It's latish afternoon, though since it's summer there's still plenty of light out, so people are taking advantage of it. Washington Park is not exactly crowded, but there are plenty of people here doing various things. One of those things seems to be a pick up game of basketball being played at one of the slightly dilapidated courts in the area, and one of the players is Javi.
It's not a particularly serious game, and he also doesn't look like a particularly serious player (and he's also on the short side), but he's doing okay. He's currently got the ball, and one of the advantages of being extremely average height compared to the other people playing is that he seems to be able to avoid them pretty well. He dribbles down toward the basket and shoots, but it doesn't quite go in, bouncing off the rim. There are some groans and a little bit of friendly shittalking from one team or the other, but it's all lighthearted enough.
It //does// seems to have ended the game, though, and the group breaks up, starting off in their separate ways as Javi takes the ball and heads toward the basket to grab a hoodie that must be his and pull it over his head.
Don't be weird. Don't ambush strangers. This is the mantra Darwin has chanted to himself all day, as he moves through the populated districts on foot armed with a clipboard. There is day, and still people, and Javi is the first person Darwin intercepts near the courts. "Just a moment of your time," he calls, jogging over in coats too hot for the season. "I promise I'm not trying to sell anything. I just need your signature. You're a fan of the parks around here, right?"
Once his hoodie is on, Javi deposits the ball into a garbage can that seems to have been repurposed into a holder for some slightly beat-up but still in decent shape sports equipment -- a 'take a ball, leave a ball' sort of situation that seems to be being followed well enough that it isn't completely empty. That's right about when Darwin comes up to him. He turns around a little sharply, squinting at the man approaching. He's curious, yes, but there's a //bit// of a wary bottom note, too. "Uh...yeah," he replies after a moment. "I guess. I mean, I'm here, right?" He looks around briefly, then back to Darwin. However, his hands stay down. No jumping for a pen yet; he waits expectantly instead, presumably for the rest of the pitch.
"Great. Well-!" And then Darwin does his practiced pitch. Javi can glean that it's some kind of petition to urge the city to install more sprinklers in certain areas, obscure corners of parks that no one would likely notice. By the end of it, Darwin realizes it sounds trite at this point, so he rounds it out with some manners. "I'm Darwin. I didn't catch the whole game, but you play better than me." He tips his head towards the basketball bin.
Javi may not be a city planner. He's definitely listening, but the explanation of it doesn't seem to clarify a whole lot for him. Maybe it's the 'why,' more than the 'what,' but that would be pure speculation. He's distracted from whatever it is he thinks about it by the introduction, though. "Oh, yeah. Hey. Javi." He glances behind him at the basket, and he smiles, an expression that does a pretty good job of chasing any residual doubt away. "Thanks. Really not that great but I'm usually the last one standing when everyone else is tired as hell, so." He shrugs. It's a useful skill to have. "I can sign your thing, sure."
Good enough for Darwin! He passes over the pen and clipboard. A full day's work-- eight signatures. They look legit, at least. "Unnatural stamina?" he asks, conversationally. "Not me, I'm beat. I'm going to go home and lie facedown on my couch and pray for a midsummer snowday to cancel work tomorrow," he chatters, absently re-styling his hair. Then something prompts him to look over Javi more fully, head to toe.
"Pretty sure it's not unnatural," Javi replies as he takes the clipboard. "Just don't know when to quit, I guess." His eyes move over whatever there is to read on the clipboard -- not particularly quickly, it might be noted -- as what Darwin says next elicits a little snort. "Good luck with that, man," he remarks, but in a friendly way that might at least be somewhat in agreement.
However, before he can //actually// sign, he's getting looked over. His eyes lift again, and he squints up at the other man as his head tilts to one side. "What?" Then he's glancing down to check himself, too. He may not know why, but maybe he'll find out when he sees it.
Darwin's features twist and his gaze lifts, sheepish. He hesitates, clearly working out how to answer and struggling. The options are: perverted or just weird. He opts for weird. "Nothing. Thought I caught a whiff of something that reminded me of doctors. Was just seeing if you'd injured yourself," he says, works fraying into tense laughter like it's somehow funny. "Thanks for the luck," he says hurriedly. "Hey, if you wanna' know how it ends up, add your e-mail?" His eyes shine.
Yes, it's very weird. Javi doesn't even pretend like it it's not weird. His eyes widen as he looks back up, and now it's his turn to study Darwin a little more closely. And does he lean back slightly, //away//? Well, maybe. He's been kind of shifting around from foot to foot or moving subtly in some way or other throughout the whole conversation, like it's tough for him to stay still for very long. "Nah," he says, "I'm good." He dashes off his signature (no e-mail) and hands the clipboard back, but he does add after another second or two, "Taking a EMT class over at Northwestern Memorial. That's probably why."
He looks like he might take his leave now from this slightly weird man who's apparently smelling him -- but his hand stops when it's lifted halfway to wave goodbye, and it turns into a point instead. "Hang on," he continues. "I know you. You're that dude who did the Shakespeare in the Park thing last summer, right? With the high school kids?"
The precious e-mail, gone forever. Darwin winces faintly. "Ah, EMT. Makes sense." As Javi starts to wave, Darwin prepares to bolt, but then brightens upon the recognition. "Yes! Well. Mostly my students. They're the real stars." He perks. "Interested? I could use some extras. You don't have to memorize any lines," he promises, then adds, "It's paid." How many things can he rope Javi into in one conversation.
"Oh damn!" This, for whatever reason, makes Javi grin. Or not whatever reason, because he shares the reason a moment later. "Man, that was so good! The one with the fairies and shit, with that one guy..." His hand comes up to snap his fingers a couple of times by his head -- and then his eyes shift past Darwin for a moment to focus on a spot in the air. Maybe he's just trying to think of the title. It //could// be that. But it looks like he's actually looking at //something//, not just the obvious empty space in the air. It does help him come up with it, though. "Midsummer Night's Dream, right. That one. I liked that one." That grin shifts into an outright laugh at the suggestion, though. At least he's past being creeped out? "I mean, you really don't want me doing nothing like that," he continues with a shake of his head. "Not like I can't use the money but I'd fucking suck at it."
Praise? Genuine, unadulterated praise? Darwin steadies himself. Yeah, fairies and shit! As Javi stares into the empty space, Darwin pauses and glances over briefly. Huh. Then he shrugs. "I'm flattered you liked it. If you like fairy stuff, we're working on a production of centered around the legend of Tam Lin. Just think about it. If you change you're mind, you can find me out here on Saturdays, unless we decide to switch it up. Couldn't hurt to have an EMT on site, too." He tears off a page from his clipboard and scrawls his number, handing it over.
There is, indeed, nothing there. OR IS THERE?! Well, no. But Javi's not looking over there anymore, at least. He's too busy being amused at the idea of him being on a stage. And being delighted at meeting this person whose work he has apparently enjoyed. Darwin's slight weirdness is forgiven, in the name of Art.
"Cool," he replies, reaching to take the number and pulling out his wallet to put it carefully away, instead of just shoving it in the most convenient place to toss in the next trash can he sees once the other man is out of sight. "Maybe. Definitely gonna go see it, at least. I'm not done with the class, though," he cautions, "so you probably still gotta call nine-one-one if something happens." He puts his wallet away and sticks his hand out for a shake. Belatedly, but with a lot more enthusiasm than at their introduction. "Nice to meet you. I'll see you, yeah?"
Art! "Oh, yeah," Darwin laughs, a brassy sound. "Yeah that's probably... wise." He reaches to clasp the offered hand, giving it a single shake. There's clearly some measure of relief in his features as he draws away. "See you!"
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