2019-09-29 - Coffee and Wallabys


Sarah Rainmaker runs into Gar Logan, and the two head it off. Gar outlines his pitch for a new show for adults and kids alike. Sarah is impressed by his desire to bring the evils of colonialsm and imperialism to the kiddies.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sun Sep 29 08:04:13 2019
Location: Central Park

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Theme Song



It's a Saturday afternoon in New York City, perhaps 80 degrees at three pm, and thunderclouds are building to the west. Garfield Logan, star of the small screen (if a dozen Made for SyFy movies and a Star Trek rip-off that ran for two years before ending on a cliffhanger counts as being a star), has been caught wandering in the park by a few young fans — more of the terrible schlocky movies than the reasonably good TV show — while on the phone with his agent. The kids, in their mid teens, are clamoring for autographs, which Gar is trying to give while maintaining his conversation.

"Gene," he says. "Gene let me — here you go, kid, you have a great day — let me get a word in ed… GENE!" He hands off another autograph, vexation showing in his furrowed brow. Another autograph signed. "Gene! Shut up, for the love of Pete!" He takes a breath, shocked briefly by the fact that Gene, apparently, does shut off. "Okay, so you're telling me they want me to play myself in 'Camp Bloodbath: the Return of Grinder Gary,' and you think this is a good career move?!"

Dodging betweens ome of the slower walkers, is a coppery-skinned young woman dressed in a green tank top over a black sports bra, with tight running shorts and sneakers as she keeps a rapid pace, not quite a run but a ground eating jog. Her long hair is pulled back in a long plaited braid in black, that falls to her rear and bounces as she moves. A smartphone is tucked into a pouch on her upper arm, as she has a small drawstring backpack she wears in red on her back. No makeup or anything, but then, why would you wear it for working out?

She slows a bit as the yell draws attention, raising a dark brow at that as she slows to a stop, panting softly as she takes a moment, starting to wander over towards the water fountain near where Gar and his fans are gathered. "Seems like it'd defeat the purpose of being an actor…" she murmurs, perhaps loud enough for good ears to hear.

The green man glances up toward the speaker, smiles wryly, then signs the last of the requested autographs and, gently, shoos away the kids. "Gene, I'm not saying that it's not a novel idea… though you'll recall that Scream 3 took place on a movie set. And 'Wrong Turn 2' had a reality show being filmed in the killer hillbillies' home territory. And… Sal, seriously. I -just- moved to New York."

A pause.

"They want Camp Bloodbath to be in Central PARK?!"

His eyes return to Sarah and he mouths something that might be 'Are these people insane?!'

Sarah flashes a grin before pausing to take a deep drink of water, cupping some of it to let it run down her cleavage briefly to cool down a little. She wanders over to take a seat at a nearby bench, listening curiously to the display. "I think I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have a summer camp in the middle of a public park. Especially not Central Park."

Gar Logan is many things. He's not typically a lecher, but it's hard not to take note of a lovely woman like Sarah Rainmaker applying moisture to herself in such a way. He almost misses what Gene says next.

"Wait. Repeat that." Pause. "I see," he says, voice thick with sarcasm. "Yes, I suppose getting the permission of the City of New York to film a horror movie on location was a good first step. It worked SO well for Friday the 13th part 8. Gene, you know I act because I love acting — not because I need to, right? Because you are starting to make me understand why Connery quit."

Sarah doesn't usually eavesdrop. She's certainly a bit curious, though…well, she doesn't seem to actually recognize Gar. Which is suprising, perhaps! Then again, someone who hasn't really watched any movies in…well, a long time, that'd do it really.

She doesn't seem to mind the quick look, or doesn't show it if she does, stretching her arms above her head as she pulls her legs up to sit crosslegged, her forearms resting comfortably over her thighs as she breathes in and out slowly, catching her breath a bit. Enjoying the scent of rain in the air as the dark clouds continue to move to block out the sun. "Cumulonimbus…" she murmurs absently to herself.

Really, Gar only expects recognition for his color, not his filmography. He's been in the news before — missing child of deceased millionnaires found alive in Africa; Logan heir sues for emancipated minor status, accuses guardian of malfeasance and embezzlement. It's generally refreshing when somebody doesn't show up and say 'Hey, aren't you that kid who can turn into a dog? C'mon, boy, sit!'

"Gene," he says at last, "send me the script if you must. I will read five pages. If I am not completely wowed, it goes in the fire and I find myself a new agent. Capische? Bye, Gene."

He hangs up, holds up a hnd toward Sarah for a moment, begging her indulgence, then turns his head toward the sky and releases a howl of annoyance akin to those offered up by your better class of wolves.

When he turns back toward Sarah, his ears are a little pointed. He seems to have grown mossy sideburns in a matter of seconds. And a canine tooth extends over his lower lip just a little. "Hi," he says, his voice a bit more gravelly than it was when on the phone. "I'm Gar Logan. Sorry about that."

There's a husky laugh from the Amerindian woman as she leans back on her hands. "That's one way to get out a primal scream of sort." She she grins a bilt, tilting her head curiously. "I'm Sarah. Sarah Rainmaker." she offers after a moment.

On cue, there's a distant rumble of thunder and a little flash of lightning through the clouds. She totally didn't do that! But she'll take it!

The well-timed thunder causes Gar to raises his eyes toward the gathering clouds, raise an eyebrow slightly. Out of curiosity he says, "Blucher!" and waits a moment. Then, "No? Guess I have to do it myself."

Suddenly there's a horse where the man stood, and it releases an appropriate neigh.

Then the man is back. "Sorry. I'm a sucker for the film reference. I'm assuming your name has nothing to do with the incoming storm — though it was a particularly well-timed coincidence."

Sarah lets out a laugh at that. "Mmm, Young Frankestein….my mom used to love Mel Brooks stuff." she says cheerfully. "And no, that was not something I did." she says, a twinkle in her eyes as she says it, a mischievious one. "That time, at least."

She shrugs her shoulders, looking at Gar curiously. "So, you're an actor? Sorry, I haven't gotten to see any movies for a long time, so I'm kinda on a years long backlog at this point." she admits, a bit sheepishly.

"You wouldn't find me in many good movies," Gar admits. "I'm a decent actor, but between my coloration and my powers I mostly get stuck playing 'Alien Bird' and 'Knight's Talking Horse.' Now and again SyFy will toss me a bad script that's got a fun role — rarely the star, but hey, supporting actor will do. And then I get calls about Camp Bloodbath 7: Grinder Gary Goes Green." He rolls his eyes, raises his hands to the sky in supplication. "My kingdom for a part in a Tarantino film! I'll even take Eli Roth!"

Another laugh escapes Sarah as she tilts her head. "Sometimes the character roles are more interesting than the main roles though, right?" she wonders, tilting her head. "I mean, granted, you do a REALLY realistic talking horse." she says with a grin. "Hard to beat that." She shrugs slightly. "I totally get the coloration thing though. Or the powered thing, anyway. People see the powers, not the person I'd guess?"

The horse reappears for a moment to say, in an excellent impression of Mr. Ed, "Hello, Wilburrrr!" And then Gar is back again. "Frequently, yeah, that's the case, and it's hard to pretend to be normal. There are maybe a dozen green people on the planet. And yet sometimes I'm still mistaken for the Hulk, you know?" He shakes his head ruefully. "Though I'll wager it's fairly difficult to blend as a powered Native American beauty, too. If enough people know what you look like without a mask, anyway." He somehow figures she doesn't wear one in general.

"No offense, but you're a bit less buff than the Hulk." Sarah says amusedly, tilting her head, reaching back to shift her braid so it's in front of her right shoulder so she can lean back without catching it, her fingertips idly fiddling with the tip. "Mm, I've never really hidden what I am." Sarah says, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean it's kinda in the name…I didn't see the point of something fancy or a mask."

She frowns a bit to herself. "People who I'd want to hide from already know who I am, anyway. And I'm not exactly majorly in the public eye." she notes. "I mean, I doubt many people would even know who I am if you asked them." There's another rumble of thunder, much closer now, another flash of lightning as people are starting to head for cover.

"None taken," Gar says amiably. "Some people are idiots." It's just an observation, though inwardly the number of idiots out there is far too high for him. "It's probably just as well. I like the fame, but it gets to be a bit much some days, and given the parts I've played, more people know me for what happened before I was on TV, you know?" Not that he actually expects her to know his history — just that he figures she can understand being known for things you'd rather not have remembered. If at all.

He glances skyward again, frowns slightly. "I'm enjoying the conversation and figure you don't mind getting wet — but I'd rather be inside. Want to get a cup of coffee? My treat." A pause. "Or I can just turn into a duck."

From the native girl's blank expression, she has no idea what the before TV thing is, exactly. Living out in a desert for years, hard to get good news reception. She does nod a bit, then smiles. "No, I don't mind getting wet, but I can be wise enough to get out of the rain too." she says, gracefully pushing herself up to her feet.

"Mmmmm, the duck is tempting, buuuuut I could also go for a chai." she says after a moment of thought. "Lead on?"

Gar grins. "Beautiful and she doesn't know my sordid past," he observes. "Be still, my green heart." He waves on toward the edge of the park. East side. "There's a decent coffee shop just a little ways off. First thing I do when I move to a new place: locate the good coffee."

"Sounds like a plan then." Sarah says, quirking a brow as she smiles faintly. "I'm all for good coffee, let's go." She starts walking in direction indicated. "Did you only just move here recently? Me too…like, six months by this point. Maybe a bit longer…"

"Just a couple of weeks ago, here," Gar replies, falling into stride beside Sarah. "LA is great, but…" He waves a hand vaguely. "I don't know. I'm happy to play the comedian, but I got tired of not being taken seriously. I've got some ideas to do something more my own speed out here. Maybe try producing a play off Broadway. Maybe work on this idea I've got for a kids' show." He shrugs. "I'm not broke, you know? I can spend my time figuring out 'What's Next for Gar Logan?'" He raises his hands, framing the words as he says them, like headlines in a newspaper.

A soft chuckle. "Well, must be nice. This is the biggest city I've ever been in…the only real city I've ever lived in, honestly." She clasps her hands behind her back as she walks. "Sounds like you have a lot of options…I feel like I'm still trying to catch up, much less plan for the future." she admits, wrinkling her nose a bit as she idly brushes her braid back over her shoulder, the wind swirling strongly for a moment around them before it suddenly seems to listen as her eyes flicker with a brief inner glow. Now, there's a little bubble of sorts where the coming storm seems lessened.

Gar pauses a moment. He's been watching Sarah all the while, in part because making eye contact with the person you're speaking to is the polite thing to do, and in part because, well, she's a good-looking woman. He's not ogling or staring, but he does appreciate her appearance. He catches that glow, but his only comment is, "Handy trick, that."

He turns his eyes toward their destination points across the street at an independantly run and probably quite expensive coffee shop. It -is- the upper east side, after all. "That's the place. I haven't tried their chai, but I've never had a bad drink there so I'm guessing it's pretty good too. I did my catching up about… what… eight, nine years back, I guess. It is not so much fun, on the whole."

"Mmm. Can be. Tends to attract the wrong sort of attention other times." Sarah says neutrally, then glances over, smiling briefly before she crosses the street, then holds the door for Gar. "Well…I've got things I want to do. But I have to jump through hoops to get there first." she says with a sigh. "It's a little frustrating, to feel like I'm playing catch up still."

Once Gar is through she follows him in and up to the counter, smiling at the barista on duty but letting Gar order first as she looks around the place curiously.

Notably, the place is pricey. Possibly a good thing Gar is paying. It's not insane — but the average drink is on the order of $10 or so. Gar greets the barista by name, orders a comparatively simple drink — iced coffee, light ice, extra cream, sugar-free sweetener, the one that usually comes in the little blue packets. It's warm out, after all. And when Sarah orders her drink he pays for both, adds a 25% tip. Baristas work hard and a lot of people are jerks. Gar tries to make up for that a little.

He leads the way to a table where they can easily hear if their order is called, but out of the way of a ton of foot traffic. "So what are you catching up from? If you don't mind my asking."

Sarah comes from the world of McDonald's prices! So it's a little pricey still, but she's sort of getting used to big city prices at this point. Not that she has a lot to spend…it's not like being an Avenger pays per se. She does get a respectable allowance at least though, but doesn't object to Gar buying if he's insistent.

"Mmm, well…it's sort of a long story of suck." she says, taking a seat comfortably. "But the short version is, I was stuck where I couldn't really go to school for a long time, and when I did, well…the last school I was at wasn't much of a school, and I"m pretty sure they're just not going to want to send on transcripts." she notes wryly.

Gar snorts softly. "Been there," he agrees. "I didn't get to go to school 'til I was thirteen. I did okay, but… I mean, it wasn't a great situation and I wound up getting my GED a couple years later and learning from on-set tutors. Different situation, but I assure you, before I was thirteen there was a LOT of suck."

Sarah makes a face. "I'm sorry." she says simply. "I don't mean to bring up bad memories. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to learn like that. My mom did the best she could teaching me at home, but there's still a bunch of gaps in what you're expected to know to get a GED, much less try to get into a college."

She sighs, leaning back as she absently fiddles with the tip of her braid, shifting it in front of her shoulder again. "But I'm getting through it. I'm…free of a lot of the things that held me back, in more ways than one. And I've made friends and I've got a good home, and something that's…right, to be doing."

"Eh, I dealt," Gar says with a shrug. "There was a good deal of suck AFTER I was thirteen, too, and that made me long for the -old- suck. Nopt really." He chuckles softly. "Finding good people is always a good thing," he says. "And doing good is important too. I try to do my part, you know? Turn into a tiger and swipe claws at muggers and stuff."

He glances up as his name is called. "Be right back," he says, quickly goes to grab their drinks and brings them back to the table. "Your beverage, mademoiselle," he says with a passable French accent.

"Merci." Sarah says amusedly, taking the cup and a careful sip from it as she sighs out, before setting it on the table. "Mmm, you know, I never really wanted to be a vigilante hero like that? I just..wanted to use what I had to help people. Not the fighty stuff. I mean, I had to learn to because of…of things…" she says, skipping over something. "But that was more MMA exercise as much as anything else for a long time." She shakes her head. "When I was a kid on the rez, all I wanted to do is make it rain a bit more when we needed it, and a bit less when we didn't."

TShe mmms. "Now I'm in New York and half the time I'm ending up stopping some weirdo in a costume with some powers who decided he was having a bad day and just /really/ needed to rob a bank. Who /does/ that? Banks are terrible ideas to rob!"

"I mean, there's a lot of money to be had in there if you figure out a good way of doing it," Gar says with a shrug. "Just, far too many criminals just decide the way to do it is 'go in through the front door and take hostages', never mind that they live in a city where there are superheroes begging for opportunities to save the day like Mighty Mouse on every street corner. Get somebody who can walk through walls and you're in business." He smiles wryly. "Not that I'm looking to rob any banks, but the average criminal has about the same skill set as the average middle school bully, you know? And about the same level of brain as Winnie the Pooh." Now a green bear, Gar picks up his coffee and lifts it to his mouth with both paws. When he sips a trickle of coffee escapes the ursine maw. "Oh bother," he says with a spot-on Pooh voice.

That draws a laugh from Sarah as she shakes her head. "I think you're underestimating the Pooh." she notes, pausing to sip from her chai again as she inhales the scent. "How'd you get into that though? I mean, you're an actor…not exactly the sort of jump you'd expect, to green animal kingdom avenger."

"Pooh says it himself, Sarah," Gar says simply, and still in Pooh's voice. "I am a bear of very little brain." And then he's of green human persuasion again, and can more easily manipulate his coffee. "So, my parents were archeologists. RICH archeologists," he adds. "They basically got to pick and choose where they wanted to do digs 'cause they could afford to give money to governments to allow it, and to the locals so they wouldn't mind that the government allowed it. And yeah, that's kind of screwed up, but they weren't really big on stealing cultural treasures or anything — just documenting what they found." He takes a long swallow of coffee before continuing, "They'd bring me with them, and we went to Africa when I was about two years old. And I got bit by the wrong mosquito or something and picked up a nasty case of this disease called Sakutia. Animals were immune. Humans die. My parents did not want this. So they did some weird genetics mumbo jumbo — don't ask how archeologists had access to a genetic resequencer, I was two, I can't explain it — and gave me animal DNA. It turned me green. And I grew into the lovable cabbage you see before you."

Sarah blinkblinks. "…huh. Okay." she says curiously. "So not a mutant or anything like that, just…genetic resequencing combined with a strange disease?" She leans back slightly in her chair, chewing her lip for a moment, then offers. "I was born like this. My father has powers. Was in the military, but he retired. Part of a goverment program to create metahumans." She frowns. "Instead of treating him well though after her served, a covert group decided they wanted their own little murder squad of metahumans and told my dad that my mother had died in childbirth when she had me and kidnapped both of us. My mother managed to escape, but…my dad didn't know, and we had no way to contact him. So we hid out in the desert for years, trying to avoid the group that was still looking for me, or kids like me."

"Yeah, I'm no mutant. Just your run-of-the-mill scion who caught a disease and his parents moved genetic mountains to cure him." He spreads his arms. What you see is what you get.

"I think I begin to see what happened from there. They eventually found you and inducted you into the would-be next generation murder squad, yes? Man, evil quasi-governmental secret agencies are the same in fiction and reality. That sucks."

"Sorta." Sarah sips from her chai. "My mother passed away and…my dad…" She frowns. "…he'd remarried…and they killed him grabbing my half siblings. So they came for me eventually….followed another from the same program who came looking for me and my dad, actually. He wasn't too bad, helped fight them off, but…they pulled a fast one and got me declared a ward of the government. I couldn't fight them all. Not then."

She shakes her head. "So they stuck me in a school…" she says, using airquotes, "that was more of a lab to study me and try and make me and the other kids there into the sort of killers they wanted. We weren't having it, so we hatched a plan and broke out just short of my eighteenth birthday. I drew off a bunch of them to give the others time to escape, because I was the most mobile." She smiles. "Flying and all that. Then, well…the Young Avengers got called in to arrest me as a dangerous juvenile terrorist, but actually talked to me, then got me out of the situation long enough that I turned 18 and was legally no longer a ward. And they couldn't take me back…not with the YA protecting me. Not to mention we live at the BAxter Building, I'd /love/ to see them try to take on the Fantastic Four."

"I hear the Young Avengers are good that way — willing to talk instead of just assuming the bad guy is really evil. Nice tendency in the real world these days. Kids thinking." He smirks. "I have faith that the Fantastic Four can tie secret evil government agencies up in both red tape AND Mr. Fantastic."

"Well, I think it helped that I wasn't immediatley trying to blast them with lightning or something." Sarah says wryly. "They're good people though. A lot of them who helped me have gone off to do their own thing, but there's still a few who have stuck around…Starfire, Dazzler, Ironheart. They're good folks." She grins. "And Dr. Richards and Sue Richards are pretty cool people in person, not stuck up at all. So I'm pretty…safe?" She smiles. "Enough that I don't feel I need to constantly be looking for my back. I don't think whoever they are want to try and do anything too public or obvious that'll draw attentiont to them."

"Yes, evil government agencies are only effective when secret," Gar agrees, raising one hand to tap the side of his nose knowingly. "Not that I've ever encountered an evil government organization, but, you know, I read Stephen King." He flashes a grin. "Joking aside, Sarah, I'm really glad you've landed on your feet with good people around you. It's the best we can hope for, you know?"

Sarah nods, turning more serious. "Yeah, true. And you too! I mean, when you figure out where you want to go next." she says with a faint smile. "Hey, if you're really looking for heroics, maybe you'd consider joining up sometime too. Or at least giving us a call if you need a hand."

"I'm certainly open to teaming up," Gar says. "And likewise, of course — if you guys need a greenbottle fly on the wall or a green rhino trampling your enemies…" He pauses a moment, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card and a pen. He quickly writes a phone number on the back. "The number on the front goes to my business line. The one on the back is my cell."

Sarah takes the card, then hmms. "Got another?" And if offered, she'll borrow the pen and do the same back. "This one is the Baxter Building front desk…we don't really have a secretary or anything. Well, we do, but it's basically me." she says with a litle smirk. "Um, the other one is my personal phone though, if you need to get ahold of me?"

Gar does, of course, provide the card, and grins at her comment about being the secretary. "Hey, I don't hire a receptionist," he says. "Why should you?" His head tilts slightly at the latter comment, and then he nods. "I'll definitely give you a call. I don't know a ton of people in New York — and most of the ones I do know are either excited 'cause I was on that show with the space ship, or else want me to turn into a dog for them."

Sarah flashes a grin of white teeth. "Mmm, well, I promise not to beg you to turn into a corgi or something." she says amusedly. "Though if you come up with an interesting show, let me know? I haven't really gotten to see any shows or anything like that…and I'm still catching up on a bunch of pop culture shows as it is. I'll check yours out next though!"

"Hey, I'll tell you about the idea I've got for a kids' show that ought to appeal to adults, too," Gar says. A guy, he notes, could get lost in that smile. Good thing he's used to finding his way out of trouble. Smiles have teeth. "But my old one… Space Trek 3019…" He considers for a moment what to say about the show. "It was fun to make. I had good friends in the cast. But it was one of those shows that makes it in syndication more than anything, and when channels stop buying it as filler, it stops getting made. Plus, I was a kid, and I was not the actor I am these days. I was awful."

"Thanks for the warning?" Sarah teases absently, resting her chin on her hand as she listens. "I'll keep that in mind, don't worry. "What kind of kids show were you thinking, a nature based one?" she wonders thoughfully. "I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of parents out there who'd love to be able to watch stuff with their kids without being bored out of their skulls."

"I kinda got interested in the history of Australia awhile back," Gar says. "European colonization killed off a hell of a lot of native species in the long run — and sent the aboriginal people to live in the middle of nowhere. I'm thinking of a show that looks at a war between native animal species and the European cats and rabbits and pigs that drove them to extinction." He pauses a moment before noting, "I've never actually been to Australia, but I've got this image stuck in my head of a wallaby warrior, scarred from battle, making his slow way home to find his village destroyed, his people dead." He transforms into a wallaby to demonstrate, trodding back and forth on the bench he's been sitting on, weary, despairing.

Sarah perks a bit at that, looking interested. "A children's show that deals with the effects of colonialism and displacement of native peoples? That's heavy stuff, but the sort of thing kids don't always get in schools these days." she says, watching the wallaby pacing back and forth. "So, what does he do then?" she wonders.

The wallaby shifts form into a smaller creature, still a marsupial, but one not so well known as its larger cousins. "To be fair, The Last Airbender dealt with the problems with empirical expansion, but it's not quite the same anyway. Anyway, the wallaby finds one survivor in the village, a bilby child. He decides he has to protect her, and the pair of them join up with other native animals to fight the colonists. I haven't decided if I want to pull a Tarantino and let the show diverge from what happened in the real world — let the natives win in the end — but, I mean, if somebody picked up the show it'd be at least a few seasons long, I think. And since I've got the money to bankroll it, I could probably manage to get it out even if I don't find a network willing to distribute. There's always Netflix."

"People keep telling me to watch that one…" Sarah says in response to Airbender being mentioned. "It does sound interesting…" She looks thoughful, listening at the explanation. "Hmm, well, everyone loves a happy ending…and you don't see much of them in the real world. I guess the challenge would be giving an ending that is a good ending without it being an unrealistically impossible ending?" shes ays after a moment. "And Netflix is…I guess they do a lot of shows now? Sure?"

Gar nods sagely. "I think Space Trek's even on there," he says. "A lot of the stuff they have is awful, but there's a lot of good among the dross." He leans back in his seat, resuming human form once more, and continues to regale Sarah with tales of The Last Wallaby for the near future, at the very least.

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