3/21/2005

11:38 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Harp and Starling Cafe(#250RJM)
This room is panelled in a mahogany wood, giving it a friendly, almost welcoming look. Along the northern side is the counter, with a smiling attendant behind it. Small wooden tables are scattered across the floor, and booths line the south, east, and west walls. The plants seen in the bookstore are similarly prominent here.
Contents:
Christine
Cole
Obvious exits:
Patio Bookstore

[look Christine]
She is an Korean girl of middling height and athletic build, in middle adolescence. Exceptionally well groomed, she wears her black hair long, cut just below the shoulders, with a line of bangs at her forehead. Her face is so round it's almost circular. It's pale, and there's never a hint of makeup around her brown eyes, or her serious small mouth. She wears a pair of generic jeans with a colorful silk scarf threaded through the belt loops. Farther up, she's got a form-fitting cotton T beneath a baby-blue cordoroy jacket. There's a grey cabbie hat on her head, and a pair of red sneakers on her feet. At the hollow of her neck, now concealed by the closed jacket, is a small golden cross.

It's a languorous late morning in the bookstore cafe, and the moisture in the air has book pages wilting, even while the houseplants at every corner are perking. Christine is sitting at a tiny table in the cafe, one that wobbles at the least touch. She's got a book and a mug of tea in front of her, and the place across from her is staked out by another girl's coffee and handbag, though that girl is just now browsing on the second floor of the bookstore. Christine's long hair is kept out of her face while she studies, wrapped up in a bun behind her head that looks like a pincushion for all the little clips needling into it.

What comes through the doors of the cafe/bookstore draws some eyes up, and others definitely down. Kenneth, relatively cleaned up in physical shape but looking like he had pulled an all-nighter, rolls into the territory like some ominous thundercloud that no one had expected to see. Hair barely combed into place, shirt still wrinkled, and sporting a huge bandage over his lower face, the halfmoon walks through with jacket collar turned high up and zipped. He manages to put off one of the clientele browsing through one shelf, and replaces the customer instead to scan the titles. Just a passing glare is sent out over the rest of the people who occupy the store this morning.

As if it weren't enough that the Shadow Lord enters and makes the customers skittish, a few bare moments later, another figure enters. Tousled red hair glints in the early morning light, and grey eyes scan the cafe briefly. That seems to be enough for most of the customers. A Philodox and a Galliard on the day of a gibbous moon is enough to give pause to any sane person. Cole is dressed better than normal, today. He makes his way toward a free table, setting down his leather jacket.

[look Cole]
Before you stands a man, looking to be around twenty years of age. His hair is a rich mahogany color, lighter streaks visible when the light hits it just so. It's constantly tousled, the tips petering out just above his strong brow. His eyes are a warm grey, piercing and curious. There's a youthful, easy smile that belies his apparent age. His 5'10'' frame shows signs of an active and healthy lifestyle, though he's by no means 'buff'. He wears a pair of beaten blue jeaans, fraying around the cuffs. A thick grey sweater spans his shoulders, while a pair of elderly hiking boots serve his footware needs.
Carrying:
Faded map

Christine was already growing restless with her book, and the cafe's two newest arrivals aren't helping her concentration any. She caps her marker and leaves the book open so that the highlighted passages can dry, if the humidity will let them. She looks curiously at the two, but her eyes don't linger on either for more than five seconds; it's as though she's got an internal timer set for modest glances.

Kenneth browses along the line, but his attention seems to just be elsewhere. The way his eyes scan the titles, they're more like willing the books to burn invisibly. One of his hands reaches up to pluck a title from the shelf, however, and he skims through a randomly opened page before closing it with clear disinterest. He doesn't quite put it back yet, but the second entry of Cole, and the halfmoon gives the familiar looking man a longer look than usual. Uttering something low and to himself, the Shadow Lord turns back to put the book on the shelf, and hunching his shoulders a bit, moves down the shelf line, as if attempting to conceal his blatant intrusion.

Cole's gaze moves over each of the people in the shop. If anything, his glance are shorter than Christines. An instant to get an idea of features, and then on to whatever's next. Kenneth, however, gets another glance, as he, too, finds something familiar nagging at his mind. He turns away, unable to place it, though, and moves to the opposite end of the shelves. He scans intently through the titles, obviously hunting for something.

Christine drains her tea to the dregs. She leaves her book there to mark her place, but she picks up the other girl's handbag when she departs the table. After all, the patrons of this place seem rather shadier than they did a minute ago. She brushes down the narrow aisles between even narrower tables, and makes her way to the staircase. She does, however, send prying glances at Cole and Kenneth's literary selections, should there be any at all.

Kenneth seems to catch the prying glance like he were on high alert, and as Christine looks his way he looks right back. Dark, almost black eyes meet hers, and he holds that gaze for a time towards her even as she is moving on. Book in hand, plucked from the shelves, it seems to just be some random work of fiction, harmless and likely unpopular but the cover looking chic even though the halfmoon himself doesn't. He doesn't say a word to the girl, but it's obvious he takes notice to her.

Cole, for his part, doesn't notice the glance at all. The book he picks up is a new one, a hardcover titled 'Chainfire'. Apparently satisfied, he turns around in time to glance at Christine once more. He moves back to his table, potential purchase in hand. As he sits down, he turns his head so that his gaze rests in the general direction of Kenneth. He's almost wary.

Christine smiles reflexively at Kenneth's glance, and speeds up. She ascends the stairs and pokes about on the upper floor for her companion, who's none too pleased to be dragged from her own browsing. There are words exchanged, not all of them pleasant, but all of them uttered in low, library tones. Together, they return to the first floor, Christine helping to carry a few of her friend's choices. For anyone close enough to peek, they're all paperbacks of the same size, all of the ubiquitous "Left Behind" series. Christine hands over her companion's handbag, and the two settle into their table in the cafe. If Christine on her own was a nosy glancer, the presence of her friend seems to double her nosiness. Over the next few minutes, the two spend significantly less time looking at the book than they do looking at Kenneth and Cole. And giggling.

Kenneth loses his focus on Christine when she disappears, though by the time she returns again there is a certain awareness about him that has extended to the rest of the shelving in his immediate vicinity. Oddly enough, while he doesn't seem to bristle with the giggling, he doesn't exactly go about displaying he has noticed the girls and their looks. His attention flickers towards Cole's general direction as well, but the Shadow Lord does well to keep himself quiet and unconfrontational. His hand combs through his hair again though, and he pointedly picks out another book to look through.

Cole watches Kenneth for a moment, and when he does note that the Shadow Lord's attention is on him, he offers a small, guarded nod. Not much, but it's enough of an acknowledgement as it stands. He briefly glances to the pair of women as they move down the stairs, and it would be a lie to say his glance isn't appreciative. It's still brief, though. He hears the giggling and stubbornly opens hs book, intent on reading despite the flush that's creeping up his neck.

"I swear, you read such trash," says Christine, scanning the blurb on the back of one of her friend's books. The friend, a blonde, grins and shrugs. "It's sci-fi," she admits. "But it's not tacky at all. But you can't stop reading once you start. They're like Doritos." Christine blinks: "Pringles," she corrects. Then, as though in tacit agreement, they both look over their shoulders at Cole at once. "He's OK," says Christine. "He's OK," says her friend. There's no indication of whom they're talking about.

Kenneth makes no indication that he hears the girls' conversation, or he is ignoring it. Either way, the youth clamps the book shut again and slips it back onto the shelf. Vaguely to himself, he utters something in a foreign tongue - recognizeable as Japanese for the most part, before he turns away from the girls and tables to head further to a more interesting section. Sparing just a glance over his shoulder at the others, it is the next indication that he's noticed the girls in general.

Cole, thankfully, has his back turned to the pair. Although some strange sixth sense (The sense of embarasmment) if flagging rather reliably the fact that yes, someone's watching him, his eyes move to follow Kenneth briefly. He pushes himself up from the table, moving to place an order briefly with the barrista.

Christine bends over the book and dabs delicately at the highlighted words to make sure they're dry. Then she flips to the index. "How long have we got?" she asks, her eyes trawling the page. The blonde looks at her watch. "Half an hour, about." Christine finds whatever she's looking for, and starts flipping through the pages. Their sidelong glances grow rarer, and finally stop altogether as they grow serious about the business of their studies.

Kenneth finally does manage to find a book that garners his interest, and makes his way through the narrow shelves towards the register. It's inevitable that he passes the Fianna and the girls on his way there, though. And, up close, the bandages on his face he carries are almost like the marks of the bad boy in class. One who gets into fights too often. Just before he passes the girls by, though, he slows long enough to send down a glance over at what they are studying before moving on towards the register.

Cole's expression darkens noticably as he returns with a cup of some steaming beverage in one hand and a bagel in the other to spot Kenneth's bandages. Perhaps obvious to Kenneth, news travels quickly, and even more quickly amongst Galliards. He bows his head, almost as if in a moment of silence, as he moves back to his table.

The book on the table is a huge, hardbound copy of "The Pilgrim's Progress". It's clearly an educational edition, as it has glossy pages and long margins which are halfway filled with footnotes, and halfway with blank lines for its readers to leave their own notes in. And there's not a page the girls touch that isn't annotated in their neat, loopy longhands by the time it's turned. Christine keeps her eyes on the page so long as Kenneth is passing, but once he's past, she turns her head to see if she can't get a surreptitious look at the bandages.

Kenneth passes by Cole as well, but doesn't seem to slow when he's on his way past. The gesture is not lost upon the Shadow Lord, though the only acknowledgement is that the halfmoon's grip on his book to buy gets a bit tighter. The bandages, looked upon, just cover a low section of his face, and are surprisingly big, leaving all manner of speculation open to what sort of wound lies beneath. As Kenneth reaches the register, the person behind the counter also gets into that habit of staring - this one with a touch more instinctual discomfort at the sight of the Shadow Lord. "Just this," he utters to the cashier, and digs about in his pocket for the cash necessary.

Cole watches after Kenneth and shakes his head, slightly. A vague look of guilt crosses over his features and he climbs to his feet. Book and food are left behind as he approaches the Shadow Lord. He gets within a short distance before reaching out and patting the man's shoulder once. "Sorry, man," is all he says. Odd enough, but to an outsider, maybe Cole's just a jackass and is making fun of the bandages. He goes back to his table, then.

Christine lifts her tea mug half way up in front of her face, though there's almost nothing left in it. It's a social camouflage of sorts, a hunter's blind from behind which her eyes follow Cole and Kenneth. She registers the exchange between the two boys with rising interest. Then: "Your cup is dripping on the book, Christine." And Christine lowers her cup and her eyes swiftly.

Kenneth finally does find the appropriate ten dollar bill and roughly shoves it forward, tensing when Cole approaches and going absolutely rigid as he is touched. He doesn't dare turn, though, but his eyes drop to the counter. "Whatever," he replies in a nearly inaudible mumble, and gritted teeth. The cashier manning the counter looks to
Cole before glancing back to Kenneth, mixed feelings and logic circuits working. Eventually though, Kenneth's eyes return up and he stares at the cashier long enough that the transaction which was paused, resumes. Kenneth gets his cash, declines an offer of a bag, and tucks the book underneath his arm. As he walks past Cole again on his way out, the halfmoon actually pauses long enough to be significant, and then continues on. Then the Shadow Lord passes by Christine and her friend, not exactly stopping to look at them again, though not unaware. He gets to the door, and pauses long enough again to adjust his jacket for the weather outside, and moves out of the bookstore without another word.