens. Of course, well, any cause that was effective in achieving that goal, the people furthering it couldn't be afraid to make messes. Maybe some real big messes. All for the greater good, of course, but still messy. Such are the times we live in. I'd support a cause like that, though. I heard someone say once, 'The future belongs to those of us still willing to get our hands dirty.' What do you think about that?"
As the conversation turns a bend less shrouded in blankets of 'perhaps'es and 'maybe's, Lilith turns her countenance away, directing her gaze down the emptied path with a thoughtful distance in her vibrant eyes. New York was pressing her to choose sides much more quickly than she had intended. "The greater good," she mumbles on a warm soprano note, keying up the scales of her thoughts, applying the pros and the cons to either side before turning her attention back upon the man and offering an approving nod. "One cannot sit idly by while lives are tainted, I suppose, lest that one be equally responsible…" She runs her tongue at the ruby bow of her lips before culminating her statement with a simple voiced, "I agree."
"Thought you might, but there's always that degree of uncertainty when you're first meeting people. Had to make sure." It's a simple enough explanation, and for Raith, completely satisfactory. "I hope you'll be performing her for a good, long time. It's nice to meet you, by the way," he adds, extending his hand, "Page of Coins. I'm the King of Swords."
Lilith offers a simple nod before wrapping her slender fingers abou tthe offered hand in a soft but solid grip. "Page of Coins," she muses. "Pity I didn't impress enough to deserve Queen," she chimes in a manner that inspires that charasmatic smile back across her pale features. "No doubt I'll be tending to my work here for some time. I hope you'll grace my crowds again, Your Majesty." She withdraws her hand and hooks her thumb in her belt once more, adjusting the pack on her shoulder.
"Oh, you may yet advance in your career. If you build the right network," Raith replies. A single shake is enough for him to consider the deal sealed. "You'll see me again," he continues, turning to make his exit from the scene, and likely the park as well, "I still owe you a snow cone, and I don't want my subjects to go wanting."