Meeting Abdul
7/27/2007
08:58 PM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (87% full).
It is currently 20:54 Pacific Time on Fri Jul 27 2007.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 72 degrees Fahrenheit (22 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the west at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.98 and steady, and the relative humidity is 59 percent. The dewpoint is 57 degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius.)
Campustown: Cup O-joes
Small, smoky, spendy, this little coffee shop sandwiched between establishments more of the chain-store variety is a slice of pure 90's Generation X available 24 hours a day. Pierced and painted goths bemoaning the uselessness of life rub shoulders with the next generation of yuppies getting their caffeine fix via daddy's credit card, while they wait in line for one of the 20 different varieties of coffees, with flavorings to create even more choice. To double the offerings, any of those can be made with Cup O' Joe's very own Spiked! espresso beans which contain four times the caffeine of normal espresso. For those of weaker heart, Joe's also offers a selection of Nantucket Nectars in every flavor, and Crystal Clear water in five, ranging from plain to peach. Sandwiches made on foccacia bread in such scrumptuous flavors as avocado and sprouts and turkey and pesto can be purchased for the modest price of around five or six dollars.
A semi-circular counter arcs out from a corner of the bottom floor, furthest from and to the left of the front door. As many circular tables as an possibly fit are squeezed into the area between the front window, which is to the left of the front door, back into the room to the counter. A set of stairs begins halfway down the right side of the room, leading up to a cozy "reading room". Under the stairs is an open doorway leading into another room out of the noisy hubbub of the front entrance. In clement weather, six umbrella-shaded tables, capable of seating four people, are out on the sidewalk along the main road of Campustown.
Outside of the shop, SCCU can be reached by taking the main road north, while St. Claire is down I-90 if you head east. A 'sign' by the front door advertises today's specials.
Contents:
Abdul
Obvious exits:
SCCU I-90 East
[look Abdul (homid)]
Tall and proud, this middle eastern man has the bearing of a politician or CEO. Every step seems thought out, the lopsided smile frequently plastered on his pitted and battered face seeming crafted to be regal. Definitely an adult, the college aged man dresses like one: loose jeans and a grey button up shirt thrown over a blue t'. Under the low cut T is visible a number of tattoos, around his collar is a bronze colour pattern that almost blends in with his skin, and on his forearms are circular geometric designs in a similar colour. His face is framed by short black hair and a well groomed beard. His jaw seems a bit lopsided, but with how he holds himself it seems to make him look more rugged. He's not a great looking man, but he seems to make up for it through charm and bearing. He also must have learned English somewhere else, because he speaks with a African accent.
Something about him screams nobility, pose and honour to garou so loudly that it's unmistakable. Some might even get the impression they've seen this man before, or even know him.
It's summer semester, so the crowd isn't too heavy here. There's a couple of Grad students grading papers in the corner, a few goths and Emos bemoaning life in their own way at a couple of tables, and then there's one relativly normal looking fellow. The Arab is sitting at the counter, drinking a coffee while reading the "Financial Times." There's a couple of leafed through news papers near him, signs that the Double Tall Chocolate-flavoured dark roast isn't the sole purpose of his venture here. Wearing long-sleeves, he isn't showing his tattoos tonight. Yet despite his seemingly normal appearance, the counter seems to be empty around him.
Then in comes a seemingly out of place face. Or, as some like the goths and emos muse, is just a prime example of the way the university has run its students down and how much the System needs fixing. Kenneth, though relatively cleaned up, wears a long-sleeve black jacket loosely over his white button down shirt and scuffed looking dark pants. The way his hair sweeps back looks a little wild and unkempt, and certainly doesn't express an amiable nature. No, it hints at something wild, something chained back in the way he walks towards the counter. Even the disaffected he passes by give him a second glance before resuming their conversations. "Large coffee. Black." The philodox's order is simple, but there's a break as he orders a bottle of water after it. A hand moves to fish in his pocket for the money.
Abdul glances up at the order. Who goes to a fancy coffee place to just order black coffee? The news-paper browser is quick to return his attention to his own business, flipping to the next page of the yellowed newspaper. As Kenneth orders water, his eyes flick back up again, and he almost gives himself an inperceptible nod, as if the order of the friverous drink, bottled water, made all right with the universe again. The man at the counter once again turns his attention back to his news paper.
Kenneth though, glances up sharply as the total is given to him. His eyes turn down to the wrinkled bill in his hand, and for a long moment he contemplates with a pensive expression. And then he gazes up once more. "Forget the water then, just the coffee." The new total is rung up, and he passes over the bills. Change. Barely a thanks. Then he waits around for his drink to come, which it does swiftly.
Abdul, this time, isn't pondering the cosmic balance as the order changes. He's reading something about a cow in Wales. Well, the story /is/ about cosmic balance, in a way, but moreso in a Hindu way, and less in a 'What strangers are ordering' way. Unconsciously, he clears some of the other news papers, until they're roughly piled in front of him, as opposed to all over the counter.
Almost too coincidentally, once Kenneth has his ordered drink, he looks around at the empty tables and rejects them. Then his eyes settle on Abdul, and there's a slight narrowing of his eyes, as if in recognition of something else. The Shadow Lord moves closer, coming to a stop beside. "Hey." He utters it just to get attention. "Mind if I sit?"
Abdul doesn't object, and even shakes his head 'no' a couple of times. He slides a couple of the news papers away from the other, forming his rough pile into... well, a rougher pile.
Kenneth slips into the stool once the newspaper's cleared away. If there weren't any people around before, there aren't any more coming now, as evidenced by one young collegiate who comes in, orders, gets her drink and promptly decides to actually sit closer with the goths. Kenneth takes a few sips of his coffee sans the plastic to-go lid, staring at the darkish liquid within. Then he looks back over furtively, to see what Abdul's reading. "Anything interesting?"
Abdul lifts an eyebrow, glancing over at the oldish teen as he breaks the silence. Slowly, the edge of Abdul's lips start to curl up, as if he's not at all put off that someone's trying to read over his shoulder. "Drunken Astronuts." He says, the solemnity of his voice not matching his growing expression. "Even better than the woman with the huggies."
Seeing as there's a response, Kenneth just looks over. But what he doesn't reply with, is understanding. "Huh?" And with the accent, too, makes things all the more difficult to parse.
"Drunken Astronuts." Abdul repeats, laying down the newspaper to finger an article. It's got a picture of a an official looking woman behind a podium with a "NASA" logo. "They say they have been flying the space shuttle drunk, and other rockets. But... I do not think they thought to make this illegal when they wrote the DUI laws. Making it illegal to fly rockets, drunk."
"The fuc--" Kenneth stops himself before he follows through with the cuss. His coffee lifts to his lips again, staving off an initial reaction by drowning it in java. "Not surprising. But slow news days, much? Must've ran out of people dying to report about in the Middle East."
"Hilarious." Abdul responds, clearly disagreeing with the other. "Think about it. You have Astronuts, the best of the bright, and da like. Heroes of America! And they're hammered as they fly the rockets." The Arab clearly finds the thought amusing. The bit about the Middle East passes with only a twitch.
Only passingly does Kenneth realize, belatedly, his comment and who he speaks it to. The philodox looks back to his coffee, not saying anything for a time. Back to drinking coffee and newspaper reading. Whole minutes pass before he utters out a short, "Sorry. About the whole, people dying thing."
Abdul waves it off casually, feigning indifference for a moment. "Eh." He takes a sip of his own, luke warm coffee. After he's swallowed, and set the cup on the stack of papers, he says, "These days, it is a lot of Hamas killing Fatah." He rolls his eyes at that. "Not as interesting as Holy Bulls in Wales. Or... Naked men, drive off a cliff."
Naked men... driving off... Kenneth furrows his brow and looks blatantly at the man. "What newspaper are you reading?" he asks bluntly, tone incredulous. "Sounds like a load of crap."
Abdul reacts as if he was the news paper, and feigns indignation. "The Financial Times is a bulwark of journalism, ya? There are more to the stories than this, but... all very important things! Oh, and something about the Dow sell off, and the housing market in Colorado. That is okay too. But... Men driving off a cliff in Canada, it is in all the papers. Must be important." The pile gets a small, sweeping gesture.
Sipping again at his coffee, Kenneth grunts at the mock indignation. "It's mostly spin anyway. Gotta look past that, and at the facts." A beat. "Guess it is a little interesting. Suicidal naked men in Canada." Sip.
"Facts." You can almost hear the 'bah' in Abdul's voice. He takes a quick sip of his luke-warm coffee again, before nudging Kenneth. "Not half as interesting as lies." He finishes, conspiratorially
Kenneth glances down as he's nudged, before looking back up at the Strider. There's a vague indecision of how to react to that statement, the expression on his face flitting through different ones before settling on a tense neutrality. "Lies I can do without, most of the time," is his response.
"I would, too, but if everyone told me the truth, I would never get to hear how pretty I am again." Abdul jokes lightly, before picking up his paper again. The coffee gets shuffled off to one side.
That actually gets a short chuckle out of the young Shadow Lord, wry as it is. "No shit?" he slips with the formalities briefly, only this time he doesn't stop it. "Well, you could rest assured I'm not going to lie to you then." He smirks, takes another sip of his coffee before adjusting the to-go lid on top, and starts to slip off the stool.
"Abdul. Abdul Behbahani." He offers, lowering his paper as he spies the older teen slide off the stool. "Enjoy da coffee."
Kenneth pauses when he gets off the stool. "Kenneth," he replies slowly, "Kenneth... Kingston." The significant pause at the giving of a last name belies his reluctance to reveal it. "And I will." He toasts with his cup, and turns to head off. One last glance is sent back at the man with the newspaper, a squint in his direction given before he moves off.
Abdul toasts the teen silently, before spinning back around on his stool to the counter. You can almost see the belated recognition on his face, thirty seconds later, when something seems to occur to him. He stops, looks over his shoulder repeatedly, before reluctantly turning his attention back to the paper. He has a hard time focusing on it again.
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