Log:Whine About Winning

Whine About Winning
"I -want- to go to Arcadia, Florida. I don't /care/ if everyone thinks that place sucks. -Fuuuuck- them."
Participants Haruki, Franklyn, & Green	3 July, 2017 Vermont's Cutest Magician and Her Royal Majesty share their very valid concerns on a too-good-to-be-true prize with their friend, who's just a Really Big Bitch about it.
Location The Green Door Theatre - Foyer Bar & Cafe
Haruki's sent a message in order to meet with both Green and Franklyn, whenever's okay with them. And so here he is now, at the time and place suggested. Mid-afternoon at The Green Door: lunch is over, so the mums'n'babies sing along hour is long gone - leaving the foyer bar/cafe empty of almost all activity. There is an usher tidying up over there, and a bored girl checking her phone at reception -- Franklyn is paying neither of them any mind. She's sitting at the bar, a battered laptop in front of her, dressed in a oh-so-boho dress of gauzy olive n' gold with a few ruffles on the long sleeves, and a skirt that reaches the floor. Frank may be working, but... She sips from a glass of white wine. A small one. Just a touch. It's a beautiful day! Who doesn't want a cool drink, while they wait for friends? And Frank is waiting -- looking up now and then, vaguely expecting other's too arrive at... Some point. And there's Haruki! A hand is lifted, and Frankly waves him over; charms of her bracelets jingling musically. "What, no puff of smoke?" Bag magician jab over, she gestures to the bar. "Can I get you anything?" It's not even 4pm! Must be an off day. Or something. Because when Amanda Green arrives, she's looking not exactly her normal self. See the short-shorts, and the long-sleeved tee, white on black stripes. She's even in a pair of old black Chucks. What is going on here? Whatever is going on, Green arrives, with a small handbag slung across her body. Her smile is faintly present. Her make up done subtly. Her hair down and delicately managed. "Hel-lo," she declares, as she enters. There's a look about before she finds her targets and moves forward. "Loves, all right?" she asks. "I'd murder a white wine," she says, her smile going a bit sweeter as she lays that request? to Franklyn. "Didn't know if you had sprinklers," Haruki says, moving over to where she is. "Fire safety comes first, you know. Can't arrive in a puff of smoke these days, it just causes too much problems. Much better to use the door." He looks her up and down and smiles. "I love that dress." He looks at the bar. "Water will be fine." He's boring in his choice of drinks. He smiles at Green as she enters. "All great. I read your article in the newspaper. The one about that party?" He looks around to see who might be listening in. Franklyn starts to grin as she listens to Haruki - moving to push her laptop away, and lift the white wine glass up to sip away merrily. A hand is lifted to beckon the usher over and get the kid some water, and the young chap goes about it tout suite - while Franklyn chimes to the Magician, "Do you know how adorable you are? I swear on my grandma's sewing kit, you are like /too/ much. What's your secret?" Before Frank can grill him any further, she's turning and clocking in on Green -- giving her a quick once-over that boarders either concern or criticism. Hard to tell, because a split second later she's smiling and waving for the now named Asher Barmann, usher-gone-barkeep, to get another glass o' fair booze. "C'mon then, the both of you -- come gather 'round mama Garreau and spin me a tale. I want to know /everything/. What's happening?" Without any objection, Green does go 'roun' ol' mama Garreau. She slips right into the stool beside the woman, avoiding any real greeting (and all physical contact) as she moves to be near her friends. She sits, straight back, heels on the cross bar, knees together. Perfectly poised. "Did you enjoy?" Green asks Haruki. "Was sort of silly, I admit. Being that it was a message to a woman I see regularly. But... Well. I'll not pass a chance to write about Franklyn," she says, with a sweet smile. She looks aside. "Nothing since we last spoke, for me," she says, to the other woman. Haruki blushes a bit at Franklyn's praise, gaze dipping down. "Thanks. I'd have to say, magic, of course. But then it wouldn't be a secret at all, would it?" He does indeed gather around, taking a seat. Green is smiled at. "It was excellent. I think I got an invite to that party too, which was odd," he admits. "I was wondering what it was like." And then to Franklyn. "You're not taking that prize, are you? It seems super suspicious. A trip to a place that doesn't exist, from a strange man, at a mysterious party." Franklyn plays the part of Crunchy Granola Glowing Earth-mother well; opening her arms to beckon her lil' babies to sit close with an expression of faux-smug benevolence. Behind her, Asher Barmann rolls his eyes discreetly and places a glass of water near Haruki and a very large glass of white wine by Green. Beware: it's that Moontide Swill. Garreau's can do a lot of things - but they cannot bottle fine wines. Folk settled by her, Frank gives Green a swift, curious look - then smiles sheepishly at the mention of the article. Genuine? Put on? It lasts only a moment, because she's turning to face Haruki - expression blandly interested, and then a little shocked: brow knit, head tilted as she leans back. "What are you talking about?" Wine glass is placed down, and Frank moves to slowly lower the screen of the laptop and snap it close. The glass glints; the text on screen is all some texts; says something about the Feldman Institute. "It's just a car and a trip to Florida -- what's so strange about that?" Franklyn laughs, shrugging a shoulder as she reaches for her wine again, "Cheesy? Possibly. But suspicious? /Really/?..." She looks to Green, as if for reassurance -- then her expression shifts again, into a grin. "You seemed chummy with Herr Feldman, eh? Go ahead, tell our magic buddy here what's what." Green gives a nod to Haruki. He's already agreeing. Which means when Franklyn looks to her for support, well. She offers only a tight smile before she reaches for her glass of wine and takes a little sip. Then blinks a few times. "Oh, blimey, that-..." She eyes the wine, and clears her throat. "-Is technically what I ordered. Thank you," she says, flashing Asher a smile that probably looks real but, in context, is assuredly not. Green's attention is back on Franklyn, and she eyes the woman. "I wrote in the paper how awful an idea it is, Franklyn," Green huffs out. She looks aside to Haruki, and squints at the man. "Have you ever been to Arcadia, Haruki?" she asks. And, oh, the look she swears on her face. Franklyn would know it. It's called 'I'm critiquing you and making it obvious for a reasons.' "It's suspicious, don't you think?" Haruki asks. "Like really, really suspicious. Why did he pick to invite those he did? Then he tested you for psychic powers. And now he wants to send you somewhere no one's heard of to some backwater town in Florida. That seems like the sort of trip that'd end you up in a testing facility with probes in your brain. People don't just give things away for free. I know I never entered a contest to get my invite. What's he getting out of it? What's his motivations? And of all the places, why Arcadia?" He shakes his head at Green. "No, but I googled it. It seems an odd choice of place to send someone." -> >> Haruki to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 2 Successes < 1 3 3 5 6 7 8 9 > ===========================-> >> Presence + Subterfuge [9-Again] << <- -> >> Green to Here << <-============================================= Rolled 3 Successes < 1 1 2 3 4 4 5 5 6 9 10 10 > ===============================-> >> Wits + Subterfuge [9-Again] << <- -> >> Franklyn to Here << <-========================================== Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success. < 3 3 3 5 5 8 9 10 10 10 > ===============================-> >> Wits + Subterfuge [9-Again] << <- Haruki knows more about 'Arcadia' than he's saying. Definitely. There was a hesitation, a glance away, and he tried to pretend that this is all very casual, but there's something else he's holding back. Franklyn's personable grin does a backflip into a pouty frown as she realises Green is not going to one-hundred-and-eight percent have her back. Deep breath melts into a sigh, which then does a drastic u-turn into 'oh no he didn't' territory as Green's gets a taste of the Garreau's sour grapes. "Asher!" She's looking over her shoulder, waving a hand in the air. Franky is not an easy woman to work for. "Not the house white! Bring the Dellchen Riesling." So Frank misses a bit about Green saying 'awful idea it is', but comes back to focus on her friends right about the time Green asks Haruki That Question. Arcadia. Why do people keep using that -word-, and getting all ‘’’weird’’’. She looks to the region's cutest magician for an explanation. Somewhere, around about the time Haruki says 'probes in your brain', the affable scrutiny takes a nose dive, and Frank's eyes get like little jade daggers as she gives him a -sharp- look: watching him speak with icy interest. She, like Green, is critiquing Haruki - it's just probably for different reasons. Why so offended? "...Oh, oh you, 'googled' it, did you?" Air quotes, they happen. Mean voice continues; "Haruki, there aren't any barrels here, so don't try and fuck me over one. Maybe I am super lucky, but you're not the first person to try and piss on my 'I won!' parade. So. What -are- you talking about?" Now, Haruki could have said just about anything here. It doesn't matter. Green's not actually listening. What she's doing is watching, and waiting, and when she finds the sign she was looking for, she offers the man only a smile. A sincere, warm, loving smile. Or, well, as sincere as Green gets. The little Brit then looks over, at her friend, and her brows furrow. "Alright, Franklyn," she says. "As much as we all-" Green especially "-love the idea of bending you over and fucking you,-" And yes, that just came out of her infinitely polite and proper mouth, "-Haruki doesn't need some special realize to realize what a rubbish idea this is. At best you're going to end up getting charged a few thousand dollars for the worst vacation ever had. More realistically, sold into sex slavery. And on the far end of proper fucked, you are going to get bent over and things shoved into you. Because there are people that believe in psychic powers, and will crack skulls open to unlock them," she says. And yes. Green is annoyed. Haruki shrinks down a bit as the mean voice emerges. He looks hurt, and worried too. He stares at his water, and sips it. "You're my friend," he tells Franklyn. "I'm just worried, that's all." He does blush a bit about the fucking over a barrel. "Gay." He comments. "And the barrel's going to roll. Unless it's upright I guess. And if you can fuck someone over a barrel until they shoot fish in it..." his mind's wandering a bit. Focus. "Yeah. At best it's a scam that you'll need to pay for, like the Nigerian Princes and the calls from Microsoft Windows. Or like Oprah's car giveaway where you need to pay so much taxes on it it ends up costing more than you actually get." He nods when Green says that about people with psychic powers. He's looking worried. Franklyn huffs, and she puffs, and she takes her wine glass and finishes the contents in one sip, before managing keep herself from throwing it on the ground in front of them all. Really. Keen eyes would catch that little wiggle of furious hesitation, before the glass is carefully placed back on the bar. Asher Barmann silently glides up, puts a glass of Riesling in front of Green to replace that awful Moontide, then glides off again before Franklyn can make another request. Arms folded, Franklyn sucks in on her cheeks as she listens to Green - eyes darting over to Haruki now and then. That flair of grumpy fire is dying down, as she listens to her two companions each in turn. Green? Gets a sulky, petulant look of defeat. Haruki? Eventually makes her laugh, in spite of herself. Nose wrinkled, she sighs sharply and glances towards the ceiling. "...Fine. If you Debby Downers are -sooo- adamant there's something fishy, I will make sure to double check everything and--..." She stops, scrunches up her face, then narrows her eyes. "No. You're -both- going to /help me/ double check everything, because if there /is/ some kind off fucked up scam bull shit sex trafficking money laundering nightmare going down, we have a -duty- to uncover the /truth/. Do you understand?" Frank's not quite picked up on that whole 'crack skulls to unlock them' risk thing, has she? Green looks aside, to Haruki, and offers him an encouraging smile. Entirely at odds with her just just brow-beating Franklyn. What are emotions if not fleeting? Green refocuses on Franklyn, and she watches, smiling lovingly as her friend goes through those dramatic stages. Really, it's the five stages of brief, done in fifteen seconds. Frank should win an award. "I wrote about it in the blood paper, Franklyn," Green huffs out. "Do you think I did not research that before it went to press? I'm not Enid," she mutters. "But if you wish to spend long hours, side-by-side, snuggled in front of a computer screen, while we read every single thing Lexis Nexis has on Herr Feldman and his Institute, well. That... actually sounds like my perfect date," she says. Smile! Haruki nods at Franklyn. "Okay." Then he asks. "I'll help. Just tell me what you want me to do." He fiddles with his phone for a few minutes. "Oprah Winfrey gave people cars and it cost them $7,000 each, even after she paid for the cars themselves, and the car company paid all the other duties and things. And you don't get more above board than Oprah, do you? In Survivor they gave away trucks too, and those who won it couldn't afford to pay taxes and they got repossessed. That's like big tv show. And I'm sure there's more." He smiles. "Sounds like I'd be in the way there. Wait, an institute? What sort of institute?" Franklyn has a lot of feelings, okay!? The one she's subjecting everyone to at the moment is: scheming. Elbow propping her up as she leans her back up against the bar, she hmmms and gives Green an appraising look. "There's gotta be more than what meets the eye -- you found it out was Florida, which sounds like it'd be filled with mosquitos and orchids that make you hallucinate for days. But? I swear, I've never had so many people be such total /shit heels/ about me winning something. Like, oooohmygod; yeah I'm lucky, get over it? It's just a stupid fuckin' prize..." She pauses for a second, then lifts her chin in the air. "I -want- to go to Arcadia, Florida. I don't /care/ if everyone thinks that place sucks. -Fuuuuck- them." So many feelings. Girl needs mood stabilisers. A glance to Haruki. Frank is bamboozled by the Oprah references, so she latches onto what she can follow: "You ever been inna reference library? Well, you can read - there's bound to be information, or like, people you can call up and ask and-- you ever do like, social engineering as part of a Mentalist act, or do you mostly stick to sleight of hand?" Pry, pry, pry. "Feldman Institute is the company who like, organised the prize." A side-glance to Green. "...Amanda knows them, isn't that right?" Pry. Pry. Prrrrry. Green just stares at Franklyn. Who's had enough of Franklyn's shit? Green has. And she lets it show on her face. With a put-upon sigh, she looks over to Haruki. "If you ever want her to stop asking you questions, just say something like... 'Franklyn, I'd be happy to answer all your questions. But I need you to promise me...' and really, you can say anything after that. She's allergic to commitment," she tells Haruki. With that said, Green slides off her stool, and ignores the corrected glass of wine. She looks back, to Franklyn. "You want to know why everyone is so sour? You know how to get the information you need," she says to the woman, her gaze entirely unamused. It lingers there a moment, then she looks to Haruki. "Thank you, for the invite, love," she says, smiling warmly at him. As if she hadn't just been so... well. Mean. "I've got to get back to the shop," she lies. "If you need a ride anywhere, I could take you?" she offers. Nevermind that she walked over. "Is it definitely Arcadia, Florida?" Haruki asks. "Is that what it said?" He shakes his head. "I don't do mentalism. I do understand social engineering though. It's hacking systems using social skills instead of a computer. You just phone up, and talk people into giving you the information you need, lying if you need to. Or bullshitting your way past a front desk, or whatever." He smiles at Green's allergic to commitment comment, and nods. "No, I'm ok." He considers Green's offer. "Is the theatre named after you?" Wait no that's not what he meant to say. "Yeah, I think maybe best I get going too. It was lovely seeing you again, Franklyn. Sorry to rain on your parade. Just worried." The petulant Fool named Franklyn blinks once, mouth falling open in shock - nay, disbelief! - as Green reaches the end of her tether with all Frank's bullshit. Hand pressed to her chest with insult, there's the smallest of gasps before she attempts to compose her stung pride -- watching Green with an expression which is, underneath the faux-outrage, genuinely embarrassed and progressively more serious. "...Mmm." But no apology comes, she just watches the two as they get ready. "Totally correct..." Franklyn says to Haruki, putting on a very put on smile, as she starts waving and flouncing and moving to stand herself - laptop taken in her arms. "Totally, totally correct -- keep that in mind. If you're any good? Who knows! I'd love to find a part for you, if we need to wheedle out some more like, information..." Side-glance to Green, then back to the Magician. Then he asks that question about the theatre name. Frank's smile? Gets fixed. Eyes wide. It's like she's just remembered she left the stove on or something, but doesn't want to be rude and scream. "...Thank you all for showing such, like, interest and care for me. I really appreciate it, I do. I do. Be safe, drive well, see me again soon, yeah?" And there Frank stands, stock still and staring, watching them make their exit stage left. Not another word comes out of Amanda Green. Nor does she glance back, over her shoulder. She just leaves. "I'm Japanese," Haruki says. "We're really good at maths and fixing computers and ninja skills." Yeah he's lying there. "I can totally go fix their computers and then ninja into any room I'm not meant to be in. I'll see you around, Franklyn. Talk to you later." And off he goes with Green.