This isn't exactly the most popular or hoppin' hangout in town. Even the owner and her single worker don't keep the place open all the time. Vermont is not exactly renowed for its religious community, let alone its Jewish community. All the same, it's quite a lovely day to be in the shop: it's quiet, the place smells like paper (that lovely smell of books that readers often love) and greenery -- there are a lot of little succulents scattered around the place for whatever reason -- and Gisa's sitting in one of the chairs, casually enjoying her own shop. The Fireheart has two books open, one on her lap and the other on the table next to her, and she's flipping back and forth between them, making notes.
Like popular or hoppin' has ever stopped a writer as obsessive as C.B. from visiting a bookshop: it could be 72 degrees and sunny outside and he'd still rather be inside with a book, be it reading or writing one. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with the words ‘I would prefer not to’ emblazoned upon it in white, with a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up on top of that. Plus black jeans and red Converse high tops and that old school leather bookbag slung across his person with the 'IMPEACH DRUMPF' and 'resist' buttons. Worn Red Sox baseball cap on his head, too, and a hand-rolled cigarette tucked behind one ear. Hands slung in pockets, he's more absorbed in the books when he first steps in; it takes him a good few moments to realize Gisa is there as well, and then he blinks at her. "Heeeeeeey," he says. "Gisa, right? Did I know you owned a bookstore? Presuming this place is yours?" His short-term memory is shit sometimes. For all he knows she could have told him all about the bookstore and he doesn't remember.
"You did know I owned a bookstore, I told you," Gisa answers, without looking up for a second or two as she makes a couple more notations. "But it is a Jewish bookstore so I don't expect most people to actually show up here. Though we do spend time in the back room sometimes. That is a place for people to come if they need help." She finishes her notations -- quickly-written Hebrew cursive -- in the margins of one of the books, then sets it aside and looks up. "It is mine. Alonso works here also but I own it." A small, awkward smile. Someone probably told her to smile once when dealing with customers. "How are you?"
"Well. Jewish writers are some of the best goddamn writers in the entire universe," C.B. says with a slight grin, and then raises an eyebrow as he approaches the counter. "Sorry. I guess I shouldn't be saying the g-word in here or something. But I'd like to think the spirit of Lenny Bruce is watching over me." His eyes move past her to wherever the aforementioned back room. "The back room. Hmm. I'm guessing it's probably not for the likes of me, given my track record here so far." He takes off his cap and runs a hand through his mop of unruly hair. "Not bad. Finally got some work done; took forever. What're you studying there?" He indicates her books with his chin.
"Yes, this is a true fact," agrees Gisa, without a hint of irony or anything but, well, stating a fact. "Chabon is one of my favorites. And it is okay. I do not care for the word but it is not the way that commandment goes. To take the name in vain is really, in the original, about making an oath on the name of God. This is part of why we are released from our oaths on Yom Kippur, so that we may be released from any that we have made in His name accidentally." She adds, after a pause, "It does not actually work on pledges, which is a relief, I think. Do not worry, there is no one here at the moment but us." Her eyebrows rise up, and then fall again. "What track record? And it is fine. I keep the back room as a safe place to talk about our matters. Also there is a first aid kit and a change of clothes and food back there." Her eyeflames flicker briefly. "Oh. I am working on looking at the links between the Talmud and Torah and other writings, where one references the other. There is a listing on Chabad but I am checking it." Be... cause... that's something normal people do, Gisa.
C.B. bobs his head. "Chabon is great. I often feel a bit like Grady Tripp, but maybe all writers do." He listens to her shpiel on taking names in vain and comments, "Good to know. I'm another one of those atheists. Usually I stumble and fall over mainstream religion like a shambling zombie, but. This is your house, not mine." A C.B. attempt at politeness and concession. He has them sometimes. "As for your back room, I am not a member of the special 'club.' And a certain owner of a certain /other/ establishment in this town told me that back rooms are only for people in the 'club' and I was not fucking welcome." His brow furrows, showing pretty clearly how he feels about this. "So I just stopped asking. I'll have my own space here soon enough." He tilts his head, eyeing her books with a small squint. "Ah. So you're not just a bookstore owner, you're a scholar as well. It's not something I know a ton about, but I like the obsessive detail with which those things tend to be done."
Laughter from Gisa then: it sounds like a handful of pebbles being thrown into a well, but the way her mouth curves up a little bit at the corners is SORT of an indication that she means it as a laugh, isn't it? It should be, anyway. "That is fine. I do not have anything against atheists. I think that atheists have a great deal to teach those of us who are not." Her muscular shoulders roll easily, that tectonic sort of movement that she has. "Well, that may be true for his or her back room, but it is not for mine, not as an absolute. As a general guide, yes, but if you are invited, or if you are hopeful by nature, then you are welcome, whether or not you belong to the club in question. You are invited. You may visit, and the resources are open to you. If I should leave someone uncared for, God forbid." And she seems to really mean that last bit. "Yes. I am. I am, and I enjoy to research and to read. Not just on Torah but that is... " Pause. "It is calming?" Her shoulders roll again. "Well how are we to know the answers if we do not discuss and research them?"
C.B. watches her face as Gisa explains her views. You can learn a lot about someone by watching them talk -- even someone as stoic as Gisa. Heck, maybe it's the lack of expression that makes her interesting to watch. Those eyeflames. His own eyes are that faded denim blue with smoky silver swirling in him, but it's different. They mostly look like normal eyes. "Alright. Duly noted. 'Gisa Cohen is not a wanker,'" and he pretends to write it down, using an invisible pen on his palm, smirking all the while. He goes on. "Calming? Meditative, I would think. I feel that way about poetry. I mean, writing and reading are probably the closest thing I have to a religion, so in that way I'm maybe not so far apart from the Jewish tradition." Then he considers her question, such as it is. "That goes for absolutely anything in life, doesn't it? People don't think. If they fucking thought, then I wouldn't be protesting the same goddamn things I was protesting fifty years ago." He figures it's safe to say that in here, right now, with no one else around.
"I try not to be, though I cannot say that I am not literally." Total deadpan there, Israeli accent and all, and her eyeflames blink out, and then back in again. That literal ceramic mask that is her face is so flat affect it's possible she's literally answering his statement... or perhaps that is Golem Humor (tm). "Meditative is a good word for it," she agrees easily, folding her hands in her lap and watching him. There's so much about the Elemental that's very inhuman -- high-Wyrd, high Mantle -- but some of her gestures, still, are human. Practicedly human, perhaps, but human still. She pushes herself up to her feet. "Where are my manners? Would you like some tea or a coffee?" A pause, and she rolls her shoulders. "I understand. It is the same ninety years ago as it is now. The more things change, I think the saying goes in English, yes?"
It's the middle of the afternoon and it's just CB and Gisa in the Jewish bookstore, at least for now. There are a couple books stacked by the seat Gisa was sitting in, and the pair are talking.
"The more things change, indeed. Boy, howdy," C.B. states, rather wryly. With apologies to those who have already seen it, he’s wearing a black t-shirt with the words ‘I would prefer not to’ emblazoned upon it in white, with a red and black plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up on top of that. Plus black jeans and red Converse high tops and an old school leather bookbag slung across his person with 'IMPEACH DRUMPF' and 'resist' buttons. Worn Red Sox baseball cap on his head, too, and a hand-rolled cigarette tucked behind one ear. "Gisa, I would absolutely love some coffee, because I have a headache that's threatening to drill right through my temple out into the other side if I don't get some more caffeine in me," because he's nothing if not hyberbolic.
"I heard good things," is the first hint of company coming, spoken in an almost purring contralto as Amber tugs open the door for Angelica. The taller woman grins at the other, the coalfire glow of her eyes twinkling as she ducks to get her horns in under the doorframe -- not that it's actually necessary, no matter how tall she is even with the imposing heels she wears to accentuate that height. "Besides, there are so many books in the world, and only so much time to read them all -- there's always the chance to find something you weren't expecting to learn in a place like this. Part of why I love bookstores so much."
Angelica smiles as she comments to Amber "I suppose I could start collecting weird books. I think I am do to start a new collection on my oddities section after all." Upon Angie's form is an over-shirt 80's style t-shirt that is sky blue, the dark purple spaghetti strapped shirt underneathe that, green leggings and then a pair of red sneakers to finish it off. Seems she was feeling like it was a colorful day once more in stead of gothic. As she spots CB she smiles and says "Well if it wasn't my favorite authors. What are you and your lovely friend up to?" Her eyes studying Gisa, mostly focusing on the sigil on the forehead more than anything. She then asks "Do you both know Amber?"
There's a Keurig in the corner. "That sounds very bad. I can help you with your headache. As you remember. But I will get you a coffee." Gisa's manner of speech is sort of flat-affect, with that strong accent. She'd fit in great on Themiscyra, that's for sure. At least, the one from the movie. She pauses as the door opens, sort of -- confused looking, if nothing else. More than one person in her shop that isn't her OR Alonso? What is this madness? After a pause, she puts the mug under the Keurig and starts it up. "Hello, Angelica. No. I do not know Amber." But there's a certain tone in her voice, and her chin tips up toward the other fire-eyed woman. Recognition of a kindred spirit. There aren't that many broad-shouldered, muscular, 'could crack your head like a walnut with their thighs or biceps' women in the world, and fewer still with eyes made of fire. "I am Gisa Cohen. This is CB. Welcome, this is a safe place."
C.B. glances over his shoulders at the new arrivals and almost does a double take. This is probably the last place in the world he expected to see Angelica. "Huh. Well, if that's not proof this is a small town, I dunno what is." He smirks at the colorful young lady, giving a small salute: his index and middle fingers at his forehead, moved off quickly. Blue-silver eyes move over to the tall and imposing figure of Amber. "Nope. Can't say that I do." But he gives her a full appraisal. Critical eye. Then, following after Gisa, he adds, "Your helpful ability is pretty handy. I could probably really use one of those myself, except I'm actually one of those suffering artists. I start being able to cure my headaches and stomachaches and my work would probably go to shit. Next thing you know I'm on the Today Show with a tan and a bestseller."
Amber shakes her head slowly at Angelica as well. "I'm afraid not," she says, turning her attention curiously toward the other pair. CB gets a thoughtful, lingering look-over to match the one he offers in turn before it's followed with a quick, easy smile. "Nice to meet you, CB." Gisa gets an even longer study, though, with a curious expression on her lips before she moves toward to offer the woman her hand. "Amber Watson. It's a pleasure -- and thank you, for the welcome."
Angelica walks further into the bookstore and takes a seat where C.B. is as says "Yeah, the town is pretty small. Should I ask if my ears were burning?" A giggle then escapes her lips before she jests to C.B. "And I am not sure how you would look with a tan." She then stretches a bit before relaxing once more.
"Is a tan and a bestseller a bad thing?" The cultural touchstones there are often lost on Gisa; she gestures toward CB, then the coffee in the Keurig. "There is milk there and sugar for you to fix as you like. Do you want me to get rid of your headache?" With only other Lost in the bookstore, it's easy enough to offer such a thing. The golem turns and takes Amber's offered hand; Gisa's Mantle spreads around her, a strong Dawn presence, all petrichor and the smell of a match striking, the feeling of ozone and electricity as if to warn someone to get down, lighting is about to strike. Her hand, however, is smooth ceramic, and warm, rather the sensation of a cup of coffee wrapping around Amber's hand, rather than what normally happens, with people wrapping their hands around a cup of coffee. "Shalom aleichem, Amber. I am glad to meet you." A beat's pause, and she releases the other woman's hand as if this is what she has been taught very carefully. "Not unless you set them on fire," Gisa informs Angelica. "Is it unutual for you to be in a bookstore?"
"Yeah, hi," C.B. says to Amber, but she's already moved onto Gisa. "No one was talking about you." That's to Angelica, to whom he adds, "I don't tan, anyway. I burn. I look just like the lobsters my grandpappy used to catch off Kennebunkport." He smirks a little at Gisa, taking the coffee from the Keurig. "Thanks. Nah, it's fine. I'm fine. You go and do your hospitable thing." He takes this moment to drink his coffee -- black, black as pitch! -- and peruse some of the fiction books that are here, presuming there are some.
Amber's own hand is warm to the touch as well, though hardly likely to scald anyone to the touch, and she inclines her head deeply at the offered greeting before she too lets go. "Likewise. I take it this is your place?" She looks around thoughtfully, then back with a little grin, surprisingly girlish. "I do have a thing for bookshops. I suspect I may end up being a regular, if you're not careful." She does look back at CB then, certainly not having entirely forgotten him, and asks, "Since you're avoiding the morning news circuit, what sort of books do you write? If you don't mind my asking?"
Angelica grins to Gisa as she says "Quite the contrary. I tend to frequent almost everywhere in truth. I like to collect odd things." Very odd things in truth. Her attention the falls upon C.B. as she comments about not one talking about her and teases to him "Well I do like red on you." She then begins to look curiously over the books, seeking if anything pops out to her, she shops oddly after all. At Amber's question to C.B. she looks curiously to him.
A totally puzzled look comes across the golem's ceramic face, and the shin on her forehead flares yellow before settling again to the orange that's its standard sfgbk fdhsga48
A totally puzzled look comes across the golem's ceramic face, and the shin on her forehead flares yellow before settling again to the orange that's its standard color. "Why would I want to be careful so that you would not return? I value my regulars very much and it would be very good if you were one of them. I would be happy for that." Oh, Elementals. She folds her hands behind her back, stepping back. "There are several new novels out. I have the Mangoverse novels by Shira Glassman, if you want something from an independent author, though a lot of hers are online." This sort of generally to CB and Angelica.
C.B. glances up from the books and over at Amber. "Primarily fiction. Published novelist with another coming out this year. But I've published all sorts of shit. Essays, plays, poetry, whatever. It's called word diarrhea," he adds with a wry smirk, tapping his head as if to say, that's where the words come from! As he does, white-blue electricity crackles around his head like a halo. Gisa and Amber ain't the only Elementals in this joint. "But I'm not Jewish, so I don't think you'll find me in here." His smirk extends to Angelica and her comment about liking red on him. "Even in the face, huh? Fair enough. Well, lord knows I get red often enough. You don't even need to wait for sunbathing to see that." Heck, Angelica's already seen it. He starts to rove again as he drinks his coffee, nodding to Gisa. "Not much of a genre reader myself, though more power to you for supporting independent authors. And less power to her for putting stuff online, but that's just my bias." He ends up over at another bookshelf, leaning up against it as he asks Amber, "So, what's your story?" You'd think he writes those for a living or something.
Amber aahs softly, and flashes CB a quick grin. "Well, then I'll have to see what other bookstores I can poke my nose into on the way home. Just for a peek at your catalog." She then turns and blinks once at Gisa before breaking out in a rich, warm laugh. Reaching over, she gives Gisa's forearm a gentle squeeze as she offers, "I'm sorry -- please, forgive me. It's just a turn of phrase -- one of those idioms that doesn't quite mean what it literally seems to say. It's meant more to tease -- to note it may not just be the books bringing me back again." She gives the shorter woman another brief arm-squeeze before letting go, and turning her attention back to CB again at his question. "Depends on who you ask, but that's the truth for most stories, I imagine. Most of my time after...getting out...has been in New York and Chicago, before now; I needed a change of scenery, and was looking for someplace with a community that was more...intimate, I suppose is the best word. A place to make a difference." She shrugs, and wiggles her green-stained fingers briefly back and forth. "Which could just be me deluding myself as to what kind of difference I could make, but...a girl has to have dreams."
"As a Communist I thought you would be red all the time." Oh ho ho, Golem Humor. Gisa's hands unlink from behind her, and then she clasps her hands together in front of her. "Well, for indie authors, it is often a more accessible lifeline. Especially for some of the shorts she writes, which I enjoy. Knit One, Girl Two is one of my favorites, but it does not make so much sense profit-wise for her to release that as a physical book, which I understand. Anyway, how could I not like a story where one of the main crises is whether or not the girl is texting her back and whether or not she is shomer Shabbos, so should she be worried? It is very sweet." Gisa rolls her shoulders again, an easy gesture. When Amber is asked her story, Gisa tunes in, and then blinks a bit when she's touched -- her fiery eyes flicker off and then on again. Not used to being touched, but not moving away. She listens, attentively, her copper-wire hair snagging a bit on her shirt as she tilts her head.
"I guess Kip's store carries my books. Homepage Books," C.B. informs Amber, but not too seriously. He's not make a salesman's pitch here, just slouched against the wall drinking his coffee. Listening to go on, he nods, but his brow is furrowed, lips pressed together in a rather skeptical expression. "Uh huh. That's not vague or anything. Well...welcome to the neighborhood, I guess." To Gisa, he has to laugh aloud at the Communist joke. A hoarse, papery sort of laugh that shows his slightly crooked, nicotine-stained teeth. "Sure, I get where you're coming from. I just can't get into it myself, but I'm about as Luddite as you get. I write my shit on a typewriter and always will, you know?"
Amber shrugs faintly. "If you want to know something specific, then ask. Vague questions get vague answers, otherwise." If she's at all troubled by CB's skeptical look, it doesn't show in her own almost placid expression. Instead, she flashes a faint smile, and says, "I've been wondering who exactly is keeping the White Out people solvent."
"I understand. Some of us predate these things. I understand the way that she writes, too, and how she must do. It is nice that she has some things in paperback though. When she or other authors come through town, I do like to have signings." Settling back in to her chair, Gisa folds her bare feet up underneath herself. It isn't like there's earth here to put them on, after all. Another one of those rumbling laughs at Amber's White-Out joke. "Are you living here now?" she asks of the other muscular woman.
It's a lazy companionable kind of afternoon at the Jewish Bookstore, with CB leaning against one wall drinking coffee, Gisa in her favorite chair up front with books sitting by her, and Amber and Angelica having joined them. Errybody's just chilling and talking.
Angelica had gotten distracted over in the occult section and comes back with an arm full of books. A grin curls her lips as she says to Gisa "These seem super intriguing. I wanna add them to my collection. Means I need to try and convince Brick to build me a new bookcase. He is decent with making wooden things shockingly enough though like all of our furniture is vintage and from an estates sale we found just outside of town. And I think almost everything is cleaned up from the... rough housing Brick and his man were doing." A giggle th3e escapes her lips as she leans against the counter
C.B. also has to smirk at the White Out comment, though he adds, "More of a Liquid Paper guy myself. They didn't have Wite-Out in my day." After listening to Gisa again, he glances to Angelica and arches what seems to be an amused eyebrow, but then he actually lapses into silence. This in and of itself is a fairly rare occurence, just standing there with ankles crossed, drinking his coffee. Savor it.
Billy Ray makes his way in the door, finishing his conversation on the phone. Almost distractedly, as if by habit, his hand yanks down his NASCAR tshirt down over his exposed doublestack .45 and spare mags, hiding it a touch out of deference to the owner. "Uh huh. How much for a two pack? Uh huh. All wheel drive? Gas, hybrid? Aww man Mista Bob, ah hate t'tell ya but Mister William over at All Access ATV, he quoted me thirty one hunnerd onna a two pack a UTV Hybrids all wheel drive. Uh huh. Ayep, sure nuff. Uh huh. And ah want that there wireless on 'em too. OK. Y'all take care now." he says as he hangs up his phone and steps, in, looking left and right before he aims for Gisa. "Miss Gisa," he offers, "Ah'm hopin' y'can help me. Ah got a .. research project," he says, not recognizing the others around, "An' it may like, y'know, fall inside yer wheelhouse an' whatnots."
Amber quirks a brow at Angelica, then chuckles. "Very...enthusiastic, were they? Worst case, if he doesn't have the time, I'm sure we can get you a new bookcase in some other way." CB gets a broad grin to answer his liquid paper comment before she turns finally back to Gisa and nods. "I am, yes. Just finally got the place set up so I could move in a week or so ago; as much as I'm used to hotel living here and there, I was getting tired of doing it all in such a long stretch. Now I just have to wait until the new place really feels like home, but...with my own things there, hopefully that won't take too long."
Amber looks up then as the door opens, expression curious as she watches Billy Ray's entrance. She shifts a little, a step or two to the side away from Gisa in deference to 'business', it seems.
Angelica looks amused when C.B. goes silent, but lets him be to drink his coffee. Then will Billy Ray enter the rainbow haired enscrolled psychic smiles brightly as she excalims "Billy Ray. I hate seen you since my roomie Brick brought me over to learn how to shoot that pistol. The .22 Baretta I think it was, or was it in the Magnum? I still need to study them know before I actually know the difference. And what is the research project? Is it something I can help out with?" A grin is then given to Amber as she muses "When have you not known me to be enthusiastic since you met me love? And I am sure we can too. And your house is amazing Amber. You still need to take me swimming in that pool of yours."
"Oh goodness." Gisa's eyes light up when Angelica brings the huge pile of books her way, and she rises to go and start ringing them all up. A small smile to Amber: I heard you, it says, before she focuses back in on ringing Angelica up and pointing her attention toward Billy Ray as she does. "I would be more than happy to help you with your project, Billy Ray. Do you know CB, Amber and Angelica?" Introductions a go go!
C.B. drains his coffee and puts the cup on the counter. "I gotta go see a man about a dog about a cat about a bird about a worm," he mutters, maybe partially to himself, and wipes his hands on his jeans. He glances up suddenly when he hears his name, like he wasn't expecting anyone to notice him there. Blinks when he sees Billy Ray for the first time. "I heard something about guns," he says, his tone suggesting that that's a good thing.
"Ah don't. NIce t'meet ya, Mister CB, Miss Amber and Miss .. oh hey, ah do know ya!" B-Ray tells Angelica. "Ayup. Brick's Beretta - th' long barrel, five inch with the blue an' red pipin' an' the suppressor. He wanted it like th' crime movies, ah remember. Good weapon, good weapon. And y'know, Miss Angelica, ah'm openin' mah own business here pretty quick - gun range, firearms design and gunsmithin', archery, armor, ammunition - y'name it, wit' ranges out to a thousand yards an' tactical bays." he says. He offers his right hand to C.B. "Billy Ray Johnson, nice t'meet ya." The same to Amber. To Gisa he adds, "Lemme find it, Miss Gisa," he says post shake, reaching into his pockets. Keys, wallet, a pack of cigs, lighter, two knives, church key, receipts, and finally he finds a small 'Rite int he Rain' notebook he flips open to stab with a fingertip. "Here. Th' Bar Kokhba Revolt - ah bet ah jes' massacred that. Some fella named Simon ber Kokhba right? Anyway, ah think he hadda weapon - one that reportedly had 'lectricity as best they c'd reckon back in'tha fifth century. Ah'm hopin' y'can help me find out more. My library done ran outta ideas." Amber, C.B. Angelica all get new looking fresh business cards that read 'Hold My Beer, Inc' and a listing of the various options, phone number and email, website, and address outside of town.
Angelica gives C.B. a pouts before she murmurs "Are you needing to leave already? I was going to ask if you wanted to see my collection. Brick helped me rearrange it so that it is in the living room now. He convinced me that no one wants to steal my weird ass shit as he puts it." She looks intrigued as Billy Ray mentions his gun store and she asks "Are you hiring? Cause I am sooo sick of waitressing and much rather work with people I am more familar with. Some of the other waitresses are jealous cause I get good tips." Her hand grasping the business card and looking down to read over it.
"And I'm just waiting for you to have the time to come back by," Amber says to Angelica with an easy grin. She turns back toward Billy Ray then, listening thoughtfully before she takes the offered hand when it's her turn up at bat, so to speak. "Amber Watson. It's a pleasure, Mr. Johnson." She watches as he pulls out his notebook and starts looking for Gisa's help finding what he needs, and takes the opportunity to nod in CB's direction. "If you need to go," she murmurs. "It /was/ good to meet you. Hopefully we can trade some more stories next time around." Before she can say more, though, the business cards get offered around; she looks it over quickly, then pulls out a small metal case from inside her jacket and ends up offering three of them around in turn to Billy Ray, CB and Gisa: Watson Developments, New York * Chicago * New England.
C.B. shakes Billy Ray's hand, and a good enough shake he has for someone as reedy looking as him. "C.B. Alexander." The card is squinted at -- he doesn't have his glasses on -- and when he sees the name of the business, he just lets out a guffaw. "Oh, with a name like that, I'll have to utilize your services for sure." He tilts his head at Angelica and says, "Not leaving yet, but probably soon. Kinda jonesing. What kind of collection? Hey." He gives her a light little smack on the arm with the back of his hand. Mind is jumping all over the place right now, along with the conversation, and little sparks bzzt out of his ears. "If you need a job, why not work for yourself instead of a boss? I'm opening a workers' collective. Employees own and operate the joint." He nods to Amber when she says the bit about the stories. "Yeah, I..." Then he's squinting at her card. Ooh, he looks sour about this one. Eyes move back to Amber, brows raised, but he doesn't yet say anything about it.
The card is accepted from Amber, and Gisa offers her another small smile as she tucks it away, before giving Angelica her total. It's only them that she focuses back in on Billy Ray, and at the question he asks? The golem actually laughs, a flash of her diamond teeth -- she has diamond teeth? -- going along with that gesture. "The bar Kokba revolt? Yes, I can tell you all about that sometime, Billy Ray. I don't even need to look much up about it. It is funny that you ask about it, though, because," and here the golem grows more serious, more thoughtful, "We are coming up on Tisha B'Av." The humor drains from her expression, then. One doesn't laugh about such days, apparently. "A topic for another time."
"Yes'm, ah'd like that. Thank ya! It'll help," says B-Ray to Gisa, as polite as you'd be to any Southern grandmother. A grin at C.B., "Gimme a ring or the emails fella, or ah'm at th' Diner jes' bout every darn day an' night. And Miss Angelica, if'n you were willin' t'learn 'bout firearms an' carry one at th' store an' learn how to handle them safely, we could talk, but it'd likely involve customer service work an' whatnots." He examines the card from Amber, "Ah jes' leased a buncha land, Miss Amber, ah'll remember you when that lease comes up! Ah bet y'could drive th' price down good 'n proper."
Angelica muses to Amber "I'll have free time soon enough." Her attention is then back upon C.B. as she says "Oh I collect kinda morbid things. I forgot I didn;t show you the collection when you came over for lunch. I have some re-articulated animal skeletons, some disfigured babies animals in jars, some super out dated medical equipment that looks like it could double as torture devices and then weird books. Some my friends have sent from other countries to me so I keep em. Kinda why I know all the languages I do. And if you and nic-ficking we could have a cigarette outside. If you don't mind me snagging another one from you." Angie then offers her credit card to Gisa when the total is set, the diamond teeth make her grin a touch before she watches the humor drain from Gisa's face. The at B-Ray she muses "Like I don;t already do customer service? I can handle it and I kinda figured I would be a store clerk. Wipe down the glass, study the guns so when people ask what the perks are to them compared to another I actually can give them the facts, filing paperwork when people want tot purchase one. And other things like that. "
Amber once again seems to take CB's dour reaction in stride, but maybe she's used to that sort of thing. Billy Ray gets a slow grin, and she bows her head in agreement. "Oh, I bet I could at that. When things come back around and need to be renegotiated, give me a call." Angelica's listing of her current collection of oddities does drag her attention that way after a few moments, one brow lifting higher before she laughs low. "Oh, I knew you were full of all sorts of surprises after suggesting that french toast the other day. I just didn't realize what sort."
C.B. stuffs both cards away peevishly in his shirt pocket. "Morbid things," he says to Angelica. "Right. Yeah, I'm gonna go have a smoke. Come with if you want. But think about what i said. About the collective?" He seems annoyed about something; maybe because she completely ignored that bit. A hand is raised to the assembled. "Be right back, gotta take a few years off my life." The cigarette tucked behind his ear is placed between his lips as he stalks out.
Swiping the credit card, Gisa passes it back to Angelica, and a moment later, presents her with a receipt and a pen to sign, bagging up the books all the while. "We'll talk later," she assures Billy Ray, repeating her earlier words quite casually so for all that the mention of that particular holiday seemed to make her less cheerful. "Morbid?" This to Angelica. And then she shrugs, a vague wave to CB as he heads for the door.
Angelica grins to Amber and muses "I much rather be myself and shocking and keep someone on their toes. More fun that way." A wink then given to Amber before she looks to C.B. and looks worried about what he says and purses her lips. She decides to let him have the cigarette by himself instead of join him, moving to lean on Amber. Her hand takes back the card and slip it back into her satchel and then signs the reciept and commits "Well most think it is morbid."
Billy Ray waves to C.B., "Enjoy bubba," he calls to the other man as he begins to stow his items away back in his pockets - for all he says, it seems each random item has a place in his pockets. "Alrighty, ah'll let ya know when we get closer to hirin' an' all that," he tells Angelica with a grin.
Amber laughs softly, and lifts one hand to gently tease the curve of Angelica's ear as the woman leans in against her. "I certainly wasn't complaining, you know." She watches CB slip out for a smoke, then looks back at Billy Ray thoughtfully. "I don't suppose you do much work with more...antiquated sort of weapons? Less gunpowder, more steel on steel?"
Once the transaction is complete, Gisa meanders back to her chair, adding, "Thank you, Angelica," at the end of it. She curls back up in that chair, maybe she did that a pose ago but it's almost dinnertime and her player is a little tired. Anyway. The golem is content to be quiet and watch the interplay between others.
Angelica looks quite pleased at Billy Ray's response as she remains leaning against Amber. A giggle emits as Amber teases the curve of Angie's ear and murmurs "I am glad for that." She takes one of Amber's arms and wraps it around her waist and snuggles in close.
"Swords an' whatnot, Miss Amber?" asks B-Ray, "Yes'm. Ah got - goin' int'a th' new shop - a full metalworkin' shop an' gear. That ah can do." he confirms. "Lemme know some time, ah c'n surely help - ah'm tryin' to build my local business an' folks that were customers an' can speak to m'work ethic and whatnot."
Amber nods slowly to Billy Ray, and smiles brilliantly. "Fantastic. I've...well, Angelica has her collections, I have mine. I'll stop by in a few days, and we can start talking specifics." Speaking of Angelica, Amber looks only momentarily surprised as her arm is pulled around the other woman's waist, but she grins a beat later and tightens that embrace, long fingers splayed flat across her stomach.
Angelica smiles up at Amber as she says "And you need to show me your collection sometime. I like sharp things too. I just haven't started collecting those yet. Though I should in truth. And some I could use to just paint with. That is why there is loose canvas all over the spare room at my house right now. Paint dancing."
Billy Ray grins, "Fair 'nuff," he says from where he's talking to Amber and Angelica and Gisa. His phone goes off and he juggles items to answer it, waving to the two women and lastly to Gisa, "See y'all later!" he adds as he says into the phone, "Billy Ray. Uh huh. Thirty two fifty huh? That got some kinda warranty on it or whatnot? Ah dunno, he said four wheel was th' way t'go..." he says as he steps out.
Billy Ray leaves the bookstore, heading back to the street.
Amber gives a wave with her free hand as she watches Billy Ray make his way out, the other arm wrapped firmly around Angelica's waist as the colorfully-dressed woman leans against the taller one in the well-tailored suit. Once the door closes again, she smirks down at Angelica. "Maybe if you're /very/ good, I'll show you sooner than later. In the meantime...paint dancing? I don't know that I've ever heard of that."
Angelica waves to Billy Ray as he takes his leave before she looks back up at Amber as she giggles and muses "When am I not good hmmm? And it is just something I do when I need to just express myself a bit more. Normally I do it naked and just dip my hands into paint and sling it around. Brick calls it my coloring hurricane."
Sid stopped at the door having some wordes that were not unfriendly with Billy Ray as he was leaving which ended in a wry grin from the man in sunglasses who seemed to walk in with the same lazy swagger as he does everywhere. He was like a beautiful trainwreck or somethin. He called out to teh store as in greeting like one might play Marco Polo, "Heeeeey, bubbe," Walking in the Satyr paused and looked around. "Wait, it shabbat?" already?" He paused and checked his phone murmuring to himself, "How long was I there?!"
Amber grins even more, and leans her head down to whisper something briefly to Angelica. When she lifts her head again, she ahs softly and chuckles. "Very...primal, it sounds like. I like it." When the door opens again, she looks up curiously, watching Sid almost warily as he makes his way inside.
Angelica looks to Sid as he enters and her cheeks flush deeply as she goes into fan girl mode and says "Holy fuck! You are Sid!" She even goes into squeeing like a high school girl who just got asked to prom by her crush. At least the high note isn't off key? Then she blushes even more at something Amber whispers into her ear and causes her to bite upon her bottom lip before she murmurs back "It is fun to be primal sometimes. Just let your movements and passion create the art. I even do it blindfolded. More surreal when I look at it after I a done."
A moment or two after Sid, C.B. returns with his hands slung in pockets and his shoulders slumped. A cloud of cigarette smoke billows in after him. Eyebrows raise as he looks around at the changing landscape of people with some amusement. "Sid," he nods to the satyr as he moseys back inside. "Still alive? Good for you." So dry. Wandering back over to the Keurig, he looks to Gisa. "Mind if I grab another cup? The brain wheels could use a bit more greasin'."
Sid looked up from his phone almost startled by the sudden fangirl wave of 'eeeee!
Alonso steps out of the back room, singing to himself. His voice is actually quite good in a 'voice for the campfire at night' kind of way. "La Balanguera fila, fila. La Balanguera filarà..." He's even got a bit of a dance to his step, which is as careless as it can manage to be without knocking things off of the shelves. The presence of customers is something of an afterthought, though his dancing and singing both peter out once he's truly aware of the fact that there's company and secondarily just how many people the company is composed of. "Ah. Good evening."
"Coloring hurricane?" This is a belated question from Gisa. "If you wish to show your paintings here, I would be glad to show a few. Though I do not think that naked painting demonstrations would please the more frum of my clientele." But then Sid appears, and Gisa calls to him, "It is Shabbos tomorrow, bubbuleh! Come, say hello to your Bubbe." But then Alonso has arrived, and Gisa is, perhaps understandably, sidetracked. Her shin and her eyes flare, bright flames growing brighter and going to yellow, and then white. "Motek," she greets him, "This is Angelica, and Amber, and of course you know Sid. And lastly that is CB, who I told you about." Though she has summoned Sid for greetings, she stretches her hand out toward Alonso, and opens and closes it in simple grabby hand. Come heerrreee.
Sid looked up from his phone almost startled by the sudden fangirl wave of 'eeeee!' It wasn't even the look of someone who wasn't used to dealing with recognition, but he wasn't used to being recognized. After identifying the source he warmed a grin and chuckled, "Heeeey, sup. Yeah, I know right? It's crazy." he looked around for a moment like 'how the hell'd I escape Claifornia and chuckled to Angelica, To Alonso he asked, "Suuup, 'Lonso. Bubbe here?" TO CB he paused for a moment and tapped his temple and then grinned to him, "CB, sup brah?"
Sid waded over to Gisa who got a familiar hug and a kiss to each cheek. He murmured to her something that ended in a tilt of his head and a half grin. "Sweet. I'll ask again in five minutes but I think I got the names down. Busy night."
"Not much, my spastic friend, not much," is how C.B. answers Sid. When Gisa says she told Alonso about him, though, he moves a little closer to the pair. "Oh yeah? Nothing too fucked up, I hope." Most of the time, C.B. just assumes anything anyone would tell anybody would be about his writing. He squints in their direction and asks, "Did you tell me about him and I forgot? Bourbon can be a real bitch sometimes."
Angelica's attention looks to Alonso as he comes out singing and dancing with a grin as she responds "Good evening." Then to Gisa as she says "That would be awesome. I always need more commissions and I paint in a variety of styles. I'll bring some of the paintings by once I figure out which of them I want to display." Then back to Sid! "Yeah just... wow. I'm Angie. When is the next time you are doing a show? I would like kill to see it live!" Seems someone forgot she was already introduced due to omg fangirl mode.
At the new influx of people, coupled with Angelia's sudden fangirl mode, Amber withdraws slightly; she doesn't really go anywhere, but she slips more into 'loom and watch' mode, expression thoughtful. She does tip her head deeply in Alonso's direction as she's introduced, offering a throaty, "Pleasure to meet you."
"She is-- You found her." Alonso gestures Sid towards Gisa, all the same, though he offers the seated golem a smile and a dip of the head in acknowledged greeting. "Amber. Angelica. Pleased to make your acquaintance, likewise." He leaves it at that, though the hand over his chest implies there's some humility involved in him doing so. CB is the recipient of the greater portion of his attention, when all is said and done. "I believe she mentioned to me your interest was piqued by the fact that I was in Boston for an IWW meeting recently. She led me to believe you might be a comrade. Is this so?"
A kiss to each of Sid's cheeks in greeting, and the golem looks up at him from her seat with a rather soft expression on her face. Ironic, given that her face is, yanno, ceramic. "Thank you, bubbuleh. You are a good boy." Watch Sid implode at the ultimate bubbe compliment.
She pats his cheek, takes both of his hands, and squeezes them gently before letting go. "We will talk. You know I am here for you always." Then Gisa explains to the room, "Everyone, this is my grandson Sid, if you do not know him, which Angelica seems to very much. And of course this is Alonso Triste, my -- " Pause. "He is Alonso." She doesn't seem to have the proper title for whatever the Spaniard is to her, or maybe she just doesn't care to define it in a room of people who aren't entirely known to her. "Yes. You should talk with CB." She already said that, but she says it again.
C.B. leans his bony elbows on the counter and smiles over at Alonso, such as it is. He's not much of a smiler, but he can manage sometimes. Most of his attention is on the Spaniard as well. "Guilty as charged, I suppose. Former member of...well. Many, many parties. They were splitting off so fast by the end of my involvement, I could hardly keep up. Even tried to start one myself." He has to laugh a little at that. 'Youthful folly' would be an understatement. "Anyway. I'm still true to the cause, in my own way. I'm about to start a workers' collective here in town. If you or anyone else with a legitimate stake joined up, that would be pretty damn cool. I'm impressed that you're actively organizing." His brow furrows as he frowns, a spark or two flying out of his ears. "I've grown a little lax since I...well. Y'know. With the thing." And the being Taken. And all that good shit.
-> >> Sid to Here << <-===============================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 4 4 10 >
=========================-> >> Composure + Subterfuge No Flags << <-
Sid was, taken aback and not in a bad way but in that way that instantly make the Satyr very...wary...and somehow impresed upon to imagine what good behaviour he could possibly have been accused of and then try to replicat that as to not fuck up not being in trouble now. He was fairly certain this was reverse psychology, but he wasn't going to risk it. Somehow, SOMEHOW, the man with zero poker face sort of took this in stride. To Angie though he blinked and immediately dig out his phone letting out a held breath, while shakign his head gravely. With a ...he tried to ahve a serious expression and it passed for almost a whole second before offering to her, "Can't have that. Ann...geee..." He was jotting the memo into his phone, paused and shook his ead, "I won't be sober long enough between now tand then to know what this means. Lessee... yeah, this weekend should come by Club Carnivale. Bring a frined." He checked his phone and said "There's a charity thing on the 6th, so that one's a paid event, but this weekend we good." It was to CB after he admitted he's grown a little lax that the Satyr patted him on the shoulder. "Things happen."
"The CIA kept making messes of my good works," Alonso complains CB's way, either seriously or with such a deadpan expression that he wants it to be read as such. "I thought I might come and make a mess in their neck of the woods. If this country ever founded a true labor part of the workers, I think some real change could happen here. Organizing is never simple, but it is always worth it. Never being alone, you know? In any case, I would happily join your collective. Whatever support I can offer you, you shall have it." Alonso makes his way over to the keurig to get himself some brain juice. He sorts out the particulars, and waits for his cup to fill. "Anyhow. Organizing with a bunch of anarchists and socialists is a good way to steer clear of Them. They tend to eschew anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian collectivism for some reason."
Angelica smiles as Gisa introduces Sid as her grandson and giggles as it is pointed out that she knows the BMXer. At the talk of the Carnvicale she says "I'll be sure to come by, not sure who all I might bring yet but I look forward to it." She is still leaning against Amber for the time being, her stack of books from the occult section don't need to be rushed home after all.
-> >> Gisa to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 3 Successes
< 1 2 3 6 7 8 8 10 >
==================================-> >> Wits + Empathy 0-Again << <-
-> >> Sid to Here << <-===============================================
Rolled 0 Success
< 5 >
======================-> >> Manipulation + Subterfuge No Flags << <-
C.B. glances over at Sid, distracted. He didn't follow that part of the conversation -- too stuck on Alonso. Speaking of Alonso, C.B. is grinning like a loon now. It's not a common thing, but it's there in all his slightly crooked-teeth, nicotine-stained glory. "A man after my own fucking heart! Man, I fucking hate the CIA, AND the FBI. Don't get me started. Well, I'd be honored if you joined us. I really would. And if you ever want to get into the good kind of trouble together, I'm more than game. And don't get me started on Them, either. That's a whole different story altogether." The more worked up he gets, the more the sparks around him start flying. They never really get much further than his personal space, shorting out around his head and down his arms and hands.
There's another small flash of those diamond teeth as Gisa smiles at Sid's attempt at a poker face. He may fool others but he doesn't fool her. "Which day this weekend should people be coming to Club Carnivale, Sidney?" Gisa asks, folding her hands in her lap, and then she pauses as though her brain is catching up to her. "Motek, can you please make CB some coffee? He asked me but then Sid showed up and I got a bit distracted by saying hello."
Angelica's phone starts ringing. As she pulls it out and sees the number she says "Please excuse me, business call." And with that she is out the door and says "Angie's Artistries this is Angie speaking how can I help you?" And the rainbow haired enscrolled is gone.
Sid nodded to Angie and arched an eyebrow to Amber's occult book stack. "You know Madonna is full of crap and the Kabbalah will nooooot make you any better at pilates." He sighed looking to Gisa shaking his head, "It's like my youth was a lie and here I was hoping to be a yoga master and everything. Saddness." Never trust a Duck to be serious about much for too long. Since he had on his hangover sunglasses there was no wink but he gave her a half grin to let the woman know he wasn't at all serious. That done he wandered over and took a chair next to Gisa. "Busy busy week."
"Happy too," Alonso assures Gisa as he goes through the hideous ordeal of making a second cup using a keurig. How ever will he cope? He ends up carrying the first cup over to CB and offering it out, rather than making the man wait on the second cup. Because he's good like that. "When you think about it, there's quite a lot of practicality to collectivism within our community. Shared resources. Democratization of production and so on. Our little subculture, as it were, is ideally suited to this sort of business. There is no greater motivator for fair dealing than the risk of ostracision, after all. What greater censure can there be than being forced to live outside of the collective? There are some who would rather choose death, I warrant." Alonso takes his own cup of coffee and heads over towards a chair to find himself a seat.
"No, and Kabbalah shouldn't even be taught to someone under the age of forty. The brain isn't in the right place until then. Don't ask me how that works with time in Arcadia, I haven't gotten an answer back from the rabbi in Old Town." Because of course Gisa already asked a Lost rabbi. And of course there are Lost rabbis in Jerusalem. She stays in her chair, thoughtfully looking between the conversational companions. "Collectivism is in our culture to a great deal already. Freeholds are the embodiment of this, and on smaller scales, motleys. Honestly, a motley with other communist-minded or socialist-minded individuals would be one of the best things you could do for yourself, Alonso. Or we could do for ourselves." Her gaze flickers (literally because fire) toward Sid. "I did bring it up to Sidney but he had found himself a motley already with Lucky."
"Hey, thank you." C.B. acknowledges Alonso's noble sacrifice and accepts the offered cup. Hey, it's all for the cause, right? Sure. He nods as Alonso speaks, staring at the other man very seriously. The smoky silver in his blue eyes whirls and swirls. "I agree with you. For example, one of the things I want to offer at the collective is a bartering box for trifles and gewgaws. Even these simple things take a lot of sweat and tears for Lost to collect out in the Market. Why not collectivize this resource? Of course, my personal viewpoints extend to Freeholds." He folds his arms, though he keeps the coffee cup elevated. "I'm guessing there we differ. That's usually the case, and that's fine. Discussion and argument are essential elements of freedom, anyway." In fact, there's Gisa mentioning Freeholds right now. He bites his lip about that, but he does grin a little at the mention of the motley. "I wouldn't presume to inject myself into whatever alliances you already got going on, but sign me the fuck up for that!"
Sid grinned with a chuckle itching behind one horn. There was a chuckle of chagrin at the mention of him in a motley. "I don't know if I'd survive CB and Alonso in a gorup like that." There was an impish grin with no animosity to it. Hell that amused him. His nose wrinkled questioning that. "Me? In politics?"
"I have no motley," Gisa answers CB, shaking her head slightly, folding her hands across her stomach and looking sidelong at Alonso. "He and I have been together for a short while, and have considered a few people now and again for the possibility of a motley. Either they themselves already had various other plans, like our Sidney, or they didn't work out for certain ideological or personality reasons. In any case, we never actually got around to asking anyone." Which might make people curious who they considered, but the golem ain't saying. Her mouth curls up slightly in a bit of a smile. "I thought you might be interested," she admits to CB. "We should talk, yes. I think it would suit us." Her gaze slides to the side. "Sid, I suggested in part we make a motley because someone has to bring you bail money. There are all kinds of communal efforts. I am pleased that Lucky looks after you, truth." Then back to CB. "Are you intending to join the Freehold, or avoiding it? I am curious -- it isn't a dealbreaker."
C.B. glances over at Sid and gives him a nice sardonic smile. "Sometimes, you don't end up in politics. They end up in you." To Gisa, peering over the top of his coffee cup, he offers his viewpoints. "Alright, so. I'm not necessarily one hundred percent anti-Freehold. But I think if you have anarchist or libertarian-socialist tendencies, which I obviously do, they are problematic at best and feudalistic at worst. Like, I appreciate that they offer protection and mutual aid for their members. And I don't necessarily have anything against Pledges, though I have argued against them as well. I have trouble believing anything is absolute, you see. Even the Wyrd." And he has to grin at that, showing the crooked teeth again. "But then you get a Freehold like Fate's Harvest, which requires a /death/ Pledge. And yeah, I have a problem with that. I looked into it, I considered it, and I got angry when I learned of that aspect. I think it's extreme and encourages the possibility of Court tyranny," because he's also a Solstice Courtier, though he doesn't say that part aloud! "and it's really hard for me to throw my weight behind a Freehold that trusts its members so little, it puts their lives on the line. I've actually belonged to other Freeholds that were far more lax. Anyway, them's my two bits. Take 'em or leave 'em." Still grinning slightly, he helps himself to a big ol' swallow of coffee.
Sid grinned wider with a chuckle slouching into his seat, "I keep telling you I'm not like... Look, bubbe you know where I keep my liquid cash right? Use that." He looked to CB and tapped his nose and said "THe courts in a freehold are half as likely to collapse it because there's no common interest other than fear that holds most up. Not...for me. Maybe. Maybe again some day, I dunno. I'm working on trust in iotas. Also I don't need someone telling me who I can help and who I can't. My brain jsut doesn't...operate like that. And I respect their needs, I really do, but I can't subscribe to that. Someone needs help now? I'm gonna ducking help them, not let some cheery chasking dot muncher tell me they got beef with their world view. Naw, ya help people or you don't." The Blackbird shook his head and checked his phone. "Holy cheese I gots me a friend. Allo friend..." He looked to Gisa and said simply, "Inbound." To CB the Dusk shrugged. CB wants to preach futility? He was ALL on board in reason. He wasn't going to go as far as shitting on someone else's choices though.
"I do not necessarily disagree. But I think that if you are committed to the communal good, they are what we have, so we should make the best of them. The Wyrd has some very specific, somewhat outdated ideas of what the communal good might be, it seems, but it is what we have. So we make the best of it." Gisa rolls her shoulders easily. "I do not mind the death pledge. I have killed to protect us, I will die to protect us, and I feel that if you are not willing to put your life on the line for the common good -- generic you, this is not an indictment of you in particular, CB -- then generic-you is not someone that I want in my Freehold." She clicks her ceramic tongue against the roof of her mouth. "If you are willing to die for your fellows, then you are willing to die for your fellows." She sighs gently. "Here I am, Hope against the spirit of Change and the most fatalistic of satyrs." A slight nod to Sid at the 'inbound' comment. "Good. I am glad that people have been here today. The shop has been quiet." She's sitting in her favorite chair out in the shop, talking with Sid and Dielle. It's been only Lost the whole time, and she's been keeping an eye on the door as they talk Business. Alonso's sitting quietly listening, while Sid and CB and Gisa talk animatedly. Or, well, some of them are animated. Gisa isn't very animated but she's talking a lot.
"Fear is exactly the thing that makes Court tyranny possible in a Freehold, Sid," C.B. says with a smirk. "The more insecure the members are, the more likely they are to try and come out on top. I agree with you, otherwise. Why should there be some authority figure or figures telling you or me or anyone else what to fucking do? No one, that's who," and now he's frowning again, because damnit if this shit doesn't piss him off! He still manages to give Gisa a listen-to, although the coffee cup is thoroughly drained. "I'm at least as much for Desperation as I am for Change," he offers wryly. "Desperation pays those Glamour bills more, anyway, if you know what I mean. Anyhow. Gisa." He gestures to her with two thin-fingered, inkstained hands, albeit one of them still wrapped around the coffee cup. "I grok the death thing. I really do. I would happily die for a cause. But not for a cause led by a monarch. It's just really hard for me to swallow. What I'd like is to have a talk with the Wyrd about its outmoded ideas and see if I can't just change its damn fool mind." He smirks again and leans back in the chair I'll say he's finally ended up in, his messenger bag placed on the floor off to one side.
Dielle walks into the back of the bookstore, and offers Gisa a tiny little succulent in a bottle. "Hey, guys. Gisa. Hope you like this one, I named it The Beyonder." She's wearing a black tee with an adorable angry unicorn on it. The unicorn has a chain-saw strapped to it's horn and it's murdering a rainbow. "What's goin' on this evening?"
Sid promptly stood up and walks away from teh table to where the Keurig was avoiding that chunk of the discussion. Goodtime to check his phone. Great time in fact. Yup that chucnk of hte discion was nooooot for him. He got a coffee mug and poured something into it before putting the new kcup in and setting the thing to brew. "So why are we discussing the folly of man like it's new news?" He noted Dielle's shirt before Dielle from his hangover sunglasses and said "Aaaaah your shirt do you not know we do not-" He looked up from her chest to the waiting expression and paused. A hand waved dismissing the thought entirely, "Aw drown it you know already. I dont have to tell you." We do not discuss unicorn club. "Bubbe, as I am up and not at all put out, I assure you, can I get you anything?"
"I am so glad to see you," she greets her unicorn friend, and the golem means it. "Oh, Dee, this is awesome. Thank you so much. I will put The Beyonder with the others." Of course, many of the succulents are clustered around her chair, as if she had made herself a little throne or nest of them. Gisa gets to her feet, takes the succulent in a bottle, and finds it a home near her chair. "Sidney, I would like a coffee with a lot of cream and no sugar, please. Since you are up and not at all put out." The corners of her mouth twitch upward, and then she lets out a long breath, turning her attention back to CB. "It is what it is," she answers, with a fatalism more suited to a Dusk than a Dawn. Then again, that sort of fatalism is the flip side of hope, so it's probably not that surprising, is it? "You can't really change the Wyrd's mind. But you can keep those of us here in better shape by being part of what is. And change how we organize around the crown. For example, many places wouldn't give non-Seasonals a crack at the crown. Here, they do. And there is better organization here, more widespread, and less on Court lines, than I have seen in many places. So. Change can happen." Now she sounds more like a Dawn again.
-> >> Sid to Here << <-===============================================
Rolled 2 Successes
< 5 9 10 >
=========================-> >> Composure + Subterfuge No Flags << <-
-> >> Gisa to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 1 1 2 4 4 5 6 9 >
==================================-> >> Wits + Empathy 0-Again << <-
After a glance to her phone, to make sure that she's in the right place, Mina breezes through the door into a bookstore that is not her usual. The redhead is wearing a pair of dark wash jeans with wedge heels and a tanktop of black that laces up the back. She lifts a hand to brush some stray hair out of her face, hooking it behind a horn. Hoping that it will stay there. It will not. Blue eyes seek, but it's Sid's voice that leads her in the right direction, with a quick flash of smile.
C.B. offers Dielle a little wave. "Dielle. Looking muderous this evening." He himself is in worn jeans, construction boots, a worn Red Sox cap, and one of his favorite t-shirts with a red and black plaid shirt over it. "The day I stop discussing the folly of Man, or Lost, as it were, is the day I'm rolling over in my grave after one too many bourbons flip my car for good," C.B. deadpans at Sid. Paying attention to Gisa again, he shrugs. "Yeah, I get it. Fate's Harvest does some things that don't suck. Too bad about the things that do. When they get rid of that death pledge, call me. Maybe I'll join. And then see about getting things done by consensus." Boy, does he ever sound cynical about that. But he is surely distracted by the sudden appearance of Mina. He blinks over at her with wide eyes, a few sparks popping out of his head. Just a tiny flush of red appears on his cheekbones. Feeling a little stuck, maybe, he doesn't say hi to her right off the bat, but waits to see what she will do. He does smile at her, though. A teensy bit.
-> >> Sid to Here << <-===============================================
Rolled 1 Success
< 1 2 5 6 9 >
============================-> >> Resolve + Composure No Flags << <-
"Well, I am not hung up on the idea of you being part of the Freehold for a motley," Gisa continues, as if that is the end of the conversation as far as she's concerned. "As long as it's understood that there will be some things we can't talk with you about if that's the case." Easy peasy. Then there's Mina, and she hushes -- because they're in the store itself, and she has been keeping an eye on the door. It just so happens that Gisa's niche business in this atheistic state isn't so much 'the rare Jewish folk' but 'Lost.' Heh. "CB, this is your friend?" she asks.
Dielle waves back to CB, although he probably misses it. "Hey, CB. Feeling murderous, so it's all good. Hey, Sid." She finds a place to sit, although she takes off the cowboy boots so she can curl up on the sofa cushion. She's mostly quiet for the moment, because she wants to listen in and join the conversation properly, instead of interrupting it. Also, because watching CB's reaction to Mina is funny.
Sid was not a subtle guy. He called from the kitchenette, "No problemo.He kept up with the coffee. It's about halfway into CB's proclamation that he turns, leaving the coffee in the Keurig commenting casually, "Well at least you got a plan, CB." Observed fact only. Distracted he dug out a half pack of Kools from his pocket. He mumbled to Gisa with a smile, "Pot's brewing. Br right...back." Mina stopped him up short and he grimaced a smile asking her "Got a lighter?" And with that making his way outside for a moment while teh coffeepot ...well it was an instant Keurig. Who knows if he remembered how it worked or maybe the water cistern was heating up. That was the company he was waiting on apparently.
C.B. is somewhat distracted by Mina. That might be putting it mildly. For a moment or two, it's like there's a blinding light in his eyes. Then he shakes his head and blinks over at Gisa. "Uh...I mean, yeah, she's my friend, I guess I'd say, but I doubt she's here to see me." And that seems to be proven by Sid heading outside for a smoke, presumably with Mina in tow. Should she leave as well, C.B. might look a tad disappointed for a split second, though it quickly turns into his more usual brow-furrowed frown. "I'm still interested in your motley, Gisa," he finally tells the bookstore owner. "I'm glad you guys have an open mind about it. Another motley seemed interested in me too. I guess I'm real popular with not actually being in anything, but the idea of it being there." He has to smirk at that.
There he is. Mina's smile flares into brilliance, and she gives Sid an air-kiss to his cheek. "Sorry, I got distracted on the way here. And I don't have...wait." She fishes around in a back pocket, and pulls out a beaten white bic. "I do!" A look over to the gathered bunch, and C.B.'s reaction is not without notice. She waggles fingers to him, and everyone, raising brows at the question of being C.B.'s friend, and his response. She leaves him looking that tad disappointed - breezing back out with Sid, so he can have that smoke.
Sid spun on heel and held the held the door open for her stepping just outside getting the cig lit, none too soon, on the third try from the beaten white bic. he offered that to her as well as the pack before pocketing them.
Watching CB's reaction to Mina is funny. Even an Elemental notices these things, and Gisa is so clueless that Alonso had to use supernatural means to figure out if she would punch him if he kissed her, because she had no idea he was even interested. Magic. Anyway. Gisa watches CB's reaction, tilting her head to the side and looking sidelong at Dielle; her hand comes up to cover her mouth, fingers clicking against her lips, ceramic on ceramic. "I see," she tells CB about his incoming friend, and then outgoing friend. "Perhaps you or Sidney can introduce me when she returns." Her eyeflames flicker gently. "Well, if you are already joining one, then of course I don't want to interfere. But if that is not so, then we should sit down and hammer out a pledge. If the anarcho-socialists can handle a little structure." That's probably teasing.
Dielle returns Gisa's look. It's a very female thing, where volumes of amusement and comments seem to come through in one look. "Which other motley?" she asks, curiously.
Frowning, C.B. hunches over in his seat a little. He's maybe trying to ignore the fact that everyone is noticing the giveaway offered by his pale-ass Yankee coloring. Is it his fault that he colors as easily as he does? Is it?! "Her name is Mina," he finally says, raising his eyes to the other two women. "I didn't know she was friends with Sid." He almost sounds jealous...but that's impossible, right? What would he have to be jealous about? Back to the matter at hand..."Maddox and Leo have a motley, I believe, and maybe I'll join 'em. We discussed it, but only vaguely. 'Course, not all motleys even require pledges. I know I don't mind the idea of being in two, but Lost are so fucking absolutist about everything." He has to smirk. He may not like it, but it's also somewhat part and parcel with being Lost, so it strikes him as amusing.
Sid was working on that cig true to form glancing inside the window on occasion before letting her do the majority of the talking asking question here and there.
"Mina, indeed," Gisa replies, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands on her stomach again, fingers clicking against the backs of her hands. "I will be properly introduced to her when she returns, then." She listens to CB continue, and her eyebrows lift up, then drop again. It's pretty tough to know what her actual reaction is to any of what CB says, because, well, her face is literally a ceramic mask. "Hmm."
Dielle considers CB for a moment. "Does it ever get tiring, being so above it all and havin' to look down your nose at everything?" She doesn't sound judgemental, so much as that she's testing out attitudes that she may want to adopt and feeling them out.
Maybe 'friend' is a strong word for Sid and Mina's relationship. Whatever the conversation topic outside is, the redhead is talking animatedly, and looks upset about something. She even snags the cig out of his hand for a moment, and takes a puff from it. This results in her bending over in a coughing fit as she offers it back.
C.B. scrunches up his brow and regards Dielle as one might regard a particularly interesting bug. BUT, he's also smirking. So she can only be so much of a bug to the electric Wizened. "No, actually, it never gets tiring because I'm the only one up here. No one else lives up to my standards, y'know, so all the peanut butter up here is mine." Once again, it's completely dry and deadpan. Hmm, this is the time of the evening for the hip flask he carries in his pocket. He takes it out and raises it to Gisa. "Gisa, this being your store, do you mind if I have a tipple? Dielle drives me to drink." He does take a brief look over his shoulder at the door when he hears the sound of Mina coughing, and vague concern colors his features.
The flames that are the golem's eyes slide first to Dielle, and her head cants slightly toward her best-and-closest female friend, and then to CB. Lastly, they flick to Mina and Sid outside the shop. Gisa shakes her head a little bit at CB. "I drink wine in here all the time; it would be hypocritical for me to mind you drinking here." Her shoulders rise and fall like a mountain range.
"Hey, I'm doin' somethin' right, if I'm making you think enough that you need to start drinkin'!" says Dielle. She sounds utterly delighted. "Besides, strawberry milk is better than peanut butter, I'll stay in my non-rarified heights. Bein' up too high means not enough oxygen to the brain. The results show. So, how does bein' in more than one motley work? Is it like that like cheatin' or swingin'?"
"And bourbon is better than strawberry milk. Cheers, Gisa." C.B. raises the flask to her and takes a nice, long swig. "I don't really need you to start drinking, Dielle, but it sounded good. And I have no idea. I've never been in two motleys at once, I just like the sound of it. Maybe it could be more like polyamory, if you did things right." He considers her for a moment, one inkstained hand playing with his chapped lips. "You must know all about loss of oxygen to the brain, huh? Being a jock and all."
Sid took the cig back holding a hand out so Mina didn't tip over or she needed her hair held. VIce club 101: protect the hair and shoes! The wave of frustrated signs was met with his own thoughmost were some generalized agreement. Finally the last of the cog was finished and he blotted it out on the bottom of his shoe before tucking away the use end in a nearby trash. Apparently they were headed back inside.
Moving a sleepy Alonso.
A tip upwards of her chin when CB says 'cheers.' The shin on her forehead shimmers, a dark orange going almost red. golem tucks her feet up underneath herself, and leans to look out the window, peering to check on Sid. A few seconds later, Gisa gets up from her chair, and heads back to the Keurig to fetch herself her cup of coffee, doctoring it with lots of creamers, no sugar. All of that in silence except for the way her hands make click-click noises against the coffee cup.
Mina remembers how to breathe, after a few moments of coughing. But then there's a quirk of her lips, a few more gestures. And head back inside, that seems to be the plan, the redhead opening the door for Sid.
Dielle snickers. "Sweetheart, only eggheads think jocks lose oxygen to the brain and they're the people that should know better. Jocks /have/ to be able to not only breathe but get as much oxygen moving through our systems as possible. Which means that I probably get more than you." She spends a heartfelt moment wishing Jon were there, because he's both a jock AND an egghead. She glances at Gisa, concerned, and shakes her head. "Y'know, theres' nothing wrong with finding a group of people you want to be around and actually committing to them. I can do my best to understand this whole poly thing, but I have to admit, I don't get it."
She's referring to motleys more than anything else, though.
"I'll have you know I'm damn good at baseball," says the egghead in the Red Sox cap. "I'm a solid shortstop. If there was a local ball team that could stand my occasional coughing fits, I'd probably join up." C.B. sighs and stretches out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. "Nothing wrong with committing to more than one group, either. Actual polyamory isn't really my bag, though I notice the kids seem real into it these days." He rolls his eyes at this, hard. "I guess it's no worse than a bunch of flower children deciding they're all soul brothers because they've shared a joint and a few orgies together."
Sid held his hands up at Dielle's statement and laughed, "Dielle, if I could say thank you any more than that people'll mbe mistakin me for Alanis Morisette. You also left off fmastery of flash decision making do we don't end up a viggie in teh process." Entier the other two jocks from outside. An eyebrow raised to CB and teh Duck said objectivly, "Eeeeh I don't think they give a rat's mast about anyone else's opinion on their relationship unless they too are also IN it. I know I don't." He flashed a smile to CB and glanced to Mina and shook his head, Fianlly to CB he offered, "Hey, to be fair I think being forced to participate in any relationship is still illegal so if that's not your thing you are safe."
Quietly fiddling with the Keurig, Gisa queries, "Does anyone else want coffee, or need more?" As Mina follows Sid back in, the golem finally greets, "I hear you are Mina. I am Gisa Cohen. It is good to meet you." She doctors her own coffee, takes a long sip. It's as much creamer as it is coffee at this point, but that seems to be exactly her preference, so, great?
There's a sudden, gasping cough from Mina. The timing is surely just coincidence, as it comes after C.B.'s musings on polyamory. "Sorry," she gasps, "I'm still working on that whole oxygen thing." A quick flash of a smile, there. Blue eyes shift towards the golem, and there's a shake of head that frees all the hair she had so hopefully tucked behind ears and horns. Back in her face it goes. "I am," she offers, brightly. "Mina Grey. It is good to meet you, Gisa. This is a lovely little shop, and a nice place beyond that. I'll decline on the coffee, though. I'll never get sleep, if I partake now." Her smile makes her eyes crinkle at the corners.
Dielle says, "Hey, Mina. I'm Dielle. You're welcome, Sid. You've got a good point about the decision-making." Dee takes a breath and says, "No thanks, Gisa. I'm good. And I actually don't care about who sleeps with whom, except as gossip. I only care about one relationship and tha's mine. I'm still tryin' to wrap my mind around bein' in two motleys. Don't seem like a good idea: too many conflicting pledges."
C.B.'s head flops back as the door opens and the other two come in. "Let's hope there's no forced participation anywhere," he says, smirking at Sid. His blue eyes trail over to Mina, widening a tad as she coughs again. "Mina," he finally says. "Good to see you again." He drinks from his flask and closes his eyes for a moment. Sometimes he has these quiet little moments, where it seems like the buzz from his brain is just too loud and he needs a break. There are a lot of sparks flying around right now, actually. Started right after Mina came in. Surely another coincidence!
"I would not know, in either case. I am monogamous by nature, I have discovered." Gisa stays pretty quiet on the overall, not in the debate. She nods to Mina's deferral, and smiles just a little at the compliments. "I appreciate your compliment, Mina Grey. It is good to make your acquaintance. You are friends with my grandson?" This with a gesture of her cup toward Sid as she trundles back to her chair and settles in.
Sid gestured from Mina to Gisa and back. As if 'and there you go'. See? Introductions made simple. He furrowed his brow to Dielle remarking, "Yeah I'm pretty certain cult abductions went out years ago." To Gisa he cracked a grin and said "In spite of what you all might say about me, yes sometimes I enjoy respectable company in the peerage, thank you." Though there was a humor to it. To Dielle though he asked, "It's not that hard really but it does challenge us to look at our choices and weigh important things withthe respect they deserve. Do I have a pledge to my family?" He gestured to Gisa, "Certainly. Also to my people. My entitlement. And also my motley. Replace any of those words with another a proise is a promise is a promise. You just can't make a promis that won't let you keep your other ones. Hence...why I generally avoid Freeholds. My last one was more of a three-in-one so that worked out."
"Dielle," Mina greets, turning her smile towards the rainbow-killer. Her eyes move back to C.B., watching those sparks with a certain sort of curiosity, before Gisa's and Sid's words make her chuckle. "I'm not sure that I qualify as respectable company these days, given the givens, but I do at least try to be good company, if not the patron saint of good choices." A gesture to her horns, as if that should explain it all. "And yes, we all find ourselves in a web of pledges and promises. I can see two motleys working out, if one is careful. If you're not keeping one from the other, only for Motley A to find out about Motley B in gossip." Blue eyes shift back to C.B., then, and her voice hets a tiny bit of a purr to it as she muses, "Good to see you, too."
C.B. opens one blue-silver eye -- it focuses on Mina straightaway. "Glad you support my slutty motley plan," he says with a smirk. Then he glances at his wrist, pushing his flannel shirt aside. "God, what time is it? Fuck, I gotta get back to work soon." He doesn't seem in a huge hurry to go yet, though. He closes his eyes again and bangs his head against the back of the chair, lightly. This may be a shortcut way to kickstart frazzled, zapped writerbrain.
Dielle just smiles and shakes her head a little. There's something in that argument that doesn't quite jive with her, but she can't pinpoint what it is, so she doesn't argue the point. Well, Sid's argument. She lifts one hand to her mouth and chews on the skin around the nail, maybe getting rid of a hangnail. Or just biting her nails. It's anyone's guess.
Sid shrugged and retired to teh chair that was the one he always seemed to find and slouched into it gesturing to another and offering, "Mina, sit a wahile, enjoy teh inevitable strangeness. Really I don't see why a motley pledge is any more sacred than other pledges. A promise is a promise is a promise no matter how you cut it. Word is law. Sometimes... eh it's all we got. What we do with every promise counts."
"You can be respectable if you choose to do so, Sidney," Gisa answers, mildly, and settles in to her chair with her hands around her coffee. The conversation flows around her and she seems content enough. "I do not know that I think a motley pledge is any more sacred than any other. My relationship with Alonso is not more sacred than my relationship with you, Sidney. We are different kinds of family. But even as adroit as I am at writing and auditing pledges, I cannot imagine trying to balance a pledge with Alonso with a different motley pledge, or ... polyamory. It may be for others, but it is not for me." That's the most she's said since the conversation went to polyamory and pledges, and she hushes up again.
Dielle gets up and puts her boots back on. She's still looking as though she's chewing on the whole thing. She nods vigorously at what Gisa says and then, just as she's opening her mouth to voice an opinion, a bit of "You're Welcome" comes out of her phone. Specifically, "Hey, it's ok, it's ok, you're welcome. I'm just an ordinary demi-guy!" "Ooops. I have to take this," says Dielle, but her whole face seems to light up. She waves at everyone and kisses Gisa's cheek before putting the phone to her face as she walks out. "Hey, Baller. Please tell me no one cracked your ass the other way in the game," can be heard as she walks out the door.
"Already?," Mina asks when C.B. says that he has to leave soon. Watching him for a moment, before there's an offer of seat from Sid. It's taken, the dancer moving with a quiet grace and a certain boneless nature as she slides into it. Maybe it comes from extended period living as a flower. "Word, and action, is really all we have in the end," she agrees with a nod, legs crossing and hands folding in her lap. "It's not for everyone," she agrees with Gisa, on the subject of polyamory, most likely. "But that's the case for any relationship, really. Love isn't for everyone. Friends-with-benefits isn't for everyone. The spectrum of relationships is...all over the place." Says the succubus. A lift of hand, a wave, to Dielle as she makes to leave.
C.B. sits up in the chair, suddenly zotted awake by a jolt of white lightning through his ears. Both eyes are well open now. He must have caught what Gisa said, because he leans forward with a serious face, long fingers intertwined in his lap. "Not all motleys even have pledges, Gisa. Believe it or not. For the record -- I know you were talking to Sid, here, but -- " Since when has that stopped C.B. from interjecting? "-- it's not super-likely I'd end up being in two. I just felt like I had to get that other one out on the table for you, since I'd talked to those guys first. I get excited, especially about causes. And those guys have one, too. I wonder if it would be yours and Alonso's bag." He tilts his head and squints at her, like he's considering it, then shrugs. "Anyway." Attention goes to Mina next. There's a small smile there. "Yeah. Deadlines and stuff, y'know." His words, amazingly, die when she starts talking about relationships, and he bites his bottom lip instead.
Sid shrugged and rubbed his fingers on his forehead giving his grandmother's words a listen and finding agreement. "Then do not. As for relationships? PPffffft I'm the worst person to ask. I stopped askign for anyhitng for myself forever ago, but if you are happy than whatever you are doing you are doing correctly for you and that? That is important. That is the right thing for you and all the worlds unhappy opinions can continue to not matter in the wake of your contentedness." Dielle got a wave of fingers but not a conversational interrupt. On the subject of relationships Sid gestured to Mina deferring to her insights on that. "But yeah I was just saying all promises and pledges are important. The causes? Also important. I dunno about your bigger causes. I'm too much of a one-on-one kinda guy to lose sleep over the masses, but hey, someone's gotta do it, CB. more power to you."
"Exactly so," Gisa grees with Mina, simply enough. "I have been back for almost ninety years. I know what works for me, and what does not." The flames in her eyepits flicker and snap. "That is why I was single for a very, very long time." She rolls her shoulders easily. "It was one of the first conversations I had with Alonso, and he said, and I quote, 'that is the difference between personal and private property.'" Now watch as the flames in her eyepits actually manage to roll. They focus next on CB, and she is clearly trying to think her way all the way through everything he says. "What is their cause? Is that what you mean by bag? YOu wonder if their cause is also our bag?"
There's a look, a hint of amusement, from Mina at Sid's own musings on relationships. It's an understanding sort of thing, that goes with the pat to his knee. But the succuflower stays quiet for a moment, before she gives a nod to C.B. "Of course. Things to write, sleep to not get," she says with a quick flicker of a smile. "I should head off soon, myself. The sun rises early, still, and there's always so much to do in a day."
"So you're basically selfish, but you know it. More power to you too, kid," C.B. says to Sid, but with a big grin -- big for him, anyway -- to show that he's kidding. Since people can't always seem to tell...he has to laugh a little, mostly silently, when Gisa relates the 'personal and private property' anecdote. That's a funny socialist joke, for sure. Once he gets a hold of himself again (which means drinking more bourbon) he says, "I don't know how public they are about it, truth be told. Not like I made a pledge or anything, but I should probably ask first. See who they want told. Lord knows my big fucking mouth gets me into enough trouble as it is." He rolls his eyes at himself. Then his gaze shoots right over to Mina. "Hey, uh -- I could drive or walk you home, if you want? You know, if you'd like some company."
Sid shrugged to CB and chuckled, "Maybe I am. What can I say, A Blackbird's been called worse. What DO we do what we do? It's got a trade off and a reason. You are welcome to go and define me as you will because everyone else does, man. If it's what you need right on." He wasn't even one to fight it. People make their own decisions in the end anyways, why fight them on it. To Mina an eyebrow arched over his sunglasses, not ungrateful for the gesture, "Hell if you want to stay up and find new bad life choices I'm game. Derosiers is still open, or I can give you a lift if you want. We can reschedule too. I respect your call." It's lamost a wonder if anything got him much worked up truly. Dusks were funny like that; angry to the point of eeeeh fuck it.
Mina's blue eyes flicker between C.B. and Sid, back and forth between the two of them. "Any other night, Ceebee, and I'd take you up on that offer. But I did promise Sid a drink and some chatting, and, well. Considering all this time we've spent talking about our words..." She trails off, dipping her head and then rising up to her feet. "Derosiers it is. I'm in the mood for some bourbon." That last, likely, aimed towards Sid.
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