Random coffee
I ducked into Bad Ass after dinner down in the Village with Terry to celebrate the Times story (Page A8, can you believe it? And the photos look great; I owe Steve dinner now), and ended up running into Sabby for a little while. She was having coffee with some high-school teacher from out in Brooklyn. Andrew something. Had an inquisitive bug up his butt about the MRA, so I gave him my standard spiel. Threw in Dr. Grey's name, too. What the hell.
I have found out that people I know are mutants, thanks, Andrew. It's not as peachy-keen as you might think. They don't like getting treated like objects of your starry-eyed curiosity, either, count on it. They're mutants, but they're still people.
Eager beaver wants to come up with a solution for the whole big ball of wax all by himself. Aww. Obviously doesn't have enough to do in his actual job. Pity his students.
Apartment's clean, as promised. I could do without the nagging feeling of wanting not to sleep alone. Not sex. Just . . . warmth. And not being alone.
See, this is why I don't ask for help very often. It lingers.
8/29/2005
Logfile from Leah.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bad Ass Coffee
The decor is one of tropical paradise. There are potted ferns and mini-palms in every nook and cranny, while the walls are painted a cheerful yellow and as much green or wooden decorations as possible have been added. Opposite the door is the counter where you order, a long line of giant cookie jars leading you to the register. Behind the counter are a plethora of tea leaves and coffee grounds, purchaseable brewed by the cup of packaged by the pound! You can get just about any kind of herbal tea, coffee, cinnamon bun, muffin, cookie, cake, pie, soup, chili, or sandwich here. They serve the works, all at really cheap prices. All around the open area are tall wooden tables with wooden barstools set around them, and off in each corner is a green couch and two matching armchairs. Up on a raised dias to the left is the smoking area, sealed off into it's own room with plexiglass windows and filled with similar tables and barstools. This place is the hangout of the altervative crowd -- artists, goths, punks, and the like. The people are friendly and the music is good -- enjoy!
--
Coffee time for a working girl (no, not that kind): Leah slides in through a departing tangle of NYU students and heads right for the counter to get herself some java. She's in casual clothes, but intent mood, by the avian crane and whip of her head at the signs on the wall and the low roll of her order once her turn comes up on line. That accomplished, she moves along to pay and then to scan the room for a likely seat.
Andrew nods, "I'm sure you've heard the expression 'it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there?' I suppose it can be applied to certain aspects of the city. On the other hand, it's definitely a lot more active then where I came from..." he chuckles. "The good ol' Midwest...worst thing you had to worry about there was getting run over by a horse n'buggy," he jokes. He pauses, as if thinking for a moment or two. "Oh, waitaminute, I never introduced myself. The name's Vaughan...Andy Vaughan..." He sticks a hand out in Sabitha's direction. "I'm too caught up in getting this stuff done that I completely forgot my manners." He smiles. "Guess I pick some things up from my students..." he jokes.
Sabitha half-rises from her seat to extend a hand over her laptop and take his, briefly. "Sabitha," she offers in return. "Melcross. Nice to meet you." Settling back down, she supposes, "I doubt they forget because they're /accomplishing/ things."
And there /is/ a likely seat, and Leah and her coffee sail blithely toward it. "/Thank/ you for getting up like that, Sabby," she says when she's close enough, and sips through a smile. Pale-brown eyes glance over Andrew then fix again on the other woman. "Saw you across a crowded room -- it must be fate."
Andrew gives Sabitha's hand a firm shake, before he too reseats himself. "So what exactly is it that you do, Sabitha? I've told some of my tragic tale yet haven't heard anything about you yet." He glances up and over at Leah as she approaches Sabitha, and he smiles a bit, the coffee having definitely woken him up a bit...he's in better shape than he was when he first came in. "Hi there..." he offers to Leah.
"Me? Oh, nothing so--" Sabitha breaks off, halfway through, to glance in startlement at Leah. Her lips twitch into a fuller smile, and she closes her laptop as she sits again. "Destiny pulls us together, mon amie," she agrees cheerfully, and then flicks a hand toward Andy. "This is Andrew. He's hiding out from high schoolers. Teaches Creative Writing. Grab a seat, Leah? What're you doing in town?"
Leah picks out in surprise, "French? Since when are we speaking French?" She drags out a chair as ordered, obedient, and obediently returns to Andrew with a slight smile, "Hi. Nice to meet you. We're a much better crowd than teenagers, promise. No gum-smacking, no car-jacking, and our talking back is always a thing of beauty. And I was slumming around after dinner with a friend, Sabby. Celebrating my story in the paper today." Does she preen a bit over her coffee? Perhaps.
Andrew grins at Sabitha's pretty accurate description of what he's doing here. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say -hiding-..." he pauses. "Aw, hell, who am I kidding? I'm hiding." He laughs softly. "I had to get some type of caffeine before I went home, otherwise I woulda fell asleep on the drive. Been up since oh, about 3 AM. Yeah, everything you've heard about teaching is absolutely true, good or bad." He takes another sip of his coffee. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Leah. And yeah, I was already relieved to have found someone who doesn't need to be -taught- how to speak today..." he grins at Sabitha. "It's a bonus to have another."
--
Andrew
You see before you Andrew Vaughan, a relatively outspoken and definitely colorful personality. He's human, surprise surprise, having not developed any particular mutant powers...though that doesn't stop him from actively supporting their cause. He's a relatively tall man, around 6'3 and about 171 lbs. His physique is impressive, especially since his chosen profession is that of a high school teacher... English/Creative Writing, more specifically. His features are well-defined and very sharp, with dark eyebrows and a very strong-looking chin. His hair is coal black in color and somewhat unkempt...with just a very light hint of grey touching his sideburns. Andy's eyes are a light brown in color, glittering with good humor and the various amusing thoughts that constantly run through his head. At the moment, he is presently wearing a pair of jeans and a gray, button-up top, as well as a dark blue tie. Occasionally, he can be seen wearing a pair of dark sunglasses...
--
Sabitha spends a moment staring blankly at Andrew. "/Three/?" she echoes in disbelief before a sideways look goes toward Leah. "Oh yeah? The rally? Written and published and paid, huh? Congratulations!" To Andrew, she explains, "Leah's a journalist."
"Freelance, and thanks," breezes Leah on the tails of that and then owls her eyes wide at the poor man. "That's inhumane. Bring it up with the union."
Andrew chuckles at Sabitha's blank stare, and also at Leah's owl-ish stare. "Yup. Three..." he repeats with a shrug. "Oh, there's not much the union could do about it anyway, I kinda do that to myself. No one's told me I have to be up that early, I would rather just try and get my stuff organized as early as I can so I don't have to rush around later during the day. It makes things much easier, even though I tend to be Captain Cranky for the remainder of the day..." he grins. "You guys just happened to catch me on a relatively normal day. I haven't pulled any hair out just yet, but you watch...by the time next June rolls around, I will be completely -bald-...you'll be able to see your reflections on my scalp..."
Sabitha rocks back as Andrew speaks. And speaks. When he's finished, she notes, simply and dryly, "I can tell you're a teacher." Her lips quirk into a smile that states that she amuses /herself/, anyway, and she gathers her mug for a sip.
Leah grins over at her friend and then leans towards the man. "/I/ don't mind lectures, as long as it's not about my personal life. Met a professor down from Bard who did the same thing. You ever think about teaching in college?"
Andrew blinks for a moment as he seems to realize he started to ramble there for a bit. "Sorry about that, ladies, sometimes I kinda forget where I'm at..." he chuckles. "This is a coffeehouse, not a classroom...I'll try to remember that the next time I start telling you my life story..." He shakes his head at Leah's question. "Nah, never really thought about it to be honest. I've got my hands full with high school as it is." He finishes off his first coffee..."Hey, can I ask you guys a question? Don't look at me weird or anything, cause other times I've asked this to people they seemed about ready to turn and take off running down the street..." He waits to see what their responses might be.
Sabitha shoots a sideways, silent glance at Leah, with arched brows that inquire wordlessly.
"Yo," quoth Leah, smiles, and waits.
Andrew takes a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the two, his expression relatively serious... he pauses...then leans in and asks, "What would you do if you found out that someone you knew was a mutant?" He watches them both to gauge their reactions. "And what are your opinions of this whole big debate about mutants being registered and stuff like that? Personally, -I- think the whole registration thing is a bunch of crap. People are treating them like they're some type of second class citizen, when actually they are a hell of a lot more useful than a lot of regular people that I know..." he grins.
Sabitha's posture tightens just slightly. "There's probably a reason people seem ready to run down the street," she points out. "I don't know you from Adam. And you don't know me." And that's all she's saying about that, because there's coffee, and she considers that fair warning.
"And I," Leah says with gentle, cynical regret, twisted 'round a sarcastic smile, "am a conservative anti-mutant bigot. Ask anyone, including Jean Grey. Why do you ask, Andrew? Makin' conversation, or has this come up in your life in a personal way?" Reporter's shiny-eyed curiosity: look at it go.
Andrew shakes his head..."No, it hasn't, actually, but in a strange way I'm hoping that it will sometime soon. I've been reading about mutants and hearing various things on television, and I've been researching for years...ever since I first heard about the whole thing. I honestly don't understand what the big fuss is, and I'd someday like to talk with someone who has these...special abilities. Y'know, to sort of hear things from their point of view instead of getting the skewed media version, no offense..." he chuckles with a grin. "And if I caused any offense to either of you, I'm sorry, it was simply an innocent question, no harm meant..."
Sabitha's expression turns swiftly exasperated, and she begins to make her excuses as she packs her laptop away. "Sorry to run," she offers to Leah, "But Mel's been slamming me this week. New bill on the floor, and all that. I'll be sure to grab a copy.. the Times?" she questions, in regards to the article, and manages a brief smile toward Andrew. "Nice to meet you, anyway. Good luck with the high school."
"A8," is Leah's merry, smug confirmation of the paper. "I saved a copy if you can't grab one. Don't work too hard! We're still on for margaritas? --Girl-talk," she tells Andrew wisely. "No offense for not inviting you, but hey, we /have/ just met, huh? And already with the mutant questions. Bet your students love you."
Andrew knew he shouldn't have said anything, but he sometimes had a tendency to say what was on his mind, whether it was wise or not. This seemed to be one of those times. He nods to Sabitha as she hurriedly gets her things together in preparation to leave. "Yeah, nice meeting you too, Sabitha. Hope to see you around..." He returns the smile, before looking back to Leah. "Oh no, no, that's fine, I've got no problem with that. And once again I'm sorry about the mutant thing, I don't often get to ask someone about the subject..."
Sabitha lifts a hand for a quick finger waggle and a short smile at Leah. "Margaritas, defintely. Soon." A pause, and she adds, in annoyance, "Maybe not /this/ week, hell. But soon. Anyway. Catch you later!" And then she's out the door.
While Leah stays behind, comfy with her coffee and the conversation. And she assures him, "No skin off my nose, really. I'm just sayin', you might not get an answer you like out of me. I've been for the MRA from the very beginning. Never wavered on it, and now that mandatory's come up ... well, this is a good time to make some money peddling the opinions I have." Her eyes half-lid, matching smile's reflective curve. "Whenever I can find the openings, that is. Freelance sucks."
Andrew nods his head. "Oh, I see. Can I ask you another question, then? -Why- exactly do you think the MRA is such a good idea? You don't think that it would eventually cause more harm than good by stirring up those mutants who are widely considered to be dangerous threats? It'd be like poking a stick around in a hornet's nest...there has to be those out there who are hiding out, just waiting for the right time to strike back..." He takes another sip of coffee..."All of this is for conversation's sake too, by the way, if anything I say happens to insult you, it's definitely not my intent." He smiles a bit. "I just find the whole thing really interesting..."
"Why? Teaching that boring?" Leah makes it a light question, tipped at the end into another swallow. She snorts. "Hell of a place and time for a debate. I should just go make you read my stuff, since I've already said it once.... There /are/ those hiding and waiting to strike. You saw the jailbreak story, didn't you? Freakin' Magneto and his insane bunch--" Some personal bitterness slashes through alto's cloth, and she frowns into her coffee. "Gotta keep an eye on them somehow. You've heard all the arguments, I'm sure. Me, I'd rather have 'em registered and known about, especially the recidivists if we can nab 'em, than on the loose. Sure, the majority aren't going to harm a fly, but do /you/ want to risk another Liberty Island? Another attack in the park? Another jailbreak? There are ways to stop it. Let's let the government work on how to do that."
Andrew chuckles and shakes his head. "To be perfectly honest, I don't think I'd put -anything- completely in the government's hands...especially something that can be as important as this. I hope that a solution can be thought up that will be satisfying enough for both sides...and that is what I'm trying to research, to see if I can't just come up with some sort of compromise to suggest." He stands up out of his chair..."Well, I guess I gotta get home, I got another early day ahead of me tomorrow." He reaches down and picks up his briefcase. "Pleasure meeting you, hope to run into you again soon. If you wanna chat again, feel free to look me up at the high school. It's in Brooklyn...Abraham Lincoln High School, right near Coney Island." He grins, before he turns and heads for the door. "Have a good rest of the day..." he replies over his shoulder.
Brooklyn's own accent rides after him, pleasant and amused: "Later, Andrew. Good luck on that compromise." Then Leah bends her attention back to her coffee, with a headshake and a twist to her slight smile.
[Log ends.]
I have found out that people I know are mutants, thanks, Andrew. It's not as peachy-keen as you might think. They don't like getting treated like objects of your starry-eyed curiosity, either, count on it. They're mutants, but they're still people.
Eager beaver wants to come up with a solution for the whole big ball of wax all by himself. Aww. Obviously doesn't have enough to do in his actual job. Pity his students.
Apartment's clean, as promised. I could do without the nagging feeling of wanting not to sleep alone. Not sex. Just . . . warmth. And not being alone.
See, this is why I don't ask for help very often. It lingers.
8/29/2005
Logfile from Leah.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bad Ass Coffee
The decor is one of tropical paradise. There are potted ferns and mini-palms in every nook and cranny, while the walls are painted a cheerful yellow and as much green or wooden decorations as possible have been added. Opposite the door is the counter where you order, a long line of giant cookie jars leading you to the register. Behind the counter are a plethora of tea leaves and coffee grounds, purchaseable brewed by the cup of packaged by the pound! You can get just about any kind of herbal tea, coffee, cinnamon bun, muffin, cookie, cake, pie, soup, chili, or sandwich here. They serve the works, all at really cheap prices. All around the open area are tall wooden tables with wooden barstools set around them, and off in each corner is a green couch and two matching armchairs. Up on a raised dias to the left is the smoking area, sealed off into it's own room with plexiglass windows and filled with similar tables and barstools. This place is the hangout of the altervative crowd -- artists, goths, punks, and the like. The people are friendly and the music is good -- enjoy!
--
Coffee time for a working girl (no, not that kind): Leah slides in through a departing tangle of NYU students and heads right for the counter to get herself some java. She's in casual clothes, but intent mood, by the avian crane and whip of her head at the signs on the wall and the low roll of her order once her turn comes up on line. That accomplished, she moves along to pay and then to scan the room for a likely seat.
Andrew nods, "I'm sure you've heard the expression 'it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there?' I suppose it can be applied to certain aspects of the city. On the other hand, it's definitely a lot more active then where I came from..." he chuckles. "The good ol' Midwest...worst thing you had to worry about there was getting run over by a horse n'buggy," he jokes. He pauses, as if thinking for a moment or two. "Oh, waitaminute, I never introduced myself. The name's Vaughan...Andy Vaughan..." He sticks a hand out in Sabitha's direction. "I'm too caught up in getting this stuff done that I completely forgot my manners." He smiles. "Guess I pick some things up from my students..." he jokes.
Sabitha half-rises from her seat to extend a hand over her laptop and take his, briefly. "Sabitha," she offers in return. "Melcross. Nice to meet you." Settling back down, she supposes, "I doubt they forget because they're /accomplishing/ things."
And there /is/ a likely seat, and Leah and her coffee sail blithely toward it. "/Thank/ you for getting up like that, Sabby," she says when she's close enough, and sips through a smile. Pale-brown eyes glance over Andrew then fix again on the other woman. "Saw you across a crowded room -- it must be fate."
Andrew gives Sabitha's hand a firm shake, before he too reseats himself. "So what exactly is it that you do, Sabitha? I've told some of my tragic tale yet haven't heard anything about you yet." He glances up and over at Leah as she approaches Sabitha, and he smiles a bit, the coffee having definitely woken him up a bit...he's in better shape than he was when he first came in. "Hi there..." he offers to Leah.
"Me? Oh, nothing so--" Sabitha breaks off, halfway through, to glance in startlement at Leah. Her lips twitch into a fuller smile, and she closes her laptop as she sits again. "Destiny pulls us together, mon amie," she agrees cheerfully, and then flicks a hand toward Andy. "This is Andrew. He's hiding out from high schoolers. Teaches Creative Writing. Grab a seat, Leah? What're you doing in town?"
Leah picks out in surprise, "French? Since when are we speaking French?" She drags out a chair as ordered, obedient, and obediently returns to Andrew with a slight smile, "Hi. Nice to meet you. We're a much better crowd than teenagers, promise. No gum-smacking, no car-jacking, and our talking back is always a thing of beauty. And I was slumming around after dinner with a friend, Sabby. Celebrating my story in the paper today." Does she preen a bit over her coffee? Perhaps.
Andrew grins at Sabitha's pretty accurate description of what he's doing here. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say -hiding-..." he pauses. "Aw, hell, who am I kidding? I'm hiding." He laughs softly. "I had to get some type of caffeine before I went home, otherwise I woulda fell asleep on the drive. Been up since oh, about 3 AM. Yeah, everything you've heard about teaching is absolutely true, good or bad." He takes another sip of his coffee. "A pleasure to meet you as well, Leah. And yeah, I was already relieved to have found someone who doesn't need to be -taught- how to speak today..." he grins at Sabitha. "It's a bonus to have another."
--
Andrew
You see before you Andrew Vaughan, a relatively outspoken and definitely colorful personality. He's human, surprise surprise, having not developed any particular mutant powers...though that doesn't stop him from actively supporting their cause. He's a relatively tall man, around 6'3 and about 171 lbs. His physique is impressive, especially since his chosen profession is that of a high school teacher... English/Creative Writing, more specifically. His features are well-defined and very sharp, with dark eyebrows and a very strong-looking chin. His hair is coal black in color and somewhat unkempt...with just a very light hint of grey touching his sideburns. Andy's eyes are a light brown in color, glittering with good humor and the various amusing thoughts that constantly run through his head. At the moment, he is presently wearing a pair of jeans and a gray, button-up top, as well as a dark blue tie. Occasionally, he can be seen wearing a pair of dark sunglasses...
--
Sabitha spends a moment staring blankly at Andrew. "/Three/?" she echoes in disbelief before a sideways look goes toward Leah. "Oh yeah? The rally? Written and published and paid, huh? Congratulations!" To Andrew, she explains, "Leah's a journalist."
"Freelance, and thanks," breezes Leah on the tails of that and then owls her eyes wide at the poor man. "That's inhumane. Bring it up with the union."
Andrew chuckles at Sabitha's blank stare, and also at Leah's owl-ish stare. "Yup. Three..." he repeats with a shrug. "Oh, there's not much the union could do about it anyway, I kinda do that to myself. No one's told me I have to be up that early, I would rather just try and get my stuff organized as early as I can so I don't have to rush around later during the day. It makes things much easier, even though I tend to be Captain Cranky for the remainder of the day..." he grins. "You guys just happened to catch me on a relatively normal day. I haven't pulled any hair out just yet, but you watch...by the time next June rolls around, I will be completely -bald-...you'll be able to see your reflections on my scalp..."
Sabitha rocks back as Andrew speaks. And speaks. When he's finished, she notes, simply and dryly, "I can tell you're a teacher." Her lips quirk into a smile that states that she amuses /herself/, anyway, and she gathers her mug for a sip.
Leah grins over at her friend and then leans towards the man. "/I/ don't mind lectures, as long as it's not about my personal life. Met a professor down from Bard who did the same thing. You ever think about teaching in college?"
Andrew blinks for a moment as he seems to realize he started to ramble there for a bit. "Sorry about that, ladies, sometimes I kinda forget where I'm at..." he chuckles. "This is a coffeehouse, not a classroom...I'll try to remember that the next time I start telling you my life story..." He shakes his head at Leah's question. "Nah, never really thought about it to be honest. I've got my hands full with high school as it is." He finishes off his first coffee..."Hey, can I ask you guys a question? Don't look at me weird or anything, cause other times I've asked this to people they seemed about ready to turn and take off running down the street..." He waits to see what their responses might be.
Sabitha shoots a sideways, silent glance at Leah, with arched brows that inquire wordlessly.
"Yo," quoth Leah, smiles, and waits.
Andrew takes a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the two, his expression relatively serious... he pauses...then leans in and asks, "What would you do if you found out that someone you knew was a mutant?" He watches them both to gauge their reactions. "And what are your opinions of this whole big debate about mutants being registered and stuff like that? Personally, -I- think the whole registration thing is a bunch of crap. People are treating them like they're some type of second class citizen, when actually they are a hell of a lot more useful than a lot of regular people that I know..." he grins.
Sabitha's posture tightens just slightly. "There's probably a reason people seem ready to run down the street," she points out. "I don't know you from Adam. And you don't know me." And that's all she's saying about that, because there's coffee, and she considers that fair warning.
"And I," Leah says with gentle, cynical regret, twisted 'round a sarcastic smile, "am a conservative anti-mutant bigot. Ask anyone, including Jean Grey. Why do you ask, Andrew? Makin' conversation, or has this come up in your life in a personal way?" Reporter's shiny-eyed curiosity: look at it go.
Andrew shakes his head..."No, it hasn't, actually, but in a strange way I'm hoping that it will sometime soon. I've been reading about mutants and hearing various things on television, and I've been researching for years...ever since I first heard about the whole thing. I honestly don't understand what the big fuss is, and I'd someday like to talk with someone who has these...special abilities. Y'know, to sort of hear things from their point of view instead of getting the skewed media version, no offense..." he chuckles with a grin. "And if I caused any offense to either of you, I'm sorry, it was simply an innocent question, no harm meant..."
Sabitha's expression turns swiftly exasperated, and she begins to make her excuses as she packs her laptop away. "Sorry to run," she offers to Leah, "But Mel's been slamming me this week. New bill on the floor, and all that. I'll be sure to grab a copy.. the Times?" she questions, in regards to the article, and manages a brief smile toward Andrew. "Nice to meet you, anyway. Good luck with the high school."
"A8," is Leah's merry, smug confirmation of the paper. "I saved a copy if you can't grab one. Don't work too hard! We're still on for margaritas? --Girl-talk," she tells Andrew wisely. "No offense for not inviting you, but hey, we /have/ just met, huh? And already with the mutant questions. Bet your students love you."
Andrew knew he shouldn't have said anything, but he sometimes had a tendency to say what was on his mind, whether it was wise or not. This seemed to be one of those times. He nods to Sabitha as she hurriedly gets her things together in preparation to leave. "Yeah, nice meeting you too, Sabitha. Hope to see you around..." He returns the smile, before looking back to Leah. "Oh no, no, that's fine, I've got no problem with that. And once again I'm sorry about the mutant thing, I don't often get to ask someone about the subject..."
Sabitha lifts a hand for a quick finger waggle and a short smile at Leah. "Margaritas, defintely. Soon." A pause, and she adds, in annoyance, "Maybe not /this/ week, hell. But soon. Anyway. Catch you later!" And then she's out the door.
While Leah stays behind, comfy with her coffee and the conversation. And she assures him, "No skin off my nose, really. I'm just sayin', you might not get an answer you like out of me. I've been for the MRA from the very beginning. Never wavered on it, and now that mandatory's come up ... well, this is a good time to make some money peddling the opinions I have." Her eyes half-lid, matching smile's reflective curve. "Whenever I can find the openings, that is. Freelance sucks."
Andrew nods his head. "Oh, I see. Can I ask you another question, then? -Why- exactly do you think the MRA is such a good idea? You don't think that it would eventually cause more harm than good by stirring up those mutants who are widely considered to be dangerous threats? It'd be like poking a stick around in a hornet's nest...there has to be those out there who are hiding out, just waiting for the right time to strike back..." He takes another sip of coffee..."All of this is for conversation's sake too, by the way, if anything I say happens to insult you, it's definitely not my intent." He smiles a bit. "I just find the whole thing really interesting..."
"Why? Teaching that boring?" Leah makes it a light question, tipped at the end into another swallow. She snorts. "Hell of a place and time for a debate. I should just go make you read my stuff, since I've already said it once.... There /are/ those hiding and waiting to strike. You saw the jailbreak story, didn't you? Freakin' Magneto and his insane bunch--" Some personal bitterness slashes through alto's cloth, and she frowns into her coffee. "Gotta keep an eye on them somehow. You've heard all the arguments, I'm sure. Me, I'd rather have 'em registered and known about, especially the recidivists if we can nab 'em, than on the loose. Sure, the majority aren't going to harm a fly, but do /you/ want to risk another Liberty Island? Another attack in the park? Another jailbreak? There are ways to stop it. Let's let the government work on how to do that."
Andrew chuckles and shakes his head. "To be perfectly honest, I don't think I'd put -anything- completely in the government's hands...especially something that can be as important as this. I hope that a solution can be thought up that will be satisfying enough for both sides...and that is what I'm trying to research, to see if I can't just come up with some sort of compromise to suggest." He stands up out of his chair..."Well, I guess I gotta get home, I got another early day ahead of me tomorrow." He reaches down and picks up his briefcase. "Pleasure meeting you, hope to run into you again soon. If you wanna chat again, feel free to look me up at the high school. It's in Brooklyn...Abraham Lincoln High School, right near Coney Island." He grins, before he turns and heads for the door. "Have a good rest of the day..." he replies over his shoulder.
Brooklyn's own accent rides after him, pleasant and amused: "Later, Andrew. Good luck on that compromise." Then Leah bends her attention back to her coffee, with a headshake and a twist to her slight smile.
[Log ends.]