Serafíne
I stumble into every open scene, but once again only for a flyby and I'm'a let someone else start. :)
Serafíne
or I might not pop in. because maybe sera's presence would be really distracting.
Grace
[Awareness!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )
Ian
Bardo Coffee was one of the better coffee shops in the Denver area - or so the reviews claimed. The shop was on Broadway, a bit South of downtown proper and not terribly far from Washington Park. The coffee there was excellent, and the pastries weren't bad either. Both of these things were lost on Ian, who did not drink coffee or eat pastries. But he was there anyway, seated at a table by the wall beneath a large abstract painting. A Windows tablet was propped up on the table in front of him, and he sat back with one heel resting casually on the edge of his seat, his attention focused on the screen and on whatever audio was currently being fed through his bluetooth earbuds.
A cup of black tea sat curled in one hand, warming the skin of his palm. All in all, a very mundane pose to find him in.
Grace
There's better coffee at the office, because Kalen always manages to find the best of everything. But Grace was in the area, and the office is all the way across town. Besides, this way, someone else gets to make it for her.
She's wearing her coat today, and has yet to take it off as she strolls up to the register to order a large caramel frap thing, all ice and sweet, more of a desert than a drink.
Really, she wouldn't have to be open to the bend of magic in the air to notice Ian in the room. It's like a vision out of a menswear catalog wherever he shows up, like you could just cut a square out of the world with just him in it, and it wouldn't seem out of place. She stares. If he looks up, she'll give a little wave while waiting for her drink.
When it does, she strolls over to his table, wincing a bit at the Windows tablet. What is it with Clippy's minions infesting her life lately?
"Hey. What's up?"
Serafíne
Dan isn't especially, noticeable to mages. Blends in with the hipsters, just a tall, lanky guy with a nice, full, blond, hipster bear. Hard to tell the difference between hipster beards and Duck Dynasty beards but in Denver the nuances are obviously: he's in black skinny jeans and a red-blue-pink plaid button down with the sleeves rolled up, buttoned over a band t-shirt (someone you've never heard of, naturally. his tastes is probably better than yours) with tattoos visible on his arms, colorful, one blending into the other.
He's not getting a table and there's a line just then, staggered because it is just one of those things. People are not ants, marching neatly without stumbling into each other all over the forest floor.
And sometimes Dan sparks on awareness but tonight either that sense is turned off for him or he's just suppressing it.
See, that pile-up happens just after Grace retrieves her frap. There's something malfunctioning behind the counter, or too many special orders at once. Maybe he catches Grace's eye as she slips past him and gives her a quiet wave. You know: acquaintances passing each other in line, that kinda thing. He's intent on coffee and its ordering, is Dan.
For the nonce.
Ian
[Awareness]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Lena Reilly
[[Pre-emptive Magedar! Spec: Uncanny Instincts]]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )
Ian
Grace's impression of Ian wasn't an inaccurate one. Today Ian's outfit consisted of skinny black deisel jeans, boots and a thin grey sweater that hugged his upper body and zipped up in an asymetrical L-shape. The high collar was left partly open, so that the edges of it fell away from his neck and collar bones.
As it happened, he was watching a movie. Depending on the angle at which Grace approached him, she might notice the lush colors and cinematography that were notable hallmarks of a Wong Kar Wai film. Either way, Ian paused it when she approached, glancing up from the screen as he pulled off his earbuds.
"Hey." He glanced over Grace's shoulder at the milling line, spotting Dan's familiar beard. If Dan happened to catch Ian's eyes, Ian would nod in his direction. A casual acknowledgment. Maybe he even glanced around a bit to see if Sera was in tow, but she wasn't, so a moment later his attention refocused on Grace.
"How are things over in Graceland?"
(Ha ha.)
Grace
As she headed back to Ian's table, her eye was caught by Dan and his waving. He got a smile, a little wave. She said hi. But then, she had a place to be.
She raises her eye at Ian, and his 'Graceland' comment, as though she hadn't heard that a million times in school. "I'm not a reincarnated Elvis. I think I'd know if I were."
She slides into a chair at the table, plopping her frappuwhatever down. "Graceland's good though. I met someone new recently. Jo. Kinda just ran into her at the DMV. New enough not to believe in fairy tales," she says, smirks.
Lena Reilly
It's not "cool" to like Taylor Swift these days. Hell, it hasn't ever really been cool to like her. But since when has Lena Reilly given a rat's ass about being cool? That's the best part of freeing yourself from the bounds of societal conventions and pushing your boundaries; you very quickly learn that what other people consider to be acceptable just doesn't matter. Be yourself, they say, and Lena's all about trying to do that. She doesn't always succeed, but she tries.
And that's why she's bopping her way down the street in a grey jacket that rests over a grey T-Shirt with an vaguely anime-like drawing of Rogue surrounded by glowing playing cards with a banner that reads "Can't Touch This." Her jeans are black, with her usual sandals dancing their way along the sidewalk. Her hair is falling free and waving around as she half-sings along with that most famous of current pop stars that echoes through her headphones.
"I've been picking up the pieces of the mess you made, people like you always want back the love they pushed aside. But people like me are gone forever, when you say goodbye!"
Yep, that's what not being cool looks like. But she earns points for enthusiasm.
As she dances along toward the coffee, that feeling tickles its way down her brain and she smiles a little. With a little side shuffle she hip-checks the door open, slipping inside as she pulls the earbuds out. She gives a quick look around and gives a little smile and wave to Dan on her way toward Ian and Grace.
Serafíne
Ian catches Dan's eye okay and so does Grace. So: he is noticed. He is noticeable enough and the guy gives Ian the edge of a smile. One corner of his bearded mouth. There's some acoustic version of one of the new tracks from the new Decemberists' album and something about rhythm makes some part of Dan move unconsciously to it. Just a staccato tap of his forefinger against the meat of his thumb as he waits.
Sera isn't in tow: not then, not now, not yet, but that line is one of those things and she must be around, maybe they can feel her outside or coming closer, if they are Feeling Things. Her patience is far from legendary, particularly when she's still kinda coming down from whatever she was doing the night before, and she hasn't slept and she wants a drunk. Last night Sera was wearing a cocktail dress seamed with rhinestones, crystals, diamonds maybe. Tonight she's back to battered denim cutoffs, fishnets, combat boots. An olive green military-style jacket, ragged so it feels all authentic, swings open over a slice of her torso, the suggestion of her own tattoos just visible beneath a lacy black and lime green bra.
Sera carries a brushed nickel travel mug with her into the coffee shop. Gives Dan a Look because You Are Taking So Long, Dan and wanders over to Ian's table to wait. Kisses Grace on the crown of her head. Pulls up a chair without asking permission, gives Ian a look that is wry and hung over and still kinda rolling. Leans over to inhale his tea, because she likes tea, Sera.
Offers both Grace and Ian the chance to sip whatever is in her coffee mug, and if either one accepts, I'll tell you what heavenly concoction they find therein.
Serafíne
(The curse of posting at the same time: edit.)
Dan's turning around to glance at the door as Lena comes in and she gives him a smile and a little wave and he lifts his chin in acknowledgment, blue eyes tracking her progress through the coffee shop as she dances through it. Longer than he'd meant to. Sera slips in after Lena, still finds her way to the table and everything else. Offers everyone (Ian, Grace, Lena) a sip of her Drink, whatever it may be, but is also: still, pretty quiet.
Ian
"Mm, fresh meat," Ian teased lightly. "Don't send her my way."
(As if anyone in their right mind would actually think of him as a responsible mentor.)
There was a swirl of activity at the counter. The drinks were taking too long, and soon enough Sera appeared to check on the progress. But she wasn't the only familiar face to wander in through the front door, and when Ian caught sight (and sense) of Lena, his eyebrows went up.
"Hey you." This was offered to Lena with a broad, toothy smile. Ian had teeth that were too white and somehow a little too sharp and even when he was relaxed - even when he was smiling - the effect was subtly reminiscent of primal things. Sera offered everyone a sip of her drink, but Ian shook his head. He did, however, raise his own cup to his lips.
As the table began to feel crowded, he popped the stand on his tablet and put it away, sliding it neatly into the small messenger bag on the floor beside his chair. The headphones he left hanging around his neck, for now.
"Don't I feel popular." He winked at Grace. Half a flirtation.
Grace
She declines Sera's offer, even as she accepts her kiss. It probably doesn't have much coffee in it. Probably maybe it's straight whiskey or something. "Sera. Hey," she says, soft and quiet to match her friend. As Sera leans down, she'll likely feel that winged-ness that is new to Grace. Wings that are there thought they cannot be seen sprout from her back, passing straight through the real.
"She doesn't seem your type," Grace says, sighs. "I think I'm going to have to grab on to her and hold on tight before the Techs do."
Lena walks in, and that's a beat Grace hasn't felt in a while. Her head turns, and her eyes widen -- so many Mages in this place right now, even the sleepers must be feeling it -- this curiously thrumming cat with wings notion in the air. She waves at Lena, after a moment's concern.
And that concern? Why does this always happen? Mage convergences are weird like that.
"Lena! Hey!"
Lena Reilly
Serafine also gets a smile and a wave as she comes over to the table. She turns her attention to the whole of the table once they're all converged. "Hey, you guys. Been a while. How are things?"
She doesn't move to take a seat until Ian frees a seat, which is essentially a silent invitation. She politely waves off the offer of whatever Sera's drinking and settles in. "How have things been?"
Lena Reilly
[[Ack! Delete that first "How are things?" Lena isn't a broken record.]]
Serafíne
"A-Okay," Sera returns, when Lena asks how things have been. There's a drawl to her voice, like somehow the speed on the record player has been shifting lower, lengthening like there's a needle skipping the groove, but maybe that has something to do with Last Night or Tonight or whatever is in that coffee mug. Look closer.
Languid. That's the word for it. The demeanor of woman who has not slept in more than twenty-four hours and is returning, moment by moment, sensation by sensation, to the confines of her body.
She sips her coffee mug. Sips it with pleasure, sips it thoughtfully.
"I dunno," Sera interrupts, then, as Grace tells Ian that her new friend is Not His Type. "Maybe some folks need to be with someone who isn't their type. What the fuck's gonna happen to us if we don't challenge ourselves and everyone fucking else? Just sit around sliding into complacency.
"Sides. I bet Ian's great with lost little lambs. If you'd only give him half-a-chance."
Ian
Ian put a finger to his lips in a silent hushing gesture at Grace's mention of the Technocracy. (Speak of the devil, after all.) An echo of his smile remained when he pulled his hand away.
"And what is my type, exactly?"
The Decemberists were playing over the speakers, which was perhaps to be expected in a Denver coffee shop. Before Grace could answer his question, Sera interjected, and you could actually see the muscle in Ian's cheek twitch with the effort it took him to hold back his laughter.
"On second thought..." There was a sharp gleam in his eyes. Deliberately predatory. But he dropped the act a moment later. "To be fair, I don't really have a fucking type."
(Oh but see, that was actually not true. It just depended on what variety of the word type one meant to imply.)
He made a gesture toward Lena, as though to include her in the statement. (Not like that, mind. They'd never slept together, or been in a cabal together. But she knew his habits about as much as anyone else at the table did. Probably a bit more. Or at least, she had known them.) "Life gets boring without variety."
A moment later: "By the way, Justin says hi."
(How the fuck did Ian know Justin?)
Grace
"Things are," Grace says in response to Lena. "How they got there is a great mystery." This is obviously Grace being silly, but hey...
"That's true. I mean, I'd probably still be scoffing at fairy tales or thinking I was batshit if it weren't for you guys having been there. Jo, she's got boxes around her thinking habits. I keep thinking of how to break them. Thought to show her the parallel worlds if only I knew how."
Oh yeah, coffee. She has some. It'll all melt soon if she doesn't get at it. So she slurps up some caramel.
"Things have been amazing, though, Lena. I met someone else recently too."
Lena Reilly
She grins a little at Ian's response to the idea that he might have a type. She did rather anticipate a response like that.
"Having types makes for a dull way to go through life. My type was always 'has a pulse.' Everything else is negotiable, for the most part." Which isn't to say she was ever particularly promiscuous (except for that little bit of time, but we don't talk about it). But she never was one to think inside boxes, even before she Awakened.
"And I'm not gonna lie, Sera...I'd pay good money to see Ian mentor someone." It's said with the tone of a good-natured tease, a sidelong glance given to him.
She nods her head a little in time with the folk rock...not normally her jam, but again. She doesn't have a type and that goes to music, as well. She looks over at Grace when she says she met someone else, brows raising in interest.
"Oh really? Who?"
Jo Hamilton
[Do I know what yooou know...is there magic in the room?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
Serafíne
Dan's line Started to Move and he moved with it. His order did not take long and as Ian is telling someone (Sera? Lena? both?) that Justin Says Hi Sera is giving him a briefly sharper look, the arc of her gaze defining a motion like a scythe, for all that not very much about her seems bladed.
But then Dan's behind her and he has a tray in hand and he's murmuring something about the match and she tips her head back and submits to being cosseted and cozened and cajoled out of her sprawl. She's walking slowly, s if the world were at once infinitely new and infinitely and there is that strange steadiness about her as she informs Ian, "I'd like to know how he's doing, sometime."
Low-voiced. Her gaze briefly caught on her reflection in the window, some strange echo, contained in her body. Some passing time.
Then she's up. Dan's slung an arm around her shoulders, rests his chin on the crown of her head, and off they go.
Serafíne
(Thanks guys. Bedtime for me!)
Jo Hamilton
"Goooooooooood Evening Denver!"
Call it intution, caffeine-intake syndrome, Jo Disease, or whatever, but holy hell do they have targets painted on their backs. Sort of. It's more like Jo is actually paying attention today, and when she got a whiff of something familiar and strange in the area, she didn't balk at the concept of crashing the party.
"It's a lovely evening tonight, with fluffy clouds and a moon brighter than the lake that spawned Excalibur!" Jo was half leaned in, her hair a mess, and the dark liner having been smudged from...sleep? Rubbing it? Who knows, but she looks closer to a raccoon. She wears a black hoodie with DRESDEN DOLLS sprawled on the back of it, and a yellow smiley sticker right above her chest. The pocky she had been rapidly eating was pulled from her lips as she greeted the fellows.
"And boy have we got a selection for you. I'm Jo, and I'm your host for this evening!" Someone needs to lay off the speed.
Her sneakers squeaked as she bounced a little towards Grace, pausing to look after Sera as she wandered off. "Aw man, it's like... all the chicks just like run out when I'm walkin in. I don't like, smell funny do I? Hey Grace!" Jo hadn't learned Grace's dislike of people in her personal space, and thus had no qualms about stepping as near as she could to her and pulling the fabric of her hoodie closer. "Do I smell or something?"
Ian
Sera would like to know how Justin was doing. Perhaps another night, Ian might tell her. But tonight Sera had places to be. So Ian watched her go with a passing glance.
Lena would pay good money to see Ian mentor someone. Ian grinned, amusement showing in his dark eyes. He didn't attempt to defend his reputation. Perhaps he preferred that people saw him that way. (A bad influence.)
And then? In walked Jo.
Ian's eyes cut to her sharply, and he sat motionless for a moment. Then he said (to Grace.) "You're right. I take it back."
Grace
"Myself, in a mirror," Grace says to Lena, and would explain further if not for the exclamation of Jo stepping into the place. Speak of devils, indeed, Ian.
You've got to hand it to Jo, she knows how to make an entrance, and she buzzes with excitement as well as resonance. Grace can't help but smile at her. Hey, everyone, meet the new kid.
"Well, technically, everyone has a smell. It's not like, horrible or anything?" she offers, hopefully. "Not funny, surely."
Grace does not find Ian to be a bad influence at all. Ian's just Ian. She still cuts him a little sharp look. Jo's the new kid, right? Play nice. Or don't, as the case may be.
"Everybody, this is Jo. I was just talking about you, man."
Ian
[Per+Alertness -2 diff from Acute Senses - What DOES Jo smell like?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN4 (2, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Jo Hamilton
[0.0]
Lena Reilly
The funny part of Lena's comment is she would be more worried about how Ian might deal with the student than she would about him being a bad influence. She gives a little shrug and then looks over at Grace when she says she met Herself, in a mirror.
There is no explanation needed there. Which is not to say that Lena understands, but she has an idea. Grace has that different feel to her, and Lena makes no assumptions. Even if that's not the case, sometimes cryptic things just can't be explained further. Whatever the reason, Lena is glad for--
Stop. Blink.
That's what Lena does when Jo bursts into the coffee shop hyped up on...whatever. Lena isn't worried about what someone may be on or acting gregarious, but this is someone she doesn't know. And this someone comes right over to their table. Lena doesn't quite have the cool reaction to Jo that Ian has...no, she tenses. It might not be obvious outside the table; she doesn't jerk away or the like. But the way her shoulders and back straightens, the way she goes still...
Lena has personal space issues, you understand. And trust issues. And...well, other issues.
She doesn't calm, exactly, after Grace makes introduction. She does put on a smile though and gives a little nod to Jo.
"Hello. Nice to meet you."
Jo Hamilton
Hum. She hummed. The subtle movement of the fan as it pulses, spinning round and round inside of the computer case everyone forgets about. The hum just behind the ears, emanating from the electrical lines that flow down the street. Constant. Never changing. Ever present. A sign that civilization is around you. That was Jo.
"Right. Right. Jeez, semantics. I mean like I don't smell horrible right? Like a rotten fish or something? Cause I mean WOAH if I do. Where did I find rotten fish? Be like some body snatcher took me up and walked me all around Seattle or something. " Her lips curled back into a wide grin.
Jo turned on her heel, pushing the pocky between her teeth, giving it a quick SNAP, then crunch crunch. She lifted her hand up and flashed the others a brief rock sign. "Me? Little ol me? Well TCHT no wonder I felt my legs tingling and my ears wigglin. "
"Whatchu you got? I'll get us some more. Cause I need coffee. LOTS of coffee. And.. Oh.." She turned to look at the menu and found herself distracted... "Are those donuts? LEMON BARS?"
Ian
"You smell like a 13 year old's birthday party. Way too much sugar. No fish. What the hell is that, some kind of novelty soap?"
Jo was standing across the table from where Ian sat, but he didn't actually need to be standing next to her in order to pick up on the details of her scent. Grace shot him a look that was as much of a warning as Grace was likely to give, and Ian... well. He just looked at her innocently. (Or at least, as close to it as Ian was capable of getting.)
Lena's response to the new girl's sudden presence did catch his attention though. Ian looked at her for a long, quiet moment. Whatever he was thinking wasn't broadcast on his face, but there was a minute softening around his eyes that might have been something like concern. He didn't say anything. Just tipped his head lightly to one side. (You okay?)
Grace
For once, it isn't Grace whose back stiffens. Look how casually she took Sera's kiss, eh? Look how much she doesn't mind Jo (and Jo's scent of 13 year old's birthday party for that matter).
Grace recognizes it for what it is, and ignores it, because it's what Lena would want her to do.
"I... Lemon bars are good!" Because hey, free food? Jo has become her dispenser of such things lately. Sucks to be Jo. Grace doesn't turn down freebies. Unless it's probably maybe straight whiskey.
Ian looking innocent has that sharp look evaporating into a crinkle-nosed smile. Well, that's new. Have honestly never seen that before.
Lena Reilly
She takes a slow breath and looks over at Ian when he turns his attention her way. There's a brief little shrug and a smile, as if to say Yeah. It's more of a Close Enough when her full reaction is taken into account, because okay would be a bit of a stretch. But she's able to control herself and make herself be okay. Pushing limits, right? She isn't one to force people to constrain themselves for her, and if she's uncomfortable than it's her problem, not Jo's. So it's something.
The attention of the whirlwind that is Jo turned elsewhere, she is actually able to adjust a little and adapt. "So, I'm guessing you've been busy then," she says to Grace with a little smile, more natural than the one she gave just previous.
Jo Hamilton
Her nose scrunched, and Jo whipped her head to look at Ian in mocking, quizzical scrutiny. "Been to a lot of like 14 year old birthday parties lately? EH? Dude.. way to go all mighty-morphin-creeper mode." Her rail-thin hands were pushed into the pockets of her hoodie, the pocky having been eaten into oblivion...or that piece anyhow. "It's unicorn poop. It smells like sunshine, rainbows, and goodness." Her tongue pushed out from behind her teeth momentarily, and she gave him a wink.
"L.E.M.ON. BARS. L.E.M.O.N Bars." It was becoming a mantra that energized her steps towards the register. Had she noticed Lena's uneasiness? She didn't seem to show it. Maybe she was a bit obtuse, when it came to things like that
Ian
Ian gave a little roll of his eyes at Jo's comment. "You asked."
And as it turned out, the soap in question had an even more ridiculous name than he'd imagined. Which, well. Fitting.
He took a last sip of his tea and gathered up his things, sliding the strap for his messenger bag over one shoulder. "I'll catch you guys later."
And, with that? He was off to do whatever it was he got up to in the late evening.
Ian
[And lo, my bed-time arrives. Sorry to have to jet. Night all!]
Grace
"Oh yeah. Busy busy. Got the room of laser awesomeness almost finished. And then there's also Jo. And the me-thing. So, busy. But it's a good busy."
Jo goes on about lemon bars in line behind her, and Grace's eyes find the ceiling. Heh. Lemon bars. She gets worked up over everything.
"Bye, Ian. See you. Come by the place soon, I'll show off our training arena, okay?"
Lena Reilly
"See you later, Ian." She watches him go and then looks back to Grace. Jo's enthusiasm for confections is amusing, enough that she's able to relax and get a bit of equilibrium. She leans back in her chair, nodding.
"Good busy is never a bad thing. I'm happy for you."
She stops there, blinks.
"Wait. Laser room?"
Jo Hamilton
Lemon Bars. Two coffees. A muffin. A piece of cake. And the last donut. Glazed but hey that was ok. Donuts are donuts, and sometimes you have to take one for the team. When she gets back, Ian is gone and Jo narrows her eyes almost suspiciously. "Another 13 year old birthday party?"
With the goods spread out, she dropped in her own chair, the backpack on the ground, and her feet already pulled up in the seat. Jo popped the top of her coffee, shaking and tearing the...many...packets of sugar and dumping them in. "Alright, let's, like, get this party started!" She gave a small whirl of her hand in the air, then took to the coffee like a dehydrated, dying rat.
"So...you like, Grace's chick on the side? "
Grace
"Kalen and I are building a laser tag training arena," Grace says, beams a smile. "I put the robot laser turret on the ceiling just last week."
She leans in a little. "I did a prototype number on my coat. It has sensors on it like a laser tag suit. Kalen wanted people to be able to have their own special coats for it, because he's Kalen and he does that."
Jo returns with a sugar addiction spread. Grace goes for a lemon bar because she needs one and never quite feels like asking.
"Grace's chick? What?" She looks a little confused, and then eyes Lena with eyes that question what she's got herself into. "Who have I got that Lena might be on the side?"
Lena Reilly
Lena has many reactions to that little question, and if you're quick you can see them all flash through her eyes. There's the slight widening of surprise at the question, a flash of red anger, the wash of sadness at some unspoken memory and tinting it all, a little quirk of her smile. Lena is a Cultist of Ecstasy, and she doesn't let herself not feel her emotions...even when they pass by quick.
"First off, hi. I'm Lena. I prefer that someone get properly introduced to me before I start volunteering information about who I may or may not be fucking."
It doesn't come out angry...more amused than anything. There's a touch of reproach in there, of course, but it's softened by the tone. "Your turn."
Jo Hamilton
"Ooh so she's your main?" Jo leans forward between her knees, enjoying Grace's confusion and the flash of expression along Lena's face. Very few things are off limits, even to strangers, though she has a mild understanding of what people tend not to like; she simply doesn't heed it often. It's more fun that way.
"So that's like..a no. "Sera looks waaaay more your type anyway. I mean, super cool and funky, and totally into the scene. " Those teeth are exposed again. "Am I Grace's side chick? Nope! Not sayin it wouldn't be cool beanies to like, totally be there, but nah. And you already knooooooooooow who I am. Like. Grace totally just told you. But anyway. Jo! Simple, everyday, gamer Jo. Yup that's me." Her fingers plucked at the donut, tearing it in half, setting one piece on the plate and the other in her mouth to slowly consume.
Grace
Grace takes a sip of coffee, looking as though she really wishes she'd taken up Sera's offer of random whatever in a cup. It would be easier to deal with this drunk or high or whatever.
That, and she starts going after her lemon bar with great aplomb, an excuse not to say anything (seriously, since when is that an excuse for Grace?)
"Mm nobody's anything," she says, through a mouth of lemon bar.
Lena Reilly
She listens to what Jo says, lets the woman make her assumptions for a while about who her type is. There's some amusement that they just had this conversation about type before Jo came in. Once she's done, Lena looks at Grace and gives her a sympathetic smile. Lena knows how uncomfortable this likely is for the Virtual Adept, and she really should let them off the hook, so she does. Put an end to the little game.
"There we go. That she said your name didn't mean you couldn't say hi. All I needed. As to your question...I'm not involved with anyone. I'm not what you'd call 'good sexual partner material.' Grace is a good friend, that's all. Same with Sera. Who, actually, was never really the type of girl I tended to go for. She's pretty cool though."
Jo Hamilton
She stuck her tongue out, tore off a small bit of her donut, and gave it a toss at Grace. "See that's no fun. I mean if you're going to be like, surrounded by chicks who are like, awake, then I mean... dude go for it. Like it's not like what you talk about is gunna like go over their head and it's not like they're gunna be all dense and stuff. I mean.. have you seen the girls these days? Ugh. Shallow much? Totally don't get me started on my computer science classes. You'd be lucky if you like found five of us in a room of like, fifty. Like a barren wasteland filled with like hungry hyenas, and you're totally some sort of weird antelope. All alone. For serious."
Her nose scrunches, her lips purse, she cocks her head, giving an obvious impression that Jo is trying to grapple with something Lena has said. "Right. Like. Ok. I mean I don't get it but like, cool beanies yo."
"So yeah... matrix and all. You're unplugged right? I mean I totally didn't like jump that gun right? " Her eyes darted to Grace. "Right?"
Grace
"Look, Jo, I get it okay? It's weird my not being 'attached' to anyone or anything," Grace says. Attached, like she were a remora latched on to someone's side. "I tried that before, back when being normal mattered to me. Wasn't cool."
She shrugs, sips coffee. Never had to really explain this one before. Just, nobody's ever asked. Uncomfortable, yeah. "I think I can still find ways to be connected to people even if I'm not fucking them, you know? I could fling myself at people, but that's just not me."
Grace looks to Lena. Jo doesn't understand why she might not be good sexual partner material. These two must be the most disappointing 'chicks' to Jo right now.
Lena Reilly
She smiles. "No, you didn't jump the gun. I'm Awake. I'm part of Sera's group."
Grace explains why she isn't with anyone, and Lena actually listens to that. She's never known, because she doesn't feel the need to ask. They all have their reasons for what they do. But Grace is volunteering. It tells Lena more about Grace, and she smiles a bit. Appreciative that the other can share it.
And if Grace can... "As for me, I'm HIV-positive. So as you can imagine, not really a good idea for me to dive into the sexual relationship arena."
Lena Reilly
[[Ack, adding addendum, one moment. Accidentally hit tab. It's about that time for me so I'm exiting her. =) ]]
Lena Reilly
Her phone then beeps, and she looks at it before sighing. "And on that happy note--sorry, ladies, didn't mean to go on a downer--I need to take off. One of my co-workers needs help with something. Jo, it's been nice to meet you. Grace, give me a call. We need to hang more."
She smiles to the Virtual Adept warmly, nods to Jo and rises to make her way out.
Jo Hamilton
"Oh man, when did I say that? Wooooaaaaah reign in the sad parade there Spider-man. Nah I think it's totally cool. Like, I mean it's totally the rage on campus to be all in and out, and like doing the whole.. man what's that word.." A quick snap of her fingers. "Hook ups. I mean, let's be real, once I figure out the whole code and all, bodies won't like matter anyway. It'll be all about the brain and the wire and all... "
"Group? Woah you guys are all groupin yourselves? Weird. Like.. why? "
"Ah man that's like.. woah.. like I don't even have like a word for that. Suckage? Like major suckage? "
"Hey!" She grabs a lemon bar and holds it up, almost waving it in the air. "Dude...take a lemon bar. Like.. for reals. Totally makes the world better."
Grace
"Bye Lena. We'll have to play laser tag sometime, yeah?"
It's hard to stay annoyed at Jo for long, at least it is for Grace. She's a kindred spirit in so many ways, and such people (at least, in meatspace) are rare and precious. She waves lemon bars at people for crying out loud.
"We group up for protection. For the sharing of similar ideas. For... lots of reasons. And some people don't, and that's cool too. For me, it's like going on StackOverflow, right? I want to have people to go to and ask questions and get answers. People who have been there before me."
She bites into her lemon bar. "And I also want to have people to go to and ask questions of who are totally unlike me in every way. Keeps you on your toes, right?"
Lena Reilly
[[Thanks for the scene. =) ]]
Jo Hamilton
"Protection from like what? I mean.. OH like agent smith? Yeah I'd be like runnin too. Those guys...woooah..like major woah.I can't stop bullets yet dude...Nah really, I mean like what from? Burglars? Rapists? Murderers? Internet stalkers? MRAs? Dude you need like a platoon to like deal with those guys."
"People ta.. wha? Dude you got the internet! It's like... it's got like billions of people on it! I mean like you want to get a consensus or even like some like deviant thought? Google it. Like woah, you'd be surprised and horrified to like see what people put up. I mean for reals? You want to like talk to people, you don't even have to like get out of bed. Literally. You can be all.. ooh.."
She sat back, tearing a piece of lemon bar and chewing it. "Should totally make a gamer/computer/food-providing bed. With like heated blankets and like...OH like a water bed.. oh yeah.."
Grace
Dude, you got the internet, Jo says. Some of the things Jo says are just so laughably new, it makes you want to grin maniacally.
Oh, if only she knew that Grace's 'group' were the ones who made computers exist in the first place. That without them, the internet would not have billions of people.
So Grace gives her a maniacal, silent grin. And eats more lemon bar. She's not about to go on a 'the Virtual Adepts are so cool' rant in the middle of a public coffee shop. Agent Smith might actually be listening, Jo.
No comments:
Post a Comment