Polaris
12/1/2007
Like a white dove among crows or a diamond among common rocks, Central Park is a welcome refuge from the otherwise nature-lacking urban jungle of New York...a city that, while still becoming, will never be clean or new again. But here, beauty is to be found amid the plethora of trees and open green space, coalescing with cobbled walkways, dirt paths, and the occasional sudden children's carousel or some such whimsical attribute. A few taverns and cafes line the edges of the park, including the famous Tavern on the Green, and the chance vendor may set up base here during the long summer months. Several rocky protrusions appear to have been purposely placed amid the meadows of Northern Central Park, in lieu of benches.
In the wake of a drop of temperature, Central Park is a bit emptier than is usual. Still, there are the truly dedicated, the joggers, the strollers, and most importantly, those who slave to an animal that demands a daily walk. Elizabeth Kane is one of the latter, and in the early hours of the dark she's claimed a bench while Lethe explores at the end of its length, rather more than is legally allowed at the moment. She's bundled well, in wool coat and thick scarf and comfortable gloves, hair left loose around her ears, and her attention wanders lazily to those who pass on the path rather than her pet.
Polaris has hands in the pockets of her motorcycle jacket, stylized starburst bright across the back of the leather. At the moment, her eyes are closed, but when another person impinges on her senses--EM field, watch, key, etc, etc, she opens them again, so as not to look weird. She blinks in surprise at Lethe, finding a cat on the end of the metal leash fittings, not a dog as she had expected.
And what a cat! Large, with oversized ears that turn like dishes at the slightest sound and golden eyes that glow interest as her head sweeps around to catch Polaris in her stare. Silver fur glints in the street lamps as the cat pads a few steps forward, enough to catch Elizabeth's attention, and the woman turns to follow her cat's gaze. Brown eyes settle on Polaris, and her lips curl into a quiet smile at recognition.
"What is that, a cougar?" Lori comes a little closer, but wary of the cat's personal space, she stops well short, looking at it with her hands still in her pockets.
Lethe enjoys her personal space, and as such gives Lori an approving sound before she turns away and pads off to explore something rustling in the leaves. Elizabeth's brows arch slightly, and her voice is warmly amused when she asks, "A cougar? I don't think they give licenses for them."
Polaris snorts lightly. "I don't they'd walk on a leash either. But then, I didn't know /any/ cats walked on leashes." With Lethe a little farther away, she closes to more comfortable conversational distance. "So what is it?"
"Lethe prefers it to the apartment," Elizabeth points out with a certain mild dryness. The cat glances back toward the pair now and then, but doesn't bother to approach. She'd rather pounce. "She is a Savannah cat. They are quite trainable, actually."
Polaris extends fingers in case the cat wants to come and sniff, but she doesn't look like she thinks its very likely. "So--African? How'd you get her?"
"Ah, no. Domestic breed. Part serval, actually. There are breeders." There's a pause as Elizabeth breathes an amused noise and then she adds, "She's not terribly fond of strangers, I'm sorry."
"Well, I'm not good with cats." Lori shrugs, and Lethe's collar tags jingle. Just from the cat's movement, of course. "Is she attack trained?" Lori grins.
Elizabeth laughs briefly, and the joke goes unanswered in the wake of the sound, although the shake of Elizabeth's head might be denial, or might be part of the laughter.
"Anyway. Makes my walk a bit more interesting. Attack cats in Central Park and all." Lori runs a hand through her hair, making the green stand out even more as she makes it catch the light.
"She does make quite an impression, doesn't she?" Elizabeth wonders before turning her attention more fully to Lori. "It's a bit cold for a casual stroll," she notes. "Am I holding you on your way somewhere?"
"Nah. I like to get out and feel wildernessy once in a while. I can't take my bike upstate every single weekend like I'd prefer." Lori shakes her head to resettle her hair.
"Wildernessy? In Central Park?" Elizabeth sounds dubious.
Polaris looks around them. "Hardly. But you know of anywhere better?"
"Hardly," Elizabeth answers with a huff of breath that sends up a white puff of mist. "Why do you live here if you're so fond of the wild?" she wonders.
"Because I like the other parts of the city better." Lori shrugs her shoulders under her broad-shouldered coat. "Girlfriend's here...got a kick-ass gig for a job..."
"What do you do?" Elizabeth wonders, tone genial and polite as she tips her head toward Lori with mild curiousity.
"Bartender. At Purgatory. Heard of it?" Lori peers into the bushes after Lethe again.
"Purgatory." There is a brief flicker of surprise, and then Elizabeth inclines her head toward the positive. Lethe has disappeared behind a tree and is crouched low, watching some undeterminable spot in the distance. "There are more than a few rumors attached to that place," she adds.
Polaris grimaces. "I'm not surprised. Which ones are you thinking of? Good, or bad?"
"I suppose that depends on one's point of view," Elizabeth responds, studying that grimace with interest.
"Would you go there?" Lori tips an amused look at Elizabeth, seeming to have already formed her own conclusions based on the other woman's appearance.
"It doesn't quite seem like my sort of establishment," Elizabeth answers, eyes lit once more with amusement.
Polaris nods. "Why am I not surprised. Wine bar, more your style?" She takes her hands out of her pockets and starts playing around with a starburst keychain.
"Oh, absolutely," Elizabeth confirms, and now a smile plays about her lips. "Really, I prefer places where I can lift my chin high enough to look down on everyone else, you know."
"Oh, well of course. No need to mix with a riff-raff." Lori grins. "But really, security's good there. I haven't had to break up a bar fight since I got hired. No one's puked on my shoes, either."
"Oh, it's not the security I'm concerned about," Elizabeth answers with a faint smile. "However, I'm doubtful about the second claim. I've met a few of your patrons on their way out the door."
"That's why the bar's between me and them." Lori laughs. "Anyway. I know I'm not going to talk you into it."
"Perhaps some weekend when I'm searching for something better than wine," Elizabeth answers, eyes lit on Lori.
Polaris spreads her hands. "Dancing's good. We have some regulars who really show off."
"Do you?" There is a brief pause as Elizabeth considers her companion, and then she wonders, "Do you ever move from behind the bar for that?"
"Eh." Lori mimes a dance move. "Occasionally. It's not really my strength."
"What is?"
"Dancing." Lori eyes the other woman, apparently trying to figure out what else she could mean.
"What is your strength?" Elizabeth clarifies patiently.
"Oh!" Lori looks chargined at the confusion. "Dunno. 'Tending?" She flexes her fingers. "Tinkering with engines?"
"What sort of engines?"
"Bikes. I rebuild 'em." Lori rocks a couple steps, to keep herself moving and warm.
"Really." Mild interest edges into Elizabeth's voice, but for all that it's not quite a question. Instead she adds, "That must take some amount of money."
"Well. Not when you buy them as the beat-up pieces of crap I do. But it's a hobby." Lori shrugs. "Purgatory pays decent."
"Does it? Better than most bartending jobs in the city?"
Polaris tilts her head at Elizabeth. "Why? Rumors again? To be honest, no. But they're not bastards about cutting my hours randomly, like the last place, so."
"I can't say I've heard any rumors about the pay," Elizabeth replies. There's a pause as she lifts her head to search out Lethe, who's tugging at the end of her leash in an effort to wander off after a pile of leaves bustling in the wind, and she snaps a command in Russian that brings the feline padding back to a safer distance. "Just speculation," she adds in clarification.
Polaris raises her eyebrows, inviting expansion on this speculation.
"It is not the safest of working environments," Elizabeth elaborates. A pause and then she adds with a slight smile, "If the rumors are true."
Polaris gives a bark of laughter of relief. "God no. It's the safest place I've ever worked. Like I said, security's serious, and they actually bother to stop stuff before it starts, rather than just wading it when it gets really bad. I've even had one guy chase off some pervert who was refusing to stop trying to get me to follow him to the back."
"You are not at all concerned, then?" Elizabeth's brows lift mildly. "About the potential?"
"For?"
"Any number of things." Brows lift higher.
"I've been in some dives in my time. There's been some pretty scary moments back in my pool-sharking days. I don't really see how this at all compares." Lori eyes her. "What are you getting at?"
"Are you telling me that the rumors are not true, then?" Elizabeth wonders. Mildly.
Polaris sighs. "What, that dangerous /mutants/ sometimes come there?" Lori presses her lips together in anger. "Yeah, I'm shaking in my boots."
"That is a danger, yes," Elizabeth responds, watching anger with quiet interest. "But hardly the only one. I'm certainly not the only person in New York to have heard rumors, after all."
"Thus. Security." Lori's anger fades a little, or at least is supressed better.
"It must be quite good."
Polaris spreads her hands in a bring it on gesture. "You're welcome to test it."
Elizabeth laughs then, a sudden outburst of noise that attracts a glance from Lethe. "I doubt my employers would approve," she replies.
"What do you do?"
"I am a District Attorney. I spend most of my time attempting to send the dangerous sort to prison."
"/Oh/." Lori looks less annoyed. "I guess I can see why you'd start to worry about that kind of thing after a while. Occupational hazard."
"What sort of thing was that?" Elizabeth wonders.
"People attacking some place because there's 'rumors' about mutants going there."
"Ah, yes. Well." Elizabeth's smile is not a particularly pleasant one. "I was not here when Sanctuary was attacked. But most of my colleagues were."
"Can't live your life afraid to show your face outside your apartment." Lori's expression is hard.
"Oh, you certainly can," Elizabeth corrects briefly. Her smile slides into something more comfortable. "But you're right to suggest that you shouldn't."
"Well, yeah. My girlfriend used to be like that. I don't want her to ever have to go back to that." Polaris ducks her chin in an emphatic nod.
"Oh? She is a mutant, then?" Elizabeth wonders.
"Yes." Lori just waits to see how Elizabeth will react to that.
"Of a particularly noticeable sort?" Elizabeth's reaction is rather difficult to gauge.
"I don't even really know who you are," Lori points out.
"You're worrying about that now?" Elizabeth wonders, amusement showing once more.
Polaris mutters something unprintable. "Well, I'm hardly going to be unrecognizable again, if this turns out badly, but I'm not handing you the way to recognize her too."
"It's rather too late for that," Elizabeth points out. "You'd be surprised what people will tell a stranger." She smiles, faintly.
Polaris gives Elizabeth a slickly professional smile, utterly empty. "Aren't you smug?"
"Occasionally," Elizabeth admits, startled into a quiet laugh. "Or so my colleagues tell me."
"I'm sure it wins you many friends." Still, the professional smile.
"I'm very popular," Elizabeth deadpans.
"Mm," Lori agrees. She stuffs her hands into her pockets, and starts to turn to go.
"Elizabeth Kane," the other woman offers on Lori's turn, polite tit for tat.
"Polaris," she says in return. "Since you could find that out asking anyone at Purgatory."
"Yes," Elizabeth answers, without anything further. "Have a good night."
Strangers in a park.
Like a white dove among crows or a diamond among common rocks, Central Park is a welcome refuge from the otherwise nature-lacking urban jungle of New York...a city that, while still becoming, will never be clean or new again. But here, beauty is to be found amid the plethora of trees and open green space, coalescing with cobbled walkways, dirt paths, and the occasional sudden children's carousel or some such whimsical attribute. A few taverns and cafes line the edges of the park, including the famous Tavern on the Green, and the chance vendor may set up base here during the long summer months. Several rocky protrusions appear to have been purposely placed amid the meadows of Northern Central Park, in lieu of benches.
In the wake of a drop of temperature, Central Park is a bit emptier than is usual. Still, there are the truly dedicated, the joggers, the strollers, and most importantly, those who slave to an animal that demands a daily walk. Elizabeth Kane is one of the latter, and in the early hours of the dark she's claimed a bench while Lethe explores at the end of its length, rather more than is legally allowed at the moment. She's bundled well, in wool coat and thick scarf and comfortable gloves, hair left loose around her ears, and her attention wanders lazily to those who pass on the path rather than her pet.
Polaris has hands in the pockets of her motorcycle jacket, stylized starburst bright across the back of the leather. At the moment, her eyes are closed, but when another person impinges on her senses--EM field, watch, key, etc, etc, she opens them again, so as not to look weird. She blinks in surprise at Lethe, finding a cat on the end of the metal leash fittings, not a dog as she had expected.
And what a cat! Large, with oversized ears that turn like dishes at the slightest sound and golden eyes that glow interest as her head sweeps around to catch Polaris in her stare. Silver fur glints in the street lamps as the cat pads a few steps forward, enough to catch Elizabeth's attention, and the woman turns to follow her cat's gaze. Brown eyes settle on Polaris, and her lips curl into a quiet smile at recognition.
"What is that, a cougar?" Lori comes a little closer, but wary of the cat's personal space, she stops well short, looking at it with her hands still in her pockets.
Lethe enjoys her personal space, and as such gives Lori an approving sound before she turns away and pads off to explore something rustling in the leaves. Elizabeth's brows arch slightly, and her voice is warmly amused when she asks, "A cougar? I don't think they give licenses for them."
Polaris snorts lightly. "I don't they'd walk on a leash either. But then, I didn't know /any/ cats walked on leashes." With Lethe a little farther away, she closes to more comfortable conversational distance. "So what is it?"
"Lethe prefers it to the apartment," Elizabeth points out with a certain mild dryness. The cat glances back toward the pair now and then, but doesn't bother to approach. She'd rather pounce. "She is a Savannah cat. They are quite trainable, actually."
Polaris extends fingers in case the cat wants to come and sniff, but she doesn't look like she thinks its very likely. "So--African? How'd you get her?"
"Ah, no. Domestic breed. Part serval, actually. There are breeders." There's a pause as Elizabeth breathes an amused noise and then she adds, "She's not terribly fond of strangers, I'm sorry."
"Well, I'm not good with cats." Lori shrugs, and Lethe's collar tags jingle. Just from the cat's movement, of course. "Is she attack trained?" Lori grins.
Elizabeth laughs briefly, and the joke goes unanswered in the wake of the sound, although the shake of Elizabeth's head might be denial, or might be part of the laughter.
"Anyway. Makes my walk a bit more interesting. Attack cats in Central Park and all." Lori runs a hand through her hair, making the green stand out even more as she makes it catch the light.
"She does make quite an impression, doesn't she?" Elizabeth wonders before turning her attention more fully to Lori. "It's a bit cold for a casual stroll," she notes. "Am I holding you on your way somewhere?"
"Nah. I like to get out and feel wildernessy once in a while. I can't take my bike upstate every single weekend like I'd prefer." Lori shakes her head to resettle her hair.
"Wildernessy? In Central Park?" Elizabeth sounds dubious.
Polaris looks around them. "Hardly. But you know of anywhere better?"
"Hardly," Elizabeth answers with a huff of breath that sends up a white puff of mist. "Why do you live here if you're so fond of the wild?" she wonders.
"Because I like the other parts of the city better." Lori shrugs her shoulders under her broad-shouldered coat. "Girlfriend's here...got a kick-ass gig for a job..."
"What do you do?" Elizabeth wonders, tone genial and polite as she tips her head toward Lori with mild curiousity.
"Bartender. At Purgatory. Heard of it?" Lori peers into the bushes after Lethe again.
"Purgatory." There is a brief flicker of surprise, and then Elizabeth inclines her head toward the positive. Lethe has disappeared behind a tree and is crouched low, watching some undeterminable spot in the distance. "There are more than a few rumors attached to that place," she adds.
Polaris grimaces. "I'm not surprised. Which ones are you thinking of? Good, or bad?"
"I suppose that depends on one's point of view," Elizabeth responds, studying that grimace with interest.
"Would you go there?" Lori tips an amused look at Elizabeth, seeming to have already formed her own conclusions based on the other woman's appearance.
"It doesn't quite seem like my sort of establishment," Elizabeth answers, eyes lit once more with amusement.
Polaris nods. "Why am I not surprised. Wine bar, more your style?" She takes her hands out of her pockets and starts playing around with a starburst keychain.
"Oh, absolutely," Elizabeth confirms, and now a smile plays about her lips. "Really, I prefer places where I can lift my chin high enough to look down on everyone else, you know."
"Oh, well of course. No need to mix with a riff-raff." Lori grins. "But really, security's good there. I haven't had to break up a bar fight since I got hired. No one's puked on my shoes, either."
"Oh, it's not the security I'm concerned about," Elizabeth answers with a faint smile. "However, I'm doubtful about the second claim. I've met a few of your patrons on their way out the door."
"That's why the bar's between me and them." Lori laughs. "Anyway. I know I'm not going to talk you into it."
"Perhaps some weekend when I'm searching for something better than wine," Elizabeth answers, eyes lit on Lori.
Polaris spreads her hands. "Dancing's good. We have some regulars who really show off."
"Do you?" There is a brief pause as Elizabeth considers her companion, and then she wonders, "Do you ever move from behind the bar for that?"
"Eh." Lori mimes a dance move. "Occasionally. It's not really my strength."
"What is?"
"Dancing." Lori eyes the other woman, apparently trying to figure out what else she could mean.
"What is your strength?" Elizabeth clarifies patiently.
"Oh!" Lori looks chargined at the confusion. "Dunno. 'Tending?" She flexes her fingers. "Tinkering with engines?"
"What sort of engines?"
"Bikes. I rebuild 'em." Lori rocks a couple steps, to keep herself moving and warm.
"Really." Mild interest edges into Elizabeth's voice, but for all that it's not quite a question. Instead she adds, "That must take some amount of money."
"Well. Not when you buy them as the beat-up pieces of crap I do. But it's a hobby." Lori shrugs. "Purgatory pays decent."
"Does it? Better than most bartending jobs in the city?"
Polaris tilts her head at Elizabeth. "Why? Rumors again? To be honest, no. But they're not bastards about cutting my hours randomly, like the last place, so."
"I can't say I've heard any rumors about the pay," Elizabeth replies. There's a pause as she lifts her head to search out Lethe, who's tugging at the end of her leash in an effort to wander off after a pile of leaves bustling in the wind, and she snaps a command in Russian that brings the feline padding back to a safer distance. "Just speculation," she adds in clarification.
Polaris raises her eyebrows, inviting expansion on this speculation.
"It is not the safest of working environments," Elizabeth elaborates. A pause and then she adds with a slight smile, "If the rumors are true."
Polaris gives a bark of laughter of relief. "God no. It's the safest place I've ever worked. Like I said, security's serious, and they actually bother to stop stuff before it starts, rather than just wading it when it gets really bad. I've even had one guy chase off some pervert who was refusing to stop trying to get me to follow him to the back."
"You are not at all concerned, then?" Elizabeth's brows lift mildly. "About the potential?"
"For?"
"Any number of things." Brows lift higher.
"I've been in some dives in my time. There's been some pretty scary moments back in my pool-sharking days. I don't really see how this at all compares." Lori eyes her. "What are you getting at?"
"Are you telling me that the rumors are not true, then?" Elizabeth wonders. Mildly.
Polaris sighs. "What, that dangerous /mutants/ sometimes come there?" Lori presses her lips together in anger. "Yeah, I'm shaking in my boots."
"That is a danger, yes," Elizabeth responds, watching anger with quiet interest. "But hardly the only one. I'm certainly not the only person in New York to have heard rumors, after all."
"Thus. Security." Lori's anger fades a little, or at least is supressed better.
"It must be quite good."
Polaris spreads her hands in a bring it on gesture. "You're welcome to test it."
Elizabeth laughs then, a sudden outburst of noise that attracts a glance from Lethe. "I doubt my employers would approve," she replies.
"What do you do?"
"I am a District Attorney. I spend most of my time attempting to send the dangerous sort to prison."
"/Oh/." Lori looks less annoyed. "I guess I can see why you'd start to worry about that kind of thing after a while. Occupational hazard."
"What sort of thing was that?" Elizabeth wonders.
"People attacking some place because there's 'rumors' about mutants going there."
"Ah, yes. Well." Elizabeth's smile is not a particularly pleasant one. "I was not here when Sanctuary was attacked. But most of my colleagues were."
"Can't live your life afraid to show your face outside your apartment." Lori's expression is hard.
"Oh, you certainly can," Elizabeth corrects briefly. Her smile slides into something more comfortable. "But you're right to suggest that you shouldn't."
"Well, yeah. My girlfriend used to be like that. I don't want her to ever have to go back to that." Polaris ducks her chin in an emphatic nod.
"Oh? She is a mutant, then?" Elizabeth wonders.
"Yes." Lori just waits to see how Elizabeth will react to that.
"Of a particularly noticeable sort?" Elizabeth's reaction is rather difficult to gauge.
"I don't even really know who you are," Lori points out.
"You're worrying about that now?" Elizabeth wonders, amusement showing once more.
Polaris mutters something unprintable. "Well, I'm hardly going to be unrecognizable again, if this turns out badly, but I'm not handing you the way to recognize her too."
"It's rather too late for that," Elizabeth points out. "You'd be surprised what people will tell a stranger." She smiles, faintly.
Polaris gives Elizabeth a slickly professional smile, utterly empty. "Aren't you smug?"
"Occasionally," Elizabeth admits, startled into a quiet laugh. "Or so my colleagues tell me."
"I'm sure it wins you many friends." Still, the professional smile.
"I'm very popular," Elizabeth deadpans.
"Mm," Lori agrees. She stuffs her hands into her pockets, and starts to turn to go.
"Elizabeth Kane," the other woman offers on Lori's turn, polite tit for tat.
"Polaris," she says in return. "Since you could find that out asking anyone at Purgatory."
"Yes," Elizabeth answers, without anything further. "Have a good night."
Strangers in a park.