2019-11-12 - Squirrel Minions

Mason as usual, can be found busking in public spaces. The Boardwalk and the park are his usual haunts. For the moment though, he's taken a break, his guitar in its case next to him, as he sketches the scenery and its people--in pencil and colored pens. sitting on the grass in the shade of a nice tree. He hums to himself as he sketches, happily enough. It's winter, so he's dressed fairly warmly in layers--same clothes as usual, for obvious reasons.

As it happens, Mason has a squirrel hanging out on his shoulder, to which he occasionally offers a peanut.

Walking through the park on his way to somewhere is Corey. He's got his backpack strapped over his shoulders, and is wearing black cargo pants and a grey 'Do you even SIFT bro?' t-shirt, with various baking-related graphics on it. Black and white converse keep his feet warm, and he's got headphones plugged into his phone, head bobbing as he goes.

Out of nowhere this little squirrel comes up to Corey with a little folded up paper in its mouth, seemingly quite insistent he take it. At first offering it in front of him with a little chirping noise, but possibly will actually climb up his back if he tries to ignore him. Insistant squirrel. The paper has a sketch of Corey on it, sitting at the beach. And a little 'Hi!' with a cartoon of Mason waving, on the right corner. One way to get attention. Squirrel minions.

Slow blink. Squirrel? Corey eyes the rodent with evident misgiving, but takes the paper without it needing to climb him. Then he looks around for Mason - following the feel of that wave of mental - angling over towards the other guy and sinking down onto a nearby bench. "You're asking for trouble," he greets, sounding bemused rather than critical at the casual use of glimmer.

Mason stands and moves over to the bench, sitting cross-legged. "If making new friends isn't a good use of this stuff, I dunno what is." The squirrel returns and hops back up on Mason's shoulder. "Here, there's more." He hands over his sketchbook, and there are several sketches of Corey in there, and some of Blair, and Abby, and Blue, and Cali, all sort of fanciful--Blair as a Centaur, Abby riding a giant cat--but Corey's pictures are all pretty real to life. On the beach, looking tired. Or smiling without a background. "I realized I don't know much about you. I usually draw other stuff. Something to indicate personality." He shrugs. "Anyway, Hi. I don't mean to interrupt." He offers the squirrel on his shoulder another peanut. It takes it happily enough, then darts off to hide it in the tree behind them.

Unshouldering his bag and setting it on the ground by his feet, Corey offers a small smile at that. "I'm a student chef. I also do gardening. I love hiking and stuff like that," he offers as fodder for Mason's fertile imagination. "But you don't need to draw me. I'm impressed by your work, though."

Mason shrugs. "You stand out, I can't really help it. And I like drawing people. Keeps me from losing my mind out here. Idle hands, right?" He offers softly, considering. "I've been drawing since before I could walk. I've gotten better since I started, of course." He smirks. "But yeah, as a kid I dove into art and music to escape. With music it was good to help take me somewhere else, focus on the music and lose myself. With art...It was like...a way to preserve happiness. Crystallized moments of joy. I need to hang onto happy moments. And even if I weirded you out on the beach, I was still happy you were alive and well and that we got through that dream, so I had to draw it." He shrugs. "But anyway, it's hard to resist drawing people who stand out like you do. And...lots of people here. This is the brightest place I've been in. So many people are in vibrant color here."

"Just.. uh, maybe try not to make that the obvious link? Otherwise you're basically pulling together a list of those who shine, which somebody could use," Corey suggests quietly, sounding distinctly uneasy at that possibility. He digs a cigarette from his pocket along with a lighter, sparking it up and inhaling slowly, drawing on the butt and then exhaling again. "I'm glad you're alive and well too, dude."

Mason shakes his head. "Abby doesn't. But she's still very interesting in her own way. I wanna meet her cat, Chickpea." He points to the giant cat Abby's riding on. "Except I probably should stay away from her. I'm making her life worse by existing. She cares too much and my life is too fucking sad. I don't wanna burden people." He shrugs. "You either, of course, but you seem like you're already kinda burdened. Like, I may actually be able to make your life better by existing near you. Hopefully."

That latter comment draws a lazy smile to Corey's lips. "I'm not burdened," he replies quietly. "I'm loving life. Sure, the odd freaky dream or weird-as-fuck incident is horrifying, but I'm trying to be happy regardless," he explains, before digging a hand into his backpack and pulling out a ziplock bag full of cherry tomatoes. Pops one into his mouth, offers the bag over to Mason while he chews. "I figure that's the only way to win."

Mason sort of looks quizzically at the bag, but takes a tomato regardless, and looks it over. "You grew these?" He asks softly. "I guess that's true enough. You have to find your own happiness. But you don't have to find it alone. I've been around the country...travelling for the last...5 years or so. Since I ran away. And the world is full of people. Good people. I have friends all over." He pauses. "Well. I left them all. I sorta had to. I may move on from here too. I don't know. There's something about this place. My head is more clear here. Maybe I'll stop here, for a while at least." He pops the tomato into his mouth, and shrugs a little. When he finishes it, he looks over. "Anyway, you have the right attitude. Literally the only way to get through darkness is to shine a light on it."

"Yep," Corey confirms as to the origin of the tomatoes, eating another one when he takes the bag back; they're juicy, sweet and full of flavour. "Without any help from sources unknown. Just my hands, some fertiliser and plant food, and the elements." He sounds particularly satisfied at the achievement of eating something he's grown himself. "Glad you can think, here."

Mason considers. "I'm sure there's good reason for it. Don't know what. Certain places feel different." He looks over with a smile. "A chef, huh? That explains the shirt. Sounds pretty awesome. I work in soup kitchens sometimes, but other than that I don't get much chance to cook. Maybe one day I'll have an apartment or something and I can experiment with lasagna or whatever and invite friends to enjoy my terrible cooking. Or pizza. I'd probably just get pizza. This is of course assuming I one day have my shit together." A pause. "Not much call for occasionally mute musicians on the job market."

"Student chef. Still learning a lot." Still an awesome cook though, his expression says. Yeah, he's proud of his craft. "It's not for everyone though. Some people make food just to eat it, rather than enjoy it. Some people don't have the luxury of it." He eats a third tomato before offering the bag back to Mason. "Pizza is good though."

Mason takes another tomato, and sort of just holds it, looking at it as if he can see something in it that isn't there. The future maybe. He looks a little lost for a moment. Then he shakes it off, whatever it was, and looks over. "You should cook something for me, show off your skills. I'm not exactly in a position to be able to be picky but you won't find anyone more appreciative of good tasting food. For that matter, maybe you can volunteer in a kitchen if you have time. No pressure there, but. I know a lot of people who would appreciate someone with genuine skill in the kitchen."

"I cook for pretty much anyone who asks - come by 7 Oak one evening. I don't have a lot of time spare though. I work from six until twelve, then have classes from two until seven, every weekday. Weekends, I've got extra shifts," Corey explains quietly, sounding apologetic. "Maybe when things loosen up, sure, but I'm struggling to find time to do anything else right now."

Mason nods. "That sounds like too much. I'd combust." A pause. "I mean, not literally, I'd just shut down and everything would fall apart. Believe it or not I'm not good under pressure--at least not for very long. One scary dream is one thing but over time I wouldn't be able to handle it." He looks over. "I was wrong, I think. I may very well make your life worse by existing near you. That's a good thing probably. It means your life is going well." He considers. "I don't know how you do it. You're doing so much. You're a force for good in the world. I respect that. I'm really not doing anything."

There's a low, amused sound from Corey. "I'm not a force for good. I'm just not a force for bad either. I just want to cook things and make people happy. That's all." Simple life goals. "And honestly, I doubt you'll be a downer on that. After all, you want to eat, and I'm gonna cook for you, so."

Mason laughs. "If you don't think cooking things for people and spreading happiness is being a force for good, I don't think you know what 'good' is." He shrugs. "But yeah, I'll try not to bring you down regardless. And I'll help clean up. Least I can do." He runs fingers through his hair. "Honestly, you may not realize how good you are. You don't see yourself from the outside."

"A chef always appreciates a good dish washer," the student responds with a laugh. A hint of embarrassment colours his body language, shoulders hunching a bit as Mason insists he's good. He doesn't argue any more however, instead changing the subject. "So. Squirrels?"

Mason looks up at the tree behind him. "Animals are nice. Squirrels are generally pretty flighty but it's not hard to reach out to them. Can you do that?" He shrugs. "I'm really only good at the mental stuff. I grew up reading people's emotions--kinda accidently. Like, I didn't realize that reaching out and feeling people's emotions wasn't a way that normal people communicate?" He looks a little sheepish. "I guess that skews what's normal. It came and went though. Here my abilities and my memories of them are clear. But as a kid it was just confusing as I tried to rationalize away why I could sometimes understand people too well. And also just. My parents were kinda messed up people, probably didn't do me any favors feeling their emotions. But animals were nice. Mostly they were flighty, but easily convinced with food. I feel like I connected more to them than people, honestly. Animals are simple. Their emotions are simple."

Shaking his head, Corey murmurs, "No. I don't do that. For me it's.. moving things. Lifting things. That sort of thing." A quiet admission and possibly the first time he's mentioned it aloud, albeit ever-so softly. "Sometimes I feel my sister nearby, but that's always been the case. Twins, and all."

Mason considers. "I haven't been able to do anything like that. I wonder if I could learn. The electricity thing was a strange discovery...And...little illusions and invisibility. I don't talk about what I can do much--other than the emotion-sensing. But you've seen it. I can basically use force lightning." He shrugs a little. "I know not to overdo it. I try to keep it in check. Sometimes I accidently read people's emotions without realizing I'm doing it--like a reflex." He shrugs. "Maybe to feel less alone." He looks up to the sky for a moment. "The invisibility thing I discovered by accident when I was almost mugged. Ran down an alley and hid. And like -really- hid. They were right in front of me and couldn't see me. It was surreal. I think I did it as a kid too sometimes but it's hard to remember. Memories get fuzzy over time. Maybe I was just hiding."

"Memories do get fuzzy when you leave places with a thin veil. Things you did with the power, you rationalise away," Corey responds quietly. "So maybe you weren't just hiding." He shrugs one shoulder, eating another tomato and then pushing up to his feet. "I need to get going. Got a date later, and I've got study to do before then."

Mason nods, and gives a little wave. "I'll be around. Thanks for talking." He smiles, and moves back under the tree to keep sketching.