Participants:
| Scene Title | Uppity |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Two Red Sox fans from Boston (redundant) meet at the Nite Owl and get into a discussion about Evolved politics. Ben is pro-Evolved, Sabrina is anti, and only one of them is evolved. It ain't Ben. |
| Date | May 7, 2009 |
It's a diner.
Diners are always popular for breakfast so by the time Sabrina's managed to get a seat at the counter she's running late and annoyed about it. "Coff—" she starts to say, raising a hand halfway to try and get the attention of a server that bustles right by. "Wonderful." Is the accompanying mutter as she turns her coffee cup rightside up and nudges it forward as a hint.
It's a squinty Ben that shuffles into the diner Thursday morning, backpack over one shoulder and Red Sox cap jammed on his head. He's tired. It's been a long shift. Serendipity being what it is, he makes his way to the counter and hauls himself up on the stool beside Sabrina's, giving her a little nod, faint smile, and unzipping his backpack to start digging around in it. There's some dark blue clothing in it - a uniform, all wadded up.
"Do you have any sug-, and there she goes again." Sabrina says as her mug is finally filled, sliding it back towards herself and glancing around to see if there's a container of convenient sugar anywhere. Ben's nod and his hat are noted. "Pretty brave wearing that hat in New York."
Ben fishes a thick, thick paperback out of the backpack and sets it on the counter, the faint smile returning. "I guess I just walk on the wild side. That and I rarely get mugged before two o'clock." There is sugar just past Ben's left elbow.
"Would you mind passing the sugar thing?" Sabrina asks with a slight gesture towards the canister, glancing at the book with a slight grimace before taking a sip of her sugarless coffee. "I think it'd be too much to ask them to get me some half and half. You're braver than I am. I have a hat at home but I only wear it while watching games in the privacy of my own living room."
"Brave or stupid, take your pick," Ben says amiably enough, extending his arm and picking up the sugar to pass to her. "They're usually a little better in here. Looks like one of the usual guys is out. Might be running short-handed. You're a Sox fan? Not from Boston, are you?"
Sabrina accepts the sugar and starts pouring it into her mug. By the time she sets it down to stir it all up with a spoon there's more sugar than coffee in there. "Keep your voice down. I don't want to get mugged." She takes a sip and seems satisfied with the blend, even without half and half. "Yeah, originally. My father still hasn't forgiven me for taking up in Yankees territory. I tried to tell him I was just trying to tip the scales for the Sox in the land of the Evil Empire but he still feels like I'm betraying the entire city."
Someone finally comes by with a pot and a mug for Ben, filling it quickly and not really lingering to see if he wants something else. Bad service today; Ben looks a little like he might sigh, but he just rubs his eye with the palm of his hand and sucks back a gulp of steaming coffee like it's lukewarm. "You could start a resistance," he says, though he glances around and adds, "Or maybe not. I'm Ben, by the way."
"Sabrina. And I think the city has more than its fair share of resistances right now." She picks up a plastic covered menu but puts it down relatively quickly, giving it only a glance. "So I take it you're from Boston too?"
"Yeah," Ben replies, nudging his book aside since it seems like he'll be talking for once. It is not entirely unpleasant. "I've been here since about November or so. This is actually the first time I've worn the hat out. Haircut later today." He needs it. It's curling at the back. Been here long?"
"Couple years." Sabrina admits with a bit of a shrug. "Long enough to remember the place before it went stark raving mad and to know I ought to pronounce the 'r' in drawer. You're going to get shit for wearing the hat in public. Just like back home if someone wore a Yankees anything on Newbury. Or, god forbid, near Fenway."
"So you're saying I should go with the hat hair instead?" Ben seems a little amused, though it fades soon enough. "Sorry about seeing the city…" implode? Explode? Bad term. "Go down. What is it you do?" He has another sip of coffee, leaning waaaay over to snag a little bowl full of milk packets from further down the counter once a biker gets up to leave. He nudges it between himself and Sabrina.
Sabrina wastes no time in picking up a couple of those packets to dump into her coffee. "Thanks. This stuff is vile but it keeps me going." There's a glance to the clock since it isn't getting her going anywhere on time today. "I work for a non-profit. We try to coordinate with construction companies and architectural firms to get them to come up with plans and things we can present to the city. There's a lot of grant writing involved since there's no spare capital anywhere these days to pay for rebuilding anything. And since buildings keep exploding due to terrorist activity, it's an uphill process." She pauses to take a sip of her newly stirred drink. "No one wants to put time and money into a project that's just going to, literally, explode in their faces. How about you?"
Ben's eyebrows go up. "I never really thought about it that way. Makes sense, though." He has another sip of coffee, holds up two fingers to try to summon a waitress. He gets one and quietly orders an omelette. "I'm an EMT. I run around trying to patch people up after explosions."
Jumping on the opportunity to get something to eat, Sabrina also adds an order of toast onto that. "Sounds like we work on the flip sides of the coin. Terrorists keep me out of business but I imagine it's booming for you. Pardon the pun." She twists the mug around so it can more comfortably be held between her hands. "So, Tufts then? Or were you Harvard Medical?"
Ben shifts on his stool, glancing down at his coffee cup. "Harvard Medical," he says, reaching up to swipe his nose with the back of his hand. So you're not an architect yourself?"
Sabrina shakes her head. "No, I graduated with a degree in history back in 2000. I bet it'll surprise you to know there's not a great demand for those in the work force. I had a job with a law firm before the whole thing happened," she makes a 'poof' like gesture with one of her hands. "But after that it was just crazy. Did a lot of volunteer work with the refugee centers. Kind of stumbled upon this job by accident, but I'm good with figures and forecasts and begging people for money apparently. I always secretly wanted to try medical school. Or maybe law school. Too much reading though."
Ben considers her a moment, then nods. He looks like he might say something, but what he says next doesn't seem to be the thing he was thinking about saying. "I always wanted to be better at math. But I love reading, so I guess that worked out for both of us."
"I grew out of the reading thing." Sabrina offers in a vague sort of way, accepting a plate of buttered toast when it arrives. "College sort of set me off of it. Too much time reading things I didn't care for. Being an EMT must be pretty tough around here. Busy. Kudos to you for the efforts."
"Kudos to you for helping refugees," Ben tells her with an inclination of his head and a little raise of his mug. He has an omlette now, so he has another sip of coffee before putting it down and picking up knife and fork to dig in. "You grew out of reading," he repeats, with the air of someone who can't quite believe something. Growing out of reading? What? Purple pigs, you say? "Huh. Too bad."
Sabrina tears off pieces of crust from around the toast, focusing on eating just the center, buttered part of the bread. "I read a lot." She says by way of explanation. "Ran out of things I found interesting. Then my job ate my life and hobbies got dropped along the wayside. If I pick up a book I might want to be a normal girl again and then where would all my dead end projects be?"
Purple pigs. Running out of things to find interesting? Ben just nods a little. "I get it," he says, even though he doesn't, really. "What kinds of projects?"
"Community centers and parks are the big thing right now," Sabrina says, scratching the side of her neck while polishing off one of the toast pieces. "Trying to get the family feel back into the areas that've been hit hard. Get kids off the streets and you hopefully get them out of the violence that's out there if not save them from being recruited. Give them a place to go where they can be surrounded by hard working, normal people." There's something in the way she says 'normal' that makes it mean more than it should. "Give them a leg up on making something of themselves with creative outlets in a save environment. That kind of thing."
Ben picks up on that. Normal. His eyebrows go up a little again and he chews thoughtfully, weighing whether he wants to get into this and, if so, how much. Finally, he swallows and says, "Community building places. Not-normal people don't get to be part of the community?"
"Not-normal people are usually too busy blowing things up," Sabrina scoffs, taking another sip of her coffee. She nudges the mug forward on the counter afterwards since she wants a refill. "I'd like to see kids about to enjoy themselves as kids without worrying that John Junior's dad is going to take offense to him winning the four-square game and setting him on fire with his mind or whatever."
Ben does sigh now, quietly, into his coffee cup. "That's the minority, the ones blowing things up. Of the not-normals. And if we're talking about the not-normals I think we're talking about, plenty of normal people blow things up without benefit of special abilities. I can't condone segregation. It leads to fear. Lots of people with abilities have ones that can help people and they shouldn't have to be afraid to use them."
Great. Sabrina gives the remainder of her toast a sour look at the conversation turn and finishes up tearing off the crusts of the last slice. "Go ahead and tell me the last time a regular person detonated a bomb of such disastrous effect in a major US city." She challenges. "If there are Evolved out there that can help people, why do they need to wave a banner around about it? Just go do it and keep your head down and stop blowing up buildings to demand attention."
"Again, minority," Ben says, jaw tightening. "Not to the same degree. Yet. Timothy McVeigh. Ted Kaczynski. And if those people who do have beneficial abilities don't step forward - even if it's quietly - the crazy minority are the only ones that speak." He shoves another mouthful of omelette into his mouth. "And the only ones that get heard." He chews more, swallows, and adds, "But stepping forward is a lot braver than wearing a Sox cap in New York City, so I can see why a lot of people wouldn't."
"Timothy McVeigh blew up one building. One." Sabrina points out, brushing the crumbs from her fingers and back onto the plate. "And Kaczynski sent, what, small packages in the mail? Hundreds of thousands of people died here. Those who were left had their lives ruined; their jobs and family lost. That's not even taking into account the whole radiation thing that's still going on. Stepping forward to announce you have an ability is stupid, not brave. Those people ought to be ashamed of what is more than likely some sort of defect. There's a reason they're a minority."
"There are abilities that are capable of great good," Ben replies, fork held in mid-air as he's distracted from his meal. "Not to mention the choice of whoever has the ability to use it responsibly or not." Like Spiderman! "There are people capable of healing radiation, for one thing. People who can manipulate or create metal who could build your buildings faster. People who can make a dirt lot grow into a park overnight. In the end it's still people responsible for their own actions and what they do to the community at large. An 'us versus them' attitude doesn't help anyone at all. Alienating people is never a good idea, abilities or not."
"There's a reason why even in the fictional world Superman had a secret identity." Sabrina counters, pushing her plate full of crusts and crumbs towards the edge of the counter so it can be picked up. "Faster isn't necessarily a good thing. Just ask a teamster. And if you want to get all schoolyard about it, they started it. They could've had normal lives just pretending to be normal. But no. They had to get all uppity and start blowing shit up. I don't care if you say you know the nicest, most docile cobra in the world. I'm still not going to want it in my house or in a school near kids."
"Uppity," Ben repeats. He pinches the bridge of his nose, turns to his food, and makes quick work of it. "Faster, better, more securely, with less risk, whatever. If you're going to go comic book, try the X-Men. It's more suited to this situation." He picks up his book, tucking it back into his bag, and starts fishing around in his pockets for his wallet. "Well, it's time for me to get a haircut. Have a good day, Sabrina."
"With less risk until it explodes." Sabrina replies, voice a bit tight now. "If I remember correctly, there's a whole 'kill all regular humans' movement at least a couple times in that series. In a world where we don't actually have super heroes on our side, you're going to have to forgive me if I side with the people that want things to go back to normal. You have fun with that hat of yours, Ben."
Ben tugs the hat down a little more firmly on his head. "Don't worry. If someone comes after me, I'll just point to the person next to me and say they're Evolved," he mutters, shouldering his backpack again.
"When they set you on fire with their mind for outing them, maybe I'll visit you in the hospital." Sabrina takes another sip of coffee and doesn't look at him. She can't catch a break in public establishments these days it seems.
Ben considers that a moment, opens his mouth, closes it, and then inclines his head. "I suppose I'll just have to man up and stick up for the Sox, then."
"With those curls? I think the Sox would politely decline your public support." Sabrina says, turning just slightly on the stool so she can look over her shoulder at him. "You don't like the idea of segregation, but even the nomenclature suggests we ought to think they're somehow better than us. Evolved. You're DOS and they're Windows 7. You know what people do when they upgrade? They get rid of the obsolete product. That's you and me."
Ben hitches his bag on his shoulder. "I believe otherwise," is all he says. He refrains from reaching back to pat the hair curling under his baseball cap. He considers saying more, or at least looks like he is, but he doesn't. He waits.
Sabrina finishes up her second cup of coffee and starts patting her jeans down for a couple crumpled bills. "Apparently. That's the fun of living here, right? No one ever agrees until it's too late."
Ben holds back a sigh, at least until after he's out the door.