|
Post by Violet Collins on Dec 22, 2009 10:22:48 GMT -5
/all welcome
Man, this sucks! What the fuck!? Violet cried out as her steps were stifled by the heavy downpour that greeted her as she opened the door. Letting out an exasperated groan, she tightened the hold of her backpack strap as she ventured into the rain, turning to face the door as she locked it behind her. The keys jingled as she clutched them tightly in her fist, reaching back for the hood of her sweatshirt as the water bounced off her head. The weather had been ghastly ever since she’d arrived, and though she welcomed a good thunderstorm every so often, the California native was not used to this much humidity.
No! No! No, c'mon! Aw, shit! she swore as she jogged along the city block where she lived, hoping to catch the light before it turned red. Reaching towards her face, she pushed back her blonde strands and the excess water, sniffling as her clothes were beginning to soak through. Impatient, Violet hastily glanced left and right before stepping out into the street. Of course, people drove on the wrong side of the road in this city, which meant the oncoming blue car that approached the intersection only came to her attention when she was right in front of it. A loud honking sound and tires screeching were all she heard before being knocked over, albeit not too harshly, by the front bumper on the incoming car. Her keys were flung into the air, halfway across the street. Her shoulder hit the cement first, followed by her elbow, hip, and knee. A loud cry passed her lips as her head collided with the street, the rough surface ripping the skin at her hairline. The tires screeched once more, and before she could orient herself and look up from the ground, the car reversed and then swung around her, running a red light as the driver fled the scene. Cursing under her breath, Violet slowly sat up, head spinning as she reached for her wounded forehead. God, she fucking hated this city.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Dec 23, 2009 5:15:43 GMT -5
Nathan had seen quite a few things within his life time but never something so shocking as this! It had taken him off balance for a brief moment, truly; in fact, he hadn't been sure what to do at first when the accident had occured. Then to rub salt within stinging wounds - that were not even his, mind you - the driver had sped away through the downpour without even a second thought. He had never actually seen someone struck by an oncoming vehicle before. Yet, that's not to say Nathan was privy to these things. He had seen a number of tragedies within his life but those mainly dealing with warfare as a whole. It's what one grows accustomed to with a handful of tours leading throughout Afghanistan and Iraq respectively under his belt. So, by default, Nathan had expected worse, and without even a moment's hesitation had rushed out from his hiding place beneath the archway of one of the city's man buildings. Maybe this wasn't the best idea he had ever had. He could only see a few feet outward due to the rain whipping at his face. It required one arm lited above his brow, and even then, he had to tuck his chin toward his chest. He prayed he wouldn't suffer the same demise as she had when crossing the street to find her body, and prayed ever harder, and with even more fervor, that she was still breathing at that! All the while he has the familiar weight of his seabag held over his shoulder - which quickly becomes something he regrets. He should have left such by his perch whilst he had been waiting for the bus. He hadn't really much thought this mission through though. It wasn't even about him any more but more for her safety than anything else. Within moments he's at her side and crouching low. It's this motion that shields her from the rain; his body used like some makeshift shield and all the while the downpour pitter-patters against his back. He's reaching out to set one hand upon her shoulder and the other gently against her cheek with fingers that quest through her hair for any sore spots upon her scalp. Luckily he had found none but he may be wrong about her overall. It's hard to see with the dim lighting of the city, and even harder with the storm. It's a feeble attempt more than anything to think he could dress her out here. He didn't even have the proper tools. At the very least he could get her off of the street, no? Maybe even to a diner where he could get her some coffee and some paper towels. He could think of what to do from then on. "Hey," he starts; his voice warm and soothing. He pitches his voice for her ears only but loud enough to be heard over the rain. It's a tone he used often on the farm for skittish mares. There's no doubt that he half-expected her to recoil away from his touch. "I'm going to pick you up, alright? I need your cooperation. So, trust me, okay? I'm Nathan," he says quickly as his hand - once on her elbow - shifts for his arm to slip beneath her own and brace against her back. His other arm was already beginning to snake beneath her legs. "You're going to be okay," he promises her.
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Dec 23, 2009 6:02:30 GMT -5
Violet had suffered her fair share of falls over the years as both a surfer and rebel, but never something as unexpected as this. Many times she had ventured out into the Pacific to surf on days that even the fishermen were wary of Davy Jones’ locker. All that however she could handle, clothed in a thick layer of neoprene that braced her from the abrasions she seemingly sought out for. Perhaps it was this false sense of invincibility, one her mother always warned her would fade with age; that had landed her in such a compromising situation. Though she had ventured into San Francisco on many occasions, most of her life had been spent in the suburbs, where the dangers of jaywalking had never caused her any problems other than a stray insult from a passing driver. Violet could handle that though, what she couldn’t handle was being stranded in this vast metropolis, late for work, strewn across the cement.
The ache was present, though dull. Luckily nothing was bone deep, or so she concluded as she managed to sit herself up in the company of a helping stranger. Violet always wanted to appear strong, and had it been a familiar face she may have resorted to the stubbornness that was innate to her person to avoid a lecture. If there was one thing she hated to hear, it was: I told you so. However this stranger, Nathan he called himself, was no one she knew, and so she willingly let herself be handled as he saw fit. There was no way she would be getting herself off the street any sooner than he would. Reaching around his shoulders with her uninjured arm, she groaned as her backpack hung from her sore shoulder.
The accident had nicked her ego all right, or perhaps it was accepting help from someone, but she was not ridded of her spunk. Swallowing thickly, she tested her injured arm by lifting it to her face to poke at the injury. Squinting in Nathan’s direction, she tried to make out his features through the dense rain.
I know, I hope that idiot won’t though...
She had no idea where he was planning on setting her, and though she was aware of a few onlookers, Violet did not pay any mind to them. I’m Violet she called out over the rain, leaning towards his ear. Well at least that was a good sign; she could remember who she was.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Dec 23, 2009 6:47:49 GMT -5
This wasn't the way people wanted to meet. At the very least she seemed well enough and had a semblance of her motor functions, or so he could tell so far. It could have been very worse though. She could have been caught under wheels that would churn her to and fro until she was nothing but skid marks on pavement. Yet, that didn't happen, luckily!
Nathan's mindful of backpack as his arm settles around her. It's not long until she's being hefted within his arms and embraced firmly against his chest. Luckily for Nathan, she's rather light and not much of a chore to carry as some men might be with their kit equipping them to the teeth. That, and she's a woman; lovely, truly. They were fairly easier to carry majority of the time. Either way, Nathan hardly speaks then as he focuses on sauntering off of the street and at the very least getting them onto a sidewalk and hopefully out of the way of any other speeding maniacs. That's the sad thing about the whole ordeal though; after all, it's raining, why wouldn't someone take their sweet time? Then again, that's common sense; which the world seemed to be lacking as of late. It's then he hears her and his brows raise.
So, she had her voice!
It seemed that with every passing moment that things turned out to be better. She'd live and at most would have a cut or two. That would have to be assessed within a cleanly enviroment and somewhere with a decent light source. Either way, she's introducing herself well enough as she calls over the fall of rain; leaning toward his ear, even.
"I'd say that it's a pleasure but this isn't a very ideal way to meet," Nathan says back; face tipping toward her own ear as his chin brushing against her hair briefly. It wasn't long then until he was stepping onto the sidewalk and attempting to keep his own bag from slipping free of his shoulder.
Ah, such a hassle!
It took a moment then to find some place that would be used for their benefit. As for that moment? Spent with squinting eyes as he attempted to look through the falling sheet of rain. It's then a small diner called to him and he felt like a moth to a flame then and there. It's only a shame that the two of them would be soaked through by the time he'd arrive at that door and then one of their first predicaments arises! How to open the damn door.
He grunts and curses under his breath as he shuffles his hands and arms beneath her. Yet, after a short moment, somehow manages to squirm his fingertips beneath the latch and pull enough to stick his foot between the jamb and door both. It's with that that he forces the door open and slips within with a huff, and only then would she see him for what he truly was.
His tousled blond hair looks darker with now being damp, and his clothing was within a worse shape too due to the rain; from his denim pants to the dickey shirt beneath his field coat. His dog-tags lay upon the hard plane of chest and hang about his neck well enough. His cheeks are covered with a faint line of stubble though and the flesh beneath his eyes show wear from lack of rest. Yet, his blue eyes nearly show of a youth that undoubtedly made him look younger and boyish at that! He cants his head and tucks his chin toward his chest before staring down at her.
It dawned on him then that her forehead had not come out unscathed.
His mouth was open the entire time as he watches her and hardly makes note of the waitress attempting to catch their attention and maybe even lead them to a seat!
"I," he begins and wrinkles his nose somewhat before smiling somewhat.
"Looks like you need some help," he says simply.
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Dec 23, 2009 9:26:40 GMT -5
Violet managed a small smile in return to his comment, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she felt an aftershock wave hit her. Light-headed, she took in a deep breath, the water streaming down her face as her water-leaden sweatshirt hood hung at her nape. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hand to her forehead and let out a whiny grunt, incapable of stilling the spinning that the height was ensuing.
The blonde reopened her eyes when the rain ceased, and though soaked to the bone, she was happy to no longer be at its mercy. Clinging to her saviour, she looked up, squinting as the sudden brightness of the artificial light caught her off guard. Head still spinning, she did not pay much attention to the surroundings, hoping to block out the boisterous backdrop as her ears were ringing. Instead she focused her attention on Nathan, and what he said. He was soaked to the bone she noticed, piercing blue gaze meeting his briefly before lowering to his chest—to her eye level. She hoped he had not gotten in such a state over her, but was grateful either way.
I’ll survive, thank you she choked out, clearing her throat to dislodge the lump that had settled there in response to the shock. Lowering her hand from her wound, she pushed back the dripping tresses that had were stuck to either side of her face. Slowly she grew aware of their surroundings, blood rushing to her cheeks as she realized she was still in his arms. Flustered, she cleared her throat and tried to rearrange her attire before licking her lips to speak.
I am sure I can hobble, it’s just... a scratch she sighed the last word, fully aware that there was more wrong with her than a mere scuff. Inhaling shakily, she prepared to unwind her arm from behind his broad, manly shoulders. It was a pleasure to meet him, though the conditions were surely too cinematic for someone like Violet. Offering a sheepish smile, she reached for the side of her head, trying to stabilize herself as the movement made her dizzy.
[/justify]
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Dec 23, 2009 13:49:37 GMT -5
She'd survive, or so she says. He's more than willing to believe her though to say the very least and for good reason. She seemed to have her mind about her and could move with nearly no hitch whatsoever. That's more than one could ask for after a glancing blow from an oncoming vehicle. Things could have gotten much more worse than what truly had turned out to be. So, she must no doubt be grateful and he himself too; after all, no one wanted to be witness to a hit and run that ended up being murder.
"Alright. Just take it easy," Nathan says and begins to reluctantly loosen his hold on her as her arms unwind from his shoulders. He's mindful all the while though lest she take a tumble and earn a few more scuffs than necessary. So, when he sets her onto her feet, there's no surprise when his hand catches her elbow to assure himself that she's more than steady.
"You're okay," he breathes outward and his mouth opens to utter another word but soon he's interrupted by someone who had been standing there the entire time. It nearly sets him off balance.
"Would you like a booth...?" Questions the young woman with two menus set within her embrace. Her gaze flits from one face and to the other before her eyes widen at the wound upon Violet's brow. She lifts one hand to cup over her mouth and attempt to stifle any semblance of shock lest panic ensue; which wouldn't help, truly. Nathan nods quickly though.
"Yes, please," Nathan says quickly and within moments she manages to tear her gaze away and lead them to a booth. That would do to say the very least. With menus being set down, Nathan's hands lift to Violet's backpack.
"Let me help you with that," he says simply before assisting her with peeling such from her shoulder and helping her down within a seat at her urging. It wasn't long until he's setting down his own bag but never quite sitting. Instead, he tugs upon the drawstrings of his seabag and peels such open before rummaging through. With that he's canting his head at her.
"I'm going to have to clean you up a bit, you know," he says and offers a reassuring smile. "It's not that bad though. It's only a scratch," he agrees with what she had said moments prior.
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Dec 23, 2009 15:16:30 GMT -5
Thank you she spoke over her shoulder as her feet touched the ground, overwhelmed by the attention. Violet strove to never seek help from anyone; but though she did not shrink back from his protective touch, she did feel slightly crowded by it. Making eye contact with the awaiting waitress, the blonde offered a small smile as her hand reached over her wound to hide it—she did not like the attention. To be honest, though she was prepared to decline any service, it was perhaps best she not run off as though nothing had happened; not in this strange city anyways.
Violet had a long history of underestimating her injuries and overestimating her body’s ability to cope, often pushing herself too hard, to the point where she had no choice but to accept the help of those around her in the end; she wanted to appear strong when she wasn’t. Even now, as uncertain as she was about whether or not the floor was actually sinking under her feet, she was prepared to lift her chin and walk (or perhaps hobble) away from the situation as though nothing had come of it. The boulder rolling around against her skull however was a stark reminder that, in fact, something had come from the accident. Licking her lower lip, she abdicated any authority to make a decision regarding their presence in the diner. Nathan’s judgment was probably the most sound in this case.
Hobbling along behind the waitress, Violet made her way to the seat furthest from the entrance, offering the waitress another half-hearted smile as the menus were set down. Glancing over her injured shoulder this time, she realized he was far taller than she was—most people were—and willingly cooperated as he helped her out of her backpack. She eyed the soaked sack with a puzzled look, as though there was something important about it, but she couldn’t remember what. Then, thanking him once more, the California native sunk into the plush seat, stifling a hiss as the impact reawakened the dull ache in her hip.
Are you a doctor? her voice’s pitch fluctuated as she cocked her head sideways, watching him curiously. In all honesty she could clean herself up if she was directed to the ladies’ restroom; but as she was able to (finally) fully appreciate his appearance, Violet decided she wouldn’t mind toning down her independent woman act for the current company. Clearing her throat, she leaned backwards as she unzipped her sweatshirt, quite uncomfortable in it. The air in this place was stuffy and hot, so she shouldn’t be cold once she removed it, even if she was only wearing a string top. Gently, she worked around her injured shoulder, preferring to keep it immobile lest the pain get worse.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Dec 27, 2009 13:10:39 GMT -5
"You can say that." Yes, one could say that but being a doctor and soldier were far enough away from one another that they couldn't be considered one and the same. Then again, Nathan could argue the fact that he had learned a few things out on the field. That he had learned to assist others with their wounds when no one else could. It's true that soldiers had to learn a semblance of such things albeit not as a thoroughly as one had to deal with actual trauma but certainly enough to make him more than qualified to tend to Violet's own. It's not only until he's wrinkling his nose somewhat though and bestowing a sidelong glance her way with eyes that search her face all the while. "So," he begins as his hand removes a small washcloth from the confines of his bag. There's no doubt that that would be dirtied by the time he was done. He didn't seem so bothered by that thought though. It's then he's drawing himself to her side of the booth and leaning forward to her and partly across the table as one hand lifts to brush aside strands of her hair. His eyes flit from her own to that wound before he gently dabs the terry-cloth at her flesh. She's still wet from the rain, and mayhap that's more helpful than anything. At the very least he didn't need to run and wet his washcloth as he brushed away rain water and blood both. It's then he speaks as he works. "Why the hurry?" Besides the rain fall, couldn't she have waited for the light to turn red? That's not to say he had been the watchful citizen and knew every thing of the situation at hand. Maybe the light was red and the asshole behind the wheel had put more weight on that pedal simply to do so! You really never knew because there were people like that out in the world albeit one wouldn't want to admit that. "I must admit that I thought you might have been...well, dead," he confesses with a frown that creases the corner of his mouth. He pinches an eye shut and meets her gaze with the other. It's more than obvious that that's something he much rather not have dealt with. Within a few moments he's drawing that towel back though and revealing the stain of carmine nectar there. "You're not too badly hurt. You won't even need stitches," he says and eyes her forehead quietly for a moment or two - nothing was spilling forth. Well, that's a sign that he'd take for something positive. At least this night hadn't ended ever so tragically. He sets down that cloth - after folding such, mind you - before sidling to his bag and looking toward her. "Let's get you something to eat at the very least though. I don't want you fainting due to lack of blood," he confesses before continuing to rummage through his bag of undoubtedly wonderful and help tricks.
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Dec 27, 2009 15:04:48 GMT -5
Violet allowed herself to slouch as he confirmed her assumption in a casually vague manner; she wasn’t the paranoid type who worried about how things were said. As he leaned forward, so did she, wincing slightly as he prodded at her wound with care. Assuming his question was to distract her, she remained silent for a few minutes before replying, hesitantly.
I was late for work... Though Violet was a closet-smartass, she decided against her customary, obvious reply: I was late. Nathan was being particularly kind, and she did not want to offend him if her sarcastic inclination was not seen in a humoristic context. Clearing her throat, she clenched her teeth to bite back any sounds that may escape as he swiped the tender area with his washcloth; his touch was delicate, but so was the area. Smiling sheepishly at his admittance, she held back her thoughts, not wanting to taint her reputation further; she was already a law-breaking civilian.
To be honest, stitches hadn’t even crossed her mind until he mentioned it, and when he announced she needn’t be sewn back together, a relieved laugh parted her lips. Out of the many things she feared, needles was one, amongst a long list that included cavity fillings, the dark, gory thrillers, and cockroaches. Smiling widely, she tilted her head as she watched him fuss with his bag, reaching for her menu subconsciously in reply to his suggestion—she had been so late she’d skipped food.
You remind me of Mary Poppins, she commented amusedly, watching him and his sack, You know, like, the whole... huge pack that contains all the useful stuff and randomly appearing when someone needs you... she tried to elaborate, but the damage was done. It was true though, he did remind her of a wanderer, one with a big bag, who appeared when needed out of the blue—all she hoped was that he wouldn’t disappear off into the sky at the end—that would mean her head had hit the pavement much harder than she assumed it had. In order to mask her blush, she turned her face to the menu, reaching for her lower lip with one hand as she flipped through the few pages in search of a distraction.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Jan 4, 2010 1:15:41 GMT -5
She was late for work. It's a shame that being late almost ended her life though. Who would miss her? Nathan certainly wasn't sure. There were many people who came here looking for a new life. There were people who came here searching for their dream. Yeah, they had such within their mindset, but finding that was the hard part; especially if this was their supposed second chance. It wasn't easy, truly. Nathan was testament to that to say the least. So, who would miss her? Her family, maybe. If they even heard from her recently. How many people came here running away from their past? Nathan wasn't running though. He had been denied a life he wanted. He had nothing there any more and now was seeking to re-establish himself but that's another story altogether and one he wasn't talking about at the moment. It's then he heard that comment of hers. Mary Poppins, really? "I'd like to think I'm more like Felix the Cat," he says simply and with a widening grin. He looks to her then and that amused look to her left him feeling a heat beneath his cheeks. There's no doubt that what she said didn't sting him; in fact, he didn't much mind. It was somewhat true, and his seabag tended to carry a number of necessities a lad like himself would need. The next moment proved that easily as he came out with a small package of band-aids; plain and brown. "It's not very fashionable," he confesses as he shows her the package, "but at the very least will keep your cut clean," he adds quickly and slips one out. He stuffs the package away and cinches his bag then and there before pushing his bag toward the end of the booth. It's then things couldn't have gotten any more awkward. He was undoing the simplistic wrapping of that band-aid and lifting such to her brow nearest her small wound. He clears his throat and furrows his brow; awaiting her to look up at him and away from that menu. "Do you --" Mind? He wasn't sure whether or not that would be the correct choice of words. "It's up to you," he says quickly instead and offers a slight smile. "I promise you won't look unattractive with it on," he adds and reassures her with a toothy grin.
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Jan 4, 2010 6:35:03 GMT -5
She had never heard of Felix the Cat. Well she had in passing and could conjure a vague image of the character, but had no idea about how it related to her daft analogy of Mary Poppins. Violet would have made a remark regarding her ignorance, but she was too caught up in the menu. Palo Alto had been a fabulous place to work, for within a few miles from the office, the streets were lined with dainty restaurants and coffee shops; there was sufficient selection for her to go to a different place every lunch and not repeat herself for 2-3 weeks. The same held true for her home town Santa Cruz, but not for Ravenblack City. Despite relocating to a metropolis as huge as this she found her selection limited as she did not have a car, her work was a ways away from quaint little centres and so was her apartment. Due to all this added complexity and her disdain for cooking, she was more likely to skip meals, which had caused her to somewhat lose some of her healthy glow. Rarely did she make it into restaurants, never having the time to sit down, and so today her stomach took advantage of it all.
Glancing up, she furrowed her brow only to hiss as it creased her forehead. In all honesty she wasn’t sure a Band-Aid that small was going to cover it all, but she presumed the pain extended further than the actual abrasion did. The corner of her lips curved upwards on one side as she did her best to retain the amusement this awkwardness fuelled. She leaned forward diligently and stared up at him whilst she was tended to, chest leaning heavily into the table to make up for her lack of height.
I’ll take your word for it, she chuckled, not really caring about her physical appearance. Sure, she cared not to look like a monster, but when it came down to it, she was more fond of thorough hygiene and comfort, than make-up and fashionable things. His bag and hers alike were no Chanel, but they did the job she presumed; additionally, she preferred to decorate bland things with pins and patches. Suddenly, she remembered what was so important. Fumbling for her back, she slipped along the seat with an ‘Ow’ in response to her hastiness, and set her backpack flat besides her. Unzipping it, she reached for the thin MacBook and opened it, gazing at it wide-eyed as she waited for it to respond. No signs of life. Violet’s mouth jaw hung slack as an incredulous look took over her features—she was momentarily disconnected from her surroundings as her mind tried to calculate the losses.
Oh fuck... she mumbled under her breath, much more careful in closing the lid. She turned to face her company, disbelief written on her face. It took her a few moments to gather herself, and when she did, she shrugged the entire thing off, You wouldn’t have a computer whiz in that pack of yours, would you?
She offered him a smile, but it did not reach as high as the other; her eyes indicated she was here but not quite here. Clearing her throat, she retrieved the menu before her and looked at his, Do you know what you are having?
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Jan 4, 2010 18:28:43 GMT -5
Nathan's rather uncertain as to whether or not things could have gotten any more awkward. Yet, that amused look upon her face somewhat smoothed things over as he nestles that Band-Aid upon her forehead and across the abrasion that not marred her otherwise perfect flesh.
"There," he says and quiet muses to himself of past thoughts of Nathan Jr. Yet, that was only for a short while as he catches himself looking down on her for a bit longer than necessary. "You look good," he adds suddenly to clear the air before his teeth bear down onto his lower lip. It's then, and only then, did Nathan finally manage to sit down and relax. It seemed that she had taken up the entirety of his time since she had been hurt and that anything pertaining to him had been put on hold to assure her own wellbeing. It's admirable; somewhat, at the very least.
Nathan took his sweet time with lifting his menu and flipping through each laminated page. There wasn't anything fancy here but certainly enough to even make him want something. There's no doubt coffee would be alongside that meal too. His tongues smooths along the inside of his cheek then up until the moment he heard her curse. Yeah, curse.
It's enough to certainly catch his attention to say the very least. He's looking up with question within those blue eyes fo his and his brows lift. "What's wrong?" He questions before his gaze finally flits to the thin white laptop; a MacBook, to be exact. His eyes lift back to her face once more as she questions him of a computer whiz. Yeah, he didn't have one of those and Nathan certainly wasn't that technologically inclined. Otherwise...well, Nathan would offer some form of help.
It didn't really take that long for Nathan to piece together that her laptop must be damaged either from the fall or rain that could easily soak through most fabric. Yet, Nathan blamed the fall more than anything. It's a shame though. Nathan could recall having his own laptop at one point. There's a lot of important files that tend to be stowed away and who knew what she had there? Yet, she's soon trying to change the subject and he's frowning somewhat before looking down at his menu.
"I'll probably have a sandwich," he says simply then looks back to her. "Maybe you can call support?" He questions suddenly before gesturing with a freehand at that laptop of hers. "I'm sure they can help you with that, or I can find a place..." He trails off. He had connections...well, somewhat. He knew people that knew people after having worked down by the docks. You know, they're the shifty sort of people that you knew were shifty. That, and they didn't exactly hide it.
It's then their beloved waitress was upon them like a crow alighting on the edge of the table. Her hand holds onto a pad and pen; tip nudging against that sheet of paper as she looks down upon either of them with a critical eye whilst surveying the work Nathan had done upon Violet's forehead.
"Whaddaya havin'?"
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Jan 4, 2010 18:59:53 GMT -5
Surely there was an Apple store somewhere in this city, they littered nearly every corner back home. Nodding at his suggestion, she then shook her head at his offer, I’m sure someone at work will be able to fix it up for me, thank you... In fact, had the error been some fatal software problem Violet would have solved it herself, she was a computer engineer after all, but as much as she harboured basic hardware knowledge, iMacs weren’t exactly easy to crack open. Surely someone at the office could deal with it, one of the techies, albeit it allowing them in on her personal life if they did get it running.
As soon as the last word rolled off her lips, the waitress reappeared. The blonde glanced up at her company—her saviour— as though expecting him to go first. Cocking a brow, she kept her gaze on Nathan for a few seconds before lifting it meet the waitress’ scrutinizing stare.
I’ll have the Deluxe Breakfast—it’s not to late, is it? Good... alright, so that with hash browns, bacon, and uh, can also have the cornbread? Yeah, that and uh, Violet pursed her lips to the side as she glanced down at the menu one last time, Oh, and a bowl of fruit,
Glancing back up at the waitress’ incredulous stare, her own blue-eyed gaze shifted to Nathan as a sheepish smile graced her features. It’s on me, she added, hoping the waitress would catch that, Please allow me. It was only fair that she be the host given his gallant behaviour, but she wanted to express her want and not let it seem like she was fulfilling some social obligation.
Once he ordered, she exclaimed as the waitress turned her heel, Oh, and tea for me please. With milk and sugar. The waitress rolled her eyes, but Violet was already slipping the menu into the holder behind the napkins, distracted.
|
|
|
Post by quinn on Jan 8, 2010 15:00:31 GMT -5
"Oh," he says and looks to her laptop. He couldn't help with everything. That's the realistic part of everything and certainly no one was perfect. She'd find help elsewhere and continue on with life. Maybe this would be a funny story to tell her friends and family, and perhaps within a few decades she'd tell any children she has. Maybe she'd simply forget him?
Then something happened that rather impressed Nathan.
She's ordering real [/i] food![/center] You see, the problem nowadays was the fact that most women forgot how to eat. They often ate such small portions that they might as well not have even at all! Either that or that small portion soon ended up thumping down public plumbing. Yeah, that didn't do at all. Women who were far too skinny were rather unnattractive, and a woman who knew how to eat - what she wanted to eat at any time - was something that's attractive and pleasing all at once. "That sounds good," Nathan breathes out with a nearly toothy grin. He looks boyish then and crow's feet sprout at the corners of his eyes then and there. His own gaze flits to his menu then when Violet looked to him. So, what did he want? Her sudden order made him want breakfast himself at whatever-time-this-was. It was a delicious notion to say the very least! "I'll have a sandwich. Bacon, Egg and Cheese, please. Oh, and a coffee, please. That's all," Nathan says simply. It's a simple want and nothing too massive. He wasn't all too hungry anyway. It wasn't long though until he was being surprised once more and his eyes lift to her face. He has to suppress a smile that surfaces to his features. It's not too long until he's following her motion and setting his own menu with hers upon the holder. "I'll let you have today," he tells her simply, "but next time I'm paying," he adds without even a hitch. What did that mean though? Had they even agreed to meet again? Apparently they were going to. At the very least according to Nathan they were! He's smiling all the while and watching her before leaning against that counter and crossing his forearms to cradle his weight. His eyes search her face then and his teeth bear down upon the lower tier of his mouth. "So, where are you from, Violet? You're obviously not from around these parts," Nathan says albeit he wouldn't exactly know that. He himself was new to these parts too. How long now? Weeks to a month, perhaps. Either way, he hadn't been around here for too long. "Then again, I'm much the same, I suppose," he confesses and smiles; the reassurance that people were fine with being from different parts of the world. That being different was better than anything, right? So, he decides to answer her first. Why not? He didn't want her to feel like she's being cross-examined. So, the farm boy tells her. "I'm from Virginia." [/size]
|
|
|
Post by Violet Collins on Jan 10, 2010 7:43:12 GMT -5
She paid this time, he’d pay the next; it sounded like a plan. Violet didn’t like going Dutch at restaurants for she felt it dampened the mood. She never gave it a great amount of thought, but she sternly believed that friendships were not build on stinginess. Plus, the blonde was particularly direct about things if a problem arose, and many times lenient to others wishes. She had a friend who always refused not to split for it made her uncomfortable not to keep tabs; Violet abided dutifully. Most times, perhaps due to the wealth she had been brought up in, she had never really considered inviting people as some sort of, well, who knew—she certainly didn’t understand why people felt it was charity, when her intentions were clearly not such. However, she had suggested to paid, and Nathan had agreed on the condition that he got the next tab; had he not she would have insisted, so just as well he had done so. He had done her a great favour by getting her out of another car's path and patching her up, and he had extended a kindness she had yet to see in people in this city.
Sounds good to me, she smiled, her mind did not imitate the naivety which her enthusiasm portrayed. Sure, there was a chance they could meet again, and she doubted that would be a disagreeable notion if their encounter progressed—as opposed to regressed... or whatever the correct word was for things that went backwards as opposed to forwards. To be honest though, he was quite a pleasant sight to behold and thus far his person had not detered her from daydreaming somewhat- she wasn't aware of it yet.
Or perhaps he was a talker, with looks like those she wouldn’t put it past him. Usually however, she would feel uncomfortable about men like that, but with Nathan it seemed to just, well, it clicked really—he was quite genuine and she liked that. Her sideline worries were but a speck in the back of her vast consciousness, and so she was more than enthusiastic to pursue this conversation.
Virginia. Charlottesville, Virginia. She had spent summers there at her brother’s, where he was doing research at the university in the technology dept. The east coast wasn’t much to her liking, it was too different, and yet Virginia and Carolina were places she had enjoyed getting away to, if only for a while. California had its perks, but as NYC and Miami was equally crowded by tourists, and though the sushi was far more spectacular on the west coast, it could grind on one’s nerves every so often. Clearing her throat, she offered a lopsided half-toothed smile, Northern California, but I’ve been to Virginia, it’s a beautiful place...
Yes, late summer afternoons on the porch, sipping on a chilled can of coke and strumming the guitar whilst the swinging bench swung lightly in the sweet breeze. If she closed her eyes, she could smell wind as it carried the scent of the approaching autumn, the trees whispering overhead as the shadows and sunlight played around the house. Violet had been raised a surfer, and the ocean was her master, but the sound of rustling leaves was so similar to the one of crashing waves—perhaps she wasn’t entirely a beach girl after all.
What brings you to Ravenblack City, then? It was an innocent question, her tone light as she asked in hopes of procuring more information about him as a person. Reaching for one of the chilled glass of water the waitress set down before them in passing, she pulled the straw into her mouth and fiddled with it before sipping some. The expression on her face indicated the cold water that assaulted the nerves in her front teeth—but she brushed it off, stretching her neck forward to bite on the straw so she could sip the water in a way that it wouldn’t bother her teeth again.
[/JUSTIFY]
|
|