7718/Funnel Cake Fun

Funnel Cake Fun
Date of Scene:	03 June 2019
Location:	Gravesend, Brooklyn
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Archive, Hugo, Exile

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Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo occasionally likes to go outside on the weekend. It happens. Especially when the weather is nice. Coney Island just has a nice feeling to it. Decades of happiness and touristy thrill walked into those floorboards, and he follows in the footsteps of many a visitor, looking around gawkishly with a funnel cake in one hand. He's letting it cool, so he hasn't bitten into it yet. Powdered sugar is dusted on his shirt, and he hasn't noticed. Most people pay the gangly nerd no mind. He's not exactly the sort who stands out.

Exile has posed:
This time, Hayal's got the wings hidden. All the better to pass as something like a normal human, right? But the blue eyes are very bright indeed, as he peers around from his seat on a bench. Watching the flow of people with enormous interest. When Hugo heaves in sight, though, he flaps a hand at him. He never does get human gestures a hundred percent right, it seems.

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo's attention draws sharply to the movement, and then he smiles. It only takes a millisecond of mental reordering to place Hayal without the wings. He wanders over and says, "It's you. How are you doing?" He gestures to the space beside him in an unspoken request to join him. "I don't know why, but I didn't expect you would remain in New York. I'm glad you did."

Exile has posed:
"I love New York, it's utterly fascinating. And cleaner than many other large cities, like Mumbai and Beijing," Hayal's voice is pleased, and he scoots over to make room. He understands that gesture, at least. "I'm well. What about you?"

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo sits, and he offers his funnel cake. "Have you ever had these before? It's a funnel cake. I can never eat a whole one." He tears off a little to nibble on. "I always get one when I'm here, though. They remind me of the county fair back home. The best part of summer when I was a kid."

Exile has posed:
He very delicately tears off a little piece, rich with sugar, and wolfs it down. "Yes, I have. I like them. Sugar and fat together, always a very tempting combination, is it not?" he wonders. "It seems a very messy food for a festival, though. The sugar gets everywhere."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo glances down and finally notices the sugar on his shirt. He brushes it off and says, "I suppose that's part of the fun when you're a kid. I never used to eat so much sugar and fat, but I started metabolizing somewhat quickly." When his brain exploded and he started thinking in overdrive. Quite a consumer of calories, the ol' grey matter. "I mean, I guess that's nice. I can eat whatever I want."

Exile has posed:
"I hadn't thought of that," Hayal says, more solemnly. "I know metabolism is often a concern for humans." God, he's so bad at being people. "Little ones seem especially fond of such things. Dog sausages are also like that. They have them at the ball park. Do you go to baseball games?"

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo shakes his head and admits, "I don't get out a lot. I like to walk down here on the weekends sometimes, and in the park of course, but I was never all that good at sports. I always had my nose in a book." He smiles a little. "Hard to read at a baseball game."

Exile has posed:
The angel nods, thoughtful. "It is very noisy there. The game is appealing. Something about the geometry of it....I find myself watching. It feels like an invocation, though I am not sure to whom, exactly."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo considers for a moment, then nods and says, "Yeah, I think I could appreciate the geometry of it now. Being able to anticipate the right plays might be entertaining. Frustrating, though, when you see it clearly and no one else seems to." He tears off a bit of funnel cake and offers Hayal some more. "Do you have a favorite team?"

Exile has posed:
Hayal accepts the bit, still with that finicking delicacy. He eats it in the tiniest possible bites. "No," he says, after a little. "I don't keep track well enough to really say. What about you?

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo shakes his head. "I guess it would be a coin toss between the Yankees and the Mets. I would probably lean toward the Yankees, just because the name is more familiar. It seems like an arbitrary reason to support a team, though. I think I'd rather just go to see the game and appreciate the greatest show of athletic ability. I'd probably get a lot of odd looks, though, cheering for both teams."

Exile has posed:
".....why?" Hayal asks, guileless. "I don't understand." At least he's upfront about it. "There seems a great deal of pageantry around gameplaying. Symbols and livery, like knights in battle long ago."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"Well, that's just it," Hugo says. "People expect you to have a particular loyalty to a team, to its brand. You're expected to pick a team and stick with them through thick and thin. Most people pick a team from their hometown or near their home town. There isn't one in my home town or state. I guess if I were living back in Kansas I'd support the Royals."

Exile has posed:
"I've flown over Kansas," Hayal brightens a little. "It's very flat. The tornados were very fun to play with. They brew up very impressive storms there." He sighs reminiscently, like a surfer for a particularly rewarding shore.

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo grins and says, "Yeah, it's flat. We never really got to play with the tornados. Mostly we went into the basement to wait them out." He glances sidelong at Hayal. "What kind of games do, ah, people like you play in storms?"

Exile has posed:
Hayal looks at the mortal, sidelong. "I mostly go around and around. Like the tea cup rides in amusement parks. Then it spits you out up in the the thunderhead, and the updraft takes you up and and up and up, and you can see for miles."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo says quietly, "That sounds amazing, actually. I'd like to to do that. Once, I mean, considering it would kill me. It's just that working out the details would be tricky. And we're rather flimsy." He glances up in the sky. "Must be nice to fly, not inside a plane."

Exile has posed:
There's an expresion of utter bliss on the angel's face. "It's amazing. Even here, fighting gravity. I feel so sorry for humans, who have to have equipment to fly."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"You sould," Hugo says. "Flying is such a pain, and when you've got long legs and can't afford business class, it's like being strapped to a medieval torture device and flung through the air. I've decided I'm never leaving New York City again any further than I can drive."

Exile has posed:
"What about trains? Trains are nice," offers Hayal, in a hopeful voice. "Or more expensive planes. Though trains don't seem to be as nice as once they were. I guess because so much attention is on the planes." He's looking up now, peering for the distant glint of an airliner.

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"Trains are all right," Hugo says. "Again, the leg room can be an issue, but at least business class is more affordable." He offers Hayal the last of his funnel cake. "I don't go very far anyway. I'm a homebody. My job is here, my hobby is here, and my home is here. I don't really have anywhere to go."

Exile has posed:
"But are you happy with that?" It's a blunt question, and he looks down from his scanning of the skies. "Many humans are. Some are restless and love to travel, in my experience."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo says, "I guess I used to want to travel. There are a few places I wouldn't mind seeing in person that I've read about. Greece, Rome. Japan. I've always wanted to try sushi in Japan." He waves a hand. "It's a lot of trouble, though, and there's so much left to do and so little time, and my health! My health isn't very good. So I'll just stay home."

Exile has posed:
Hayal nods his sympathy. Mortals are so fragile. "At least you are in a busy part of the world. So much comes to this city. So many people. One of the great nexuses of this planet. H ave you ever visited the statue on the water?"

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"Exactly," Hugo says. "I'm already in the center of the universe, why leave?" He nods then. "Sure, I visited the Statue of Liberty before I even moved here. It was on a class trip, eighth grade. We sold candy bars to make the money to come all the way from Wichita. Looking back, I cannot imagine what possessed our teachers to travel that far with that many preteens, when the idea of even having a cat seems like too much responsibility."

Exile has posed:
"How did you come here, from there?" he wonders. "It is a long way, especially to shift one's residence. Though humans in this country move more than most."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"I wanted to work here," Hugo says. "I suppose, at the time, it seemed like a great opportunity. All the rich history, the museums, and the kinds of books that come through the New York Library system. I remember feeling like I had a future here, one of a calibre I didn't have back in Wichita. So after I got my degree, I applied here, got accepted, and here I am."

Exile has posed:
Hayal is unashamedly licking his fingers to get the last of the sugar. "Only London is greater, I think, on that front." He rises, stretches with a sinuous grace. "

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo watches Hayal rise, and there's a wistfulness about him. "I would like to go to London," he admits. "Maybe once, before I die. I could save up for business class. It was the place I wanted to live if I didn't live in New York." He pauses then asks, "Can you fly there?"

Exile has posed:
"I can give you money," Hayal says, turning to blink at him. "I could fly there. I don't need to sleep. It might take me a couple days to do it.....but you'd need to fly in a machine. I could give you the money to do it."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
Hugo shakes his head, reflexively rejecting the offer. "I don't want you to spend your money on... I mean, if you think about it, we're virtually strangers. I wouldn't even know how to reach you again if I wanted to." He's not particularly subtle, no. Not smooth, either.

Exile has posed:
"I have a phone tablet," The angel says, brightly. "YOu can have its code. I don't need money. I just have it. YOu can have some of it."

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"I'd feel bad taking your money," Hugo says. He takes out his phone and offers it to Hayal, so he can put his number in its contacts. "Maybe if we become good friends, and it's not too much money, and it's my birthday or something."

Exile has posed:
"Every day is someone's birthday," It's an odd, oblique statement, but genuinely meant.

Archive, Hugo has posed:
"Tell you what," Hugo says, "If we're friends on my particular birthday, maybe we can revisit the idea of London together." He takes back his phone once he's got Hayal's number. Then he gets awkwardly to his feet. Yeah, this is about as social as he gets, and the introvert needs to go decompress now, so he says, "Anyway, I got to, uh... I'll see you later." He doesn't quite flee, but man, he's gone.