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After the peculiar evening at Lux, Rosemarie probably didn't get the 'message' from the ever-helpful (cough) Maz that Jay came back looking for her several days later. But he's a persistent thing when he thinks that something is important. She has his number, but he just never had the presence of mind to ask hers, so! He uses what few skills of investigation he has to determine that he knows she works /somewhere/ around the alley where he was mugged, and she hangs around Lux. So, what else does he do but linger around the imaginary path around the alley where he was mugged, and Lux, whenever he's on his way from place to place.
It's also where he happens to be today. a little overcast today, but still warm and springy. Dressed in his usual jeans, flip-flops, a deep earthy brown tee shirt and his denim over shirt sheathing his wings.
*
The ever-helpful Maz absolutely did not pass on any message of any kind to the librarian — other than the continued silent menace that she usually exudes. Hugs are clearly not warranted or accepted. EVER.
But what luck! It turns out that today is kind enough weather-wise to warrant walking to work rather than taking the subway. Thus, the brunette is making her way along the sidewalk. In a very spring-y shade of pearly-pink blouse and black trousers, this shows off her slim ankles as well as nude flats. If it seems like Rosemarie developed a closer eye on her personal fashion lately…it'd be no lie. Along she walks, eyes on the sidewalk before her, hands resting on the strap of her courier purse. She seems…far from the now, off in some woolly musings.
Luckier still that she happens to glance up at a person standing still rather than walking with or against the flow of pedestrian traffic along this block. A little frown and then a growing smile of recognition. "Jay!" She calls out lightly, raising a hand and wiggling fingers. She stops before him, still smiling, though it fades as she adds, "I'm sorry to have disappeared suddenly. I…guess the alcohol caught up to me sooner than I expected." It's not entirely a lie; it does, however, come with a light blush of embarrassment. There's one thing she'd never expected to admit:
Being a light-weight.
*
Sometimes luck is with you! Though who knows how many times Jay's taken this path, trying to find his fine feathered friend, but today lady luck smiles down on him when he hears his name called out, verdant eyes turning swiftly to catch the source of the call. The genial expression written into his features stretch and curve with warmth as he wrests one hand out of his pocket to lift up mildly in a motionless wave toward Rosemarie. "Miss Rosemarie," the young man drawls out with his leaning southern intonation as they come face to face. "Ain't no worry. Things took kind of ah…" The young man hesitates, his hand scrubbing at the back of his neck, ruffling slightly at his long hair as he winces mildly. "…darker turn? Prob'ly fer the best you excused yerself. Ah went back the other day t'see if Ah could find you! Where're you off to? Mind some company?"
The two meeting on the street in some indeterminate space on a joyous (if slightly overcast) spring day, somewhere between the library and Lux.
*
"Work," she admits as the reasoning for her travels, blowing a little sigh that serendipitously pushes aside a loose strand of wavy hair, snuck loose from her barrette. "You're always welcome to walk with me." Jay's given a warm mirrored smile as she takes the first step, glancing back to him. "What do you mean by darker turn? I…"
Her cinnamon-brown eyes drop and she purses her lips as she takes a moment to pick her words. "Al is a singular person. Was it about him?" Concern finds its way into her expression as she, in turn, finds those very-green eyes again.
*
Jay flashes an understanding smile over the exasperation of work, commiserating with Rosemarie as he pivots off to one side, taking up position beside her with the smooth, bodily aware grace he subconsciously possesses. Concern over Al is very much mirrored as Jay slides his hands into his pockets, gaze flickering downward briefly and a maudlin trimmed smile touching his mouth when he lifts again to nod to Rose. "Mm hmm. Singular's one way t'put it. Just a lotta that struck closer t'home than Ah expected." He flicks a small smile toward Rose and dips his head once more as they begin to walk on.
*
"I'm sorry." The apology in empathetic softness wends through the general mumuration of the crowds around them. "He looks like he had…trouble. His…face." It's clear that she feels somewhat awful mentioning it aloud, but hey — it's the truth. "And his voice. I hope…" What does she hope?
At the corner of the street, the crosswalk signal is a red hand. She waits along with everyone else, frowning off to the next light down.
"I hope that it gets easier for him. Maybe you can bring some sunshine into his life." She glances over at Jay, smiling mildly again. "I think it would be easy for you to do. You…recover from things quickly." Like enough that she's referencing the mugging not weeks back. "People see this and take strength from it, I think."
*
In the face of unpleasant, darker notions, Jay makes a valiant attempt to steel himself and buck up a little, that irrepressible flicker of flame humanity fosters in the most hopeless of times dances and shines a little brighter behind Jay's eyes as he tries to nurse it back to health. "What doesn't kill us, huh? It's all raght. We all got our own crosses to bear an' Al's path is…" Jay trails and blows out a breath as his mind wanders toward his friend, troubled for a moment before his gaze falls again on Rosemarie. "It's a long path, but it's one he picked. An' Ah've got faith he'll persevere." Drifting to a halt on the corner, standing beside Rosemarie quietly for a couple beats, he shrugs. "It's funny huh, how when y'meet someone with their own breed of trouble, how much ya realize maybe yer own ain't so bad? Still…roused some agony in m'heart, but it ain't everythin'." Jay breathes deep and tilts his head back, face toward the sky to greet it. "Can't ruin such a beautiful day, fer one, huh?" His head falls to one side, peering side long and askew at the young woman beside him, encouraging brighter hopes. "We all do our part t'bring forward th' light. You've got yer ways about you, too, Ah'd reckon."
*
Rosemarie shrugs, the purse slung across her body shifting for the rise and fall of her shoulders.
"I try to be happy, but not too happy. Some people want you to cheer them up, others want you to listen. I can do both." That mild curve of her lips lingers as she looks to the crosswalk signal and back to him. "I worked at a small grocery store when I was younger. I met a lot of people and I learned…it sounds silly, but a smile is such a simple thing and yet infectious. You smile and maybe someone smiles back. Maybe their day gets a little better." Even talking about the genial expression makes her do the very same, the whites of her teeth shyly appearing. This one reaches her eyes and softens her mien as a whole. "So I try to smile."
*
"Yer a triple threat kinda chickie like that," Jay flashes an easy smile toward Rose, not accounting for double/triple discrepancy. Nodding smoothly in agreement to the infectiousness of a simple smile on the mood of other people. "Ah hear what you're layin' down. Ah work at a grocer in Mutant Town an' especially in a place where folks ain't always feeling the best because it's sort of…well, most of 'em ain't there because they /wanna/ be, if you know what Ah'm saying—a smile an' some normal conversation can do a lot t'lift spirits."
All that aside, as Jay glances at the crosswalk sign, then back to Rose, he tips his head and asides, a hair's breadth quieter. "You've got a pretty smile anyway. It's worth sharin' with folks, without a doubt." Guileless and kind, it'd be a stretch to interpret ulterior motives in the young man's words. Straightening himself upright again and peering across the street, Jay mentions. "Ah actually had somethin' Ah wanted to ask you about, too. A pet project Ah'm workin' on with a local artist."
*
That crosswalk signal finally shifts from red hand to white body and the group begins to move. Rosemarie, listening to Jay intently, is a bit delayed to begin to move, but someone brushing past her makes her realize that she is a fish in a school and they must get across the street before those horrid taxis begin risking pedestrian life and limb to deliver their riders to their destinations.
"A local artist?" It takes her until about halfway across the wide white bars before it hits her. "Oh!" A little stumble of surprise comes with the quiet exclamation and she needs must wait until they find the safety of sidewalk again before granting Jay her total attention once more. Must not faceplant, after all. "J-Jay, are-are-are y-y-y-you asking m-me to m-m-model?!" That blush is back, full power, beneath the freckles, though it's the light in her eyes that betrays the uncertain excitement most of all.
*
New York crosswalks: where the strong are separated from the weak! Jay sticks next to his friend while they walk, his sheathed wings expand beneath his shirt in an expansive, protective aura, affording them a little more room of general avoidance as he sticks by her side to guard from others rushing past. The stumble is misread and swiftly the young man's hands fly out to try to help brace and straighten Rose, unless she goes flailing in a ricochet to the other side in avoidance. His expression gentles, brows lofting upwards with abashed hope as he reads that color over her face. "Well…sorta." He mirrors that bashful look back at her, deep green eyes dancing back and forth between hers. "But…the goal is t'capture all of you. Lahke…not nude but…" his brows lift gently, meaningful. "Ah'm gonna do it. If that…means anythin'."
*
The offer of regained balance was indeed taken and her hand rests still on his forearm, lightly clinging, not unlike a bird on a branch set to flit off at any second.
But oh — oh. He means to model, yes, but…the admittance that he himself is going to be part of the project in all of his capacity negates her wonderings about the propriety of it all. No — this is about their wings. Her teeth embed visibly in her bottom lip as she blinks, attempting to read his bashful expression.
"Y-You m-mean the f-f-feathers," she whispers, barely audible.
*
Making it across the street in one piece, like a gentleman Jay keeps his arm poised up for Rose to hold on to gently. Seems a little out of place, but he is a good ol' boy, and his momma didn't raise a fool. The anxiety of the suggestion audible in her tone, a lily white hand tries to touch down over Rose's; an attempt to comfort as he murmurs softly in a crowd. "Yeah. Ah mean. Yeah. It's somethin' we wanna do t'show the humanity of folks who're diff'rent. Try t'bring to light the /beauty/ in our differences. An…you came t'my mind." Jay's voice softens in effect. "He said he could hide faces an' stuff if you'd rather not, uh, be recognized. Ah mean…you hide real well."
*
"D-D-Do I?" A little laugh follows this, managing to mingle relief and a sadness at the same time. Sweet little wallflower…even with the wings, she manages to hide so well. It's such a double-edged sword. "I w-w-would…h-hide m-m-my face, I th-think," Rosemarie admits still in a near-whisper, tucking her chin to accent the extreme uncertainty. At her ears, the skin itches. The next glance up to Jay will show the beginnings of the molten gold about the outside of her irises.
"Wh-Who's the artist?" This is likely the most important component of all for the one who trusts so few. Her hand lingers on his forearm, making it all too easy for his own to rest gently atop it.
*
Arching red brows paired with a small smile betrays light amusement at Rose's revelation that she does hide well. His hand pats lightly on hers if able. "Ah'm still jealous a little of that," confiding softly as an aside. Friendly confidence. The fact that she's even /considering it/ makes him perk up some, staring a little closer at the telling change of her irises. "Ah'm sorry. Ah'm makin' ya anxious ain't Ah? Yer eyes are goin' all…sunset an' amber." Describing the change with a musician's tongue. "You maght know him, actually. He seems t'know a lot of folks. He's an alien fellah by the name of Kai. But he looks normal so y'can't much tell."
*
"Oh!" Her entire stance literally perks up. "Kai! I kn-know him! He…w-w-we g-got into t-trouble one t-time and h-he helped m-m-me. Oh, he's v-very n-n-nice," she machine-guns out, attempting to grin and somewhat succeeding. "H-he's the artist."
Silence captures her and she blinks a few times, weighing options in her mind. Little clenches of her grip about Jay's forearm betray flickering moments of insecurity that ebb and flow and eventually, she seems to come to a conclusion. Those doubloon-warmed eyes meet his again.
"A-A-As l-long as m-m-m-my f-f-f-face is hidden," she murmurs, a thread of steel found even within the stutters. The passersby flow around them on the corner, some of them throwing annoyed looks for the theoretical road-block the two create standing where they are, not quite close enough to the nearest shop windows to be out of the way.
*
Jay's smile warms when Rose recognizes the name and reacts favorably to it, nodding until bits of loose red hair fall into his eyes. "Yeah. He's a cool cat. Ah seem t'run into him ev'rywhere, but it's always a good tahm. We were hangin' out in the park the other day, talkin' about how folks need t' embrace folks fer their differences. Band t'gether and realize we ain't all so different, from /worlds/ apart, Rose." Jay murmurs with fervor, excitement and awe in his voice, but branching through his whole body until whispers of feathers rubbing against each other are heard. His wings rubbing together. "Worlds apart, an' we just wanna…live. All the people in mutant town jus' wanna live. Same as anyone else. But, Ah ain't a fighter sort, and Ah ain't so good with words all the time. But /art/ an' /music/; they can change hearts." Peering passions rouse through the young musician, such an idealist. Good Guy Jay is a /good guy/. "Ah know it's terrifyin' t'think about. Ah'm not so keen on wavin' mah freak flag all over, but…Ah wanna be brave. Ah wanna /help/ folks like us. Even if it's jus' little stuff. Little stuff matters."
*
Rosemarie nods, agreeing with him silently. Noting a particularly pointed stare from another couple passing by — and a questioning second glance to Jay's denim jacket for the minute movements beneath it — she tightens her grip on his forearm before sliding her hand down to attempt to take his.
"W-W-W-We're in the way," she mumbles, leading them not too far down the street into the slanted shade of a shop's awning. It takes them out of the main flow of foot traffic and she can breathe easier for it. She drops his hand if it were taken and meets his eyes again. "The l-l-little st-stuff d-does matter, y-y-yes, but we-we have to b-be safe too." Her brows quirk up, imploring even as her voice takes on a wistful note. "I w-w-wish that I c-could n-n-n-not w-worry about m-my wings just sprouting out of-of-of th-the blue. I d-d-don't know if p-p-people will ever understand," she whispers, her eyes bleeding more golden still. "But…"
She swallows and nods sharply. "A-Art c-c-can t-touch people. Sh-Show them things s-safely." Something quivers, a small sprout of hope in her heart, and it shows for the slight shine at her lash-line. "I h-hope g-good things w-w-will come of it."
*
Oblivious to standing in the way, Jay blinks, his fingers twitching as his hand is taken and tugged gently in the direction of that awning. Blinking owlishly when his attention is pulled up from that impassioned place, he apologizes softly when they move, blissfully either ignoring the second looks or oblivious to them. His hand releases when Rose's does, gentle as they hover beneath the awning.
"Ah wish Ah didn't have t'worry about lots of things too, Rose. Ah wish…Ah didn't have t'worry about the safety of my family back home. Ah wish Ah could /go/ back home at all. But…someone tried t'kill them all, because of me. Because some of us turned mutant. We all got hopes, an' most of 'em are just to live life good an' well." He sighs gently, a pained, empathetic look painted across his fair features. "Ah'm…not sure if I'm gonna hide m'face, but that's mah choice. An' you make yer best choice fer you."
He inhales a breath and holds it a moment, lifting his hands up, reaching forward, fingers uncurling like very pale, soft flower petals. Reaching across the small expanse as if Jay indends to cup Rose's face in his hands, but they stop short, held on a tight leash of polite society and manners. Still, Jay whispers, ardently, "Ah know y' probably don't want to hear it, but yer beautiful the way y'are, Rose. Nails 'n' feathers 'n' all. All we can do is try an' hope. But it's somethin'. And Ah'd never, ever put you or anyone in a position ya didn't wanna be in.". sensing all that discomfort, Jay makes tiny promises aimed to try to soothe. "Ah'll even come with ya t'sit fer him if you want."
*
Another little quiver goes through Rosemarie and that shimmer at the corner of her eyes brightens. Her gaze flicks from his aborted gesture to his face, so very knowing of what was intended.
"Oh, y-y-you…you d-d-don't…" Her own hands are kept white-knuckle tight about the strap of her purse. "I kn-know y-y-you d-d-don't m-mean to m-m-make me uncomfortable, I d-do," Rosemarie impresses with quiet intensity upon him. An inhale and time seems to slow even as she holds her breath against a tumble of words. A stutter is such an impediment when the brain runs at quicksilver speed. The Otherness slooooowly stretches within her blood, sensing a nearness to freedom.
She swallows. "C-Come with m-me."
*
Jay tries, bless his little heart. He tries to bolster her, but Rose's mild nature has her speaking like a scatter shot automatic rifle as she tries to pair words together; the gold becoming more securely latched in her gaze rather than turning back to her more human shade. The request to come with her isn't one he can deny however. Glancing this way and that down the busy stretch of sidewalk, Jay nods and looks for a point to merge back into foot traffic. A gentle gesture outward, wordless, for her to lead the way. "Of course."
*
Jay, clearly misunderstanding the comment and assuming she meant somewhere right then, rather than his offer. Largely due to his Mundane's brain melting, but also, well, it's Jay.
*
Rosemarie draws back a minute amount, the quintessential tell of confusion accompanied by a little frown. A moment passes and then she understands what was misconstrued. Biting her lip doesn't keep the faint giggle from escaping and she scratches behind one ear as she murmurs,
"OH. I m-m-meant t-to the art-t-t sitting. Th-The a-a-rt th-thing. C-C-Come w-with m-me to that. Unless y-y-you d-don't w-want to, which is ok-k-kay t-too," she amends, wincing in the lines of her shoulders for the need to address this option.
*
"Oh!" Jay's brows arch upward in surprise and realization. His hair seemingly bleeding into his wan appearance, bringing bright red heat into his cheeks and stretching its fingers all the way down his neck. A bright smile appears, embarrassed down to his toes. "No! No-no-no!" Feathers shift and whisper behind his legs, wings puffing up slightly and making his back seem more expansive than normal while Jay stammers his quick backpedal. "Ah'm sorry. Yeah, of course Ah'll go with you. Ah'd really lahke t'be there." Still rosey in his cheeks, there's a nervous twitter-whisper of chuckles to punctuate his peculiar sentence, accent flairing up hard. Small gestures with his hands color his next run on series of attempted sentences. "B'sides, it's funny t'explain but, Ah sorta lahke seein' ya with yer feathers out. Ah mean, Ah like seein' ya anyway, but it's nice. Ah mean. They're pretty an'…Ah'm not sayin' yer not pretty without them, but there's somethin' nice about 'em."
*
A tilt to her head, little frown of focus — goodness, that accent came on strong — and Rosemarie thinks she's sussed out what he's trying to communicate. Her eyes, fully golden now, are warm in relief. Oh whew, she'll have a support system there and someone to remind her that it's all going to pan out nicely when, inevitably, she gets cold feet in the studio.
"Th-Th-Thank you, Jay." The next scratch at the wriggling itch proves to locate the very tufted tips of the crest of feathers behind that ear.
He'll be able to see her close her eyes, frown to herself, and slowly inhale..and exhale. The barely-visible plumage wiggles once on both sides — Hello, fellow feathery one! and then vanishes away beneath her skin again.
"C-Careful. I th-think m-my f-f-feathers c-can h-hear the c-c-compliments." Was that a rallying attempt at humor? Rosemarie look to him again, a vaguely apologetic smile about the corners of her lips. "I…understand w-what y-you m-m-mean, I th-think," she continues. Her teeth momentarily dimple her bottom lip as she clearly eyes the wings hidden beneath his denim jacket, the color known to be so very red. "Y-Y-Yours are n-n-nice t-t-too."
*
Catching a very slim glimpse of feathered tufts, Jay's face remains the color of a cherry tomato, but he smiles, softly. An endeared little expression. He can't help it! A person with feathers is just too rare a thing to /not/ be happy about. That smile rouses a little warmer at the joke, making his eyes curve into little crescent like shapes. "Sorry. Ah'll be sure t'not tell ya how nice you look," answering back with light-hearted humor. The long primaries and secondaries which hover around the backs of Jay's legs shiver slightly and slick back, concealing themselves once more behind his normal limbs, like a couple of tails on a fancy tux jacket. "Thanks. They're, well, they're sorta a pain, too. Ah got glitter in 'em a couple weeks ago, an' every time Ah shake 'em out, the stuff /still/ goes everywhere." Of course it wouldn't be so bad if he wouldn't keep them crammed up under his shirt all day, buuuuuut.
With a smooth pivot out, Jay gestures gently. "Can Ah walk ya back t'wherever you were goin'? We don't got a date yet fer when Kai wants t'do this, but Ah'll talk to him soon about it. An' next time I run into you, we can arrange it." Not outright asking for her number, Jay is content to let her have her privacy. That would be /forward/.
*
A giggle escapes her along with a pleased blush, her golden eyes momentarily averting to one side in shy acceptance of the fencing of kind banter. Glitter. In feathers. Everywhere. Later generations will term it 'craft herpes' for a very, very good reason.
"I'm h-h-headed to w-work right now at-t the l-l-library. It's n-not t-t-too f-far." She's the one to take the first step, looking over at him with that repressed smile still haunting her lips. "I w-w-work until c-close every d-d-d-day this w-week. You c-could st-top by and l-l-let me know?" Perhaps this is the happy medium between privacy and the need for clear communicative planning.
*
"You work at the library?" Jay asks quietly, following smoothly alongside the young woman. Hands sliding back into his pockets, elbows hanging loose at his sides while they stroll. "That sounds perfect. Ah'll come by some time. Ah've been meanin' to check out a few places around town anyway. Couple museums maybe. Library. Ah ain't much of a reader all th' time, but Ah like myth stories. Kinda gotta do a little homework what with apparently a whole buncha them bein' real." Agreeable, Jay shoves on to another topic of more comfortable conversation, away from the anxiety of his own pet art project.
*
"Y-You would l-like our myth section, I th-think. I'm in ch-charge of the S-Sciences section," she explains as she adjusts her purse strap on her shoulder. "I work a-at the Informations D-Desk there. I'm easy to spot." A little self-recrimination smile and a laugh follows. "I s-suppose that's the p-point though."
When she glances to Jay again, her eyes are back to normal, that warm, sweet cinnamon-brown. Doe eyes, as an old friend used to call them. "Stop by and ask for me by name." Oh look, stutter all gone!
*
Oh look! Comforted when Jay glances over and is met by that warm, dark gaze rather than the bright, golden color. Her anxiety down. Stutter down. The young man smiles back to Rose, whispering a soft sound of amusement over the information desk. He bobs a nod of agreement. "Ah'll do that. Sounds perfect, Miss Rosemarie." Optimistic and happy to make that connection at long last, he's feeling good. Cloud nine, good. The odd glance occasionally shot in his direction is ignored, the same as he is for the most part as the two walk down the street on the way toward the library.
*