2007-03-01: Brats Will Be Brats


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Daniel almost skateboards over a little girl in Central Park and grows flippant with Scottie and Namir when they move in to help. Scottie and Namir briefly discuss the pros and cons of ever reproducing.

Date It Happened: March 1st, 2007

Brats Will Be Brats

Central Park

It's getting late into the afternoon in Central Park, and though the vegetation is a bit browned from the cold, the fact that it is the first of March seems enough to breathe a bit of springtime fresh air into the place. Snow still huddles in the shadows of trees and bushes, but its days are obviously numbered. The sun is shining in spite of the nippy air and there's something inexplicable on the breeze that brightens the park even more.

Namir Dayan wanders down one of the many paths that wind through the park, enjoying the whispers of spring. He's dressed in civilian clothes today, since he's still on leave due to his injuries. Today's ensemble consists of black slacks and a green button-down shirt beneath a dark overcoat. The square of gauze has been removed from his face, exposing a slightly reddened patch of skin on his cheek where the blister once was. His hands are still bandaged in some places and remain covered by gloves, but they're healing quite well.

The sound of wheels rumbling across a paved path in the park herald the arrival of Daniel, who's on his way home from doing irresponsible teenagery things. School's long since let out, and it's left him with a shiny new bruise just below his right eye. Fist fight? Yeah, you better believe it. He glides along on his skateboard with a tattered backpack hanging off one shoulder, occasionally giving the ground a slight kick to keep himself going. It would be wrong to say that the teenager is dressed appropriately for the weather: cargo pants and an olive green hoodie seem to do the job well enough. Namir manages to catch a short stab of attention from the boy, mostly because his face looks funny. /Weirdo/.

If it's the sound of wheels that alert anyone to Daniel's presence, the sound of /jingling/ will alert anyone to Scottie's, coming from another path in front of Namir. Dressed in his 'work clothes', Scottie could easily be mistaken for any other punk in the City. Dressed in a long sleeved black t-shirt, tattoos hidden from sight, and extremely baggy black pants that are literally covered with looped chains - the source of the jingling is revealed - and a black, plain baseball cap sitting backwards on his head, the tattoo artist quirks a doubly pierced eyebrow as he notices the other two - or rather, their battle scars.Unfortunately, all Scottie has to offer are multiple facial piercings. Scottie loses.

As Daniel skates on by, Namir offers him a somewhat bemused glance, but it's not unusual to see skaters in the park. Nor is it unusual to see people like Scottie in New York, though he does get a bit of a curious glance as well. The Muslim pauses in the path to stare after Daniel. It's because of this staring that he happens to notice a small child rushing out into the skater's path, and thus he's able to issue a warning: "Look out!"

"Shit-" Well, yeah, that's the reaction. It would probably have been a lot louder had Daniel not almost immediately fallen backwards (onto his ass, no less) in order to avoid crashing into the child, who he hadn't so much as registered. Nope. He was too busy staring at Namir's weird face. Instead of a tiny kid with a lot of bruises, there's now a bigger kid with a sore bum sitting on the ground and moodily watching his skateboard roll randomly away, wheels turning as it obeys the uneven paving and heads for the shallow ditch beside the path.

Attention fully snapping towards Daniel at Namir's warning, Scottie lets out a small breath he had been holding as the younger kid - bit of a dumb one, really, being away from it's parents - isn't hurt. As for the other one, he can't tell. He's not a mind reader, after all. Eyes now on the escaping skateboard, Andy takes a broad step sideways, kicking it lightly back towards Daniel. "Lose something else along with your attention span?" He asks, gruffly, sounding amused at the same time.

Namir is at least a bit more concerned, though it's initially more for the little girl who has started crying at all the commotion she's caused rather than the boy who fell on his ass. He strides forward to lay a hand on her shoulder and make sure she's all right before her distraught mother rushes in to snatch her up. A brief exchange occurs between Namir and the woman before he turns his attention to Scottie and then Daniel. "Are you all right?" he asks of the latter, frowning slightly.

"My dignity and my sense of humor," is Daniel's somewhat snippy response to Scottie. Still, the tattooed and pierced stranger receives a grudging nod of thanks as the teenager kicks out with one leg to set it down atop the skateboard, stopping the minute vehicle in its tracks. He starts to get back to his feet a moment later, just in time for Namir to start worrying about the /real/ victim of the little encounter. "Fucking dandy, grandpa." Namir's obviously not that old, but as Daniel sees it: most guys are sensitive about their age. Sort of.

Being spoken to so harshly is something Namir is used to, and so it doesn't bother him in the slightest. He reaches out a hand to steady the lad as the boy starts to rise, but the Muslim's concerned frown remains. "You should be a little more careful," he intones, "and watch where you're going." Crowded places like Central Park, one is bound to come up on obstacles at some point.

Daniel tenses as Namir touches him, and immediately takes his frustration out on his skateboard. He stomps on the end and deftly catches the other side as it flips upward, holding it vertically suspended. "I should be careful? That brat's parents are obviously winning awards for child-rearing.'

Giving a snort that could either be of amusement or disgust, or perhaps a bit of both, Scottie shakes his head. "You ever tried watching a kid that little? Unless you got the kid on a damn leash, they're like trying to hold on to a greased up monkey. /Trust/ me." He drawls, hands stuffing into his pockets. "Besides, just because her parents weren't watching her, that means you shouldn't watch where the fuck /you're/ going?"

Before Namir can formulate a response, Scottie leaps in with the answer he was going to supply (albeit the punk's reply is a bit cruder than Namir's would have been). He releases Daniel's shoulder and remains silent for now, watching the situation carefully in case it escalates to violence. By now, the girl and her mother have disappeared into other parts of the park.

The teenager pulls dramatically away from Namir as soon as he's let go, attempting to make it very clear that he's not at all under Namir's jurisdiction. "Yeah, well. If Harvey Dent over here'd hide his face or something, maybe I wouldn't have been staring at it." Daniel hefts his skateboard and tucks it under his arm, though he's clutching at it strongly enough to convey a high degree of tension.

Ohhh, okay." Scottie answers, overacting his 'understanding'. "I'm /so/ sorry. You're right. Now, why don't you tell me the names of everyone who has a face that distracts you and I'll go put masks on all of them? That way, Your Majesty's delicate sensibilities won't be ~offended~." /sarcasm.

Hmmm, abrasive remarks on either end. It wouldn't do to walk away and have this explode into violence later, so Namir stays put. However, he also keeps his own counsel, watching both punk and skater carefully. Despite the amusement Scottie's comment brings him, the Muslim's face remains expressionless. He's not even ruffled by Daniel's comment.

At that, Daniel edges forward to stare up (a very long way up) at Scottie, his expression twisted into one of typical adolescent fury. His face is blotching with red, and his fingers tighten on the skateboard's edge. "Mask your own first, porcupine. Jeez, this city is some kind of freak show."

Scottie only grins down at Daniel, obviously amused, the trio of rings in his bottom lip glinting in the light. Surely, that's the reaction Daniel was going for. "And if you ain't learned that that's the best thing about this city yet, you got a long way to go, don'tcha?" He casually asks back. "I can't really stand normal people. They're so… boring."

Now things are starting to look ugly. Now it's time for Namir to step in. He moves forward to place a firm hand on Daniel's shoulder with the intent of pulling the younger (and smaller) man away. "All right, that's enough," he utters in a calm voice. "Just walk away. There's no need to make trouble here."

In this particular case, Daniel lets himself be pulled away. Scottie is quite a lot larger than he is, and any actual fight would end really, really badly for him. He fixes the tattooed man with a look of intense loathing, unfolding his arm and letting the skateboard drop back to the ground. "He started it."

Snorting again, this time definitely in amusement, Scottie crosses his arms over his chest, smile staying in place. Not bothering to reply to Daniel - for now - the tattoo artist grins over at Namir. "When people asks me why I don't want kids, I… I just don't know what to say."

"Mm-hmm, but you can be the big man and just walk away," Namir responds to Dan, smiling faintly. He gives the boy a light pat on the shoulder before stepping back again, glancing over his shoulder at Scottie. He can't help but grin a little and chuckle softly at the remark. Days like these, Namir wonders if /he/ even wants children someday.

And thus did the single-finger salute rise, swiftly and with great meaning and purpose, to hail Scottie. "Fuck you, jackass. You'll be doing the world a favor by keeping yourself out of the gene pool." With that Daniel steps onto his skateboard and drags it sideways, aiming its front back towards the path. "Dicks."

"Oh, /that/ reminds me why." Hands under his chin, Scottie looks whimsically up at the sky. "Cause kids are just /so/ /damn/ /precious/ and if one was ever that damn precious to me I'd probably smack it upside the head one too many times." He explains, words dripping more and more sarcasm as the sentence continues, until he's just dryly staring down at Daniel, hands again at his sides.

As Dan prepares to skate off into the unknown, Namir breathes a heavy sigh and shakes his head. Right now, Scottie's words ring rather true, but in light of this particular encounter, why wouldn't they? "One can only hope that /all/ children won't grow up to act like that," he utters to the taller man nearby, eyes still locked on Daniel form, "and if they do, one hopes that their parents will have the good sense to give them a smack." The last is spoken in a much lower voice meant only for Scottie's ears.

It's probably a good thing that Daniel has the attention span of a goldfish, because he doesn't bother to stick around long enough to even put himself at risk of hearing Namir's allusions to the promotion of child abuse. The teenager gives the ground a few good kicks and takes off, still holding his arm out behind him to continue the wonderful view of his middle finger. It'd be a shame to deprive Namir and Scottie of it, after all.

"Or at least know what the hell corporal punishment means." Scottie grumbles, sending a little unseen wave Daniel's way. Brat. "Can't stand that time out crap. Doesn't teach the kid anything, just gives him time to think about what he's going to do next."

Once again, Namir just shakes his head as he stares after Daniel and his one-fingered salute. "That would depend on the child, I suppose," he responds to Scottie. "They're not all devious little miscreants like that one— " he jerks his head toward the skating teenager. "Some of them actually don't need more than a scolding." Some. /Some/. After a moment's pause, the Muslim smirks a bit to himself and glances up at Scottie. "Thank you for your help in all that, sir. I hope the rest of your day is a little more brat-free."

"No thanks needed. I take every opportunity to be a smartass. Trust me." Scottie chuckles lowly. "If I could find a way to get paid to do it, I'd drop my shop right quick."

"If only making a living were that easy," Namir laughs, grinning briefly. Then, he turns and starts to head off, offering Scottie a friendly wave and smile. "I ought to be getting along home. Enjoy the rest of your day."

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