Posted: Sun May 17, 2020 5:25 am Post subject: Indrid/Lucita
Indrid was a New Yorker at heart.
The deafening silence of the Scottish countryside never suited Indrid. Going out at sea with his Father was worse, though if he were to abandon his human form and socialize underwater it would offer a different atmosphere than rural Scotland or that of a little boat. But still, nothing could beat New York, ever changing; busy and loud, shiny and bright. After the ‘big bang’ and after he turned eighteen, he gathered his savings and put down roots. He bought a little houseboat on the pier, a little more familiar to him than if he were to get an apartment in the city. The boat was perfect for him and easy to maintain since he was familiar with seafaring from working with his Father. He liked his neighbors, and he was right by Coney Island, which provided all the noise and smells and sights he was missing in Scotland.
“Good morning, Indrid!” One of his neighbors yelled out to him.
“G’mornin’!” Indrid would call back, his Scottish accent thick but understandable (mostly).
He was out on the deck, toting canvases out to dry in the sun. While he had a good deal of savings from working at sea with his Dad, his current profession was that of an artist. Most of his days were spent painting, the houseboat littered with canvases and various paints; at any given moment you could spit anywhere and it would land on a paint brush. The hardwood was covered in tarps and newspaper, there was really only a space for him to sleep which he preferred. For meals, he liked to eat on the docks with his feet dangling into the water, nodding along to the sounds of the rides and carnival music floating down from Coney Island.
Indrid sold a lot of his paintings online, but he liked selling his work at Coney Island. More than that, he loved to paint and sketch people he saw. His favorite person to paint as of late, was a beautiful girl who was rollerblade on the pier. She had long dark hair and fair skin, her eyes slightly upturned and catlike and round little chin he liked to imagine posed in the webbing on his hand between his thumb and index finger. She frequented the pier, almost always skating, sometimes accompanied by two other girls. He wondered if he would see her today?
After he finished carrying out freshly painting canvases to dry outside, he disappeared inside again to come out with a large bag to carry supplies and an easel tucked under his arm.
“Off to work?” His neighbor asked.
“[i]Aye[\i], it’s sunny, the lighting is good. It’s a good day to paint.” Indrid explained, jumping onto the dock.
“You paint everyday, Indrid.” The neighbor chuckled.
“There’s nothing better to do.” He called over his shoulder, laughing as well as he began the trek up above to Coney Island.
To most, it seemed like she was the kind of person who couldn't be bothered with anything, but the fact of the matter was that Lucita was more like the kind of person who didn't have to put too much effort into anything, so she really only had to "care", or was passionate, about a handful of things.
Like skating.
She had first learned to skate when she was young when her "Uncle JJ" (not really, but who keeps track of that, really?) would take her, Ava, and Manon ice skating at the rink her cousin practiced at. Like everything else, Lucita picked it up with an amazing sort of ease that even made Manon fight fussy little tears back then. Not wanting to ruffle her cousin's feathers, she decided to go home to ask her parents for a pair of street skates instead, which they were happy to provide. Her dad would take her down to the nearby park and she would skate for hours and hours on the smooth concrete of an outdoor basketball court. It wasn't a "real" sport for her, not something she wished to compete with anyhow, but it was her special sort of activity and hobby that she still loved to this day.
It was finals week at school, so all her days were short and limited to only one or two classes each morning. She had gotten out early and after walking with Manon and her new beau, Yoo In, to the station, she took her own train out towards Coney Island and the pier, one of her favorite places to skate that wasn't the neighborhood park. She was still in her uniform, a pleated little skirt, a pressed button-up blouse, and a tie, but she had rolled up the sleeves of the shirt and shoved her blazer into her backpack. Her mom would yell at her about that later, but she'd make it up to her by ironing it out herself and offering to take care of her little brother while she did it.
She was perched on a bench and had just finished loosening up her wheels to just how she liked them and was lacing them up. They were a newer pair of skates, a gift from Papa Navrik from the last time she and little Ru went out and stayed with him and Mama Havania (also not really her grandparents lmao). He had helped her build the skates from the ground up and she even made him write "With Love, Papa Navrik" on the back of the heel with a sharpie. She shoved her shoes into her bag on top of her blazer and zipped it up before shoving it under the bench so she could skate nearby where there wasn't a lot of foot traffic since it was relatively early in the day. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Indrid was in the process of setting up his easel when he heard the telltale sounds of wheels on wood. Looking up from what he was doing, he saw her, the beautiful girl on skates, here again today. He smiled softly as he admired her a moment before return to what he was doing. He had several completed paintings set up and leaning against the railing, lots of ocean scenery and boats, some of Coney Island and a few of his baby sister and pregnant step mother. He always wondered about the girl on skates, he wondered if she liked art perhaps?
Being that Lucita frequented the pier to skate, she was relatively familiar with the people who were also always there. There was the little old Latina lady who sold hot dogs with all the toppings you could ever dream of, the "trendy" young bohemian who played an elaborate plastic bin drum set, and then the painter who was there almost every time Lucita was.
And just as much as he admired her, she often admired him, though it would seem one of them was better at not getting caught.
She was skating on by when she caught him smiling to himself and watching her. She had never spoken to him before, but today seemed like maybe it was a good day to do so. She stopped abruptly only to start skating backwards.
"What's got you smiling, painter boy?" She asked as she did a few little rotations in front of his set up. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Even looking quite different from most people with his seal patterned skin, Indrid was quite confident and a notorious flirt. He continued to smile, looking up from what he was doing briefly to watch her skate around him.
"Oh, an accent? Didn't see that coming looking at you. What's it? Irish? Scottish? Something in that realm, am I right?" Lucita gave a charming little grin herself. She wasn't one who was easily swayed by any sort of flattery, but she certainly not put off by the man's sweet words. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
"Not at all." Lucita shrugged, a soft, cheeky grin on her face. "What brings you out here besides staring a girls on wheels?" _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
"Oh, well, I won't tell her that you were staring at me. For your sake." Lucita joked, skating over to the place where the man had set up some of his finished work. "Do you paint for a living or just as a hobby?" She asked. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
"Well, you aren't a boardwalk cartoon portraiture artist, that's for sure. I almost would have preferred if you were." Lucita teased, pausing at a picture of a little girl. "This one is nice though." _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“That one is of my sister.” Indrid smiled proudly, almost happiest that’s the painting she chose to commentate on. “She can’t sit still normally, so that one is one of a kind.” He explained.
"I get that. I have a little brother, too. He's just learned to crawl and is always on the move." Lucita smiled, always eager to gush about her baby brother. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
“Oh so you have a ‘little’ little brother. Cassie just turned seven.” Indrid replied with a smile, also always happy to gush about his younger sibling.
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