|Nothing Is Fine|
|Location||Seward Park Street Market|
|Summary||Raquel calls Sumit on his use of a certain racial slur.|
|Prompt||This line is long.|
| Seward Park boasts the nation's first public playground and New York's biggest permanent street market. The south side of the park is still given over to public space, where children can climb over play equipment while their parents watch from benches set beneath the shade of trees.
The northern end, once home to volleyball and basketball courts, has now been entirely taken over by the street market. Tables, blankets, and booths are set in a haphazard maze that is filled with a constant, claustrophobic crush of people. The vendors here sell everything from imported Chinese jewelry to fresh produce to low-end Eye technology. The market is a cacophony of sights and sounds and smells; the slightest change of the breeze can bring the sudden waft of fresh flowers or the pungent spice of street tacos, while vendors call to passersby to explain the irresistible bargain of their wares. Seward Park is a place where anyone can find anything - or at least find someone who can find anything.|
| It is a winter evening. The weather is cold and flurrying.|
Evening has come, and with it cold and snow flurries. Raquel stands at the back of a line of people who've all queued at a particular vendor of authentic Chinese soup. Today, she's wearing a heavy hoody she keeps tight around her body. A pair of jeans that cling tight to her form and a pair of Uggs style boots on her feet. She hops from foot to foot in an attempt to keep warm as she looks over the long line of people with a quiet sigh. "I can't believe this!" she exclaims, her accent clear and obvious through the crowd. "Rapido!" she calls out, "I've got work tonight!"
Sumit is still in no way used to the cold, but he does now possess enough warm clothes to take the worst of the edge off it. Hoodie, warm coat, hat puled down over his ears he's still got his hands deep in his pockets though as he threads his way through the crowds. By the way he's swinging his head back and forth he's either looking for something in particular, or thinks he's being followed and is terrible at hiding it. As he gets close to the line for the soup vendor though he grumbles as it blocks his way. "Fucking Chinks," he mutters, "always getting in the fucking way."
Raquel looks over her shoulder, making a face to Sumit. One might think she was Asian if they weren't in the know of what a native Brazilian looks like- particularly one with some native heritage like Raquel. She just looks at him and shakes her head, "What, are you racist?" she asks outright, turning to face Sumit fully.
Sumit pauses in his progress to turn back and study Raquel for a moment before shrugging once, "if you call hating the people who've been trying to kill me and destroy my country for the past few decades 'racist' then yes, I suppose I am." His answer is very matter of fact, more akin to what you might expect if asked to solve a moderately difficult maths puzzle perhaps. "Why?"
"You're talking about people here, though. People *here* in New York City- not the actions of a government over ten thousand miles away." Raquel notes, hands going to her hips. "So yeah, I call hating all people of a particular genetic bent due to the actions of some racism." she shakes her head, "There is no place for that kind of blind hate in a society that wants to move forward. That kind of division is just going to kill all of us!"
"I guess I'm a racist then," Sumit replies, although he doesn't seem particularly bothered, or put out by the idea, if anything he's perhaps just faintly amused. He's almost tempted to add 'kill us all, or kill all of them?', but his brain catches up with his mouth in time and he doesn't, offering instead, "everyone hates someone, or some thing. Trick is not acting on it. I leave them alone, they leave me alone, it works well enough." Although, if he was being 100% honest he'd admit that he's keeping his head down around Chinatown so they don't find out he's here. "I've no intention to kill them, not unless they force me to," he shrugs, "it'll be fine."
"I don't hate anyone." Raquel replies, "Otherwise, I'd be as bad as the people who hate me and people like me." she states next, shaking her head. "I mean, Jesus- look at how there's a ghetto in Manhattan- in *Manhattan*!" she exclaims a bit of anger sliding into her voice. "It'll be fine?! Nothing is fine right now. Its not okay what's happening in our world. We need to rise above it, man, otherwise things are going to just keep getting worse! But.. whatever." Raquel says, giving a sigh as she crosses her arms and takes a half step forward as the line moves a bit.
Sumit narrows his eyes faintly at Raquel, although it's more in consideration than anger as he tries to work out if he's inferring things correctly from what she just said. The immediate questions that spring to mind are not ones for a crowded street though so he affects disinterest instead. "Well, with an attitude like that, you're either going to change the world, or end up a bitter wreck." Or dead, but he's not saying that in a crowded street either. "Good luck kid, if it helps, I'm hoping for option A""Yeah, well, maybe I will. I'm not just going to stand here and let it happen." Raquel says, shaking her head. "Yeah, thanks." she continues as she just stares at her line that seems to refuse to move. "Ugh. I'm going to be late for work." she mumbles, "This just sucks. All I want is some soup, and this is how my day goes." Her complaining falls into Portuguese as she just talks to herself.