Not exactly a walk in the park

May 05, 2005 21:04

I don't know what I was thinking, before, during, or after. I honestly, truly don't.

It seemed simple enough, and I've done it a hundred times: save a little time and enjoy a little communing with nature by cutting through Central Park to get to Minnie and George's place on the Upper West Side. Tonight, however, there was this man. I met him on the path, we did the nod-and-smile-and-polite-chat dance, and then he offered to escort me the rest of the way! Can you imagine?

Well, my skin was crawling, but I didn't think he was dangerous. I said yes. We walked, but it was simply too weird for me. I kept thinking he was watching me, or someone was, and I kept wanting to look behind me to make sure he wasn't getting any closer. I finally called an end to it not far from CPW, and he went back into the park.

I was jumpy for some time afterwards. Min and George commented on it. I turned the encounter into an amusing anecdote, but it's still bothering me. What was that strange man thinking? What was I thinking?


5/5/2005
Logfile from Leah.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Central Park-North
Like a white dove among crows or diamond among common rocks, Central Park is a welcome refuge from the otherwise nature-lacking urban jungle of New York...a city that, while still becoming, will never be clean or new again. But here, beauty is to be found amid the plethora of trees and open green space, coalescing with cobbled walkways, dirt paths, and the occasional manner of a children's carousel or some such whimsical attribute. Few taverns and cafes line the edges of the park, as well as the famous Tavern on the Green, and the occasional vendor may set up base here during the long summer months. Several rocky protrusions appear to have been purposely placed amid the meadows of Northern Central Park, in lieu of benches there.
--

A mild evening unfurls long shadows across the park's meadows, weaving through them a soft weft of wind. The breeze tousles tree branches, which add their own shadow-play to the tapestry: overlapping dapples fading into the night to come, with a few lamps and streetlights already lighting along the paths. Leah's walking along one of them, alert to her surroundings, but obviously in no hurry. There's a postprandial contentment to her stride and the set of her shoulders, and she ambles east to west, adding her shadow to the layers already there.

--
Leah
Short, coarse, and alive with coppery glints, plush bronze hair softens this thirtyish woman's stubbornly plain appearance. The layered sweep caps broad peasant features that sharpen at nose and chin; fair skin fans faint lines from the corners of her thin mouth and of eyes the pale brown of drifted winter leaves. Middling tall and robustly built, she embodies sturdiness with studied movements and considered alto words dulled by a voluptuous Brooklyn accent.
A creamy silk shirt buttons demurely beneath her thigh-length summer-weight woolen jacket's chocolate pinstripes. The suit's glossy black belt supports pinstriped slacks over boots of matching ebon leather and emphatic heel. A thin gold necklace traces the wide inner scoop of her shirt's decolletage, and tiny gold balls stud her earlobes.
--

A place of peace and contentment. Unless, of course, one were to travel through it at night time when less amiable elements seemed to tie and bind themselves to this place. Much like the rest of the city, there's a sense of pseudo-safety. Daniel's stride is strong, not ambling, and it carries him down one particular pathway with only the sound of gravel crunching and scraping under-foot. The park is fairly quiet, with only a few patrons moving down its walkways, none near to him. At this realization, Daniel's tensed shoulders and stride relax slightly. Up ahead he notices Leah, her unhurried pace likely assuring that they would cross paths soon enough.

Leah stops just past a bridge over the walkway and takes a moment -- why not? -- to look back, admire the view, inspect the bridge's brickwork, or just take a deep, slow breath amid this nice moment in Central Park. When she turns back around and returns to her ambling progress, she isn't far from Daniel at all, though her gaze (after a quick, automatic scan) drifts past him, up along the path beyond.

As the distance closes between them, Leah would begin to feel it. That nervous itch in the back of her mind, the triggering of her instincts that something is wrong and that she may have to defend her position or flee. The touch is a subtle one, though noticable none the less. Daniel draws a hands to his lips as he momentarily pauses, eyes flinching closed as a sneeze hits him hard, followed by yet another. He clears his throat afterwards, shaking his head softly as he continues walking. As Leah looks back briefly, she might or might not catch his gaze directly upon her. As the distance continues to close, he slows his pace to somewhat match hers. Was he watching her? Following her? Towards what purpose?

As if a woman walking alone in Central Park at night wouldn't have those thoughts anyway, but . . . Leah's shoulders hunch, and she shakes her head, too, quickly and sharply. She flicks a look off Daniel again -- closer, closer -- and manages that polite smile of 'hello, just passing, gonna keep walking' between strangers.

--
Daniel
This man's unkempt hair is a shade darker then medium brown, but not quite black. The short hair-cut is not professionally done, and such shows by its slightly choppy nature. Long bangs habitually fall across his slightly large forehead, half covering his brown eyes. His nose is not quite straight and not quite pointed but more boxed and just a tad crooked as though it'd been broken once before in the past. A square jawline rests below pale lips, complete with a cleft within it and dimples within either cheek that grace the sides of his lips. Overall his physique isn't what one would term beefed up, rather he seems to lack any sort of athletic build. Of average height and size, the only notable differences would be the sallow, somewhat sickly hue of his skin, though unlike someone who's caught some crippling sickness, his skin doesn't have a greasy sheen to it.
Loose layers are worn - an old flanel shirt that remains unbuttoned,with a white-thermal shirt worn beneath. Dark jeans hug his waist, belted with an old, frayed leather belt. The fit, like his shirt, is loose. Not so loose as to be termed overly sloppy, yet not uncomfortably tight either. Black shoes adorn his feet, overshadowed by the fall of pant cuffs that fall atop them.
--

The hunched shoulders and sharp shake of her head is noticed of course. Daniel hesitates briefly, his pace slowing as he continues his silent study. Shaking his own head towards whatever thoughts he might have, he resumes his steady walk down the pathway. The polite smile earns a disarming, if brief, grin from the man. "Probably not the safest to be walking through the park at this hour." Now that the distance is finally closed, his general appearance might be observed. His skin being a slightly sickly hue, heavy shadows lurking under his eyes, and the faded jeans and stretched shirt he wears shows that he's not the most handsome man about, but he looks more flighty then dangerous. Still, the evening air remains heavy with tension.

Leah keeps her distance, oh, yes, she does; but the smile remains, if somewhat fixed now. "Yeah, you never know, I guess. I'm not going much further, though." A pause. A long pause. Her hands slide slowly into her trouser pockets. "Thanks," she says at last, lamely.

Daniel allows her that distance as he comes to a stop, his hands still pushed deeply into his jean pockets, something which is easily explained by the light chill in the air. He nods towards her response, glancing about their general area with a forced sense of casualness that comes off as obvious. He couldn't make himself fully relax in someone's presence if his life depended upon it. "If you don't mind the company, I can go with you." There's a slight pause in his voice before his next words are hurriedly offered. "Just to make sure nothing happens."

Leah's response is flat astonishment. Her hackles might be up, for any number of reasons; certainly her voice skirls a little higher than is its usual mellow alto wont. "I . . . what? An escort? By a stranger? I'm sorry, but that's -- God, are you serious?" Her heel hits a pebble as she edges back that foot, and she has to catch her balance, hold it tight, as she sucks in a breath and stares at the man.

Daniel shakes his head softly towards her reaction, drawing his hand quickly out of his pocket in a slightly waved gesture that's intended to calm her though likely serves the opposite effect. "Well, yes, I was." Until her reaction of course. The true reasons for his ..kindness.. wouldn't become obvious, though as she edges back he makes no moves to follow her. His gaze does briefly looks towards the ground between them, seeming momentarily more interested in that then her. Drawing his brown eyes back up to her, he smirks. "You're the one that chose to walk through the park at night. Didn't figure you'd be so jumpy." His logic is infallible.. or not.

Taut movement and sudden lumps under her trousers' cloth bespeak the fists she's made in her pockets. She eyes him: wary, edgy, chin thrust in a warning tilt. "Yeah," she replies sarcastically, "can't imagine why that'd be. Jesus." That, softer, less an invocation than a simple, disgusted mutter. "Fine. Whatever. I'm meeting friends on the Upper West Side -- not /that/ long a walk, or are you new in town?"

A small smile briefly touches his lips towards her verbal, and physical response. Daniel shakes his head at the end of all that she has to say. "Not new, no. Though if you feel the need to assert yourself, you're free to lead the way." In another life time he might have been a decent guy, given he doesn't completely lack a sense of humour. He pushes his hand back into his pocket and waits for her to lead, or whatever her chosen action might be. "If you promise not to pepperspray me," he says, assuming however correctly or incorrectly that it was more then her fists lumped in her pockets, "I'll tell you my name." He moves a few steps closer to her, a look of concentration briefly filling his expression. Rather then the comfort that should presumably come from his 'protection', his proximity would only increase the tension in the air. When had it become so dark? Sure, the sun set, though the lights along the path seem somehow dimmer then normal.

Leah seems quite content to keep the distance between them -- the physical distance, anyway, for that tension knows no bounds. After another moment's hard stare at him, she nods curtly and turns back up along the westward path. "...If you want," she tosses off. A jitter in her voice, though her step is firm enough. She even tries, as if to salvage some human decency from the situation, humor: "Though if you want to be the dark, mysterious stranger in the night, feel free, yourself."
Then, almost evenly: "I'm Leah."

Matching the pace she sets, though still keeping that margin of distance between them, Daniel responds. "I never did 'dark and mysterious' well." He grins briefly towards her, though even as he looks back to her, his gaze is studying and thoughtful. Other mutants practiced their powers by levitating things and reading thoughts. Daniel.. he was conducting a study in how to control and reign in his own abilities. With no real success if that jitter in her voice was an indication. Though how much of it was simply because this odd man suddenly approached her in the park and asked to walk with her? "Daniel."

"Nice to meet you," Leah reels off automatically. She glances back, and then back again at him. In case he's closer? He might be. Lord, he just might be. Her shoulders seem to be in permanent hunch. "You're mysterious enough," she allows. "You often escort people through the park, or is that just your night job?"

"Could have fooled me." Daniel responds. He frowns slightly as she looks back to him. Her overall demeanor wasn't encouraging. "No, not my job, though likely a bit more glamorous. Of course, if you want to pay me for it, I won't complain." He's joking, honest.

Leah's stride hitches as if she would stop, but she doesn't. "You lookin' for a handout?" she accuses, her voice going shrill again. "Typical. Look, this is cute and all, but if you're doggin' me just to cadge a few bucks -- or mug me -- well..." She loses steam, somewhere amid the outrage and paranoia, and just glares over her shoulder.

Daniel's overall casual expression turns darker towards her words, a soft scowl curling his lips. "Not looking for some hand out, and if I wanted to mug you, I would have done so back when we past that bridge." The scowl fades however as he draws both hands from his pockets, this time to raise his wrist and push the small light-button on his wrist-watch. His nose wrinkles slightly before his hands drop back to his side. He looks up, judging how much farther till the edge of the park.

Leah mutters, "Fine," and yes, here comes Central Park West, right on cue. Glowing streetlights, whooshing traffic, strolling pedestrians -- ah, New York. The woman's head lifts. "This is good enough," she says on a stop and slow turn toward Daniel. She seems to fight some internal battle, then takes a deep breath. "Look. Sorry I'm rude and all. It's just . . . weird. A surprise? I don't know. But thanks. I guess. Take . . . care."

Daniel comes to a stop as well, though its well before they near the traffic of the streets and sidewalks. He looks beyond Leah, regarding those that stroll casually by without taking notice of anything. Leah's words draw his attention back to focus however and that grin returns, though fainter. "Can't claim I did it selflessly but you're welcome." Was it just the anonomous freedom of the streets that made her more comfortable? Daniel is now seperated by more then what he'd gauged to be his 'limits' and so the intensity in the air would likely be greatly deminished. "Later, then." He states, raising a hand to wave as he turns and begins to move back into the park proper.

Leah stares after him, starts to say something -- make some move, some gesture -- but . . . no. A headshake turns her away, and she reenters the well-lit world of the living, leaving the dark and the mystery behind.

[Log ends.]

log, daniel

Previous post Next post
Up