*Well it was hot enough to not need a coat, despite his having had dire warning that Winter was coming. He'd woken up finally and sorted himself out, he was now tidy, clean, well apart from the scruffy combat boots he wore on habit and the old and battered SkidRow T'shirt he wore. His hair had even been just about tamed, well, tamed enough to tie it back off his face at the nape of his neck. Shades, those oakleys he wore, along with a suit jacket that had it's sleeve rolled up past his elbows... And he was outside a tattooist having smoke by the looks of it. One hand held that, the other held a frappicino of some sort from Starbucks.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
When you have a fondness for ink, one of the primary goals that you have when entering a new city, is to discover the parlor you'd like to be visiting. There's an art to locating that particular place with good people, great art, and an atmosphere that encourages attendance. At least, for Tarrin it's important to get just the right place.
He had pulled his strip of hair into a ponytail to keep it out of his face, the tail of it laying long along the space between his shoulder blades. And as he was stepping out of the parlor, he was pulling a dark button up back on, over the white tank underneath. Just a consult this time around, and a conversation about what he'd like to have; he'll see if they can do what they say they can.
Maybe he didn't see Danny yet, as he stepped to the side and ruffled through the pocket of his jeans to pull out the container of cigarettes and slide on out.
Danny
*Danny was amused by the flash in the window and shook his head. Then tilted it when he saw the man come out, calling over to him.* What's it like? They any good? *he took a pull on the cigarette then crushed it after dropping it without a damn.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
He paused, cigarette in his mouth, Zzippo on its way to the tip of it. His head lifted and Tarrin pulled the cigarette from his lips, looking at Danny. He's silent, almost as if he has to remember who Danny is. "I like their style. The photos show good work. I think it'll depend on what you're looking for."
Danny
*He nodded.* Yeah... Well it's permanent, so.. *he shrugged and stepped back to look up at the sign.* Skin... *He frowned, a little and took a suck on the drink before he looked at Tarrin again.* Uh... Tarrin, from last night? I think I was about four shots in...
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Doesn't hurt to take a risk." Finally pushing the end of the cigarette between his lips, letting the zippo light it up. With a slow inhale, he lifted his chin, expelling the long stream of smoke from his lips.
"Just four shots. Seemed further than that." Tarrin turned so he was facing Danny and staying out of the way of the door, should someone decide to wander in. "No hangover?"
Danny
Nah I'm good. *he laughed it off.* Well, that was four shots of Tequila, on top of some concoction Kalen had got me and what I'd been drinking before that... kind of rounded off my night. I don't get hung over... Well, not yet.. *he grins.* A couple of anti inflams, a few pints of water... Besides, I wasn't exactly steaming was I? Just unsafe to drive. *he shrugged a bit then took another pull on the straw, the drink was nearly half full.*
I've been to three parlours today already... Just none of them seem to have what I want in an artist... I'll take a look online at their work, see how full they are. It's not like going to Venice Beach for ink. Jersey's too far away to get him out to work on me. *he sighed.* But... on the other hand... I need to get inked.
Tarrin Rasvelg
He could tell him to watch his liquor, maybe figure out some way to get home safely without having to fully sober up, but Tarrin isn't pushy or preachy. Danny's fine. He made home alright. Must know enough to get by. "Maybe." Tarrin took in a draw of his cigarette, letting the smoke slide out through his nostrils.
"What are you looking for exactly?"
Danny
Well.. *he reached his empty hand up to rub the side of his neck and frowned.* Okay.. I got this... You wanna see? *he reached into his jacket pocket as he spoke, then drew out a large bit of A4 paper.* A friend of mine did it, and I want it on my back.
Tarrin Rasvelg
Tarrin took it slowly, looking over the image as he took in another bit of cigarette smoke. Silent judgement perhaps? He's looking it over, trying to decide how much of it he likes and how much he doesn't, even though it has nothing to do with his own preferences.
"They can probably do it. Complicated but not too complicated." He handed it back, letting the hand with the cigarette fall to his side momentarily. "Insulting, to have someone else do the work they didn't design."
Danny
Yeah... which is why I'm taking it in with me to consult with them first. Like I did with the other studios, if they can't improve it... then well.. *he shrugs.* See. this part isn't long enough. *he shows the parts he's talking bout.* I want this to end here instead of here. You know when you've got this concept, this image in your head and someone sort of designs their version of it.. and it's good an all.... I like it... but... *he shrugs again.* On the other hand... *he frowns at the door.* I am seriously in need of an ink fix. *he sighed taking the paper.* it's in my head an' I can't draw fer shit.
Tarrin Rasvelg
"No one will ever make what you see in your head. If you want something to look the way you see it, you'll need to draw it yourself. Otherwise, it'll always be a poor imitation of your own dream."
"Not for me to tell you what to do.." Tarrin says as he takes a long, final draw on the cigarette, letting the smoke drift from his lips and nostrils. The butt is dropped to the ground where he snubs it out with his toe. "Just advice. Take it or leave it. Don't settle. If no one can meet what you see, then learn to do it yourself."
Danny
*He sighed again at that and shook his head.* That fucking blows... Seriously.. Last time I tried to draw something it was... awful... I mean, here's what I see, I see greys, light blue shading, I see silvers, I see the texture in it, it need that extra sense of three dee to it and a bronze wash on it. Just to bring it out a bit more. Make sense? I like symmetry as well. It's got to have some kind of tribal shape to it. Sharp points and flashes of tension, almost alien to it?
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Takes time. No one is born able to draw. You build it. Like any skill. The only limits are the ones you put on yourself." He gives Danny a slow nod of his chin. "Then see if they can do it. See if they can meet up with your ideal. I could be wrong."
Those blue eyes shifted to the coffee drink Danny had, then back up to his face. "I've missed breakfast. I'm going to grab something to eat. Hope the tattoo works out."
Danny
*He sighed heavily, there it was, the need, that hunger that just said, go on,take my money and wash me with ink til I can't take anymore... Then there was also the whole company thing. And the fight was right there on Danny's face clear as day. He pulled out his phone and took a photo of the front of the shop then shook his head. Slipping the paper away again.* You're helping, but you're really not helping at the same time. Tell you what.. I'll shout you breakfast, you figure out if you can do better with the drawing. Deal? *he waited.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
Tarrin stuffed his hands into his pockets, lifting a brow slowly at Danny. "In the end, it's your decision. I can't make that for you." He rolled her shoulder in a slight shrug, the joining of Danny being an unimportant event. He didn't mind company, particularly in a new place.
So he began to move, walking along to find a place that looked reasonably good. "What makes you think I can do anything with it?"
Danny
Well.. *he shrugged, keeping pace with him. His feet didn't shuffle, he walked well actually and his lifted his feet up as he did so. Then nodded up ahead as they walked down past the trams, there were small tree's along the wide pavement, with lights strung in the branches, no doubt making ready for the end of the month and the beginning of the run up to christmas after thanks giving and halloween. Then nodded towards a crepe house, a bit further along was a steak house.* You for a start seem to know about it, you've just come out of their yourself so you know what they've got on display.
Tarrin Rasvelg
"I don't know what you want. I know what you said you want, but I can't see it. The only one who knows if they can do what you want, is you." He walks slowly, casually, along the walkway. He's in no rush to get anywhere, not today.
At least the kid next to him didn't drag his feet like a zombie, or stare at his phone. As for the creep of decorations in the world? You couldn't stop that from happening. Every year, Christmas season became longer and longer. It had overtaken Thanksgiving, and now it was trying to take over Halloween. Tarrin hadn't decided where he wanted to eat yet. Crepe house? Eh..maybe. Steak? Too early maybe. Or he wasn't in the mood for it.
Danny
*He pursed his lips.* Fine.. *that was that then, you can't push people to do things they don't want to do. One of the rules in the code. Instead he glanced back at the tattooist studio, he was going to phone them later and speak to someone, see if he could get them to see what he saw. Perhaps look over some flash and see if there was anything he could do.* So what do you fancy? Coffee? *he took another long slurp of what was left of the starbucks. The other hand going into his pocket to stop it from twitching again at the thought of having to go another twenty four hours without another tattoo.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
He looked slowly over to Danny, noting the look , and let out a small sigh. "I can try to draw something for you, try to get your vision on paper. It's out of my zone, but I can give it a try. I just can't put it on your skin." A skill he'd like to learn, with everything else.
"Coffee, for starters." And none of that latte, double whip, caramel, vanilla syrup, made by a massaged cow, under the light of the full moon, in the midst of winter...bullshit coffee either. Coffee. He could get a little crazy about the quality of the beans themselves, but the rest of it was just...insane.
"I haven't decided on what I want to eat."
Danny
*The smile on his face lit it up as he danced around in front of him to be walking backwards.* You just earned a meal at the finest place you want to go to. I got the perfect place, there's an italian not much further along, D'Maggio's. It's bad coffee either. I ate there a couple of nights ago.
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Italian? For breakfast?" Now didn't that just break all borders. Pizza, sure. Why not? Cold pizza could be enjoyable, unless it was the pineapple and ham sort. Can't make that delicious no matter what you do with it. But 'italian' brought to mind 'pasta' and that just seemed a bit...strange...even for him.
"I'm not very high maintenance. I like to think 'fine dining' includes quiet, and less crowding."
Danny
But where's the fun in that? *he laughs.* Aww come on, don't make that face at me... *he grinned from ear to ear.* Coffee there, maybe get something to eat if there's something to get your interest? Panettone for example?
Tarrin Rasvelg
"What kind of coffee do they have?" The choice of beans were important. People forget that the taste between light and dark roast was phenomenal. Then there are differences between where they are grown, and if they were grown in the shade or in full sun. One shouldn't be so complacent with their coffee.
"I don't even know what Panettone is. "
Danny
Guatemala blend, and it's strong stuff. I only drink the good stuff unless I'm stuck with little choice. *Perhaps that'd explain the Starbucks thing he had in his hand.* Panettone. You're shitting me!! *he stared at him in shock.* It's bread, but it's got chocolate in it in little bits, and it's the best, you kind of grill it to heat it up a bit then put butter on it and and that's that. Look, this place has five different blends of coffee on off. So.. *he shrugged.
They were on the main street walking, well, Danny was walking backwards while talking to Tarrin. It was like darkness and light. he was now tidy, clean, well apart from the scruffy combat boots he wore on habit and the old and battered SkidRow T'shirt he wore. His hair had even been just about tamed, well, tamed enough to tie it back off his face at the nape of his neck. Shades, those oakleys he wore, along with a suit jacket that had it's sleeve rolled up past his elbows.... One hand held that, the other held a frappicino of some sort from Starbucks.*
Danny
(How aware is our boy today?)
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 5, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Tarrin Rasvelg
[good call - perc +aware]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 7) ( success x 2 )
Grace
16th Street Mall is one of those places that Grace tries to avoid like the plague (because it was the start of a plague). And because she tries to avoid it, she also likes to make an extra effort to come back to the place.
Because no matter what happened here, if she lets that rule over her every decision, then it means those dead assholes still have power over her, and fuck that.
Right at the moment, she's carrying a plastic bag with cutout handles, something heavy and rectangular inside. Dark hair of no particular shape makes a nest on her head, and 'she' could easily be a 'he'. She's got on jeans, a black t-shirt and gray turtleneck jacket, but would you be able to describe that outfit later? No. It just doesn't stand out. She doesn't stand out in the mall.
The one thing that does stand out, if one is so very perceptive as Danny is the faint echo of shifting sharpness. Tarrin won't sense a thing.
At least, he won't until she spots Danny and zags toward the two.
"Hey. I remember you," she says, pulling in beside Danny, walking backwards with him, to keep pace.
Danny
*He grins and chuckles at the girl now walking backwards with him at his elbow.* I remember you too. We're going for coffee and breakfast, my shout, want one? But it's not allowed to be starbucks. *he stage whispers with his hand held up in a mock barrier.* Tarrin here won't like it.
Tarrin Rasvelg
"I'm not really into chocolate." Does that make him some kind of aberration? In this country, it's almost as bad as not drinking coffee...or maybe worse. And lord if you don't have a love of dark chocolate. Call in Mulder and Scully.
He wasn't nearly as obvious as Danny. Sure, he had the shaved sides and back of his head, and he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, but he dressed fairly normal. Button up with the front open and a white shirt underneath. Simple jeans, simple boots. A silver ring as a necklace, maybe even some piercings. Otherwise? Normal. No rockstar air over here.
He wouldn't have noticed Grace if she hadn't stepped right up to the two of them. He would have let her wander off in the periphery of his mind and gone on about his business. But there she was and Tarrin shifted his attention towards her. "I don't like their coffee, no."
Grace
As soon as Starbucks is mentioned, Grace falters a bit and visibly pales (which is quite the feat for our little basement-dweller). Danny's got a Starbucks cup in hand too, doesn't he? Does that mean he went there?
That fucking place.
"Good. He's got good taste. Starbucks sucks," she says, with such venom there must be more going on there than just not enjoying the coffee. It's more like like she was engaged to Starbucks and caught the place cheating. Like Starbucks abused her dog.
Come on, behave like a human, Grace. She smiles at Tarrin "We haven't met. I'm Grace," she says, without extending a hand.
Danny
*He rolled his eyes with drama, then turned to be walking the right way again.* D'Maggio's it is then. There are five blends in there, so you can all make your own minds up. *He sticks his nose in the air in mock offense, the turn around from the lad just about getting in a snit because it looked like he'd have to wait a bit longer for that ink, then Taran kind of offered to help out with the design... it seemed to have completely helped his head out.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Their coffee is burnt. If you like burnt coffee, you like Starbucks." The venom in Grace's words amuse him enough that he gives her a small smirk. "No, we haven't. Tarrin." She might not have extended a hand but he did, a show of politeness. He wouldn't wait long before he'd put his own hand away, but it was at least offered.
"Starbucks has three blends. That hasn't helped them pick good coffee." But follow the kid he did.
Grace
Grace won't shake his hand, instead she just smiles a little brighter at him and waits. "Sorry. I uh..." she shakes her head. "I don't really shake hands."
Danny resumes walking the right way, and so does she. When meeting new people, it's best to do what they do right? Except, ugh, the hand-shaking.
"Tarrin and Danny, yes," she says, absently, as though she's filing away that information for later.
Danny
*He couldn't help the smile that was on his face. Hope was there, the ink was going to happen and he could almost hear the gun buzzing for him already, he could almost feel the burn on his skin from the wound and the ink. It was a struggle just to keep walking in a straight line at the thought of it, he sighed almost in contented bliss. Then they were at the door. His hand was on it pulling it open to the well presented and nicely designed old style Italian restaurant with it's high beams and old style photo's of Milan.
The wave of coffee in the air, rich, dark, exotic and as coffee should be. The hopper wasn't on the machine like in Starbucks, it was to the side of it. The slow steady whir as the beans were being ground. One of the barista's took the lid off to refil the top of the chamber with fresh beans, then slipped the lid back on before she turned and smiled at them all. Speaking in a semi italian american accent.* Table for three?
*She was a bright young thing, well turned out with clean hands, no nail polish and hair tied back with minimal make-up.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"It's fine." Tarrin shrugs a little, completely accepting of her personal hang ups. "Germs? Or the contact?" He can get behind the desire to keep distance between yourself and others. It's a personal space issue. Too many people rush up with hugs and touches to affirm their empathy, and you end up wanting to throw a wrench at them. Well maybe not a wrench. He doesn't like to break tools.
"I also respond to 'Hey you' and 'What's-your-name.' If you forget."
Tarrin held the door open for the two of them, putting hi hand up and over their heads on the door so as to keep himself from smacking into someone. Things happen. Sometimes awkward things happen. Which meant he stepped in behind the two of them.
And oh that smell of coffee. He could criticize the mundane nature of the place as being rather normal in modern day America, but if the food is good, the service is good, and the company is good, he doesn't mind so much; besides, the whole goth thing can get tiring when it's overdone. Or punk. Or Emo (is that the new version of goth these days?) and every other alternative lifestyle.
"Yes. Three." Whenever someone asks that, he has an urge to inquire about their eyesight. Are they not getting adequate healthcare? He'll pitch in if it's really that terrible. Maybe he just needs a bit of a caffeine spike to eradicate the grumps.
Grace
Grace sniffs a little huff at the question of whether it's germs or the contact. He has no idea.
"It's more like, why shake hands you know? It's a bizarre ritual if you think about it. I never really did like to shake hands, but I did it anyway up until the day I met someone new and they planted a tracking device on my skin," she says while walking into the mundane Italian place. In Grace's experience, there is no place that is truly mundane. Denver finds a way.
"It's not that I think you're going to do that or something. But why should I risk myself if I don't really want to? That's not very logical."
At the smell of coffee, she goes a little less logical, a little more euphoric. "Oh, this place smells nice."
She follows the waitress to their table, a place that doesn't exactly suit Grace's tastes to be along a wall, with good sight on the doorways. But eh. She can deal. She takes a chair and her eyes wander the ceiling.
Danny
*Both of Danny's eyes shot up at that revelation. Then he blinked and followed the girl to the table. It was all very well to do here, polite atmosphere, menu's were brought over and then the waitress drifted away to go back and polish the front of the counter. At another table an older man in his late 50's was going over something on paper, others were there as well, some debating this or that, all in all it was mundane yes, but in a non obtrusive easy going way.*
It's good huh? *Danny was making himself comfortable, removing the jacket to set it on the back of his seat. The t-shirt was sleeveless, greying and the painted on pattern from an 80's band was very faded. On his arms the ink could be seen (See gallery).* So go on, enjoy. Take your pick. *he gestures to the Menu's and begins to browse for himself.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"If you don't want to, that's enough reason. Logical, or not." He took a seat and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "I think it's meant to show trust. You wouldn't touch someone if you didn't trust them. You'd be concerned they might stab you...or put a tracking device on you." Tarrin looked over the menu carefully, trying to decide exactly what could weasel its way into acceptable cuisine for the relative time of day.
"Still, I can appreciate the reasoning behind what you do...or don't do."
Grace
It's telling, isn't it? That Grace doesn't automatically trust people anymore. So many are untrustworthy. But here she is sitting down with them and having coffee, and that is a kind of trust in itself, right? She's not running away, not using that ability to go without being seen.
She peruses her menu for a bit, looking completely absorbed. "Oooh, yes. That."
The menu slaps down to the table again. "Hazelnut gelato drowned in espresso."
Someone likes fancy sugary things. She's hung out around Kalen for far too long.
"What brings you guys to Denver? I mean why here? This place is a hellhole," she says. Ahh yes, just what the newcomers need to hear, Grace.
Danny
Don't look back on yesterday, you get back what you give away. *he smiles, interjecting that wisdom to the conversation.* Or that's how I see it.
*he picked out what he was going to have.* I like to take a leap before I look from time to time, it makes for new experiences. Tell someone you've never met before that they're beautiful in their own way. *he shrugs.* But it's probably best to pick your moment before you just go blurting that out, don't want to get arrested for something. But he's right.. *He nods his head to Tarrin along with a hand gesture.* What ever you want to do, long as it don't hurt anyone is good with me.
*Then his eyebrows shoot up at Graces words again.* Uh... really? I mean apart from being told not to go to the Black Orchid, there are things there that want to eat people... *he shrugged helplessly.* I don't know to be honest. *Well he did, but it wasn't for open conversation at a public dining table. So he passes that question on to Tarrin, with a few surreptitious looks at the man as well.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
With her reaction to the smell of coffee, her choice only marginally surprises him. He can imagine her reasoning lies in the unreasonable tradition of dinner before dessert (which was a bit absurd on its face).
"Danny likes to be that creep on the street that women throw coffee at, once in awhile." Tarrin set his menu down and took in a breath as he listened to them both. "If Denver is a hellhole, why are you still here?"
Grace
Grace turned a questioning gaze to Danny, and if he gets the impression that daggers were shooting out of her eyes, it... is probably just that Resonance. "Really? I would prefer it if you not creep at me."
She shrugs at Tarrin's question. Why is she here? "I have friends here. A life. And I find this place is a good place to be if you are in the business of saving the world. You get that chance all the time."
"The Black Orchid is going to be taken care of. But it's still a threat at the current time. Also you may want to be very careful of any suspected black hats. Someone may have called up Mulder and Skully for real and drawn some attention," she shrugs.
Danny
*He chuckles at Tarrins words throwing his arms dramatically wide for a moment, then settled in again.* I am.. I can't help it...
*Then stared back at Grace.* I'm hardly a creep. I can assure you on that one, he's joking.
*Then he put his attention to the menu again.* Uh.. .I'll have Ristretto followed by a Cap, and to go with it... *he frowns with few thoughts.* Tomato Bruschetta, with Italian Caprese Salad. What about you? *He looked at Tarrin again.*
*The waitress was beginning to hover as if she realised the order would be needed soon.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Am I?" He interlocked his fingers together and set his hands on the table. Tarrin look at Danny first and then slowly to Grace. "He seems like a creep to me, doesn't he to you? What creep doesn't wear Skidrow? It's their signal. Like fedora's to douchebags."
"Saving the world? Seems lofty to me." Tarrin's eyes shifted towards the waitress for a moment. "Chicken alfredo. A cup of coffee. That'll work for me."
Grace
"I want that thing with the hazelnut gelato in," Grace says, gives a smile to the waitress while she waits for her to disappear again. No, please don't hover while we're talking about the apocalypse.
"Lofty? Really?" Grace says, because she's honestly a little surprised. What Mage has she met who hasn't saved the world at least once? Unless they're really really new?
"A friend of mine once said that it's the most beautiful thing about the world, that people love it enough to save it, and that it happens every day."
[Awareness! Forgot to do this, but it seems important right now. Grace is wondering if Tarrin is really what she thinks he is...]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Danny
*His jaw actually dropped hearing what Tarrin said then he started to laugh again.* Un fucking believable... How can you diss SkidRow? I mean, what's wrong with them? Mind you..9He has to concede.* You've got a point on the Fedora. *he nods.
The waitress writes it all down, removes the menu's then heads off to go get their drinks and food dealt with. Meanwhile Danny was still just.... semi shocked by that information shared by Tarrin, however he had retained the information given by Grace. Sometimes, it wasn't what you knew, it was who you knew that mattered, and so far he was doing well on that information front.* I'm beginning to feel like a freak. *He had to nod.* Thank god for Gaga. *He even crossed himself semi reverently. But he kept his distance from Grace anyhow. Perhaps it'd just be easier on the girl that way.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"That's the most beautiful thing about the world? Not the sunsets? Beautiful men or women? A pleasing melody? Passionate romance? " He'd like to light up a cigarette but he's confined. That was something he hated about society now; you couldn't smoke in public because some people were just complainers. Ah but they'll get lung cancer! And the air outside and inside is just pure as a freshly dropped snowflake.
"If you keep trying to save the world, you'll never rest, or stop to enjoy yourself. Something is always trying to kill something else." He leaned in his chair a little, letting a hand fall to his lap while the other sat on the table. "How? You place a derogatory term a few words before or after the name, and it becomes a 'diss.' If you wanted real music, you'd listen to AC/DC."
Grace
"Well, that friend of mine is a special sort, I will admit," Grace says. A special sort. A Flambeau, which he describes as that house of the Order of Hermes dedicated to destroying monsters. Die young, go out in a blaze of glory, doing something to save the world.
She just looks between the two of them as they go on about Danny's fashion and Tarrin's AC/DC fetish. She cares so little for either fashion or musical tastes it just doesn't make any sense to her.
"Fedoras are... Right. Okay," she says, and her eyes go off to wander the borders of the room again.
Danny
*Everyone was a fucking critic these days. He shook his head but didn't take Tarrins words to heart.* There's something to be said for Angus. And I have this sweet video saved in my bookmarks, it's gunships blowing things up to Thunderstruck. *He nods sagely.* It works. Now, Simon and Garfunkel, if you want to go back to roots, or Toots and the Maytalls, but then I have also got a rare pink vinyl twelve inch press of House of the Rising Sun by Frigid Pink... That whole dirty guitar sound with it's distortion. It's just... genius.
*He let the pair of them talk, he just seemed to be the wrong sort of spikey thanks to Tarrin as far as Grace was convinced now by the looks of it. Thankfully, they're rescued by the arrival of coffee and Grace's food order, the other two meals are brought over to go with it.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
There's a silent enjoyment out of ruffling his feathers. He can remember when he got the same treatment several years back.
Now the arrival of coffee marks the beginning of a less 'grumpy' Tarrin, who takes the cup eagerly and begins to slide in cream to get it to an almost milky color. No sugar. "So let me guess, Grace. You're not in customer service." Because someone has to keep the conversation going, even as the food is placed in front of their faces.
Grace
The coffee comes in a large cup with a scoop of hazelnut gelato melting in the middle. On the side of the plate is a miniature spoon for eating the gelato daintily, which Grace immediately seizes upon with glee. "Heh! Teeny spoon!"
It's obvious from the way she handles the thing that she doesn't exactly do dainty. Maybe by accident.
"Customer service? Nah. I.T."
She digs a little divot out of her desert and starts devouring.
"We make security systems," she adds, in between bites.
Danny
*He took the food and contentedly began to drink the Ristretto, sipping at it and savouring the taste, regardless of how hot it was or how the flavours did what they did, that initial shock as if it were a toxin to take you away. Interspacing that with bites of the bruschetta. His eyes moved to the woman at the table to go with it.*
Oh? *He couldn't help but add to that.* Home or business?
Tarrin Rasvelg
For all the straight-facing it he had done. For all the moments he had managed to quip back as if he were serious about the all affairs...
It all had to break down when Grace got excited about the spoon. His lips were on the coffee cup, the liquid starting to slide into his mouth, and oh boy, did she give a puff of excitement over the spoon. There's a sputter as he coughs, nearly chokes on the coffee, and tucks his head as if to keep it together. Oh but no. He gives out a snirk, and a chuckle at her antics.
Grace
Grace gives Danny a grin. She's obviously not as upset with him as he thinks. The mercurial moods of Grace perhaps? But whatever. "Specialty."
Yeah, better just stick with 'specialty.'
"Though we do sell some kinda mundane stuff. That's mostly just a cover though."
Danny
Sweet little... Did you just laugh? *He turned and stared at Tarrin, now he began to lose it as well, he couldn't help it. He'd pointedly ignored the oddity so far, put it out of his mind as he reminded himself repeatedly that it took all sorts to make the world go, shaking his head he quietly chuckled to himself again before he took another bite of the food.
He nods to Grace's words and smiles again.* Well it takes all sorts don't it just? I can probably put some work your way when I get an apartment figured out. Well, one that's more permanent than the month to month shit I got going on right now. *He took another bite of the bruschetta and it wasn't going to last any longer than the Ristretto he had in that tiny cup.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
He shook his head a little, setting the coffee down to collect himself. "Laugh? No. You heard nothing."
Security matters, IT or otherwise, aren't really his deal. Sure he can mess with electronics and mechanics, but computer deals not so much. Still he's listening, even if he's not talking. Instead he twirls the pasta, collecting it on his fork and digging right in.
Grace
Her eyes flit back and forth between Danny and Tarrin, a little confused about why they're laughing. Are they laughing at her or with her? Or is that just something they tell you to make you feel better when you're definitely being laughed at?
In the end she chooses to go with a confused little smile. It would be easy to get the impression that she thinks they are strange ones.
"That would be wonderful! I'll tell Kalen. He'll be so excited to set you up, I just know it."
Yes, Kalen, the guy Danny's going on a date with runs a security company that mostly serves as an excuse to buy random bits of strange equipment. If Kalen is Bond, Grace is Q.
Ohh, gelato espresso hazelnutty thing, are you not just the best? Caffeine love is writ across her face now as she uses that 'teeny spoon' to eat highbrow Italian ice cream.
Danny
Mmhmm. .*he nods then makes a face as he rolls his eyes.* And I'm batman.
*He had to smile though at Grace, nodding softly to himself.* See, my day is now complete. I have made you smile and that is worth everything to me. *He seemed to be relaxing a bit more.* Kalen huh? Okay... Well as I said it depends on when I get settled.
*Then he turned his head and looked at Tarrin.* And how's yours? *he now broke open a packet of sugar to sprinkle onto the top of the cap, then set a spoon on top of the foam, watching as it sat there with approval.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
Tarrin paused to look at Danny. "You look a little scrawny to be Batman. Sure you don't want my pasta?" When he was asked how it was? Tarrin nodded. "Good. Thank you." Because even if you're an asshole, you should at least practice politeness now and then.
He looks over to Grace as she eats, amused by the scene in front of him. "Is it the ice cream or the espresso that you love the most?"
Grace
"Caffeine," Grace responds, "Though it is a delicious vehicle for the drug, I will admit. Nice place. Not Starbucks. Thumbs up."
Danny says that making her smile is worth everything to him, and she... doesn't quite know what to think about that. Every social event with her is a little fraught with confusion and internal questions, isn't it? You can see it in how her eyes dart around, how she looks just not quite comfortable, even though she is smiling and going on about her coffee and the cute little spoon.
"It's almost Halloween. He could go as Batman. I think we're doing a thing. With a bonfire and marshmallows. And pinatas."
Danny
I'll have you know i've got it in the right places. *He replied to Tarrin and let him make of that what he would. Arching his eyebrow he began to work on the rest of his food, taking his time, enjoying what he was eating. Occasionally he let his eyes slide to the Cap foam, then to the man beside him when he thought he wasn't looking. But then he looked at Grace again as well with those mahogany red eyes after he pushed the shades finally up out of his face.*
Yeah? *he asked quietly before he smiled again.* Nah, I think I'll let someone a bit more suitable go as Batman, if I go, I think I'll just well... Jack Skellington... or something. *he shrugged a bit.* I've got the suit.
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Haagen Daas makes a coffee ice cream. Not bad. Better than chocolate." Grace seems like a simple creature, and he likes that. Coffee...Caffeine.. whatever. She'd probably like it no matter how it came; probably best via IV.
"But who will go as catwoman? Can't have Batman without Cat Woman. " He blinked at Danny. "You have Jack's suit?"
Grace
The large cup comes up to her mouth at last as she downs some hazelnut flavored chilled espresso. And gets some on her nose.
She stares off into space for a few seconds and wipes it off with the palm of her hand, which she then stares at and licks.
"I don't know what I'm going as yet. Not Catwoman. Last Halloween I... uh... I was busy. I hope something like that doesn't happen again."
Danny
You don't? *he responds.* Massive big party last year in LA in the Viper room. It was fucking insane!! *he grins.* I went as Jack. *he shrugged a bit as if to say that was normal.* Year before, I went as the demon from that Buffy show. And you don't want me to go as Cat Woman... mind you.. I'd totally rock that look. *He smirked then his attention went back to Grace.*
Well, if you get to go, I hope you'll enjoy it. *he smiled again at her, then gestured to his nose really she was endearing.* You erm.. got some stuff....
Tarrin Rasvelg
"...who doesn't want you to go as Cat Woman?" Tarrin lifted a brow slowly to make his point. "I didn't say it'd be a bad idea." He also didn't say it'd be a good idea. He gave no opinion on who should go as Cat Woman...though now that Danny had put the image in his mind. "But which Cat Woman? Michelle Pfifer? Halle Berry?"
The fork was set down and Tarrin stared at Grace, trying to imagine some sort of costume that would suit her. "Dr. Manhatten. You should go as Dr. Manhatten, Grace. "
Gwendolyn
She was unapologetically tall, not because of nature but because of the intervention of science. She had come with bags and books and Things, such things. She came dressed like a symbol of authority and she wasn't afraid of it. It was the suit. It was the suit that she wore that was tailored and fitted and made clear every curve of her body and every effortless inch of her was assertive and obstinate and steadfast. There was something to be said about suits, about the choice in clothing people had.
her hair was long and held back in a low ponytail. Her eyes, though obscured, were dark, and her sunglasses went to perch on top of her head.
She had things. Such things. And those things were the tests that she'd spent all weekend grading and, normally, a woman with a gluten intolerance wouldn't be caught dead in an Italian place but there was coffee here. Not just coffee but good coffee. Coffee that had a taste and danced on her tongue and left her feeling warm and alive inside, because it was amazing.
Grace
"Really? You look at me, and think 'she should go with less clothing and more... uh... blue body paint'?" Grace finally gets an image of herself like that in her mind, and her countenance looks like it's hit a brick wall. "Don't answer that. I don't really want to know."
The last time Grace met Gwendolyn she wasn't dressed in all power and status items. She did not look like a New World Order agent coming to strip all the wrappers off of the tacos. No, the woman had looked just a little authoritative. And a little authoritative was okay.
Granted, she doesn't have any reason to distrust Gwendolyn really. It's just... you know... Elijah and the WiteNite has her a little spooked, and meeting someone who feels like that and who looks like she just walked out of a board meeting? Well, it has Grace squinting a little, perhaps a bit more on edge.
Danny
I knew it.. *He smirked.* Catwoman eh? *Danny was finished with his salad and had pulled the coffee towards him. the spoon was only slightly dipping into the firm froth that sat on top of the cap. Then he picked the spoon and with care and consideration he spooned off a little of the foam to eat it. Then he set the spoon into the coffee itself and carefully began to stir it so's not to disturb it too much. When he'd mixed in the sugar he set the spoon down and picked up the cup to start drinking.* Who's Doctor Manhattan?
*Gwendolyn though, he remembered her from Starbucks, she'd not really talked to him that much, so he kept an eye on her briefly before going back to the conversation at hand when it drew him back to it.* Uh.... Blue body paint? Like Hank from XMen?
Tarrin Rasvelg
He held up a hand. "My apologies. Jane Eyre. I meant Jane Eyre." The complete opposite of no clothes and blue paint. Tarrin glanced to Danny. "Knew what? "
"Dr. Manhattan is a character in a comic book. A scientist who gets locked in an lab and is turned into this all powerful being. Becomes coldly logical, absent from the social groupings of humans. Very scientific, very rational. He walks around naked, and he's blue." Tarrin reached for his coffee, taking another long sip of it.
He...did not know the other woman, though like the other two, he noticed she was present. A little too formal for his personal tastes, of course.
Gwendolyn
She remembered Grace. She remembered a lot of things, but within those first few moments of being town she remembered amazing taco filling and someone who understood the reference on her tee shirt. So the woman, who was lovely in some painfully effortless way, drew her attention to Grace and awkward though she could be, there was familiar company and she was never one to really drink alone, even if it was just coffee.
So, she approached. Heels clicked and she was a ball of formality and poise and-
"Grace?"
not quite a soprano. Not quite an alto, either.
Grace
"Oh... You're uh... Gwen, right? I remember. Tacos," Grace says, and looks to the empty chair that Gwendolyn might sit in should she like.
"They have good coffee here," she adds, as if 'Gwen' didn't know already.
"And also some people."
Tarrin and Danny get a little wave of the hand to indicate their presence. Yep, those are people.
Danny
Uhuh.. *he nods thoughtfully.* Not Marvel then? Marvel I can get into. Don't tell me... DC? *he took another sip of the coffee. Then nearly spat it out when Tarrin said Jane Eyre.* How the.. *He glanced around and lowered his voice as he swore.* fuck can you get those two mixed up? Uptight little governess with a guy that walks around in his birthday suit painted blue?! *He had to set the cup down as he laughed more. Then Grace had her visitor and he tried to contain himself a little more, picking up the cup again slowly to take a sip as he still chuckled.* Would you like to join us? *He offered, his other hand motioning to the chair that would make it a four.* And please feel free to order something to eat, I'm paying.
Danny. *he offers by way of an introduction. He was bare armed, showing that lovely ink he had on the inside of his left elbow and along the inside of his forearm as he picked up the drink again.* And this is Tarrin. *He nodded his head towards Tarrin who was busy eating.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Don't remember which company. They made a movie from the comic. I remember a lot of money went into presenting his blue cock on the screen in all its glory. " He sipped the coffee, moving it closer to the edge of the table so that the waitress would understand he wanted a refill without him having to actually engage in some sort of conversation. Tarrin's gaze slipped to Danny slowly, almost in irritation at not understanding the joke. "Sarcasm, Danny. Sarcasm."
His attention was quickly moved to the woman, of whom Grace knew, and was apparently about to join the table. He gave a small slip of his chin in a nod to her. "I promise I won't bite. Unless you ask."
Gwendolyn
There was coffee to be had, and also people. Hmmn, people. She had to think about this one, but didn't think for too terribly long because soon enough she was slipping into an extra seat, looking like she was probably someone's parole officer, except she couldn't run a mile in the shoes she had on. So she was probably most surely not something too terribly.
It would seem she doesn't blush easily, but instead arched a brow and the corners of her lips turned upward and-
Okay, now she could blush because some witty retort Just. wasn't. coming. to mind.
"Gah, you mention giant blue genitals and a woman can't keep her thoughts straight."
Grace
Gwen is blushing, and Grace is busying herself with her desert/drink trying to banish the thought of herself as Dr. Manhattan from her mind, but it just won't leave.
"I know what you mean," she says, and digs for some unmelted gelato. Not much of that left.
"What if they were giant green genitals?"
Danny
Un believable. Again.. *He shook his head once more in amusement, resting his other arm on the table lightly. His hair was long, on the back of his chair was a suit jacket.*
See? *he gestures to the poor woman in a suit, then addresses Gwen.* Forgive my uncooth uh... lunch companion there, He's let the coffee go to his head.. .*He smiled though, shaking his head again.* Unbelievable...
*Then Grace gets in on it and he loses it. Just starting to laugh quietly to himself.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Then the owner would be the jolly green giant." He pointed his fork at Grace momentarily, then stuffed it back in his pasta. "I guess you could go as him for halloween, but Dr. Manhattan suits you more. I bet he'd be impressed by tiny spoons too. Or anything tiny."
"Giant blue genitals your thing?" His brows lifted as he moved his attention to their newest addition. "That's one hell of a fetish. Blue genitals. " He pushed the rest of his meal to the side for the moment.
Gwendolyn
"What can I say?" she starts, managing to regain her composure just long enough to stay calm. Stay collected, stay a lot of things that she could fake even though she couldn't stop blushing and she was feeling just a teensy bit lightheaded, "the genie from Aladdin, Doc Manhattan, particularly saucy depictions of Vishnu..."
She shrugged.
Grace
Someday, Grace is going to tell the story of how she met Tarrin and Danny, and in it there will be much discussion about how the topic was giant green and blue penises. She will probably forget to explain how they got on that topic in the first place, but there you go.
Grace turns her head slowly over to Gwendolyn saying 'really?' with her eyes.
"I do have a soft spot for Doctor Manhattan, really. Just you know... not one for his giant blue... Ahem."
She sips espresso then, more to hide the awkwardness than anything else.
Danny
*He couldn't help it, he was just on that slippery slope now, chuckling quietly again as he listened to the conversation rapidly go down hill. You'd expect it from his type of people normally. But now... This was just funny.. He was rapidly sliding down now towards the giggle stage.* Oh dear gods... Why are we discussing blue genitals?
DC comics suck anyhow.. *He declares war on that notion.* Marvel all the way. Go Shield. *He managed to keep his face straight for long enough to say it then chuckled again.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
If the conversation is awkward, Tarrin hasn't received the memo quite yet, or at least he doesn't seem to have. "Have a thing for cartoon blue men with the voice of Robin Williams?" He crossed his arms over his chest, but resting them on the table as he listened and spoke. "Hm...Robin Williams speaking during sex." He screwed up his lips a little to think about it and decided that, no, that was not pleasant for him. "I'd feel inadequate afterwards."
"Ah yes, DC comics, the Edward of the decently written comic universe." Tarrin glanced at Danny with furrowed brows. "Let me guess, you have a life-sized plushie of Nick Fury."
Gwendolyn
"Oh dear god no," she told Grace, laughed because it was the kind of laugh that had to banish thoughts and things that would make a rather well-dressed woman turn a shade of bright pink.
Grace
At least Grace is not alone here. At least Gwen (in her ridiculous suit) is also having awkward blushy weirdness over the conversation, yes?
She does not seem like a Technocrat. Suit aside. But maybe that's just because the Technocratic types she's always met have been so... fucked up. Fucked up would be a word for it.
Fucked up with a blue shlong.
For some reason, Grace chooses this moment to break down and giggle into her coffee mug.
Danny
*And that was it... he was gone... the poor guy is just laughing now and it's one of those laughs that just ends up with him in bits to go with it.*
Oh hell yeah... It's that eyepatch. It does it for me.. *he couldn't help it now, he was just laughing properly, no more chuckles for him, not even a giggle. Nope, he threw his head back and actually gave up all pretense of being polite to laugh and.. It. Felt. Good. When he could manage it again he spoke.*
No to the Robin Williams thoughts! I'm gonna be scarred for life!! *Now he had to.. up comes his hand and he "Nanu nanu's" to go with it.* Hummuna hummuna Mindy! *Then he was off again in helpless laughter that had him wiping his eyes to go with it.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
As the group laughs, he takes this moment to reach for the refilled cup of coffee, add the appropriate amount of cream...and sip it. "Yeah you seem like the type. Probably call him your waifu too."
Gwendolyn
Technocrats don't giggle.
She probably wasn't a technocrat, suit and mirror shades and authoritarian wire aside, it was hard to be taken as an authority figure when you break down into laughter. A waitress came by to take Gwen's order and, at that juncture, all she could do was shrug and say "Coffee? Black, no sugar."
Because that was some seriously intense coffee, but she covered her mouth and tried to compose herself. It wasn't working.
Grace
"You guys are so weird," Grace says, into her coffee mug. But it's an amused sort of statement.
"Could I get some more espresso?" Grace asks the waitress, because who wouldn't want more of this stuff?
Danny
Oh shit... *he laughed reaching his hand into the pocket of his jacket then pulled out his card, handing it to Tarrin.* Yeah, you just earned this. Wow, I'm taking you out to breakfast again some time...
*Well that came out wrong, but it was said now. He was just still laughing, the chuckles of an amused individual that found the laughter releasing and he found his wallet, then put enough money down to cover the cost of it all and enough for another round after.*
Man, I gotta bail.. But yeah... *he was getting to his feet and pulling on that suit jacket that somehow went with the skinny black jeans and his scruffy combat boots he had on. When he was in it, he then pulled the sleeves up to his elbows and pulled the Oakley's over his eyes.* Yeah.. this was good. *his phone made a sound like frenetic fingers racing down an electric guitar and he had to answer it with the laughter still in his voice.* Yeah, I'm on my way. *He hung up quickly and nodded to the table.* Keep smiling. *Then he was heading out the door.*
Tarrin Rasvelg
If he felt any pride, it was in this moment. Tarrin leaned back in his chair, lifting a brow as the card was handed to him. "I don't even get a say in this." After giving the card a glance, he placed it in his back pocket.
"How about you get me a copy of the idea you had. I said I'd try to improve it. I'll keep to that." When his attention turned back to the girls, he gave them a small smirk. "So Grace works in IT and you're in something...professional."
Gwendolyn
"I'm a sociologist," she said, "and? A high school chemistry teacher."
she gestured to her bag, at the pile of bulging awful paperwork that resided within and heaven knew wht kind of horror might reside in there. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.
Grace
"Chemistry, huh?" Grace says, and makes a little humming sound with her tongue tip sticking out from between her lips.
"And what are your thoughts on chemistry, hmm? You have a favorite element or something?"
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Sociologist and a chemistry teacher? Must have your hands full. " Grace's question makes his lips quirk up in a small smirk, then slip away. "Must not get away from work very often."
Gwendolyn
"The element of surprise. Shortly followed by Tungsten, because being called the devourer of tin is just so... brutal."
It's metal metal.
Grace
"Devourer of Tin, that is pretty cool. Does it truly devour tin, I wonder? Spirits of Tungsten fighting spirits of Tin or whatever it is that spirits do?"
Grace puts it out there. Looks back to her cup, sips. But she keeps an eye on Gwendolyn. How open minded are you, o lady of the suit meant to impress?
Tarrin Rasvelg
That made him laugh just a little, and Tarrin held up his hand in the rock sign. Behind the coffee cup he was sipping at again, he smirked. "Would make a good sculpture, or car. I can't imagine its theme song while it's devouring another metal."
Gwendolyn
"If the idea of tungsten were so thoroughly empowered, it would not necessarily devour tin, but it would stifle tin, keep tin from being smelted, since the mineral wolframite interferes with the smelting of tin. It would behave as it would be within its nature to behave, the spirit of tungsten, thereality of tungsten. The concept of tungsten, because conceptual tungsten should behave like pure tungsten," she mused, and oh how she mused over the concept of the metal, the idea of the metal.
She then finally got her coffee, delight crossing her features for a brief and fleeting moment as the took a drink of something deliciously bitter and wonderful.
"Tungsten is pretty amazing. I'm enamored of how incredibly dense it is, because of it's high boiling point and how pure tungsten is so much more ductile than tungsten with even be barest hint of impurities in it. I love how it's only naturally found in chemical compounds. It has the highest melting point and highest tensile strength of all metals in pure form."
Grace
Grace grins at Gwen, as she has obviously dredged up a passion here. A passion for all things tungsten, apparently.
"I met a guy recently who gave me some wine. Wine which had had its atoms exploded and reassembled. I asked how they did that without releasing the nuclear energy, or at the very least how they contained it, but he didn't say.
"Are you a mad chemist, Gwendolyn?"
Tarrin Rasvelg
Tarrin hadn't finished high school. The only reason he could get a job now was because someone helped him get his GED. Sure he understood some of that, but not all of it. Gwen just...talked and his brows rose as he sipped at his coffee.
"I think she's out-nerded you, Grace." He said with a surprised confidence in that.
Gwendolyn
"Not so much mad as enlightened, and not constrained by conventional methods and time tables," she waved a dismissive hand at the prospect of conventional science, "conventional methods are horribly limiting, stifling, it takes the entire wonder and innovation out of science."
Grace
Grace turns a little glare to Tarrin, though it's obviously fake admonishment. "Nobody out-nerds me. Nobody. You just haven't heard me waxing poetic about Linux yet. Stick around."
Ohh Tarrin. Did you think you were going to come to Denver and meet all the cool people? No. You came to Denver and are now stuck with the nerds. Congratulations.
"I don't think the conventional types know what innovation means. You have to break through in order to have a breakthrough, right?"
Well, in any case, Gwen knows the right things to say. If she's hanging out with a goth and an obviously strange person who should go as Doctor Manhattan for Halloween, then she probably shouldn't go on about why the unmitigated control over science and firm hand against mysticism is necessary.
She's probably not a Tech.
"How many of us in Denver have you guys met so far?"
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Really. Until I see it, I don't believe it. "
He set the coffee down slowly. "Stifling for you. Plenty of others can use 'conventional' means to accomplish the same feats as someone who doesn't. Innovation can be obvious, extravagant, flashy. It can also be mundane, simple, unobtrusive."
"I haven't met many. Four, so far?"
Gwendolyn
"That's not to say that people who aren't enlightened are incapable of creating and making breakthroughs, but the application of social controls, the societal pressures against change, the bureaucratic structures in place to maintain the status quo- it is incredibly difficult," she laments, yes laments at the prospect therein.
Her bag beeps at her.
She gives it a look, glowering and displeased. Technology doesn't care, though.
"Five? Maybe six," the phone beeps again, a little more insistently.
"I swear, it's like she knows when I'm talking to people… do you mind if I take a phone call? There's going to be a very angry deacon on the other end of that call if I send her to voicemail again."
Grace
Why do people ask if it's okay that they leave in order to answer the phone? Why not just, you know, go?
"No. You have to stay here. It's mandatory," Grace says, completely dry. I mean, if she's going to be asked...
"Mmm. Mundane, simple, unobtrusive, safe. Ultimately going nowhere, breaking no molds, forging no paths. Calcified, frozen, meaningless, futureless. Chained like chain coffee shops on every corner each selling an identical, similar, burned out piece of Starbucks.
"I mean, we can exist like that. But only for a while. A very little while. And you wouldn't be living. I've seen how we could do so. much. better."
Tarrin Rasvelg
"And if it works for someone? To achieve the same ends through a way you'd view as mundane? 'Breaking the mold' can be just as constraining as doing what's 'conventional.' When everyone tries to be unique, unique stops being different and starts being the same."
He tilts his head towards Grace when Gwen answers the phone. "What she said. Didn't you get the memo? Phones. Not allowed."
Gwendolyn
She grinned at both of them and picked up her bag, "phones are terrible, terrible things. It was great talking to you."
And, with that, she went to
Grace
"It depends on the end you're looking for I suppose. My ends are not in themselves conventional. So, if someone can figure out how to bring me, say, intelligent lion robots in a conventional manner, then more power to them."
She downs the rest of her now all-liquid, horribly sweet hazelnut coffee confection.
"Personally, I opted for the tap-dancing spider robots. But I got told that was too creepy," she says, and rolls her eyes.
Tarrin Rasvelg
"Then we have to ask the question of what is 'intelligent?' If you want someone to create what you want through their means, clarity is important." Tarrin crossed his arms again, resting them on the table. "Spiders do freak people out. If they were tap dancing bunnies, you'd get more support."
Grace
"Well, I just think spiders, you know, they're more versatile. You can tell them to crawl on the ceiling, for example. Can't do that with a lion. Not unless it was a very small lion. And then you're missing out on the whole point of lion robots, which is having them be big and toothy and rideable.
"Spider-bots, now you could network a whole swarm of them together, and then... that was deemed even more creepy," Grace says, shrugs. "What are you going to do?"
She picks up on the whole thing of Tarrin making her something, and she laughs. "I want to make them through my own means, because its the doing that's half the fun."
"The doing. My doing. My ends. Oh, my ends, yes. If you can find someone who can give me this universe's admin password so I can rewrite it better. You know, like I did to the last universe I visited? In a conventional way? I'd love to see that. You know. Conventionally."
Tarrin Rasvelg
Honestly, he could just let her talk. Her, Gwen, Danny. They just take it all on their own, and he rather enjoys listening. "Swarms of spiders..." He nodded slowly. "No, not something that most people are going to welcome. Small, or large. People don't usually like eight legged creatures that can climb ceilings."
"If I find someone, I will...send them over to you. Though if anyone I know discovers any sort of 'admin password' to this place, I'm keeping it myself."
Grace
"Aww. No fun. Keeping it to yourself. If you're worried I'd wreck havoc with an admin password, then... uh... you're probably right. But hey, listen, it was good getting to meet you. I had better get going though.
"Give me your number? I have some more important things to discuss with you and Danny. If you're staying here, you'll want in. Or at least, you'll want to know what you're missing.
"I'll have to introduce you to Ginger."
There's a cryptic smile there when she says Ginger. Ginger isn't a person, but Tarrin doesn't know that just yet.
She grabs her plastic sack with its book, zips up her turtleneck jacket. Looks like this is the end.
Well, an end. Ends and means to them have been on her mind a lot lately. Living too. Doing. Elijah says he does not want to live or die, because either means that he has taken the responsibility to do something. To do something about the broken state of oneself is to do something about the broken state of the world, for we are it. To exist, to let yourself sit in stasis, is an assertion that the status is fine.
This is why Grace Does. She looks around the Italian place, all of the people in their little boxes, all those kaleidoscopic, holographic minds, all those bodies, mundane thoughts, mundane acts, mundane ends. None of them fit inside their molds, have to cut pieces off to fit, and cut they do -- bleeding out in ways that make the grease trap at the local McDonalds arise up in necromantic blobs (to use a particularly gruesome example).
The bird of time has but a little way to flutter, the bird is on the wing, and those wings are icing over. You are a feather. Your meaning is to fly. So de-ice yourself.
The moment of reflection over, she smiles to Tarrin, and walks for the exit.
Tarrin Rasvelg
He shifted to reach in his pocket for a sharpie he had stashed with his wallet and used it to scrawl out his number on a napkin, sliding it towards Grace. "I think I'd rather use the password to my own ends. Turn it off and on again. See if it fixes the problem."
He stuffed the capped sharpie back in his pocket. "Call if you need anything Grace." Because he's not an asshole, and he likes the girl. He'll have to find her a couple teeny spoons and some coffee ice cream, if only because it makes him laugh to see her enthusiasm.
She elft ahead of him. Tarrin ordered another cup of coffee and sat alone for half an hour more. Then he rose and made his own way out.
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