Owner	Pose
Hayal	There are many lovely fountains in Central Park. Not least of which is the Angel of the Waters, at the beautiful Bethesda Terrace. The bronze angel smiles down, hand outstretched in blessing over the tiers beneath her, as the water falls softly into the broad basin. The problem is that there's an excess of angels. Namely, the bronze seraph and her attendant cherubim are fine, but in the basin, there's another angel, dipping and splashing like the world's largest pigeon. Hayal has his shirt off and his wings out, and he's letting water trickle over the spread with every evidence of enjoyment....and no selfconsciousness at all. No human has yet really decided to bother him about it. The wings might have something to do with it, as might the fine lines of glowing tattoos that trace over the pale body. At least he has his pants on.
Hugo Bell	Hugo loves these Spring evenings, when the park is alive with new flowers and green leaves. The lanky fellow walks along, unhurried, and he does in fact stop to smell the flowers. Ah, the fountain. It marks the halfway point from one subway station he takes and another. Sure he could just ride home, but miss the park? Perish the thought. He pauses, squinting at the angels, plural. The splashing one does rather throw off the aesthetic, and all Hugo can do for a moment is stare, racking his overburdened mind for some reference that would explain... this. Unfortunately, it's not a matter of having too little information but too much, and it all wants to scream itself at him at once. He closes his eyes, and when, upon opening them, the angel is still there, he clears his throat and says, "Excuse me."
Hayal	It takes him a minute to realize he's being addressed, and he rounds on the human in question with an inhuman grace. But his expression is one of polite inquiry, rather than threat or incomprehension. "Yes?" he says, with a strange, indeterminate accent apparent, even in that monosyllable.
Hugo Bell	Full disclosure, Hugo hadn't gotten further than 'excuse me' in his mind. He stands there, looking this way and that, a little lost as he's managed to put himself on the spot. "Uh, are you all right?" No less than a thousand iterations of the 'fell from Heaven' joke occur to him, and he dismisses them all. This is important! This is serious! Playing in the fountain is probably illegal.
Hayal	They could be just....good costuming, right? No. Not the way they move with him, clearly affected by the muscle moving under the skin. They don't seem heavy for being wet, though, as he sloshes over to the edge of the pool - they seem to drift lightly on the air, even with that slow movement. "Yes, thank you," he says, still politely. "And are you?" He's mastered that much of human interaction, at least.
Hugo Bell	Hugo sidles back a step. There's no overt suspicion about him, he's just cautious. One might get the impression an approaching squirrel would get the same treatment. "Yeeesssss," he says. "I'm all right. Got a bit of a headache coming on, but that's nothing new." A pause, then, "I don't think we're allowed to splash in the fountain."
Hayal	"No?" he says, a little blankly, looking around. Someone's filming him on a phone, but no one's telling him to get out. "I did wonder.....it does feel so pleasant. You should join me. I've found the more people are doing something, the less likely anyone person is to object. Pack instinct."
Hugo Bell	"Oh, gosh," Hugo says, "I couldn't. I have to catch a train, and they'll look at me weird if I'm soaking wet." Like anyone would even glance up, it's the New York subway. Still, the man has anxiety. "Are you just, uh, hanging out in the water? Or did you need a bath, or...? I don't want to interrupt you, but I don't think the water's particularly clean."
Hayal	Hayal looks down at himself, taking a survey. "I suppose not," he agrees, with a sigh. "All this liquid water all over this planet, and yet so little of it is unfouled. Disappointing." Someone is bananas....except that he's apparently the real deal. Unthinkingly, he stretches the wings out to dry them.
Hugo Bell	Hugo watches the wings. Yeah, those are real. It could be a mutation, but the knowledge weighing upon him tells him there's something off about that assumption. Maybe it's how the winged one seems confused by social convention. Mutants are still human, they've still grown up in society. One hopes. "So where did you come from?" he asks.
Hayal	That shouldn't be a hard question.....but seemingly it is. For the angel doesn't reply immediately, and for a long moment he goes almost comically shifty-eyed. But then he settles on a question in return. "How recently are we discussing?"
Hugo Bell	Hugo exhales sharply through his nose. Yeah, he wasn't expecting an easy answer. "How about within the past five years." He shifts a little where he stands, adjusting the grip on his briefcase. He looks like an academic, down to the leather patches on his tweed jacket.
Hayal	Still more consideration. "Mostly Brooklyn," he settles on. "Israel, sometimes. Iraq and Afghanistan, sometimes." Hayal nods at that, solemnly. Believe me, human. I am totally believable.
Hugo Bell	Hugo nods slowly. "Okay. Are you military?" Weakly, he adds, "Earth military?" He honestly doesn't conduct most conversations like this, but something about Hayal has his mind going off in all sorts of directions. It's not even that he *wants* to believe in angels. More like he's trying to rule it out.
Hayal	"I have been," Hayal says, with a kind of deliberate vagueness. "I have been a ....private contractor, mostly. It is more flexible." He's very clearly parroting things he's heard said elsewhere. There's that strange incomprehension in his eyes.
Hugo Bell	"Okay," Hugo says again. "Do you have a home?" He sighs quietly. One of these days, being soft-hearted will get him in trouble. He knows it will. But the incomprehension in Hayal's eyes tugs at Hugo's sympathies. "It's not always so warm and nice this time of year. We might get more rain."
Hayal	Hayal's smile at that is beatific. Nearly idiotic. "Oh, rain. I *love* rain," he says, with a child's pleasure. Apparently that is not precisely a drawback. "I have a place to stay and rest, if that is what you're asking. I don't have a home, as most people understand it."
Hugo Bell	"So you don't need help," Hugo says tentatively. "You're good." He doesn't have to feel guilty, in other words, if he continues on to catch his train. Which he starts to do, but he pauses, waiting for an answer, and adding, "Just stay sharp. The police don't always know what to do with people like you."
Hayal	That smile - innocent as the dawn. "Police here can't fly. They couldn't catch me," he says, easily. Grinning at Hugo as if inviting the mortal to get in on the joke. "But I understand that your question is from kindly meant concern, and I am grateful. I am Hayal."
Hugo Bell	Hugo tries to look disapproving. They live in a society of laws for a reason, and not rocking the boat is the way to get by in the world. His dark gaze is stern, but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Hugo," he says, and he offers his hand like he would introducing himself to anyone.
Hayal	Hayal doesn't even bother to dry his hand, before slapping it into the mortal's. The handshake is simultaneously cartoonishly enthusiastic and way too delicate. As if he'd broken humans before in the rituals of greeting, without even meaning to.
Hugo Bell	Hugo has learned the perfect median handshake, which meshes oddly with Hayal's contribution. His arm is a little too loose, maybe. His grasp, while firm, isn't very strong. He's painfully mortal, and no doubt imminently breakable. "So, uh, what do you do, Hayal? Besides splash around in fountains."
Hayal	Hugo can *see* that question filter through. "Well," he says, after a beat too long of hesitation. "I read. I walk. I peoplewatch. I'm not always fighting. One doesn't need to fight all that much to make a surprising amount of money," he tells the human.
Hugo Bell	"You can do other things to make money," Hugo says amiably. "You could even work with people who love to read." He pauses, though. Could those wings really be accommodated in the library? Books would sweep off the shelf. His attention shifts to the wings thoughtfully. "Of course, I can't say it makes the same kind of money."
Hayal	Now he looks ....uneasy. As if he's inadvertantly misled this mortal. "Oh," he says, more gently. "I like fighting. It....it was my function." ....is he an android?
Hugo Bell	Hugo's expression goes bland. "You don't look like someone who's gung ho for a fight," he says. "Besides, you can evolve beyond your function. I have to believe that." Since his apparent function is as a walking encyclopedia who is slated to kark it.
Hayal	The way Hayal cocks his head....it's absurdly bird-like. As if he had genuine trouble making it compute. "We don't.....we don't ....evolve." But he has. He's changed. It's why he's here, down in the mire of the worldof matter, both literal and figurative.
Hugo Bell	Hugo studies Hayal, watching his expression with a keen eye. "Don't we?" he asks quietly. He clears his throat, then says, "Come on, I'll get you a cup of coffee. There's a kiosk not too far away. It's going to start getting cold soon, and that fountain isn't going to be much fun once the night air sets in."
Hayal	The human is trying to be nice. He'll play along. "I like coffee," he says, innocently. "Especially with sugar." And he climbs out of the fountain....and politely steps a ways away. All the better to shake himself off like a dog, down to the pinfeathers. Water goes everywhere, and he's left looking absurdly bedraggled.
Hugo Bell	Hugo watches with consternation. How has this creature not been arrested yet? Not that it's against the rules to shake water off, but even so. "Riiight, it's this way," he says, and he leads the way toward the kiosk. Sure enough, there's a little coffee stand, still open, though not for much longer. "Order whatever you like," he tells Hayal, then places his own order for a house coffee, black.
Hayal	He has a coat, and he shrugs it on...and just like that, the wings are gone. Now he's just a wet, apparently possibly homeless guy. "Thank you," he says, gently. Then, "Hugo." As if trying out the name.
Hugo Bell	Hugo blinks a few times as the wings go away. "Neat trick," he says. Then he smiles as his name is used. He hands his bank card over to pay for the coffee. "So where is this place of yours? I can walk you home, if you want. I've already missed the first train, so I've got some time to kill."
Hayal	"It is....near the bridge," And he recites his address. NEvermind the wings, if anything proves he's not a native New Yorker, it's his guileless willingness to say where his home is. But then, Hugo isn't another angel.
Hugo Bell	"That's not a very safe neighborhood," Hugo says, "but okay. I can walk you a little ways there. If you're going home, that is. Sorry, I shouldn't assume. This is just the time I'm going home, so I thought... well, I didn't think. Not everyone works a nine to five. Especially fighters."
Hayal	Hayal looks at him, for a long moment. "No, it is not. Maybe you should not. If you walk me to my home and leave me there, you would go back alone. Maybe I should walk you to your home? Or part of the way there. You do not need to tell me where you live."
Hugo Bell	"Yeah, that might be a better idea," Hugo says with a small smile. "I don't often garner much attention, but I wouldn't know how to defend myself. I was just on my way to the subway." He gestures vaguely in the direction of the station. "I like to walk through the park on nice nights like this."
Hayal	"Is that not dangerous? Is ....how do you live here, not knowing how to defend yourself? I am told it is a very rough place to live, New York City," The angel nods, solemnly, and there is concern writ large on the pale face.
Hugo Bell	Hugo shrugs and says, "I stick to populated areas," he says, "and I try not to go off anywhere out of earshot of other people. I'm rarely out after dark except in winter. I suppose I rely a lot on the goodwill of those around me and the fact that I'm rather tall. People don't tend to bother me."
Hayal	His hair's drying in ridiculous ringlets. "So being alone, or with just one other is most dangerous, even here?" Hayal sounds faintly disappointed. Why are humans so awful to each other? It never makes sense.
Hugo Bell	"We're easier to pick off if we're alone," Hugo says. "Anyway, I haven't been mugged yet, so I don't worry about it too much. I stick to safe areas, and I do all right. The city's a lot safer than it used to be. The only time anything bad has ever happened to me here, it was a fluke. I don't think it'll happen again."
Hayal	He's remembered sugar. Remembers lots of sugar, in fact - three or four packets disappear into his cup, as he listens. Then he looks up again. "What happened?" he asks, genuinely curious.
Hugo Bell	Hugo considers Hayal for a moment. "Magical accident," he eventually says. "Spell misfired. I happened to be walking by. I got a bit fried." He smiles a little, though there's no humor in his eyes. "Less than one in a billion chance. I don't think I have to worry about it happening again."
Hayal	"You're alive, though. You speak. Did it hurt you badly?" The angel inquires, blue eyes very bright. All but sniffing the human over. Even odds if they were somewhere less public, he'd be doing it for real.
Hugo Bell	Hugo keeps his head held high and he opts not to give the near-sniffing an outward response. Such is his thin veil of dignity. "It took me several months to recover," he says. "I still get headaches. All in all, it could've been much worse." He's not a great liar, and only so so at omitting the truth. There's more there he's not saying.
Hayal	He comes in, too close. Not touching Hugo, but still in his space. As if somehow that would tell him something. "What kind of spell was it?" His voice nearly a whisper.
Hugo Bell	Hugo's gaze flits over Hayal's features, then drops. "I'm not a sorcerer," he says softly. "I don't know the exact incantation. An attempt to store knowledge in a receptacle." His voice wavers. He swallows, then says, "Anyway, aside from the headaches, I'm all right."
Hayal	"I know enough of magic to know that ....usually does not work on people," The angel's voice is slow, his brow furrowed. "Are you really? That seems unlikely."
Hugo Bell	Hugo exhales slowly, his gaze still on the ground. "No," he admits. "I'm not. There's nothing I can do about it, though, so there's no need to fret about it. I just take every day as it comes, and I live my life. We go into it knowing it doesn't last forever, so it's important to appreciate each day."
Hayal	"Very few humans I have met are so calm about losing any of the time they have," he says, still wondering. "You can't undo it? Or find a way to....slow it, prevent it?"
Hugo Bell	Hugo slowly starts toward the train again, and he takes a drink of his coffee before he says, "I don't know how to undo it, no, but I've made lifestyle changes to slow it down. I try to avoid too much excitement, and outside of my normal academic curiosity, I don't go off seeking information that might... might trigger a reaction. I engage in meditation, I do soothing things like walk through the park."
Hayal	Hayal nods at that. No platitudes, no comfort. So many humans helped into death by his hand.....and yet, there's real sorrow in his face. More naked than the average human would be about it.
Hugo Bell	Hugo says gently, "It's really all right. The things I've seen? The knowledge I've learned? It's worth it. I have the privilege of living an extraordinary life, and how many people really do? I keep journals, so that what I learn isn't lost. It will outlive me, and that's okay, too."
Hayal	"I am glad you see it," he says, softly. "So very few do. Most turn their face away, pretend they don't know what's coming. The mind grasps, but the body refuses to hold."
Hugo Bell	"We're not made to contain this," Hugo says gently. "The mind rebels against what it can't survive. Anyway, I could have a decade left in me, maybe more. There's no way to tell for sure, and maybe by some twist of fate, I'll find a cure. A stop gap. I haven't given up hope. I've just made peace with what may be."
Hayal	The angel bows his head to that. "You are wise," he says, simply. Then he's looking up at the darkening sky. "I should leave you - I think you will be safe to your home, now?" Apparently flight is calling.
Hugo Bell	Hugo nods and says, "Sure, the station's just up ahead." He nods to a set of stairs leading down to the subway just across the street. It being New York, and him being sure it's unlikely he'll ever actually see Hayal again, he stops to offer him a genuine smile. "Take care of yourself, Hayal. Thank you."