2013.06.03 - Curioser and Curioser

It's been a rainy Sunday, and that shows in Central Park. While it's far from deserted, it's still notably less crowded than a sunny Sunday in early summer. The rain has stopped, for a while at least, and Fern's umbrella is closed, tapping lightly on the ground as a pseudo walking cane as the young woman ambles along. Joggers pass by without note, and she veers off the path, heading into a copse of trees where she knows a little brook can be found. It's always quiet there, like uncharted territory, even though all it takes is a glance up to see the skyscrapers towering over everything. 
Picking her way along a path that almost doesn't exist, she's careful not to let her skirt snag on any of the branches that reach out to say hello. She's prepared for the weather, at least, wearing a purple raincoat over the skirt and a light blue t-shirt, her feet covered in wellington boots with big retro flowers decorating them. Fern pauses as she reaches the brook, looking up into the trees to pinpoint where the birds are calling. 
There is a rustling nearby as another park inhabitant seems to be wandering off the path. Eventually a silhouette can be seen through the gaps in the trees, walking slowly and deliberately. It doesn't seem like they're looking for the brook as much as they're looking to stay out of sight from the main path altogether. 
The young man's progress is also slowed down by the baggy clothes he's wearing, not something one should wear when wandering off the path. Branches do snag at the baggy pant legs, and a muffled curse here and there can be heard as he advances, shaking the cloth loose.
While she's been in the city long enough to have learned to be cautious, Fern still hasn't quite gotten the hang of that. It could be anyone approaching through the brush, and most New Yorkers, especially women alone, would high-tail it out of there, pronto. Alas, Fern stubbornly holds on to her Ohio roots, and she waits until the figure nears enough to hear a not-shouted greeting. "Hi," is offered into the afternoon air, the single syllable holding a brightness that the day lacks. Blue eyes are curious, but she doesn't seem to feel threatened. She's seen far more threatening things than a mysterious figure in baggy clothes, truth be told. 
The figure stops immediately as soon as the 'Hi' is proffered. Keith feels his heart racing as he ponders whether or not to return the salute. It was the first time he had dared to come out of this little two mile 'patrol area' since his transformation a few months back, and he was already regretting it. The fear that someone might pull at his hoodie and show is true appearance was a constant worry. He decided that not answering would be far too suspicious. Turning slightly to the figure, he raises a gloved hand and says "Er... Hello?" 
He Hopes that the hoodie is pulled over his face enough to help hide his purpleness in combination with the rather large sunglasses. "... I didn't see you there." His voice was muffled by all of the cloth, but it wasn't hard to understand.
As the baggy form acknowledges and turns toward her, Fern's smile widens, disarming to most with it's open friendliness. "It's hard to see people in the trees, now that the leaves are all back. Much easier in winter, even off the paths like this." Her tone is pleasant, mirroring her smile, and she stands where she is, making no move toward her new companion. Instead her head tilts again, eyes going back to the treetops. "There's a family of woodpeckers around here somewhere. I've heard them tapping at the trees." A lingering drop of rain falls from a high leaf, plopping into the center of her forehead as if it was aimed, and she merely turns her head enough to let it roll off to one side. 
Keith seems a little uncertain how to proceed from this point on. Having been a native of the city since birth, he tends to be puzzled by displays of un-Yorklike friendliness of this sort. Then it occurs to him that it could be a good opportunity to test something. They were alone, and there wasn't a lot of pressure. If he stayed still enough, he wouldn't have to concentrate too hard. "Really?" he says, looking about for the woodpeckers as he slowly reaches up to take his sunglasses off, all the while thinking to himself 'Easy... easy. It's just a matter of practice. Rememeber what you used to look like? Put it in your head. Now... put it out... into the world... like so....'
As he takes off his sunglasses slowly, there is a momentary hint of purple, but it could have been a trick of the light, because as he looks around it is clear that he has fair, freckled skin, and two green eyes looking out into the world. He waits to see Fern's reaction, to see if the illusion worked or not.
Fern's eyes drop to Keith, taking in the slowness of his movements, her smile tempering a bit as she watches him. She catches that little glimpse of purple, head tilting as it's there and gone, and then she's just looking into the face of a young man vaguely around her age, by appearance. Even though one brow lifts, her smile regains it's strength. Purple would be no shock to her. "I haven't been able to pinpoint them yet, but I know they're up there somewhere." She pauses, then goes on. "I'm Fern." At least she seems to know enough not to offer her hand willy nilly to strangers in the park, but she still doesn't look to be on guard. 
Keith O'Neil looks at her for a second. "I'm Keith" he says, and reaches out to lower his hoodie, quickly thinking---- hair, red, like he used to have... human ears. No cat ears..... as he lowers his hoodie, that's what appears--- red hair and human ears. Though there are a few spots where his hair is tinged with purple. He smiles at her, relaxing a little as he grows more comfortable into the illusion. "You're from out of town, right?"
A nod comes quickly to the question, Fern's hair shifting enough so that she has to raise a hand and push it away from her eyes. "Ohio. I've been here a while," 
but clearly not long enough to have changed her habits. "I'm an actress." There's a hint of pride in the words, and she doesn't bother to add on that she's really more of a waitress still. If the touches of purple are noticed they go without comment for now as she returns a question. "Are you from here?" 
Keith O'Neil nods "Yeah... Morrisania. I don't... get to come up here very often. It's a bit of a break. You know, you shouldn't be saying hi to strangers when you're by yourself," he says, keeping his focus up to maintain his illusion. "It's kinda dangerous in this city." 
He feels relieved... as long as nothing comes to disturb his attention, he feels he can maintain the illusion for a while.
Fern's smile widens into a grin at the caution from Keith, and she can't help a soft laugh. "Yeah, I've found out a lot about that, actually." She sobers, her eyes thoughtful, "Funny, though, it's not been the people I've started talking to that have been the most dangerous." She doesn't elaborate, not aware that this isn't just 'another New Yorker'. Some of the things she's seen just wouldn't be understood by most people, and she doesn't talk about them openly, despite her nature. There's a rustle in the trees, and a chattering.... a squirrel, perhaps scolding them for disturbing nap time, but it doesn't draw Fern's attention away. 
Keith tilts his head slightly, and he's glad to see the illusion holds. He's discovered that putting an illustion over yourself and moving is much more difficult to maintain than creating a free-standing illusion by itself. Overlap... "That's... enigmatic enough, I guess. So, what kind of acting do you do? Straight theater, or do you do musical theater?" His grin widens, without realizing it taking a little of the cheshire grin. "A Broadway triple threat maybe?"
"Whatever job I can land," Fern returns cheerily. "I've studied voice and dance, along with acting, back home." There's a dramatic sigh as she adds, "All I've gotten so far are a couple of off, off, off Broadway parts. In dreadful plays." This actually gets a grimace, as she recalls a play from which she's actually been recognized and which she tries hard to forget. But, typically of her, she brightens again almost immediately. "It's just a matter of time," she says, "And I've got time." There's a quality to Keith's grin that has her head give a slight tip again as she looks at him, but she doesn't question it aloud, instead asking, "What about you? What do you do?" 
"Me? I... I don't really do anything. I guess I should decide on what I want to do with my life, but I still don't know." He says. It was true, in a way. Who he was and who he used to be were two different things. "Until I know, I sort of... help keep people safe. Morrisania's still got a problem with the gangs and I volunteer to improve the place. Haven't really thought about what else I'll do, I don't have a lot of talents." And, he continues in his mind, there isn't exactly a lot of job openings for tall, purple and furry.
His words being a return of Fern's wide grin, and she teases lightly, "So I guess I'm not such a bad judge of who to talk to, if you keep people safe." She considers this for a second, before offering, "I know people who do that, too." The grin disappears suddenly as it occurs to her, "A lot of them, actually. Huh." She's never really thought about it like that before, but she has run into a disproportionately large number of heroes in her relatively short time in the city. She's just thought of all the trouble she's also run into more. She dismisses the line of thought as a light pattering begins in the trees above them, and a few drops filter through the leaves. Still, they are ignored as she looks thoughtfully to Keith again, "You probably just haven't discovered them yet." 
Keith looks at this unusual young woman and chuckles. "Actually, I do know my talents... they're just only useful for... well, what I'm doing right now, let us say. So you know a lot of them? Do you come from a police family?" There's the grin again. "I used to know a few people who were policemen by family."
The red headed girl shakes said head in the negative to the question of family, "No, my dad's a barber, mom's a nurse. The people I know who keep people safe are people I've met here in the city. People with special skills," she ventures, getting an idea that Keith might not be too surprised by that. What it is about that grin that seems almost familiar? The pattering above, the drops that slip through, grow a little more insistent, and Fern raises her umbrella and pushes the button so it *whomps* open. 
Keith doesn't seem to notice the rain... and for that reason, his illusion doesn't reflect it right away. While drops fall where he is, they just... vanish, instead of wetting his hair. "Oh... you mean like the capes? You've actually met 'em?" he says, sounding a little too fanboyish for his own taste. True, he was getting into the 'gig', so to speak, but he saw himself as a little vigilante with little consequence. The people he thought Fern was alluding to were, well... heroes. "Tell me about it?" He sits down by the brook.
Again, if Fern notices the oddness of the rain in relation to Keith, it's not something she brings up. She picks her way over to where he sits, then nudges a flat rock closer to him with one foot as she talks. "Is that what you call them? I don't think any of the people I know actually wear capes...." The words trail off as she thinks about that, then amends, "Oh, I think Thor has a cape. But mostly not." She plops down onto the stone, holding the umbrella high enough to afford them both shelter. "I've met Warren Worthington, he's got wings like an angel. And Kurt Wagner, he's blue and kinda fuzzy." She doesn't offer code names because she doesn't really know any of their code names. "Neither one of them wear capes," she amends. 
Keith chuckles "Blue and fuzzy. I can see that... well... Superman wears a cape, doesn't he? But I guess most really don't wear capes... you probably trip over those things, right?" he chuckles. Now that he is warming up to the girl, he starts unraveling his reservation a little more. "I wouldn't call what I do remotely like anything they do. I can't jump over tall buildings in a single bound... though a guy I dated once did say I was faster than a speeding bullet..." he trails off, and then laughs, his grin coming back again, "Though I don't know if that was meant as a compliment..."
That brings a surprised laugh from Fern, and a little pink to her cheeks, her head ducking to hide the color. "I'm sure it was," she reassures with a giggle. But her curiosity comes to the fore, and she looks to Keith without turning her head more than it takes to study him from the corner of her eye. "So what do you do?" she questions, the words coming gently. 
Keith bites his lip for a moment, and then looks around, making sure there aren't any other guests coming in. "... you really want to know?" He seemed to entertain the notion. She had met Blue Fuzzy Guy, after all. Just add red and that could be him.
Fern looks around too, sharing the conspiracy of the moment, and as her attention settles fully back on Keith she nods. "If you want to share." She won't push if he doesn't want to, but she's sure not going to say no. Still, she's quick to add," But if you don't want to, it's ok. I won't hit you with my umbrella or anything." The gleam in her eyes matches the light tease that again takes her words. 
Keith smirks "Alright... alright. Just give me a moment... this gives me a headache." He closes his eyes and exhales for a moment, dismissing the illusion and relieved of it. The image of the young redhead fades away almost instantly, leaving his usual cheshire self "... I'm purple... and fuzzy."
While her eyes widen slightly, Fern doesn't look about to run away in horror as the young man's true catlike self is revealed. And it only takes a second for her grin to return. "You are. That's a neat trick, too. Kurt, the blue guy I mentioned? He's got a device that can put up an illusion like that. He was concerned that when we were out together people wouldn't like it if he were all blue and stuff." She shrugs, a casual gesture, "Didn't matter to me, I don't care what people think." There's a pause, blue eyes taking in the new visage before her, before she finally comments, "I like the shade of purple you are. It suits you." 
Keith brushes his hair out of his face and looks at her for a second, studying her features. "I don't have a device... I have to *think* it into being... like this..." a second later, Fern is looking at herself before the illusion vanishes. "I've only been like this for a few months... I'm cheshire cat. As crazy as that sounds..."
This would be the second time that Fern has found herself literally keeping company with herself, the first time being when her neighbor Gabriel revealed his own ability to her. "That's very cool," she says, grinning. When he goes on, her eyes widen again, not slightly but very obviously. "That's why your grin seemed so familiar!" She laughs, seeming to take all this in stride, "Please. Not much seems crazy any more." 
"You'd be surprised... actually, I'm surprised you're not surprised, but then again, if you've met the people you've met, you're probably in the jaded minority." 
He smirks. "I don't have a lot of experience doing this, really. This is the first time I've lef Morrisania since I changed. You're the first person I've spoken to in that much time. Well... criminals don't count. All they seem to want to say is to call my parentage into question."
Fern waves the hand not holding the umbrella in a dismissive gesture. "Most criminals have very little imagination, the only thing they can come up with is stuff like that. Tiny minds." To demonstrate, the waved hand is now held up, thumb and index finger held just a hair apart. When she drops it back to rest on her leg, she can't resist pushing just a little further. "So, like.... Alice in Wonderland cheshire?" 
Keith laughs at the hand gesture "Don't ever do that to a guy, by the way" he winks "... um... yeah. I mean, I was dying and I heard a voice in my head... the next thing I know, this..." h takes his pendant out from under his shirt--- a pendant in the semblance of the Cheshire Cat "...starts glowing like crazy. And the next moment I'm not dead, and like this."
The comment draws Fern's giggle out again, and a promise, "Oh no, I know better than that when discussing other things." Again, she goes right from a giggle to a serious study of the pendant, leaning forward to peer at it. Then she sits back, looking back to the fuzzy purple countenance of her new friend. "That's pretty cool. I've always loved the Wonderland story." 
Keith puts the pendant back into his shirt, looking around to make sure they were still alone. "Thing is, the change? It changed more than just my body and the stuff I can do. I mean... how can I explain? Alright... let's say, you've got your family, and you know they're your family and you love them, right? And when you think of things that you've done with them, the memories are always yours?"
The light pattering on the umbrella above them slowly tapers off again, and it takes Fern a few more moments to realize it's stopped entirely, engrossed in the conversation she's having with Keith. There's a light frown in concentration as she listens, then acknowledges, "Uh huh..." 
Keith pauses before continuing. "It's not the same for me. I mean, I remember who I used to be just fine, but all of that? It's like watching the documentary of someone else's life. I've got a family... but I really don't feel anything for them, all of the emotions behind the memories are not mine anymore. I'm me, but all of the ties that tied me to my past aren't in here..." he taps his forehead. "I couldn't go back to my family. Thankfully they think I died in a fire."
The fact that her emotions show so clearly is a large part of what makes Fern even as successful as she's been to date, and it's the ability that may take her the farthest in her dreamed of career. Her face falls, brows drawing together, distress creasing her forehead. "Oh Keith, I'm so sorry." Clearly, to her, that would be an awful thing to face. Her hand comes up again, this time to softly pat the young man's upper arm, a gentle attempt at consolation that may or may not be necessary or welcomed. 
Keith chuckles "It's ok... I mean... I don't *feel* anything about that. If I had emotional attachments to my past, I'd be sorry. But I don't... honestly, I prefer they think I died a hero than to have to deal with the bundle of crazy I've become." He tries to give her reassurance by smiling. He had been wanting to talk to someoen for a while... of course, it ended up being someone who didn't have the jaded bitterness of most native Yorkers. "... it has its drawbacks. I'm living out of an abandoned warehouse... very Post Industrial Chic." he giggles.
It still takes a moment for the distress on Fern's face to lighten. She finally does realize the pattering has stopped, taking a second to tilt the umbrella aside, letting the last droplets fall as she gives it a gentle shake and closes it. It's set next to her, and she looks back to Keith. "Really, in a warehouse?" she asks, smile resurfacing. "I have a friend who's kind of doing the same. I stay over there sometimes." 
Keith nods "Yeah... it's just some old warehouse on Park Avenue. I start my route from there--- Montrose avenue, East 163rd, up Trinity and then I make my way back. I've got a mattress and a mirror I got from the dump... and whatever clothes I'm wearing and food I have I sort of..." he pauses, looking a little ashamed "I have to take them from stores at night... but I've got a list of what I've taken and from whom. When I find a way to make money, I'm going to pay them back. I just don't know exactly what it is that I'm going to be doing."
There's only understanding, not judgment, on Fern's face at this admission. "Hey, sometimes you have to bend some rules to survive," she says gently. "You certainly don't seem to be doing it just because you can." There's a soft dinging, which a keen ear could easily tell is coming from the pocket of Fern's raincoat. "Oh!" She digs into the pocket, pulling out her phone, silencing the alarm with the press of one button. "I have to meet a friend, that's my reminder," she explains. The phone is returned to the pocket, and a card drawn out and offered to Keith. "This is where I work." It's a card for a restaurant called Anita Bella, the address in Brooklyn. "Come by sometime, yes?" 
Keith takes the card and looks at it, nodding. "I will... if you don't mind thoroughly bundled customers. Keeping up the illusion of me talking requires concentration. I'm afraid I'd slip." he chuckles a little.
Fern pushes to her feet, quickly brushing down her skirt, shaking out her raincoat, before bending to retrieve her umbrella. The grin is back. "Not a problem. And if it's slow, you won't have to worry about it. Julius and Anita are used to my colorful friends." Colorful both literally and figuratively. Now she does extend her hand toward her cheshire companion to shake, "And you better come by soon, Keith." 
Keith shakes her hand and grins, "Alright, alright, I promise I'll come, Fern. Cheshire word. Now, be careful, though... and don't talk to crazy people..." he decides to give his new friend a show, and winks. "After all... we're all mad here." And with that, he Grins after delivering the quote from the book and becomes transluscent, only his grin staying behind before that, too, disappears as he teleports quietly fifteen feet away into the bushes and hides, hoping that gave her a kick.
Fern nods, making her promise, "I'll be careful." Then she laughs at the show, delight on her face. She doesn't realize he's still there, or maybe he's just invisible.... but she says softly, "Curiouser and curiouser." Then she turns, and makes her way back out to the path in the park.
Category:Log