coffee and bells

who: Zhen and Bright
where: Fontaine Park
when: Early morning

Sometimes, Bright didn't want to go back to sleep. It was rare enough that he could sleep, honestly, since passing out on top of his piano or on the floor by the liquor cabinet didn't really count as proper rest. He never made it to his bed half the time, not that it would keep the dreams from coming. If he thought it would, well... he'd just drink in his bed.

This one had been about the family again, but earlier. There hadn't been a boat yet, and there was no little girl with wispy blond hair. There was a hospital, different from the one he'd been in when he 'd been hit by the car, full of machines he couldn't even wonder at the purpose of. But there was the woman with the red hair, with her feet in stirrups, screaming and sweating, and doctors crowded around her like monsters with their faces masked and their whole bodies covered up. And there he had been, or the other-world man who looked like him. He'd felt the pain as the woman crushed his hand with her own, he'd felt wonder and terror. And when he finally saw them raise the infant, covered in blood and fluid, not moving, not screaming, he woke up and immediately vomited from the cold knot of terror that had formed in his stomach.

Or from the bottle of brandy he'd polished off before falling asleep.

But now he was awake. Better to stay that way than go back to bed and his stomach was still too unsettled to crack open another bottle--he knew, he'd tried. His dream still felt too big for the brownstone. He needed to get out, let it slip out into the open air, make himself focus on something else, something that was in this world, in this time.

The sun had come up by the time Bright left the house, though the sky still had that bluish quality exclusive to early morning. He pulled his wool trench coat tighter around him to stave off the January chill, one hand gripping the head of his cane, the other jammed in a coat pocket. His leg never stopped hurting in the winter, but it wasn't too bad. He could walk well enough. Maybe walk through the park, even. He went the long way around to enter it from its better side, hoping to avoid whatever hookers or muggers might be left over from the night.

It was nice. There was something idyllic and peaceful about all the green in the dawn, something that wiped his mind clean and replaced it with music notes and tunes. He wished he'd brought a notebook so he could write it down and remember it for later at the piano. Maybe he'd play something new at the Drake that night.

Good day or not, Bright still couldn't walk for that long, and we he found a bench, he claimed it, settling down with a heavy sigh. A shot of something might be nice, take the edge of the ache. But when he thought about alcohol, he thought about the brownstone, thought about the dream. He shook his head violently to clear it, pulled his fedora down further over his brow, and hummed the tune he was composing in his mind, humming a little too loudly in order to drown out anything else. Hopefully.

Zhen was out and about. Technically, she had been since the crack of dawn, when she recognized that today seemed to be a nice day, weirdly enough. It had been ages since there had been a truly nice day outside, so it set the tone for things early. For instance, she went for bright, vibrant colors today in her manner of dress, long flowing, breezy skirts and scarves tied around her waist. She had bells on, too. Much like a belly dancer, she had them around her waist, her wrists, her ankles...she was a sight. Possibly a very odd sight, but a sight none the less. She'd even pinned her hair with colorful feathers and the like, just to add that last bit of flair.

Then it was off to the park, of course, to see what she could see. Or who she could see, more correctly. Zhen was a people person, after all. So, when she spotted a lone man on a bench, she walked over, walking behind the bench itself, and she leaned on the back of it to peer at the man from the side. "Make a wish." she greeted, instead of doing anything silly like say hello or introduce herself.

"Godda--" Bright's teeth clamped down on his lower lip, cutting the startled curse off before it could leave his mouth. Heart pounding, he turned and saw... feathers. Feathers and hair and scarves. The woman was a smudge of color in the otherwise limited palette of the morning. Bright felt like he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming again, if his dreams were less traumatic and more whimsical.

Once he'd gotten over the initial surprise (and after his heartbeat had slowed to a more normal pace), he was able to process what she'd said. Make a wish? He wished for the dreams to stop. He wished for Anna Foster's murderer to be found and brought to justice. He wished for a drink. He wished to stop needing drinks.

"A pen and paper," Bright said after a long, thoughtful pause. He looked at the woman again and gave her a small smile. "So I can write down this tune I'm thinking of."

"Ooh, you've got a tune in your head?" she asked, looking genuinely excited. "What's it go like? And paper and a pen. I can do that!" she declared. "Would you like to come with me, or should I go get it and come back?" she asked him, head canting to the side as she regarded him. That was an easy wish to fulfill. And Zhen was a girl who liked granting wishes when she could, so this one she was all about. Plus, she really loved music, so if it was in the interest of there being more music in the world? She was all for it. Enthusiastically, even.

Bright gaped at her. He'd thought that her comment had been purely hypothetical, just like the fact that no one had given him any pennies when they offered one for his thoughts. He waved a hand dismissively--he shouldn't have expected anything less than strange behavior from someone dressed in feathers and bells this early in the morning. "It's all right, I don't need one. I can remember it enough. It'll go like this."

Bright was a performer and wasn't shy about humming the song he'd been working out. As he hummed, his fingers twitched against his lap, playing the notes.

She watched him miming out the piano keys, and listened as he hummed. It was with a smile as she propped her chin on her hand, leaning on the back of the bench still. "You play the piano, yes?" she asked. "And I like it, personally. I definitely think it needs to be written down somewhere, so it isn't lost. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" she asked, reaching out to pat his head a little. "So I'm definitely going to get some paper. It's a mission now, you see. I must. Plus, I asked you to make a wish and you did. I can't exactly bow out, just because you've opted to allow it, can I?" she asked, as if the obvious answer were 'no of course not!'. "NO one would ever learn anything if they didn't get what they wanted! Therefore, I'm just going to have to get that paper. And a pen. Possibly several pens, and several sheets of paper, because it really wouldn't do for you to run out of space or ink! That'd be just terrible and I won't have it." she said decidedly, standing straight with a little flourish of tinkling bells. "Would you like to accompany me? If not, if you promise to stay right here, I can be back in a jiffy!"

Oh. Of course. She was completely batty. Now it all made sense.

"Look, it's all right," Bright insisted. "I don't live too far. I can just go home and write it out myself." He took hold of his cane and pushed himself to his feet with a low grunt. If he'd known she was crazy, he wouldn't have humored her. "See?"

Even if he did walk back to his brownstone (the last place he wanted to be right now--hadn't he gone to the park to escape it?), she was going to follow him there, wasn't she? He had a feeling.

Zhen stood back and watched him as he got to his feet, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded him critically. "Looks to me like you've got a bit of a limp there. Some old injury, I'm guessing?" she asked, though she didn't wait for an answer. "Which means it's still more convenient to go get you what you need as opposed to you going to get it yourself. Unless you're just trying to ditch me." she noted, not that she sounded offended. "However if you are, then there are easier ways to do it. Such as sending me off to fetch paper then leaving while I'm gone. Or possibly telling me that you don't wish company right now, and could I please leave. There's that as well." She said, offering him up excuses.

That was... unexpected. Bright shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his trench coat, switching his cane from one hand to the other and then back again.

"Leaving you would be rude," he said, giving himself a moment to recover from her bluntness. "And don't not want any company, I just don't want you running off to fetch something for a stranger. I don't need it, not really." He tapped at his temple with his free hand. "I can remember the song just fine."

"I like fetching things for strangers." Zhen said. "In total honesty, I like doing things for people in general. It's in order to combat the fact that the vast majority of this city is the type to kick someone as soon as look at them, and I like to even the odds when I'm able." she told him. "And there's nothing wrong with spreading a little kindness here and there, or making life just that tiny bit easier for someone, just for a moment. To give them what they want in a moment. It could make all the difference. Lives are dictated by the small things, sir. Tiny fragments, all strung together by some cord we can't see or follow. What happens in those fragments is important. Whether it's a moment of levity, frustration, love, horror, otherwise. The list goes on. Maybe you don't really need a paper and pen. Maybe you can remember your song just fine. Maybe you don't write it down, and forget some of it later. Maybe you do write it down, and lose a page, and inspire someone else to find out what those notes sound like when played. Some fragment of you crashes into someone else's life, and courses change--or they could. It's possible. Maybe you don't need anything right now. That doesn't mean you shouldn't have it."

Bright was quiet in the few moments following the woman's speech. "You are crazy," he said, though he'd cracked a small smile to go along with it. Evening the odds? Spreading a little kindness to go against the rest of the city? It was a nice idea, but Bright had seen too much to be anything but cynical. But who was he to crush her optimism? If she thought helping a stranger remember a song would be a kick in the teeth to some mobster somewhere else in the city, well... Bright was no fan of mobsters anyway.

"Come on, then. If you're getting me a pen, I'll get you a coffee. We'll call it my good deed for the day so you can still grant your wish." Crashing into someone else's life, indeed.

"Most people think so. I prefer to think of myself as an agent of chaos." Zhen told him, smiling. "And that sounds lovely." she added, stepping closer. "Where are we going?" she asked, figuring if he wanted to buy coffee, then he could choose where. She didn't know what sort of money he had or didn't have for that matter. "Also, what's your name, sir?" she asked. "Unless you prefer that I keep calling you sir." And she would, she was a respectful sort. Or maybe she'd just make up a name for him. She'd done that before too.

"Agent of chaos?" Bright snorted, not derisively as much as simply amused. He shook his head and began to walk, much more slowly than she would have managed on her own. If she didn't like it, well, maybe she shouldn't have decided to make nice with a cripple. But he was getting ahead of himself. She was a nice kid so far, if a little nuts.

"There's a diner not too far," he told her, already heading in that direction. "Call me Bright. What about you, Feathers?"

Zhen didn't seem bothered about the pace whatsoever. She kept at his side, walking along leisurely. "Bright. That's interesting. Do you try to live up to the name?" she asked. "And my name is Zhen." she told him. "Which many people tell me is ironic, but I believe they're just misusing the word." she continued. "What do you do beyond playing the piano and writing music?" she asked.

"Bright? No." Bright chuckled; as he walked, the tap of his cane preceded his steps, making an odd rhythm. "It's just a name. My father was William and Billy was too childish, and I'd never liked my middle name either. It's always been just... Bright."

He looked over at her--Zhen, now that he knew her name. "Zen, like that Japanese thing? Something about peacefulness. Can't say I know much about that."

He adjusted the brim of his fedora with his free hand, frowning. Did she really want to know what else he did? "Eat and sleep," he said, not lying so much as omitting the unnecessary details. "Do you do anything besides wander around at odd hours and bother strangers?"

"Something like that. It's a concept that's more widespread than that." Zhen told him. "And I'm Chinese, technically." she added. "But it's peace, enlightenment, meditation. It encompasses a whole lot, really, it's interesting, you should look it up. Might be fun for you." she suggested. "Plus, it grants peace, if you can really get into it and understand, reach that enlightenment. Or less it grants it, and more you achieve it."

Watching him out of the corner of her eye as he said 'eat and sleep', she didn't look like she didn't believe him, even if she imagined he was leaving a whole lot out. If for no other reason than he was a musician of some description, and most creative minds were a little more dynamic than that, in at least some sense. Of course some of them tended to be more dynamic with wild fits of depression, but that wasn't the point. "I do a lot of things." she told him at his question. "Only some of it is accosting strangers."

"Sounds a bit beyond me, honestly." Peace and enlightenment? Bright couldn't even get a decent night's sleep, so mediation was out of the question. With all that was going on in head, conscious and unconscious, he was amazed he even woke up half the time. Nice idea, though. Maybe he'd compose a song about it. Maybe he'd just title this one "Zen" and call it his enlightenment. Close enough. About as close as he was going to get anyway.

He peered down at her when she answered him, smirking. "Fair enough." He certainly hadn't told her everything he did--why should she?

"What happened to your leg?" she asked. "I know some people might consider it rude to ask, but I find it rude not to show interest, and I am interested. If you wish not to talk about it, that's fine, but I won't pretend I hadn't noticed." she said, looking at his cane. "Also, I like your cane." she said. "Does it have a sword in it?" she asked. Like that was a reasonable thing to assume...

"I was hit by a car," Bright said, because it was the truth. There was no reason to share a story that was, at the end of the day, speculation. He paused to examine his cane, tugging a bit at the head of it. "No sword," he said, walking again. "That's a good idea, though. Then I'd actually be able to keep from getting mugged." Bright had considered moving to a better part of town, even as close as the other side of Fontaine Park, but his pianos (the only possessions he had worth a damn) were too precious to move. Besides, he always had more money.

"What happened when you were hit by a car?" she asked. "And do you get mugged often?" If he didn't have a sword in his cane, she wondered if maybe she should find one that did have that. She was sure she could, somewhere. Possibly in Chinatown, and it could possibly have a dragon on the top. Or something, anyhow. She wasn't sure a dragon would fit his personality, but then, maybe if he had one it would alter his way of thinking. Since he actually didn't sound all that annoyed about being mugged or the like, and generally people got fairly upset over such things.

"Not afraid of asking questions, are you?" Bright asked, though he didn't seem particularly bothered by Zhen's nosiness. "I got hurt, that's what happened. There was an infection and my leg didn't heal properly." He shrugged and dusted a speck of something off of the shoulder of his coat. "I probably get mugged more than someone who doesn't look like an easy target, but a man has to come home at some time."

"I actually find there's little point to fear in general." Zhen said. "Unless it's for something truly deserving, like watching a train heading straight for you or staring down the barrel of a gun when it's being held by someone who doesn't especially like you. But fear of questions?" She shook her head. "That's just silly. The trick is never to ask a question you don't want the answer to. Then all you've got is room to gain." Then she looked down at his leg as they walked. "There's no fix for it?" she asked. "And why don't you move to a better neighborhood? You sort of look like you can afford it. I could help you, if you wanted!"

Bright did nothing but blink at Zhen for a moment, a grin breaking through once the moment had passed. "You're full of all sorts of life philosophies. I don't know how they all can survive around here, but I'm glad they do." Bright was glad that he hadn't ditched her after all. She was a character and at worst, she was definitely taking his mind off of his own problems.

"That's what they say," he said, tapping his bum leg. "It's been a decade now, anyway. Whatever damage was done is here to stay. And I've considered moving, but... I'm settled here. And it's not so bad."

"I am! But then honestly? I think most people are, they just don't share their perspectives." Zhen said, not viewing herself as overly special, just vocal. "I also figure that there's absolutely nothing wrong with giving an alternative perspective on things. You'd be surprised how many people think they're 'right'. It's amazing! They think they've got it all figured out when all they know is their one little bitty section of the world, and that's it. Ridiculous, I say." she said. "If you're happy where you are, then that's one thing. But if you're just 'settled' then there's room to improve." she said. "So, are you happy?"

Zhen's question took him by surprise. He said, "Sure, I am," but there was too long of a pause between her question and his answer to keep it from being suspicious. He cleared his throat, inclining his head towards the corner of the street. "Diner is just up the block, here."

"Alright, Bright, no offense, but if you're going to go lying to people you've got to be more convincing, sweetheart." she told him, patting his arm. She followed along fine, though, figuring he'd lead her to the diner and that'd be all fine on it's own so she didn't need to put effort into looking where she was going. If he wasn't leading her to a diner, and instead to someplace sinister, she'd deal with it when they got there. In her opinion, this other thing was much more important. "So, from what you just said, you want people to think you're happy, but you're not, so much." she concluded. "What's stopping you from being happy?"

Bright frowned, cutting deep lines on either side of his mouth. "That's all a bit much to go telling an acquaintance." He wasn't leading her to anywhere sinister (not that he'd really be able to do much of anything if he was), as evidenced by the outdoor diner decor they began to approach. There were a few diners and a sleepy looking waitress inside, by what they could see from the windows. "I'll still treat you to a cup of coffee," Bright said, pausing in front of the diner's door, "but I'm not looking for an intervention."

"Few people are." Zhen said, not seeming offended that he was reticent to tell her. "That doesn't mean they aren't necessary. Technically, if you were looking for an intervention, you wouldn't need one." she added, smiling at him sweetly. "Also, you could always think of it as the opportunity to get something off of your chest without having long lasting repercussions of having told someone you're close to, so you'd have to face up to the idea that they know, and you'd have to deal with it all the time." she added. "It's like a free chance to tell the truth without having to face up to consequences."

"It's not the consequences I'm worried about," Bright said. He held the door open for one of the early patrons that was leaving, then continued to hold it open for Zhen. "In any case, I won't think of it as anything, since I'm still won't speak on it." He smiled at her, though it was somewhat clipped.

She stepped inside. "Alright." she said. "Just don't say no one was ever interested in you, your life, or your happiness." she told him. But then she knew especially in this city, a whole lot of people could say that. Possibly him, though she couldn't be sure. That didn't mean she wouldn't be checking up on things later, and possibly orchestrating some events in his life, to see if it did anything with the situation. Like she planned to with Janey. That woman definitely needed something in her life to change. And since she seemed wholly unwilling to do it, Zhen felt it was up to her to do it for her.

"Well, I certainly can't now," Bright said, allowing a lighter tone to enter his voice. He was glad that Zhen was content to drop the issue, though he was wholly ignorant to any greater schemes she might be coming up with.

"Just two coffees, thank you," Bright told the waitress, taking a seat the diner's bar and setting his fedora down. "Enough about me. I don't think I know anything about you yet."

Zhen sat down, letting her feet swing a little. She was pretty short, all things considered. "Thank you for the coffee." she told him, smiling at him for it. "And you haven't really asked. What do you want to know?" she asked, figuring she'd offer up anything he wanted to know, if he really wanted to know it. though she did know that a lot of people as a matter of course didn't ask. Much like she'd mentioned about people probably avoiding asking him about his injury. For some reason people hid behind some idea of 'propriety' and it was silly. Or, at least, in Zhen's opinion it was silly.

Bright had expected her to give him his own answer and was somewhat surprised when she was open to questioning. He nodded, acknowledging her thank-you, and said, "Well, what are you doing granting wishes to strangers this early in the morning? And why bells?" The damn things had been sounding off the whole way to the diner. Now he couldn't imagine the composition without incorporating them somehow.

She laughed a little. "It's just something I do now and then." she said truthfully. "Sometimes, I'm in a very giving mood. And I like to share that. So when I am, I find someone and ask them to make a wish. Some people don't react very well." she said. "Others really appreciate it, especially if I can deliver. I try my best to do so." Even if sometimes it wound up being something they hadn't really wanted to start with. Still, that was part of it all. "And I like bells. Today was beautiful, and bright, and shiny and I dressed accordingly."

"So what do you do between the nows and thens?" Bright didn't add anything to his coffee when the waitress filled their mugs. He held his in both hands before taking a sip. He was half-suspicious that she wasn't even real, then disappointed that the world made it hard to believe that someone could seem so optimistic and eager to do small favors.

Zhen dumped sugar into her coffee, and added cream as well. "I have a few jobs here and there." she said. "I volunteer at the soup kitchen, I work the file room at the police station, I work at Nighthawk's Diner sometimes, I do odds and ends at the fire station." she told him, rattling it all off. "Other than that, I take an interest in people. My fellow human beings are my true passion in life."

Bright chuckled when she rattled off her list of jobs. Here he was expecting her to say she lived in a bottle on her off days and she did plenty of perfectly ordinary work. Hell, she was a much better citizen than he was. "Your true passion, huh? And how does that work?" Passionate about humanity? Bright couldn't bring himself to have much faith in it, period.

She smirked faintly, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye. "How would it not work?" she asked. "You're a musician. You put passion into music. I put passion into people. I like meeting new ones, and doing what I can to make their lives better, if I can help it." Of course, Zhen's definition of making a life better didn't always match up with everyone else's. After all, most people would consider making everyone happy making someone's life better. To Zhen, happy was only one state of being. But in Bright's case, he seemed to have experienced lows, certainly, particularly with the accident and all, and wasn't currently happy, so she could work on that aspect of it. "I also like inspiring people. Every so often, I'll give people a task."

"Hmm." Bright considered that for a moment. What if people were like pianos? But that particularly analogy didn't get him very far because people weren't like pianos, not even slightly, and not just because of the obvious reasons. "You give out tasks?" Bright echoed, twisting slightly on his stool to regard Zhen with a smirk. "Like what?"

Propping her chin on her hand, she shrugged her other shoulder. "It depends on the person." she said. "The last task I gave out was to bring light to someone's life. What that was was up to their individual interpretation, as was who they'd do that with, or when. There are a lot of people adrift in life. Sometimes it helps to have a purpose, even if it's a sort of odd one." she told him.

Adrift in life, a purpose. Huh. Odd how all of that rang true with Bright. Not that he was going to mention it or sate a niggling little curiosity over what task Zhen might assign him. He didn't want one--he had enough of his own tasks to deal with. "So, do you check up on them?" Bright asked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "To make sure that they've done it? Or do you just have faith that they have?"

"I don't seek out to see if they've done it, however if I cross their paths again, I'll ask. Though honestly, the ones who have done it? They're eager to tell me, I don't have to ask." she told him. "They always feel good about it, too. Like they've accomplished something--and they have. Sometimes it isn't the big things in life. Like I was saying earlier--fragments." she told him. "Society will tell you it's all about money, or a car, or having the picture perfect life, but those things don't actually work for everyone." she continued. "Some people don't want to get married and have children. That would not be a happy life for them. Other people do. Some people want glamour and bright lights, a spotlight on them. Other people would pretty much hate the spotlight if it ever hit them. Nothing is really all that universal. All of it is subjective. It's part of why I never understood people trying to fit some imaginary mold a magazine tells them they're supposed to aspire to."

"Sounds so simple when you say it like that," Bright said, smiling wryly. "It's too bad most people don't see it that way. Maybe then we'd all be a lot happier." He looked over his shoulder, out through the diner's front windows. The sun was fully up now, the bluish hint of dawn gone in favor of a bright, yellow morning. There was a little more bustle on the sidewalk now too, people on their way to work or getting off of graveyard shifts. He turned back to Zhen. "I guess you're doing a hell of a thing, then. We'd be better off thinking like you, especially in this town."

"You could always start thinking that way too." Zhen said. "And it is simple. Or, life can be as simple as you want it to be. It's just a matter of getting your perspective to shift from what you've probably spent a whole lifetime being told is the 'right' way to go." she said, shrugging one shoulder. "But everyone can have a life that's as simple as they want it to be. Like sitting down and looking at your life and deciding what to you is really important. Then you scrap everything else and start over. It's pretty cathartic, if you can actually manage it, though I know most people find it hard."

Bright laughed, lifting a freshly refilled cup of coffee. "Zhen, I play piano for a living. I think that's about as simple as you can get." Starting over would be a pretty simple affair for Bright, since he had so few material possessions he really cared about. "Scrapping it all, though? Try telling that to the bourgeoisie uptown."

"Is that what you want to be doing?" she asked. "And telling that to...who?" she asked, not quite understanding. "If you point me in the right direction, I'd be happy to tell them you're ditching, and they should not bother you any further." she said, totally honestly.

"Yeah," Bright said, this time without a moment of hesitation. "I've been playing piano all my life. I don't think I'd be doing anything else, even if my life had turned out differently." He laughed when she didn't seem to understand him. "The bourgeoisie. You know, the disgustingly wealthy. Old money, the nouveau riche. They'll be first in line to give up their swimming pools of cash." Not that Bright himself wasn't old money, but pulling funds from his family made him feel guilty when he'd distanced himself from them, so he tried his best to live on his own earnings.

"AAAahh." Zhen said, understanding. "And I try, occasionally. Then I get escorted off the property." she continued with a shrug. "And if you like playing the piano, and it's what you want to do, then that doesn't need scrapping. It's just anything that's going on that you're not okay with. Or changing where you live, or changing where you play. But again, that's all only if that's what you wanted to do. Most people, weirdly enough, even if they're miserable will stay exactly where they are and not lift a finger to change their own situation."

"It's not so weird," Bright said, shrugging. "It's easier to go along with the current than to fight against it, especially if you're all tuckered out from trying." He shook his head, sliding a fingertip in the ring of spilt coffee on his saucer. "It can only be so bad if you've gotten used to it, right?"

"Who said anything about fighting against it?" Zhen asked. "That's not what I'm talking about. And changing one's situation is a lot easier than people think. And it's purely illusion that it's easier. What's easy about hating your life and everything in it? That's what's exhausting. Freeing yourself from that, that just will give you energy to do more, not get listless so you don't do or enjoy anything anymore. Depression sets in, and then things are even worse." She paused before addressing the last point. "I don't believe that, no. I think it's so bad because you've reached a point where you aren't used to it anymore. If you were used to it, it wouldn't be bad, it'd be the way it is. But if it's negatively impacting, then you've sort of gone through passive to something else. Then you're just drowning."

Bright took a long sip of his coffee, regarding Zhen after she'd finished speaking. "I just don't know if it's that simple," he said, shaking his head. "It should be, sure, but it's not. It's scary, starting over. If you've been doing one thing, feeling one way, your own life, how do you do something else?" Bright had been lucky in that respect. He'd had a skill that he could keep using. The accident had ruined his leg, not his hands. But there were plenty of people that weren't in the same boat, if they were in boats at all. "I like your optimism, but it doesn't apply as easily everywhere."

"What's there to be scared of?" she asked, turning the question back to him. She drank her coffee, and settled her full attention on him, wanting him to elaborate on his observations.

"The unknown," Bright said, shrugging. "If you're stuck in a loop, you're always going to know what comes next, right? There's... comfort in that, I guess. Even if things are bad, at least you have the certainty that they'll probably be just as bad tomorrow." He chuckled and turned away from Zhen slightly, shaking his head. "That's my best guess, anyway."

"So the possibility of things being good, yet unknown is less attractive than the same old bad bullshit piled up in one's life?" she asked him. "doesn't seem like sound logic to me." She shook her head. "Sounds to me like it's ridiculous. Absolutely insane. People all me crazy but that is intensely insane." she decided. "Or lazy. Or stupid. Comfort in things being bad tomorrow doesn't make any sense. Plus, the unknown can be exciting. Are people really that scared that they can't even come at something with the slightest bit of a sense of adventure anymore? Or even if it isn't adventure, then for the slightest bit of a damn to better their own situation?"

Bright looked at Zhen with a wry smile. "That's humanity for you."

"Humanity needs a change." Zhen said. "Or a good kick in the pants." She said, shrugging, like it was either or, and it didn't much matter which, in the end. She finished off her coffee, however. Then she slid down off of her stool, with a little tinkle of bells. "I suppose I should be on my way." she told him. "Where is it you play?" she asked, stretching her arms behind her head.

"I can't think of anyone better to give it one." Bright dug a few bills out of wallet and set them underneath his saucer. "I play all over," he said, standing up and putting his fedora back on, "but I should be at the Drake tonight." He smirked. "Maybe you can swing by with that pen and paper you promised me."

"That was the idea." Zhen said, smiling. Then she pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek, turning to head out of the diner without another word.