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It is a dark sort of evening, the sort where a lot of people have gone in for dinner, or on to their evening plans, although there's that quiet, almost forboding sense that there's a storm on the horizon. It is possible that some have retreated in preparation for the rain, if it ever comes. Quinn is sitting on one of the benches in the subway station beneath Mutant Town, a book open in her lap and a half eaten apple in her hand.
There was always the feeling of something wrong before the storm. The subway was not entirely a safe area set aside from the surface. The lights flicker a little oddly in the corners, which was coincidence certainly, but didn't help with the general unease that could settle in the subway.
Caliban loved it. The world felt more alive this way.
There was a lone woman on a bench waiting and cautiously Caliban observed looking, decidedly like one of the vagrants that frequented the subway areas of the five boroughs. But he wasn't looking at her but the book, curiously. He was a gaunt figure, and overt in his deformities perhaps more than curious what brought such an average looking person this way.
The book appears to be The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, by le Carre. Although the book is a recent publication the dog-eared quality of the pages speaks to it either being a second hand book, or a particular favorite of hers. After a moment she slips a finger beneath the page, folding the edge down before she glances up, perhaps sensing some interest in what she's doing.
Caliban tilted his head curiously at the book and asked, his voice quiet and having both a rasp and accent from abroad; something Germanic or Slavic maybe? It was curious and not impolite, "Why is your spy in the cold? Interesting selection for a young woman, certainly." More to an observation than expectation of a standard. Too long ash white fingers curled together in front of him curious.
"It's about this spy that starts being a double-agent over in Germany." Quinn replies, her own voice hinting at a bit of an accent as well, although hers is decidedly Asian in flavor. She picks the book up from her lap, holding it out towards him, "I've read it a few times if you'd like to read it."
Caliban halted in motion, careful, and though unease followed in the area he was not deaf to it's suggestion of caution. His eyebrow ridge bent and his scarred features seemed to hold both interest and surprise. He paused but his fingers reached out taking the volume from her like some cherished thing. Pale violet eyes looked to the book looking it over, and then back to her. "I saw it once. It would be interesting to see what it says." He considered this looking up. "You are… very kind. Dekuji." It wasn't English but it was a thank you. "I could return the favour. We like to read." He didn't say who 'we' were precicely.
"Do you?" Quinn wonders, watching him with curiosity, but there doesn't appear to be any judgment from her on his appearance, or his strange word. "I like to read myself, as long as it's exciting….The story, I mean. I like adventure stories, or spy novels."
Caliban turned the volume over and ran his fingers over the worn edges carefully. "There is a volume, The Good Soldier Svejk, it is set in a time similar. There is…" He paused and looked to see if the young woman even wanted to hear and paused. Quietly he offered, "There was no ability to speak out against the government, and one soldier figures out how to… while following all their rules. IN this time writing satire was completely unheard of. The author was almost killed for writing it. If you are interested I would trade it to you. It is important."
"I've never heard of that…but I'd be interested in reading it." Quinn replies, seeming to have no problem at all with waiting for him to finish his train of thought. She glances down at the book she offered, "What sort of trade? You mean, when I get finished, just return it kind of trade?"
Caliban seemed to take great care of the lent volume. For a deformed, pale, wretch he seemed to handle it with great care. Life under the streets and manners were not mutually exclusive. Looking back up to the woman he said with a rasped interest, perhaps surprise, "I would love to return it and hear someone's thoughts on it. Books are a lovely thing, you know. They can take you anywhere when you cannot leave. I think I rather appreciate that of them." He looked around at the subway and curiously back to her, "What brings you down here with the 'lowly and the wanting'?"
"The lowly and the wanting?" Quinn glances around, sounding as though she were a bit surprised by the fact there was any lowly and wanting present. "I was just waiting for the train." She replies, glancing back towards him, "I'd been wandering the city…which I realize might be foolish."
Caliban widened a scarred, amused grin. His quiet voice warmed into a chuckle, "An…euphemism. Some have opinions on this stop. But some of those people have opinions on," He searched for the word and offered to her, "those that wander the city. But what better way than to learn anything about it other than to go." He ran his palm over the cover and paused. "Do you know when you might you be back this way?"
"I'm my own person…I can be here whenever I choose." Quinn replies, finishing her apple finally, getting to her feet to toss the core into a trashcan. A hand raises up to cover her mouth before she finishes, "When should I come back to get the book?"
Caliban held a faint smile and looked the book over and said cont mind yourself. There have been… things as of late above. Things have started to grow, mmm, tense." There were lights on the subway train as it pulled in, and Caliban turned his head to face away as a subconscious reflex. It was certain though, racial tensions have started to be on the rise lately in the 5 boroughs.
"Yes, tense." Quinn agrees with a nod, her hands sliding into her pocket as she watches him, glancing towards the lights of the subway train for a moment, "When will I come to get the book?"
Caliban considered this and offered, "The 8:15 pm train comes through and I make a habit of meeting it. I can he here tomorrow to give it to you?" He tone was tentive but hopeful. One might suspect someone that looked like a beggar. "You are very kind. It is appreciated." His accent bit tended to soften out all of the vowels on his words. he did observe though, "You are not from New York then?" Hey at least he didn't leap to the assumption.
"Not originally, no. Japan. My father was from here, though." Quinn replies, offering a smile before she nods, "8:15." She assures him, giving him a nod before she takes a step towards the on coming train. "I look forward to it."
Caliban nodded slowly listening. "I moved here once too. You will find a way to make it yours I'm sure. The city lends itself this way it seems." As the train pulled to a stop he pulled his hood down a bit leaving the grin from under the edge of the hood. "8:15 then. You will not be met empty handed." This seemed, while generally unsettling at best, to leave teh albino man in a rather good mood. The doors opened and while not many poured out the strange man turned and walked with them before disappearing into the light crowd of the tunnels and vanishing.