sooochangeable | Appointments Post

[James listens intently as he trots after her, nodding at the right moments and humming up until 'fairy blood' is mentioned...then he goes quiet and speaks after she's finished.]

I picked all that up, I promise, but:

Fairy..blood?

[she's still got that light in her eyes...something halfway between teasing and truth.

After all, she doesn't doubt this for a second]

On her mother's side. I don't know if fairy is really the right word, but it fits. Because she's kind of magic.

What like, 'abracadabra' king of magic?

[He's either trying to call her on the bluff, or he's genuinely interested...both are of equal chance here.]

More like 'ancient spirit' kind of magic.

Normally this would be the part where I tell you you're off your rocker but seeing as we've got wings and all I'm more inclined to believe you.

[Speaking of wings, it'd be of note that James's haven't moved, twitched, fluttered or flattened since his first instant here. It might be due to getting the shit beat of him but....it might not be.]

[she laughed, not at all offended by the off-her-rocker comment. After all, she'd heard the same or worse many, many times before] Well, you'll have to take my word on Sophie...but there's plenty else here that's fantastic in it's own right.

Yeah, you're right about that.

[He smiles a little, slightly embarrassed that he called her insane pretty much.]

I saw a turtle the size of a person walking around the other day.

[Either she doesn't notice his embarrassment or, more likely, she chooses not to draw attention to it. Either way, being called insane (however it was phrased) was nothing new. If anything, it was amusingly familiar]

There are a few, actually. Though I haven't really had a chance to talk with them, yet.

No shortage of weird here. I guess that's good. Never a dull day.

[Or so he says...]

[she can't help but laugh at that]

It has it's moments.

Sometimes it's incredibly slow. Or maybe it just feels that way because I'm used to...more. Being in a city.

And, just when you get used to that, the world turns on its head again.

[Perhaps he'll be kept on his toes for a while here. That'd be nice.]

So people just make new lives here, huh?

[she nods] New lives, or alternate ones. Or just continuing the ones they can't continue back home. The alternative is giving up.

[she gives him a smile that's more teasing than serious, though she means it well enough] And that doesn't really help kill time.

I guess things would get pretty monotonous if you just curled up in a ball and waited to die. [He laughs a bit but then realizes that's probably not kosher.]

Sorry that was...dark.

[kosher or not, her smile is empathetic as her gaze trails over the darkening bruises]

...I think you're allowed.

Here. [the warmth and light from the coffee shop is a relief after the pouring rain, and she holds open the door to let him go ahead of her]

Thanks.

[James scurries into the shop before her and brushes a hand over his head in a scrubbing motion, shaking water everywhere.]

Ugh, it's like a bath out there.

[But still he's smiling. If only she knew just how fake it was. If James had been allowed to act his normal self he'd be sulking like a child. And possibly attempting to drive a straw through someone's eye.]

[her smile, at least, is completely genuine. And anything off in his is more than explained by the awful reception he'd had on arriving.]

It's definitely starting to act like spring. But there's hot food here. That should help. And.... I'll be right back.

[she doesn't really wait for him to acknowledge her leaving him in the doorway. Instead, she goes to the clerk behind the counter, feet carrying her lightly across the store as if she was fully unaware that she looked like a drowned cat. Or maybe she just didn't care. And, a minute or so later, she returns with a handful of towels.

They weren't meant for drying off people, but beggers really couldn't be choosers. Not if they wanted to keep their masks in place]

[James laughs at the size of the towels - well aware they'll be doing little to help but, again, beggers can't be choosers.]

Thanks.

[He wipes his face off and dabs at the back of his neck before his eyes flicker over the menu.]

Recommendations for the new kid?

Well, the pizza's not exactly up to New York standards, but that might be my bias. [she gave him a quick smile]

Really, though, the daily soups here are usually good. There are heartier meals at Good Spirits, but that's a bit farther down.

[rather than fight with her damp curls, she merely draped the towel over her shoulders to catch the drips]

Oh good! Soup sounds good.

[Soup sound heinous. What he wants is a change of clothes, his cellphone and a bed big enough for five of him. But normal people would want to be warm. Soup made you feel warm, so he would eat it. It was probably about time for him to eat anyways.

So he orders chicken noodle soup as cliched as it sounds - and he pauses; for a moment forgetting that everything is free. It's weird, but welcomed. The last thing he wanted to worry about was supplying an income in this hellhole of a town.

James sits at a table and scrubs through his hair once more, wincing when he brushes his hand against the fresh stitches.]

[she got a muffin and a cup of black coffee for herself and perched on a chair across from him, picking it apart with her fingers.

This close and out of the rain, she was quite a sight to see. Without the elements to get in the way, it was obvious that she wasn't just disheveled from being outside. Her clothes had started out new, here, but even with everything being free she had learned to wear things until they were practically falling apart. There were signs of wear on her elbows and knees, and rubbed patches where she'd attempted to get the worst of the paint off her clothes.

Her nails were stained with oils, the mark of her trade, and there were no signs of makeup or jewelry, except for a single, thin chain that disappeared into her oversized sweater. She might have been a bag lady on the streets of any city...or else a street urchin, for all her apparent age. Just a gamine child, barely more than a waif.

But, despite her tattered appearance, further examination would show that she was clean. Very clean. The rain and damp left the scent of mild shampoo, soap, and the slightly astringent tang of turpentine. And, despite the crumbly nature of her snack, she didn't get crumbs on the table or herself. She ate quickly, but neatly, and folded the wrapper when she was done.

On the walk over, she'd been chatty. Maybe overly so. But now that they were settled inside, she seemed content to leave him to himself while he ate, letting him settle in rather than peppering him with questions. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, though. Polite. Removed. But not at all awkward.]

[James didn't so much eat his food as...play around with it. Yes, he had the odd sip or so of the broth and nibbled on some of the noodles but he didn't...chow down, he just turned the broth around in his spoon and took the silence as an opportunity to think.

He looks quite blank-faced as he tosses his food about. Like there isn't anything going on in his brain.

[When she does speak, it's soft. Gentle even. She might not do pity, but she can understand rough circumstances and hard arrivals...and his had been harder than most.]

Have you found a place to stay, yet?

No.

[He seems a bit reluctant to say that and he looks up hurriedly at her, resuming his act - hiding the seams.]

I'll find a place though! There are tons of empty ones apparently so it won't be an issue.

[If James were...free to be himself he'd make someone else do it for him.]

[she nodded] There are. And they aren't bad. I lived in one for the first several months I was here. I still keep a studio, there.

[which felt odd, really...having her own studio. It was a luxury she never would have been able to afford, back home]

There aren't really guides for finding a place. It'd kind of a first come, first serve deal. But there are people who can help you look or move furniture if you need it. I promise that more people are helpful here, than not.

[though she wouldn't blame him for doubting her word, all things considered]

I promise I'm not trying to force my company on you...but if you felt like having your own place, rather than heading back to the welcome center [...or the clinic], I could help you look now.

[Yeah he looks like he wants to avoid any public place alone right now. Who knows where the horrible, awful person who did this to him is?]

The sooner the better.

...If you don't mind, I mean.

Appointments Post

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

[action]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)