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The doors to the Endless Collective are thrown open. Some kind of abysmally loud shrieking emanates from the cavernous interior. Not that the gentleman loitering on the tiny front balcony is worried. Neither are the two alert folks carrying in lumber from an overloaded truck. All is well as far as they are concerned. The torture of an ore byproduct is nothing to see or fear. It smells faintly acrid, nothing else to be worried about there either. Only reasonable after the squall reaches a fever pitch, Sadie comes sauntering out. She has to close her umbrella for the two labourers to make their delivery, and she waves at them while she heads out on the step.
Forge usually uses New York City as a waypoint, going between his normal home and Westchester for X business. But sometimse he's in New York City to get something to eat. And so that's why he's here. Walking down the street, stopping to grab a hot dog. As he walks though, he sees doors open, and hears weird sounds. Stopping to look, that's when she comes out. "Oh, good morning. What's… going on, may I ask?"
Shadows creep long in the antemeridian light, soft flush of gold stealing around the high buildings sheltering the long, narrow street. Its former industrial character is visible everywhere, few efforts to soften the hard lines or superstructures. Which makes the chalked mural down the way rare, and the bright splashes of colour on bare walls so intense. Graffiti is still art. No wonder Sadie has that umbrella to avoid burning under even the gentle May sun. She spins her umbrella around and opens it as soon as she's outside. Off go the labouring guys to fetch more lumber. Apparently someone intends to build a tool cradle or a treehouse. It's a lot of wood.
"Morning," Sadie says brightly. Her curiously dark eyes lift up to the man with the hot dog, focusing on the food for a moment. "Moving in an artist, by the looks of it. I haven't any idea of what it will become. I can't wait to find out, though."
Forge gestures to the umbrella. "You know, miss, it's pretty clear today. Practically a summer day today." he nods to the umbrella, before taking another bite of the hot dog. "Oh this isn't your, uh, construction?"
Tapping her toe to some inner tune, Sadie smiles. When isn't she smiling? The depth of her smile changes a fair bit but she is like a flower turning to the sun. "It's beautiful out, isn't it? I'm glad not to be the only person enjoying it." Hard to say if guys in coveralls are, given the temperature. She rests the umbrella against her shoulder, properly shaded. If Forge means to call out a strange choice of accessory, he may need to be a bit blunter. Or she isn't minding. "Not mine yet, no. Group project but the artist coming up with it will give the first stab. We all pitch in when they ask. Team work, except not like those projects where one person does nothing and gets credit."
Forge chuckles. If she's goign to use her umbrella on a clear day, it must be some weirdo art thing, so he's not going to question it any more. "So this is a gallery where you put your works then?"
Or the fact her incredibly fair skin is likely to be a roving target for turning lobster red, even when it's cloudy. Sunscreen isn't a common thing. "Build them, show them, sometimes sell them. Leave them for others to admire," Sadie says. She waves her hand at a stray cat prowling across the street. It pauses and mews in her direction, but gives the humans a wide berth. "What are you eating? That smells interesting. Is art something you do or is it something else you're exploring for down here?"
Forge doesn't think of the whole tanning thing. He's a guy from much further south than this. "So how do you bring a painted wall intoa gallery? And it's just a hot dog from a street vendor."
The twirl of the umbrella mirrors the axis of the earth. Once the lumber is unloaded, the two workers grin at Sadie and head out on their way. Their truck belches blue smoke and clearly needs help. It's not quite on its last wheel. "I leave the wall outside. I can paint the walls inside. Or I deconstruct the bricks, carry them in and build a new wall, I suppose." Her smile is fiercely amused. "Oh! The vendors are very good around here, aren't they?"
Forge shrugs. "I do my own work." Holding the hot dog in his metallic hand, he finishes it off, then dusts his hand off over the sidewalk. "Deconstructive an entire building doesn't seem practical."
"Not an entire building." Sadie shakes her head. "A wall. It's not too difficult to manage that. A few bricks down and up." Her beaming amusement is unchecked, a blaze of serenity with her surroundings. That may be rare to see, but there it is. One more twirl and she tilts her umbrella directly overhead. "Good upon you. I think I shall go find one of these hot dogs. I don't think I've ever had one."
Forge laughs. "I saw that wall you painted on. I'm pretty sure any wall that large is load bearing, and you'd have to reconstruct the entire building in place, to remove that wall and move it into a gallery, miss. I can walk you there, it's just around the corner there, behind me."
Sadie laughs, warm and bell bright. "Oh yes. That one. I've a few more under chalk and colour, not placed quite the same. I have no problem leaving it until the next rainfall." She glances left and right to be sure no traffic is coming. "Oh, you don't have to walk me if it's a problem. But I'd be happy for the company."
Forge shrugs and chuckles. "I was thinking of getting another one anyway, for the road. Right this way." He then nods in the direction to go, waiting for her to catch up. "Until the rain… very temporary."
Certainly Sadie is shorter. She has those petite heels that give no advantage. So let it be said, she can walk pretty fast. Forge gives no trouble for her keeping up. "What's around the next block, past that corner? All sorts of change in this area. I like seeing different companies and people settling in. The entire character of the city feels so very much alive. Rain or shine."
Forge hums. "Honestly, miss, I don't now. I'm not from here, and I don't work here. Just passing through traveling between Westchester and Washington."
"Westchester is still within the general area, isn't it?" Sadie's hair catches the sun, ablaze against the black sea, and the ultraviolet intensity of her eyes is capable of delivering its own burn after a fashion. "But the question was more rhetorical, really. The city is full of things to see and learn, soon as you go 'round a corner."
Forge nods "Yes and no. It's far enough north that it's a quiet suburb. Nothing like the middle of the city here." Rounding the corner, he gestures to the stand. "So you'd like a hot dog? And ah, I see." More artsy things.
"I do." The young woman heads right up to the hot dog cart, and the vendor looks absolutely pleased as punch to see her. He gives a ready wave.
"You! You're the girl who helped my dear sister carry the boxes up the stairs. I remember the eyes." He points to his own, crinkled and weathered as they are. A large smile shows. "For you, anything, you understand? Her back has never been good since her last son, so big and healthy." He looks at Forge, then Sadie. "She's too skinny. Needs to eat more."
Which translates into the works popped onto a hot dog, a bun buckling under the weight. He practically stuffs it into her hand.
Forge was going to buy her lunch, but it seems that lunch is already covered. He smiles, chuckling at the enthusiastic greeting. "Fortunately we were both in the mood to eat," he smiles.
Lunch is indeed covered, but so it goes. Pay it forward; all things eventually pay for her. Sadie looks over the hot dog and gives a little chuckle. "It looks delicious. Thank you!" And isn't that the honest truth as she looks for a way to safely take a bite.
Forge nods, watching her get her big hot dog, chuckling as he gets something basic, and starts to nibble on it. "So what projects do you have going now?"
"Oh, a few of this and that. A painting, a sculpture to personify war and another to personify peace," she replies easily. Biting into the hot dog, she savours the flavour of onions and mustard, ketchup and relish and everything in between.
Forge squints. "That's interesting. Trying to make a political statement out of it?" It's a bit of a blunt question, but he's a very practical guy.
Sadie shrugs her shoulders lightly. "I want to ask questions and have people think about matters. We see things one way, and not always others. I'm directly affected same as nearly everyone else, right?"
Forge nods. He's satisfied it's not some Communist pacifist thing. "Lost this in Korea," he says, holding up his metallic hand. "So you'll forgive me if I Take talk of war and peace a little personal."
Her mouth lifts up. "I take it deadly serious. Lives hang in the balance. Casual slaughter to drive others from a shore is an affront. Sounding the drums of war to distract from problems near at hand is only a way to divert, rather than effectively handling the issues." Sadie twirls her umbrella again, finishing the last of the hot dog in two eager bites. She polishes that off, crumpling up the ball of foil. "The moment you stop thinking about war in the cost of lives, you've detached yourself from the process. Easier then to decide on life or death. It's the way it seems. I'm not saying fighting doesn't happen. It has for a long time. It will probably continue. But you're right to say it's personal. Death on the battlefield is always personal. Even if it's gas or a missile from far away, a knife in the gut, a shot over a field from a trench twenty feet off."
Forge flexes his hand, and finishes off the second hot dog, as he considers that. Then giving a slow nod of approval. "When we go to war it should never be causal. We were their last hope." Dusting off his hands once more. "Well, I'd bet get back on the road since this is a long trip. I don't have a rocket car tos horten the trip." Yet.
"Hope is a funny thing. It's often face to face with you when you're not even looking." Sadie smiles. That smile is bright. Those eyes flicker over the metal arm, back to Forge's face. "You gave up a fair bit for war. I hope you don't mind my saying I'm glad there aren't rocket cars or so many rockets. They blow up. They'll kill a lot more people before the technology gets figured out and that's a rough way to go. But there are so many good things to make, too. I ought to see if I can figure out how to grow plants atop the collective. I bet it can be done." Her grin widens slightly, and Lady Death twiddles her slender fingers as the man's off on his journey.