Players:
Summary: Two guys meet in mutant town.
Date: January 12, 2010.
Log Title Playing in the Park
Rating: PG
NYC- Thompson Square Park
Thompson Square Park is a small park in the middle of Mutant Town. The benches might need a fresh coat of paint, the fence might be rusted in places and the pavement is raised and has cracks but it's all part of the mutant haven and fairly relaxing. Trees and grassy areas are in between the many paths, there are a few structures and benches along the path as well as a special area of the park that is marked 'the dog walk'.
Evening in Mutant Town, the one place where Jet can play with his new mutant ability and not get negative attention. And play is the right word. For weeks he's been scouring E-Bay and collectable sites for memorabilia of music stars, living and dead, and finding out the hard way that almost all the 'bargain' stuff is fake. Still, there have been a few hits. Which is why he's sitting on a bench with an acoustic guitar playing 'Gin House Blues' as a duet with a ghostly Eric Clapton. The pick Jet is using once belonged to the musician and his image is lifelike, if softly glowing in the dimming light. A small crowd is around the two and it looks like between leftovers from his brother's house and the money in his open guitar case, Jet is going to be eating more than ramen this week.
Jeremy has been sitting on the ground not to far form Jet with a small sign that says 'Hungry, Homeless, Please Help'. Even if he isn't homeless anymore he still needs to make money someway. He's been watching the musician for a bit, appreciating what he's been playing. He does know who Eric Clapton is and recognizes the artist, if not the song. He's kind of impressed but even in mutant town he's too afraid to show his powers. He's dressed in a leather jacket that was given to him, a pair of gloves and a worn pair of jeans, he looks far from fashionable.
Jet closes out the set and as his his habit, he turns to the illusionary figure to thank him. They might be physical but they are real to him. Living snapshots of a time in the artist's life with feelings and thoughts. Otherwise they wouldn't be able to jam so well. The crowd disperses and he scoops the money out of his case counting it up. Not a bad day's haul. Soon only he and Jeremy are left in his area of the park and as Jet stows away his guitar and closes the case, he wanders over to offer the young man with the sign about half his take, twenty bucks in singles and a five. He shrugs, "You helped bring them in." No introduction. The words aren't brusk or clipped, but rather quiet and slow.
Jeremy looks down and shakes his head. "No I didn't, I just sat here and watched, you don't really need to give me anything." He says, he knows Jet is being nice but he's also probably doing this cause he needs the money like Jeremy does. He doesn't stand up but he keep looking up at Jet. "Thanks though, so..that was really good, your playing." It makes him miss playing an instrument.
Jet shrugs and says, "Don't need to. Want." He smiles at Jeremy's comment and shrugs again. "It's a thing. Not a power. Just something I'm good at." Well, that and a hundred hours or so a week playing music but that would be bragging. He notes the wistful tone and asks, "You play?" He's still holding the money out as though in his quiet, almost monosyllabic way, he's not going to take 'no' for an answer.
"I didn't say it was a power." Jeremy says pushing his reddish hair back. "And thanks, it'll help." With his drug addiction more than getting food but he's quite about that. "I used to play, not guitar though. It's been years, I'd probably be horrible at it now." Jeremy says with a shrug, just one of the many things he's given up over the years. "Violin, I was pretty decent at it years ago."
Jet grins as he finds common ground and sits on a bench next to Jeremy. He neither knows or cares what Jeremy will do with the money. All that matters to him is that the stranger will have at least /some/ comfort this evening. He strokes the guitar case absently and says, "Yea. Me too. And other stuff. But guitar is best sometimes. Pure. Simple."
Jeremy shrugs and smiles. "It was never really a choice growing up, it was violin cause it was..well..cultured according to my parents. But I did like it." He was second violinist back in his High School orchestra as a Sophomore. "So how long have you been playing?"
Jet grins. "Since ten or so. Piano first. Then horns. Strings. Percussion. Whatever made noise. My mom thinks that way too. 'Cultured'." He shrugs and says, "It beats being a jock." Oh no, still no family issues there. "Why'd you quit?"
Jeremy nods and then at the question he stays quiet for a long time and looks anywhere but at Jet. It's obvious that he's not sure if he wants to say or not. Eventually he just settles with "I ran away, so I got stuck out here on the street with no violin. Food is more important than buying a instrument to lug around." He doesn't say way or anything and eventually fishes in his pocket for a beat up pack of cigarette. "Do you mind?"
Jet shrugs, grins faintly and says, "Your lungs." There is enough open air to keep it from making him wheeze. He habitually has a choice of feeding his own addictions for vintage music and buying music related items or taking up another one, like smoking. Music wins. He nods at that news from Jeremy and winces faintly, kicking himself for being an idiot. "Rough." There doesn't seem to be much else to say to that and he settles back on the bench a little in a companionable silence. One thing Jet learned early was how to keep somebody company and listen without talking. In his family, it was pretty much required.
Jeremy smiles and lights the cigarette, it just helps with keeping his addiction at bay, for a short period of time. He just shrugs. "Well you gotta survive or die on the streets, and I'm not one for that." He says taking a long inhale though other things might suggest otherwise. "So what about you, any reason you're out here busking or just a hobby?"
Jet nods at that first part and says, "I can play here. I mean with my power. Freaks people out other places." He grins suddenly and says, "The pick's new. Clapton's. Let's me do that." And then another shrug. "And money. But mostly the music. Getting to share it with those guys. And girls." His voice gets looser and more animated when he talks.
Jeremy nods and gives a half smile, which is about the biggest smile he usually gives. "Cool, I just…it's not to bad here and the police don't come around as much. So…you can bring images of people to life from things that they owned?" Jeremy says trying to figure it out as he continues to smoke. "I don't know how many girls you'll pick up here in Mutant Town."
Jet nods and says, "Yea. Like Star Trek holograms. They can even talk back, jam and stuff." He grins at that last part and shrugs, "Not lookin'." Either for girls or dating, he doesn't specify. "You, um, live down here?" Which is as subtly as he can ask if somebody is also a mutant.
"I don't know too much Star Trek, but I think I know what you're saying." Jeremy grew up in a family that didn't really encourage much of the imagination. "No. I..stay somewhere, a half way house but it doesn't bring in money so…I'm kinda homeless." He confesses as he finishes up his cigarette. "I just don't have any other way to make money."
Jet nods, watching Jeremy out of the corner of his eye. He ponders for a minute and says, "Want to try?" He nudges the guitar case with his foot. "Might come back to you." And music makes everything better. If only for a few moments at a time.
Jeremy looks a the guitar case and looks up at Jet. "I don't know how to play the guitar, I'm a violinist." He says shrugging. "Maybe one day I can hope to get enough money to pay for a used violin, I just need the money for other stuff…food and clothes." He says but things don't always add up since he stays at a half way house that probably provides food and clothes for him. "And I wouldn't be any good with these anyway." He says holding up his hands, indicating the gloves.
Jet blinks and asks, "Not just for cold hands?" His expression is a hastily suppressed one of horror as he pictures all sorts of movie-style mangling that would make a person unable to play. A fate worse than death!
"Is that your guitar or did you get it used somewhere?" Jeremy asks not answering the question slowly taking off one of his gloves. Since he saw Jet's power, he figures it's not worth hiding his. He's only open about his powers if he knows someone else doesn't have them.
Jet grins and says, "Pawn shop. Do I look rich?" He strokes the case again. "But gently used. Last guy took good care of him." He can't help but stare a little as Jeremy takes off his glove, curious beyond politeness.
Jeremy places his hand on it lightly and his eyes focus forward, moving ever so slightly, as the images rush into his head. After about five minutes he lets go and lets out a sigh, quickly processing what he saw in rapid fashion. "You bought this guitar in England and have been playing with the stars for a while Jimi Hendrix was the first one. He was right, he did take good care of it, he loved to play at the clubs, was a huge Rolling Stones fan actually." He says as he puts the glove back on. "I see the past."
Jet blinks and says, "Wow. Cool!" He gives the case another loving look and then back to Jeremy. "We kind of do the same thing." He pauses and says, "Gloves mean you just, um, do it? No control?" He looks oddly sympathetic at that. Literally. As though he knows exactly how that would feel.
Jeremy puts the glove back on and nods. "Yeah, anything I touch, skin contact, causes it. Not just my hands, but any skin. It's…hard at times cause there are things you shouldn't know and things you'll learn that will change your life. And I saw you're a huge Zeppelin fan." He says blushing slightly. "My parents didn't allow that in the house, rock music that is." His life up until he ran away was pretty much dictated for him.
Jet nods thoughtfully. "Sucks. And yea, Page is the /man/…what?" And then it hits him and he blushes deeply. Normally a little taciturn, he's rendered completely speechless for a moment. After that moment, as the blush dies down, he shrugs broadly and says in a sardonic, understated tone, "/Really/ unplugged."
Jeremy smiles, and this time it's a bit more than his usual half smile and it gives the impression that he doesn't smile a lot. "See, I always liked rock music by my parents never let me listen to it. They wanted us to be..well, normal, perfect I guess you can say. Straight A's, cultured, ya know. It seemed right until…things changed."
Jet smiles back. "I get that. My dad is the same way. With rock. Music, really. Never made straight As, though." He nods at the changed part and says, "You've known a long time? I just found out a few months ago."
"Since I was fifteen, about two years. It started happening and then one day I couldn't stop it." Jeremy says with a shrug. "Sometimes it's nice not to know things, so do you see the pasts of the people you bring up? And is it just people?"
Jet shakes his head. "No, areas too. But it's based on emotions. The stronger ones make it easier. I can kind of shuffle through. Like with an iPod. Brainpod I guess." He says, "Two years? Is it getting better at all?" His tone is worried on that, since it has implications for himself as well.
Jeremy shakes his head. "No, it kind of leveled out where skin contact with anything, well any object or person or animal. Water doesn't do it and I can eat, as long as I eat with gloves on." Thank god his lips don't trigger his power. "I never had anyone teach me anything, I just kind of deal with it the best I can. It's not always easy."
Jet ponders that a moment and says, "I've got a brother who, um, does this kind of stuff. Mutant stuff." He shrugs and says, "I could give you his number and stuff. He takes up a lot of room but he's a good guy. Might help."
Again Jeremy is quite for a while and nods. "Maybe…I'll think about it." So far he's found Jet to be fairly trust worthy though but anyone whose not afraid of their powers is someone he can talk to about his. "Life would be so much easier if I wasn't a mutant."
Jet shrugs and says, "Be easier if we were all carrots too. Sometimes you just have to play the sheet, not the jam." He rummages for Jericho's card, since he has his brother's information in his cell phone already. It is a little dented and dirty. "Here. Tell him Jet told you to call. He really is a good guy and he, um, understands this stuff." He doesn't out his brother as a mutant, though.
Jeremy takes the card and looks at it, nodding. "I guess…thanks." He's still unsure as he doesn't know the guy and would feel awkward just calling a stranger. "I'm Jeremy by the way." He says introducing himself, not recalling if he did earlier. "And this heat is just weird." He says shaking his head.
Jet shrugs and says, "I like it. Snow sucks. And my heat does too." He pauses for a moment and says, "Probably means Mole Man is microwaving the city or something." After being in the city a year, he's as jaded as the next New Yorker about super-stuff. "See it on the news next week or something."
Jeremy nods and the only reason he's in the leather jacket is to avoid skin contact. "Well it is does beat sitting out here freezing half to death. Those were never fun winters." He's survived two fo them now. "So what was it like in London? I've never been outside of the country."
Jet smiles at Jeremy again, remembering. "Wild. Fun. Alive. Punk was born there and you can /feel/ it in the stone and brick. It's angry and sexy and hoping even though hoping hurts. Nobody has any money and nobody ever sleeps. It was awesome. You just get caught up in the music scene there and spend the next six months spinning like a top and loving it." Which may be the most animated and complete sentences he's strung together since they've met. "So, um, good."
Jeremy smiles as he listens, envious of the life style. "Wow, you're lucky Jet. I've just seen the ugly underbelly of New York. I mean this city isn't bad it's just..I wish I could experience more." He reaches into his back pocket and fishes out a beat up business card, the one Andres handed him. "This is where I'm staying it you ever…I dunno…need a friend or something." Jeremy doesn't have many himself but he's finding Jet easy to talk to.
Jet smiles and nods as he takes the card. "Always need friends. Here's my number and email." He writes them on the back of an old program and hands it to Jeremy. And a pause, "And I am lucky. Maybe things will start to look up for you." He sighs and says, "And I need to roll." He rolls his eyes and adds, "String quartet. Late. Cellists are all bitches." Standing, he catches himself just in time before he goes to shake hands or clap Jeremy on the shoulder and just waves instead.
"I don't have email but thanks." Jeremy says as he hasn't used a computer in quite sometime. It just hasn't been necessary. "It was good meeting you, take care." He says standing up himself. He notices Jet stop and smiles. "As long as you don't touch my skin, I'm good." He says before waving himself and wandering off to the nearest public bathroom. He wants to get a quick fix in before going back to the half way house.
