Patching a Wheel
{{ | date=08/29/2018 | time=18:30 EST | summary=Alma asks Charles about being a judge. | cast=
| place_name=East Side Detroit - Lower East Side
| place_desc=This is one of the neighborhoods Alma really likes because of
the juxtaposition of humans and nature making space for each other and new
life. And this is a place where the dead are honored.
The Carson Youth Center and the Inque tattoo parlor are in sight. | log=Alma is examining the tire of her bike. It needs a patch. She starts to dig a repair kit from the little bag under her bike seat when she looks up and sees Inque. She sniffles and starts crying again. She stops for a while and gives herselfsome moments to breathe slowly until she is calm again. She goes back to patching her bike.
Charles walks a lot and is slowly developing patrol patterns in areas that he is slowly beginning to thing of as 'his territory'. This just happens to be one of them and as he walks down the street, he is either studiously ignored, or people make an almost unconscious effort to avoid him. Still, he is observant and catches sight of Alma attempting to patch her bike in the distance. Picking up his pace, he gives voice to a greeting once close enough: "Hello Ms. Alma."
"Hey Charles," She looks down at her bike. "I have a flat," says captain obvious. She consider Charles for a moment before continuing, "I didn't intend to insult you the other day. I'm sorry."
Charles sighs softly and crouches down next to Alma, arms across his knees. "You didn't insult me. Your friend, Wednesday caught me off guard and put me on edge. We're a touchy people at the best of times and the full moon does us no favors when it comes to dealing with humans. "But I can't really write a book. Anything I could down would be a risk to those I call family."
Dressed for the warm, humid day--lightweight yoga wear and sandals, with the ever-present leather bag slung across her body--Maya comes out of the tattoo shop and pauses long enough to put on sunglasses. She scans the street, and then pauses when she sees the bike. And the woman. And the man crouching next to her.
Alma looks taken aback, "Oh, oh! I see. I didn't mean for you to write things down about. family. I thought, you know, write about anything. cooking. birds. airplanes." She smiles weakly. She's fiddling with the brakes on her bike to release them. She stops for a moment and looks at Charles. "Did you feel a calling to be a judge? You mentioned you were born for it."
Charles shakes his head, his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "I was born a judge, so that is what I am. I enjoy human history. You're very clever and resourceful. All the spoken languages are very interesting as well, as the variation is endless." The homeless man lifts a hand and adjusts the goggles atop his head, almost selfconsciously.
After those few moments of slow breathing and careful consideration, Maya starts heading toward them.
After releasing the brakes Alma opens the quick release lever and with a little twist she pops off her wheel. "Have you got a library card yet?" She asks Charles.
<<DICE>> Charles rolls perception + alertness, difficulty 6
<<DICE>> FAIL (1 2 2 5 9, Specialty: No, Willpower: No)
Unaware of Maya's approach, Charles continues speaking with Alma. "No. I have no ID, so I can't get one. People throw out a lot of good books, so I gather up those."
Maya keeps her distance, her voice pitched quiet as she asks, "Everything okay?"
"But, I think Detroit has municipal IDs. You wouldn't need state or federal papers for that. We just started doing that in Chicago. It's really good for undocumented people. I can find someone to help you walk through the process. Want to try?" Alma opens the valve on her tire and releases all the remaining air. She pushes on the tire to get a section of the tire bead free. At Maya's question, Alma looks up and finally notices the dreamspeaker. "Yes?" she says, searching Maya's face. "It's just a flat tire." neutral. "I have a repair kit."
<<OOC>> Maya says, "Can I get emotional mood type stuff from y'all? You can page it, or @pemit, or whatever you'd like."
<<DICE>> Maya rolls perception+empathy+1, difficulty 6
<<DICE>> 6 successes (5 5 6 6 7 9 10, Specialty: Yes, Willpower: No)
<<OOC>> Alma is very upset. It's easy to notice. Her eyes are red, like
she's been crying. Some of the dust on her face is streaked, like she wiped
tears. She's calmer now. Talking to Charles has lifted her spirits some.
There's some excitment that correlates to when se talked about the library
and the municiple ID.
Charles looks over at Maya and tilts his head to one side, nose wrinkling up briefly. "Hi," he greets, then returns his attention to Alma. "While I would like a library card, I'm not certain that I like the idea of giving people a means of tracking me. Everything has a cost."
Maya's expression is etched with worry, even as she acknowledges Charles with a guarded little nod. She takes a couple of steps in Alma's direction. "My car's close, if you want to just head for a shop to pick up a new tube," she says in that same quiet, concerned voice.
Alma begins to explore the tire tube for the cause of the flat. "I'm okay," She tells Maya. "I just found the cause of the flat. I can patch it, no problem." She starts patching the tube. "Remember Charles? You met him while we were giving out food?"
Charles extends a hand in Maya's direction, while offering up a smile. "Hello again."
The answering smile is a little less than certain, still compromised by the obvious worry for Alma--but Maya gives the man her hand, and nods. "Hey," she offers.
Alma takes out her wallet and pulls a card out. It is a "Know Your Rights" card. English on one side. Spanish on the other. "I give these out to people who might need them. Cops go after homeless." She frowns. "If you can't find a book on a topic you want, let me know. I'll try to find one for you. Maybe I can use my library card. I have a city one and one for Wayne State." She sands the area of her tube with the puncture and applies patch glue to it. To Maya, "Hey. I'm just going to go home after this. I have a lot on my mind and I--" She is interrupted by Note landing on her shoulder. "Note." Her eyes tear a little.
Note returns with a gift: Kai said to tell her she doesn't hate her. And will figure out the rest. Soon.
Charles' hand drops to his side once the handshake is completed, then pockets the cards from Alma with a faint smile. "I'm pretty good at avoiding the cops. And thankyou for the offer." When the bird arrives and the resultant tearing up, the Philodox frowns. "Do you need help with something?"
The worry tightens those lines around Maya's eyes and in her forehead. She steps closer to Alma, crouching down next to her. Note even gets a worried look, a sort of shared feeling, before Maya's focus returns to Alma. Even more quietly, she asks, "Is there anything I can do?"
Alma looks between Maya and Charles. "My friend doesn't" Before she can finish that Note blows in to her ear. Alma's eyes widen. She swallows. "It's really. complex. There's stuff going on here with my friends, but there's this other stuff. I have a calling. I thought it was to be something like a judge." She looks at Charles, "which is why I asked you about it. Most of us," She indicates Maya and herself, "learn with other people. Some more organized than others. I'm quiting my group. Because they don't meet my moral code. It really hurts. It's like I'm losing a parent. I don't know if there's anything you can do." It's a plural you. She includes both of them when she says that.
A look of appalled alarm comes to Maya's face, utterly transparent, still suffused with worry for Alma. "You're-- you're leaving the Chakravanti?" she whispers.
Alma nods. "Yes. I can't do it. I can't stand the thought of killing someone just because of this idea of reincarnation. It's not right. And I sked my mentor about something and they said they could see a baby's soul and know if it needed killing because of the soul. Not even giving this Being a chance to choose. It's not right, Maya."
Tipping her head, Maya tries to get a good look at Alma's face. She seems perfectly comfortable in that low crouch, like she's from the Kalahari or something. "Yeah," she says softly. "That's pretty fucked up."
"I want to go to Ann Arbor, to talk to my mentor in person." She looks at the tire she just fixed. "Maybe I should get a new tube before I go. This will work good enough for now." She reseats her wheel. "I guess you can tell I'm really sad, huh? You and Wednesday. It's life. That's how it goes. I thought Kai hated me too. But Note just told me different." She's managing not to cry right now.
Having gone silent while the two women talk, Charles crouches there like some grubby third wheel.
"No one hates you," Maya says swiftly, reaching out to set a hand on Alma's shoulder, curving around it, present without holding. "It's all right. It happens sometimes." She swallows. "If you want, I could ask... my people? I mean, we have... I've known... speakers like you, who are part of us."
She keeps her voice quiet, not so Charles *can't* hear, but just... making the words unobtrusive to anyone passing by, maybe.
"I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. I'm going to need a lot of time
to think about this. I don't want to rush in to anything, like I've been
doing." Alma looks at Charles, "Do you get choices? You said you were born a
judge. Have you ever had to work with people you didn't agree with? on some
huge matter?" Alma's tire is finally back on firm, and she's tired of
crouching. She stands. Her vest starts bzzing like mad. bzzz. bzzzz. then a
few seconds later. bzz again. she jerks and looks at her phone. "Wednesday."
(Alma's pocket starts buzzing like mad. bzzz. then a pause. bzzz bzzz. more bzz. Wednesday is carpet-texting Alma. She takes a moment to reply and then puts her phone away)
Alma's questions make Maya look over and up, to Charles--watching for his reaction, with eyes that seem far too invested in the answers.
Charles snorts softly, amusement and irritation in equal measure. "Yes, although I am young. I don't have the standing to have my voice heard on truly weighty matters. And my birth often counts against me," he adds, while straightening up. "But, I always try and strike a balance when I am called on and sometimes that means making difficult decisions." He looks over at Maya and flashes his teeth, which are in surprisingly good repair for a homeless guy. "And you needn't look so worried Ms. Maya, I'm not going to do something unfortunate. I was told of you and some of your history here, Spiritspeaker," he adds by way of explication. He doffs an imaginary cap in her direction. "Heads-and-Tails, Metis, Judge, and a child of Rat."
That sharpness in her eyes fades just a little into ... not quite humiliation, but definitely *something*. Maya's face heats, turning scarlet enough that the white line at her throat stands out--at least, when she rises and lifts her chin to look him in the eyes. For a few seconds. "Just Maya is fine," she says quietly.
"Thank you Heads-and-Tails, Metis, Judge, and child of Rat. I am Alma Hunter. former Chakravanti. Now 'orphan'" She bows. "I need to go back home. think about things. meditate. Bye Maya." Alma looks at them both. "Thank you for keeping my company." She bikes off. }}
