Magic Tricks


kendall_icon.gif ziadie_icon.gif

Scene Title Magic Tricks
Synopsis Even a little magic trick to keep warm is good in the face of the weather.
Date January 10, 2011

The Bronx

The light is turning orange as the sun heads westwards, pulling dark shadows along the ground with it. Scientifically, sunsets are red because as the light travels through the thicker atmosphere, the shorter wavelengths are dissipated, leaving only the longer ones such as red and orange, but it's pretty anyway. It's not quite sunset, though, it's still got a good 20 minutes or so. And this is the time for a lot of people to get off work. One such person is Kendall, leaving one of his two jobs, in this case the comic book store, and turning to head homewards. He pauses, though, to look towards the horizon. Even over such a place as this, it's still pretty.

Several stores over is a small convenience store. and Ziadie walks out. For an old man, he's walking rather quickly, but he's not exactly looking where he's going. The hand that doesn't hold the cane is carrying a mid-sized plastic bag, and he's humming to himself as he walks. Loudly. Thankfully, though, even if he's not paying attention, he manages not to walk straight into Kendall.

"I'm so sorry," he says, instead having managed to stop right in front of the young man, and definitely in the other's personal space.

Kendall stumbles back a foot or two, blinking at Ziadie. The bag is eyed, then the cane, and then the old man himself. Oh, an old man. "Need any help carrying that?" he offers, since he had a proper upbringing where you, y'know, respect old people. Because they're old.

Upon closer look, what seemed to be one mid-sized bag is actually several bags, and Ziadie pauses for a minute. It would seem that he's not so used to people offering to help, or anything. Finally, he nods. "I …" he pauses again, then continues. "Yes, thank you. If it's not out of your way, and such." The old man's voice is slightly rough, and he sounds tired.

"Eh, I can be home at any time, they don't really care." Kendall replies, taking bags if they're held out to him. "I mean, so long as it's within walking distance and isn't in, like… New Jersey or something." even though New Jersey is right across the river, more or less.

Ziadie nods, and lets the teen take two of the four bags. The shape of the two he keeps would suggest that there're things in those bags that a minor probably shouldn't be carrying. "I'm going back down to Harlem," he says. "Not what I'd consider walking distance, but …" The older man lets the statement hang in mid-air, rather than say aloud his gripe with the buses requiring Registration cards and all that.

"Eh, it's fine. I'd rather walk, myself." Kendall knows about that too! "And Harlem's not too far away from where I live." actually, it is, but eh. "Though I hope we don't get mugged." Kendall's good for hiding, not so much fighting. Huh, he should fix that. Surely SOMEONE in New York knows ninja skills. That way, he can hide and fight!

Ziadie nods, and shrugs slightly. "Big streets, main streets. I've come t' like walking." As if that's the answer to not getting mugged. "We won't get mugged." He seems rather certain of this, actually, though his words slur a bit. Then again, the several medals pinned to the older man's jacket might suggest he knows how to take care of himself, and possibly others, even if he is getting on in years.

Kendall looks at the man curiously, then just shrugs his shoulders. Maybe he knows kung fu or something, old guys always know stuff like that even if they aren't Asian. He just saw RED recently, after all, and that had a bunch of badass old guys in it. "Well if they do come to mug us, I can help to get us away, at the very least."

Once more, Ziadie nods to the kid, keeping a pretty steady pace as they walk. "I haven't been bothered in a long time," he says. "And walking with someone safer than walkin' alone." If anyone were paying close enough attention, though, the old guy walks like a cop. At least when he's sober.

Kendall is oblivious to such things, having never even met a cop in his life, much less run afoul of any. Well, not unless you count the military he kind of… got shot and killed by. But he got better. "Oh, must be nice. I've probably been running from all kinds of people for a few years." Sigh.

Ziadie smiles, slightly. It's a kind smile, overall, though the old man seems distracted and has taken up humming again. Auld Lang Syne, if anyone so musically inclined as to be able to recognise it comes around. He's not bad at the humming, nor off key too much. "Don't know 'bout nice, too much." He shrugs. Walking in cordial silence with someone else is nice, he supposes. Especially walking in cordial silence with someone else carrying two of his grocery bags.

Kendall shrugs his shoulders as well, hefting both bags. About this time, he wishes he grabbed his gloves. Oh well, he'll survive. Maybe he can improvise. Bringing his hands together, he closes his eyes, and mimes opening an invisible package, pulling something out of it, shaking it, and stuffing it into an equally imaginary glove. Ah, much better. Sure, he can still get frostbite, but….

Ziadie watches the young boy curiously, with a half amused smile on his face, and whatever curiosity the older man might have is restrained. He doesn't have gloves either, despite the warning of the approaching storm that he heard on the radio in the convenience store, but he doesn't seem to notice the cold. Still, he takes the time that Kendall is putting on the imaginary gloves to switch his cane to the hand that had the two bags he'd retained, and the bags to the hand that had had the cane.

"Want one?" Kendall asks, holding out a closed fist. "It'll make your hands feel warm." at first glance, there doesn't seem to be anything in Kendall's hand, but then he does a little spin with the fist, and a handwarmer appears. And Kendall isn't quite lying, but he's not quite telling the truth, either.

With a little quirk of his eyebrows upward, Ziadie nods. He might as well humour the kid, after all. He takes the handwarmer, with a little bit of surprise playing on his face that he can, as far as he can tell, hold it, and shifts the bags to his arm from in his hand. A smile spreads across the older man's face, slowly. "So it does," he muses, mostly to himself. "Much obliged."

Kendall grins. "I've got plenty." he splays out a hand, and one appears between each of his fingers, then he forms a fist and they vanish, and he shows his empty hand. "Just a little magic trick." yeah, so he's showing off, so what. He's still carrying the bags, and no one's paying much attention.

"Neat trick," Ziadie replies, though he unconsciously scans the sidewalks for anyone who might be paying attention. He seems satisfied enough that no one is actually paying attention, in the end. "Trick or not, it's warm." He taps his foot impatiently as they wait to cross a street where the signal is taking a particularly long time to change, and then winces slightly as they pass a row of several small storefront churches, pausing in walking to rub his head slightly.

Kendall lifts his eyebrows at the old man's reaction to the churches, but doesn't comment. After all, he didn't draw attention to Kendall's little magic trick. "It'll last until you forget about it." he comments casually. "But you tend to remember stuff like warm hands when it's this cold outside."

"Just a bit 'f a headache." Headache, yeah. Ziadie did wait to pause until he was a bit away from the row of churches, and he rubs his temples slowly before shaking his head a bit and gesturing for them to continue. As they walk, people seem to give the old man (and his companion) a decently wide berth, often stepping aside for him. They pass a street corner with a billboard for some movie, and he winces again, though this time he doesn't stop.

"You sure?" Kendall scrutinizes the billboard but it doesn't seem to be anything unusual. Oh well, whatever. Everyone avoiding them does get noticed, however, and he looks at them curiously. What, does this guy have an anti-person field or something? Kendall doesn't feel like he's being pushed away.

Ziadie nods, and smiles. The smile isn't too forced, either. "Jus' a headache." At least he's warm along with his headache. The headache's bifold, partially from whomever inside the churches was not being truthful and partially from the fact that the old man hasn't had a drink all day, but he won't tell that to his companion.

"If you say so." Kendall sounds skeptical, but then falls silent again. Well the guy did say it was a bit of a hike. Trying not to seem like he's snooping, Kendall takes a surreptitious glance into the bags he's holding. Oh.

Ziadie simply doesn't notice whether Kendall looks or not. The older man is paying attention most to where he's walking, making sure that he doesn't trip over the uneven sidewalk or walk into anything. As they walk, a bus goes by in the very same direction, and Ziadie shakes his head, more to himself than anything else. The smile returns after the bus goes by, though.

"So why is it that everyone's avoiding us, anyway?" Kendall asks abruptly, as that very question has been eating away at him the entire time. He's pretty curious, and stuff like that is like a burr.

The question hangs in the air, almost heavy, and then Ziadie shrugs. He doesn't look quite like he's homeless anymore, since he's cleaned up a bit, but that's probably it. "I …" he searches for the right words. "A lot of people try not to walk too near to people who seem like they might be homeless," he says, finally, and shrugs once more. "They think people who're less … well kept … dangerous." He's trying to be politically correct, yet without putting it nicely enough that it could be considered lying. After all, Kendall is young enough that he can't be expected to know these things. "That, an' they avoid strangers, much 'f the time."

Kendall shakes his head. "Well there's more of those than not these days. But I guess… unless you're just saying that and there's another reason, but if you don't want to say, well, that's fine too."

Ziadie tilts his head and looks at the kid. He does stand out in the crowd, being slightly taller than most, and of darker skin than many. "There are, but people are slow to adjust." Whether or not there's another reason, he doesn't say. "It … is not as bad as it was, though. If that it made a more honest city, now that would be saying something." Ziadie pauses in talking, content to walk in silence, though maybe he's just pausing because he wouldn't be heard over the construction of the block they're approaching anyway.

"What, you mean the Evolved?" Kendall might be somewhat naive, saying that out loud and all. "But it's difficult to tell who is and who isn't, unless they're doing something."

"Perhaps," comes the response. The older man once again considers his words. "If anything, though, recent years have made people less honest." He's not quite entirely talking to Kendall. It seems partially that he's more musing to himself. "Then again, I suppose very few would notice the difference quite as I do." There, he said it. Sort of.

"Well everyone's different. I just wish people would realize that. Everyone has something they can do that no one else can, even the ones who aren't Evolved. But I don't expect the world to change just because I wish it, so… oh well." Kendall sighs.

Ziadie nods, and awkwardly pats the teenager's shoulder. Then he looks at the street sign, and pauses. "I am going this way," he says. It's a smaller street, with no outlet. "I am much obliged, as I said, and it was nice to meet you." He ducks a nod, and then waits to take the bags back from Kendall before walking off.

"Yeah, same." Kendall replies, handing off the bags. "Keep warm." he adds, then settles his jacket around himself a bit better and sets off, continuing in the same direction they were just walking. Well his walk is a bit farther, but whatever.

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