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Post by quinn on Jan 15, 2010 18:39:58 GMT -5
Her smile - lopsided and half-toothed - turned out to be a rather contagious one to say the very least. He couldn't help but smile around her and although she had frightened him to the core at first, Nathan could honestly say that he liked being around her so far. Maybe that will change after a while though; after all, they hardly knew one another and Nathan hardly knew her as a whole. She could be spiteful and horrid beneath the surface, or maybe she wasn't and this was the reality of things? It's almost too hard to believe but life was about taking risks.
Yeah, believe. It won't hurt.
"So, you've been?!" There's an obvious show of excitement that floods his eyes then and there. How long had he been away from home? True home. Fredericksburg, Virginia. The last thing he truly needed was another memory of his home state though. With every good thought and memory there an equal horrid one. That's the unfortunate part of all this. His mouth twists toward a smile nonetheless though as he cants his head at her.
"I've never been to California," he confesses. "Life has kind of kept me away from exploring the states much. Although I must admit that I wanted to check out California," he confesses. It's not a lie whatsoever. The truth was, was that he liked the United States. There was a lot to see but his career as a marine had kept him situated within the Middle East more than anything. Yeah, there's a big difference from that to the city life that he lived now. He's smiling all the while and leaning even closer to her with his forearms crossed and braced upon the table top.
Then that question. It's the question that comes up for everyone and anyone here within this city of cities that's so far away from everything else. It's detached from the world but still ever present and standing as the young sapling it had first been. It's filled with people with dreams and those who were attempting to renew themselves. It's called a fresh start.
It's what Nathan Avery Quinn needs.
"I suppose the same reason everyone comes here, you know? Economy sucks every where else. I'm looking for work and simply a place to be. This seems to be my best bet and I've been down on my luck enough and for far too long," he says simply. He didn't mind confessing the truth or at the very least part of that. He offers a smile and wrinkles his nose somewhat. It's a gesture brought on from his childhood years; something that's as innocent as the first day he had done so.
"Things are looking up for me now though. At least a little bit," he says and offers Violet a widening smile. "I suppose I can't really complain, you know? When I have a pretty young girl sitting across for me and paying for my meal," he adds suddenly and lifts one shoulder with a shrug of dismissal. He couldn't resist the grin coming to his face.
"What about yourself though?"
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Post by Violet Collins on Jan 16, 2010 13:16:35 GMT -5
Her blue gaze roamed upon his handsome face and she nodded gingerly to affirm that she had indeed been to the state he was from. It was bizarre how instinctively humans sought familiarity, and how the simplest thing such as the acknowledgement of something that was dear to another, could strengthen a relationship by fostering that sought-for sense of comfort. Violet’s smile widened upon hearing of his interest in California, but she kept herself from commenting as he proceeded to divulge a somewhat heartfelt account of his reasons for not going to the West and for coming to this godforsaken city. Well, perhaps it wasn’t all bad, not if it housed people such as him; though she had to admit Nathan was one of the few she’d met who had prompted any positive feeling about Ravenblack, and he wasn’t even a local.
Violet was caught off guard as his comment preceded a mutual query, and her cheeks flared up once more. A wild smile settled upon her features as she chortled, but instantly she pulled her lower lip into her mouth to silence herself. Clearing her throat, she glanced up as the waitress settled down their drinks, two plain white cups with steam rising from them.
“Your food will be right out,” the woman announced, to which Violet nodded her head in thanks and reached for her cup carefully. Despite the thick construct of the cup, its surface was bloody hot, causing her fingers to ricochet from the circular surface and instead wrap around the handle. Dragging the cup along the table’s surface methodically, her lips pressed into a thin line and as her stare grew relentless; she appeared to take this action far too seriously. With a record like hers however, the last thing she wanted to do was cede to innate clumsiness and end up with a burned hand. Once the cup was near her edge of the table, she wrapped her fingers around it, but at a distance, close enough to feel the warmth radiate off the cup.
“I was transferred here two weeks ago, I work for Google,” she smiled, deciding not to hand out any more information lest she intimidate him. It was so annoying how some men would recoil when they learned that her geeky nature was rooted deep within. Many who came to know her as the video-game obsessed Trekkie, rarely assumed she stored quite a brain within her head. So, she would allow her company to make his assumptions, and clear them up if he wanted to know more, otherwise, well... it didn’t matter. Violet had never let any particular aspect of her person define her, but she had come to realization that others would and that there was nothing she could do about it.
“What type of work are you looking for? If I may ask, were you in the medical field or something?” Merely assumptions, innocent ones, if only to understand the character of the person sitting before her. Offering him a smile, she lowered her eyes to her cup and lifted it up carefully, taking a tentative sip before concluding it was too hot still.
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Post by quinn on Jan 16, 2010 17:53:23 GMT -5
Strange. It seemed that only one moment ago he had been saving this young woman from the midst of a urban jungle. Now, though, she's sitting across from him with a wild smile and pretty look about her. Yeah, and all the while Nathan's more than pleased. He's utterly boyish and somewhat happy that he had met someone normal for once. Then their coffee was there.
Nathan looked ready to chug the brew but of course he played an easy card and waited. He did draw his mug closer though and stared down at himself there within that dark nectar. He didn't look too bad today. At the very least he didn't have smudges on his face like he tended to. That wouldn't do at all! Especially when trying to talk to a woman. His hand lifts then and one fingertip hovers over the steam to test the heat and out of reflex - and only reflex - does he dip that fingertip only to draw back quickly and soothe with his mouth. Boyish, truly.
His eyes flit upward to meet her gaze when she speaks.
"Google, huh?" His brows lift. Yeah, he knew what Google was. What he didn't know was what they actually did; after all, Google's a search engine with so many add-ons that one could find themselves lost! Although that soon made him feel sympathy for her and the lost of her laptop suddenly. Undoubtedly she needed such for her employment. He frowns somewhat but soon smoothes that away. His eyes meet her own evenly and he offers a smile.
"Is it any fun? I mean, I'm not even sure what exactly you do, but working for Google has to be at least decent, no?" He questions of her and truly looks genuinely curious of her. There's no doubt he wanted to hear mroe and learn more. Nathan had always been a curious fellow since childhood. How would this work or that? That sort of mind. He had dabbled within a few things but never technology. That never seemed to be his forte whatsoever but that's okay.
That's why people like her came into his life.
Heh, maybe that's assuming too much though.
Then her query fills his head and he tips his face whilst elbows brace upon the table. His hands clasp before his mouth briefly. Was he in the medical field? Yeah, somewhat. He even says as much: "Yeah, I suppose you can say that," he utters. "I mean, no. Well, kind of," he says and then pauses before laughing and grinning like an oaf. "I mean, I've learned some things. You sort of have to learn the basics where I worked," he confesses and then suddenly was reaching for his throat and beneath his shirt. There's a soft chime of sounds before his tags were revealed.
Genuine military dogtags.
"I was a marine," he confesses.
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Post by Violet Collins on Jan 16, 2010 21:44:49 GMT -5
“I don’t do anything grand, but I enjoy it nonetheless... strangely enough...” the last part was for her own ears as she began to contemplate the discrepancies between her outdoor-loving persona and her indoor-job. Scratching her eyebrow, arm reaching across her face, she pondered whether her job would retain its value now that the setting impeded her from taking part in many of her extracurricular activities. One year in Ravenblack, that’s what they had told her, and once she had completed this year she could ask to be transferred anywhere her heart desired. Australia, that’s where she wanted to go—the beach, the accents, the culture...
Her fingers returned to the cup as she questioned him.
Violet’s head tilted slightly as a single brow began to creep upwards, confusion overtaking her features as he tried to explain himself. When the dogtags flashed before her she thrust herself up the seat in sheer spontaneity, eyes wide as she attempted to reach forward for them—like a child with no inhibitions, grabbing for another’s toy impulsively. Her lips parted as she mouthed a silent WOW, hand coming to a sudden stop inches before him as inhibition caught up with her. Hesitantly, she drew her fingers back, curling them towards her palm as she slowly sat back down. It was surprising that the table did not shake due to her sudden movement, but luckily neither cup was spilled. Blinking, she kept her eyes on the tags before looking up at him—filled with awe and questions. Moistening her lips, the blonde reaches up to poke at the covered wound on her forehead before combing back the long strands embarrassed.
“That’s neat...” she commented distractedly, a sheepish smile gracing her flushed features. Her gaze dropped down to his chest, where her stare focused past the metal and on his body. Biting down on her lower lip, her gaze flickered up at him in forced silence; she was sorting her thoughts out lest she offend him with questions civilians have no likely asked him before. Dropping her hand from sun-kissed mane, she scratched her cheek where the rain water was drying uncomfortably, stray strands still clinging to her cheekbones.
Reaching into her cup, she tugged the tea bag out, searching the table for a surface before reaching for a napkin and setting it on top. Her stomach growled hungrily, but it did not deter her interest in him.
“So, and this is a stupid question, but...” she paused, trying to rephrase her question, “I mean there’s the navy and the army, right? Are the marines like... both? Or are you like, special forces?”
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Post by quinn on Jan 17, 2010 5:03:13 GMT -5
He hadn't exactly expected Violet to take to that so easily. Not that there was anything wrong with being a marine! It's simply the fact that she didn't seem to be that sort of woman. Then again, that didn't make much sense either, truly. Either way, the sight of her suddenly leaning forward was surprising but warming all the same. It's the fact that she welcomed the thought of him as some urban warrior of modern time. Alright, maybe not that far, but nonetheless, he welcomed that.
So, Nathan reluctantly clutched his tags and slipped them from his neck. It had been ages since he had done that though, truly. Despite that though, he offers them to her from across the table; after all, she had been reaching for them, no? He didn't mind then, truly. He'd have probably done anything to make her smile once more though. Yeah, contagious stuff, really.
His tags read easily enough albeit the material was frayed and stained from time; well-worn, even. His name read out easily within the full of QUINN, NATHAN AVERY, and his social security beneath alongside his blood-type and religion: Catholic. It's simple enough but states nothing else. Nothing of his rank whatsoever. Yet, that's something he'd undoubtedly tell her. Either way, these were genuine tags that had braved the world from around his neck. It's her question though that makes him smile wide and break with laughter before his nose wrinkles.
"You can say that," he says simply before canting his head, "but no. I suppose we're kind of like the best of both words." He pauses and bites his lower lip. There's no doubt he feels somewhat embarrassed but what for? Ah, that must be why! He's suddenly speaking that's undoubtedly something he had memorized from when first becoming a marine. He speaks with a timbre belonging to any man of the military.
"We serve as an amphibious force-in-readiness. We fulfill a vital role in national security and we're capable of forcible entry from the air, land and sea. In other words..." He trails and meets her gaze evenly. "We're the first ones there and we'll kick that door down and hit them harder and faster than they'll ever see coming," he says simply. Yeah, that sounds right. That sounds like home all over again. That sounds like Afghanistan and Iraq both. That sounds like...
Shrapnel wailing through the air and piercing deep within brick and Afghani-turf. The sound of steel rending and the punch of bullets slamming dead-on. It's the sound of his own breathing rushing outward and the call of his men all around him. It's him and the pain that shoots through his palms; cut, torn and bleeding. Then nothing. Then all that was there was Violet sitting across from him and he bites his lower lip before looking down at his mug for that moment.
It had only been a short moment when he had fallen silent. It had been only a short moment when his eyes had stared off toward nothingness and had gone dark. That had been a hitch that's nigh forgotten and shoved deep within his mind and far from her sight. His hands smooth over his mug then and there before he's looking to her once more.
"I was a Sergeant Major," he says. "I was pretty good at what I did. Now, though...well, I'm here and trying to make my way, you know? Making an honest living," he says simply. Yeah, no horrid shit for him. No beating people within some back alley for a quick buck. He couldn't rob anyone. That wasn't within him. He'd make his way one way or another. Then he's laughing somewhat and wrinkling his nose. "Sorry," he breathes out suddenly. "I'm not a sob story, I swear," he assures her but his mind said otherwise. Maybe he was.
"Sorry for the wait," their waitress - sudden as ever - approaches with their food held akimbo before being settled upon their table before either one of them. "Is there anything else I can get you?" She asks. All the while Nathan was leaning away from the table and shaking his head. "No, thank you."
Simple.
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Post by Violet Collins on Jan 17, 2010 5:44:40 GMT -5
Single-handedly she reaches for the tags, though her second hand soon follows. For a second or two Violet lets them dangle, their clinking sound drowned by the hustle and bustle of the diner. Her gaze flickers towards the other side of the diner, where a crowd has begun to gather as individuals find shelter from the rain in this very venue. Clutching the tags, she squints to facilitate her reading, all the while listening to Nathan as she examines them. Her lips stretch into a tight-lipped smile as he thoroughly answers her question. Running her tongue over her lower lip, she glances up at him as he falls silent, watching him curiously as her fingertips continue to trace the embedded letters.
Unsure how to respond to such honesty, Violet stumbles over a few words as he apologizes, shaking her head. “No, no, no. I mean, I wasn’t assum-”
The waitress and her impeccable timing allow the blonde to fall silent as staggered words slip from her lips. There is a question in the back of her mind which she dares not ask. Once the food is settled before them, she offers the waitress a semblance of a smile, distracted by Nathan Avery Quinn, ex-Sergeant Major. Sounds like a fancy title, so she does not dare question that he is capable. Clearing her throat, she reaches forward to hand him back his tags, not daring to set them down on the table lest it be disrespectful.
“Woah...” she comments, looking down at the food, though she really is voicing her opinion of the verbal exchange. Glancing up at his plate, she reaches for her mug and lifts it to her mouth; she does not drink. Cradling the tea to her lips, she gazes at him in silence, absorbing the information. Violet has always been rather ignorant when it comes to defence and politics; the war isn’t something she ever dealt with other than watching it on the tube. Offering a smile, she diverts her gaze upon meeting his and tilts the cup back.
A few seconds pass and she pulls the cup away from her lips, expression thoughful.
“N—” she pauses, hesitates and then decides against continuing, setting her cup down and reaching for her cutlery. Unwrapping the silverware, she reaches to scratch the inner corner of her right eye, licking her lips in anticipation as the smells alert her brain that she will finally satiate the hunger.
A crack has appeared in this new relationship. Violet feels inadequate, uneducated in an area that appears to be a great deal to him. Her interest in dogtags is merely fuelled by popular culture, but having never dealt with a man like him, eggshells begin to surface as she realizes this subject can be highly flammable—she doesn’t like walking on eggshells. For now, she pokes at her plate with the food, distracted.
And then she can’t help herself.
“So how come you were and no longer are?”
Her eyes widen and she covers her mouth with the curve of her thumb to silence herself, fork hanging from in between her fingers. It's too late, the faux-pas has been taken. Unable to offer a sheepish smile this time, she apologizes hastily, “I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business, I shouldn’t be interrogating you like this...”
Her fork scrapes the plate as she attempts to stab a treacherous grape.
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Post by quinn on Jan 17, 2010 18:48:11 GMT -5
It's truly peculiar how quickly things could turn around. Maybe Nathan shouldn't have spoken of anything. Yeah, keeping his mouth shut tended to keep people moving and happy. It's why he never spoke of himself down by the docks but that never seemed to bother anyone mostly for the fact that everyone else had a mouth on them. As for Violet? He wasn't sure. She probably could talk his ear off and truth be told he wouldn't have minded much.
His eyes flit to his food and his chin tucks toward his chest only briefly before reaching for the tags she's handing back. He felt somewhat naked without them; a familiar sense running through his flesh when he finally slipped them around his neck. That felt better. That felt right. Yet, no, they were still quiet amongst one another and not that comfortable silence moments ago.
Wonderful.
So, Nathan stays silent all the while whilst his gaze roams over his own plate. It's a sandwich and still steaming from the kitchen. His fingertips, out of reflex, press upon one side and spread the sandwich a slight. It looked delicious within, of course. Yet, one never knew if another could muss an order! It seemed to happen all the time at fast food restaurants. He releases then and flattens his sandwich only somewhat before reaching for his coffee with a furrow within his brow.
Her words were somewhat of a surprise then. Her continuing interest in him even more so. His tongue smooths over his lower lip then as his fingers curl over the handle of his mug simultaneously.
"It's okay, really. I don't mind. It's nice to simply talk to someone, you know?" He says and wrinkles his nose somewhat. "Anyway," he begins and pauses before pursing his mouth. "I'm not sure. I mean, I do. Government tends to muck things up a bit when you disappear for a little while," he says simply and laughs but it seems to be more than obvious that the situation wasn't very laughable.
"I've already served a few tours over seas. I've done my time. The last time I nearly didn't make it out and was...well, I was lost," he says but that certainly didn't fit the bill. "So, that...well, was quite an obstacle to overcome." He wasn't sure how to explain that entire situation. It wasn't something easily to embrace and to be quite honest he wasn't sure how to tell her about what had happened. That was a bit too much for her to know.
So, he skipped ahead. Maybe one day she'd find out though. Maybe.
"I came home and I suppose I've been away too long. People get used to living life on without you, you know? Then they up and forget about you. They move out and you try to get their number but then they won't pick up. No one to turn to. No need for the army. No want to risk myself as I had before," he says and takes up his mug; drawing his coffee close to his face. "So, figure I'll come and take my chances here. Maybe find someone who'd make me feel like I once did. Make me smile and all that jazz."
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Post by Violet Collins on Jan 18, 2010 1:36:14 GMT -5
Violet sets her chin against the top of her hand, fork rooted into a grape. She gives him her full attention, watching him carefully as he speaks, taking in his mannerisms to get a feel about his sentiments towards the situation. There’s something strained about the way he speaks, or perhaps it’s the tangible lie in his laugh. The blonde doesn’t understand his story fully, but she doubts there is much room to prod further. She’d learned at age three when she received an electrical shock from the socket that not every rarity was meant to be pursued and explained; some things were best to keep a safe distance from. Swallowing thickly, Violet tears her eyes off him, realizing she has been holding her breath all the while.
It’s heavy stuff. She lets out a single, breathless laugh before her lips draw up into a smile.
When she looks up at him again, she sees him differently. It’s not like his appearance has changed, or his demeanour has shifted 180 degrees; but there’s something different about the way she regards him now. Sympathy, perhaps? In all honesty, the tale sounds genuine enough, but she cannot wrap her mind around it; surely there is more to the story, something to fill the blanks. Some things are best if left untouched; this relationship is too new and fragile, yet they’ve come quite a long way. It is the first time in a long time that she is confronted with such reality, such genuine expression. A fleeting glance is cast upon him as she considers the possibility that it is all a lie; she can’t bring herself to think such a thing. No, Violet needs to believe.
Finally, she offers him a smile, an invitation to move on. Glancing down at his sandwich, she brings the grape up to her mouth and envelops her lips around it slowly; the wheels are turning, it’s clear from the thoughtful expression on her face. She remains silent for a while, chewing silently with her eyes downcast to her plate.
“You are right, it is nice to simply talk to someone... It’s nice to come across some familiarity too,” she finally offers, satiating her need to end the silence lest it grow awkward, “We should do this again...”
Yes, again. Offering him a smile, she finally dives into the steaming pile of hash browns, poking at the yolk so that it’ll run along and mix with the rest. Everyone’s got their own way of preparing their food before eating.
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Post by quinn on Jan 25, 2010 15:16:25 GMT -5
There's so very little that Nathan could have asked for then and there. Simply the fact that she didn't look at him within a peculiar way was more than enough but then the fact that she seemed accepting of his reality soothed him. That, and soon she's offering him passage to flee from that subject with ease; without being questioned or stared at awkwardly.
This was a once in a life time thing. You simply didn't find people like this any more. Most of the time they were snobby and would upturn their nose. Then there were times where the conversation would be all about "me, me, me." Yeah, that never turned out good either. Yet, it wasn't like that between them. It was more of a give-and-take. One talked and the other listened before the tables were flipping. Maybe that's why they had to meet again.
"Yeah," Nathan breathes out as his eyes flit to that soft mouth of hers wrapping around that grape. It had never looked so delicious up until that point. Then he's looking down at his own food and prodding at such with a fingertip before wrapping his sandwich up withn his hands and bracing his elbows against the tabletop. He looks to her then.
"We can always meet here again, you know? Right where it all started," he says with amusement coming clear to those blue eyes and a smile spreading wide over his mouth. Then she was preparing her food. As for Nathan? He hardly had to do a thing! He did chow down though.
He hadn't ordered anything fancy or anything one could truly mix. He had seen people who were eager to spread ketchup along the line of their sandwich or even douse such with salt and other such condiments. Yet, Nathan didn't do that. That, and he was simply hungry - his stomach groaning with anticipation. So, he ate and there was nothing spectacular about such besides the fact that he looked like some cat whilst doing so; licking his lower lip and taking another morsel.
Each bite went down easily enough and was soon chased by a sip of coffee. He looked more than relaxed and by that time his clothing was drying from the wailing rain prior to their sanctuary. Now, he seemed eager to wait and occasionally glancing out of the window to the street where the rain seemed to die down albeit only a tad bit.
"Could you see yourself here very long? In the city I mean," he questions suddenly between bites; gaze flitting back over to her.
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Post by Violet Collins on Jan 25, 2010 21:44:46 GMT -5
They ate in silence, at least for the first part of the meal. Violet wolfed down the food contently, slowing down gradually as her stomach began to fill up. Taking pause to chew and really savour the food, she reached for her tea and dragged the bowl of fruit closer to her side of the table. That’s when she stole a glance at him, half of her face hidden by the large cup. Swallowing slowly lest she choke, her expression visibly changed from behind the ceramic rim when he posed her a question.
Setting the cup down, she licked her lips and fiddled with her damp hair—oh how nice it would be to have short hair, it would dry so quickly! Alas, she was stuck with her long locks, which she loved on any other day. Violet took some time to think about an honest response, and was not surprised by her answer:
No.
I mean... she added, stumbling on her words as she stared straight into those gorgeous eyes and boyish face, I have a one year contract, and after that I am hoping to be transferred... she shrugged slightly, reaching for her fork and poking at a slab of pineapple, I was born by the sea... I want to go back to the shore...
To be honest she had heard about the ocean being within an hour drive from this city, but lest she bought a car and moved to the suburbs, there was not much Ravenblack City would cater. Perhaps if she found the right guy, the right house, the right balance that sated her innate needs and that she could see herself raising children in, then just maybe this city could be home... but today, no. Nathan was the first burst of fresh air in this smog-filled city, everything else had been rather lame.
Biting down on the fruit, she tilted her head at him, You?
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Post by quinn on Feb 4, 2010 3:25:00 GMT -5
She's an honest woman to say the very least and Nathan certainly could not fault her for that. If anything, he was attracted by that notion of her. There were too many people who skirted around the truth of things and would rather play some semblance of a game other than admit a fact. So, when Violet outright told him no, Nathan certainly wasn't taken aback, and things made even more sense when she explained herself.
A lot could happen within a year.
Friendships build and break, and friendships are mended. They could become the best of friends or maybe never even reach out for one another after tonight. How would that work out? Awkwardly. Imagine meeting again the same way? That made him smile but he'd undoubtedly look a bit strange smiling at nothing, but then that could be attributed to her uttered words.
"Yeah, that makes sense. It's really hard going from one thing to another, you know? You kind of get used to that life and then having to change your whole lifestyle for a different setting...well, that's no easy feat, honestly!" He's been there a number of times and that's hardly making mention of the tours spent overseas and within the middle-east proper.
"I'm not really sure," he confesses. "Sometimes I think the people are too pretty and snobby for my tastes," he confesses with a sly smile and grin that shows of all that brash and boyish attitude that belonged properly to a marine as himself. He smooths his tongue over his lower lip to buy a semblance of time before speaking onward. "I mean, I'm sure I can see myself here if I found the right job, you know? Economy's kind of down and out though, somewhat, but if I find something steady with good pay anything can be possible. Hell, maybe I'll meet some pretty girl!" He says that with a bit of enthusiasm and mirth high within those too bright blue eyes of his.
"May I have one?" He suddenly questions of her with those eyes of his - still filled with mirth - widen and flit to the sight of her bowl of fruit but more so to the one she was chowing down on. He bites his lower lip and doesn't make any sudden moves for a piece though lest she think him too forward; after all, there were people who hated that sort of thing and refused to share food.
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Post by Violet Collins on Feb 4, 2010 4:07:19 GMT -5
Violet smiles at him with a closed mouth, lips sealed as she slowly chews on the piece of pineapple. The bitterness of the fruit, which is possibly due to the time its been refrigerated to keep it fresh (whilst ultimately riding it of that utter freshness true, unrefrigerated fresh fruit has), causes her face to scrunch up lightly; an innate response to acidic taste. Masking her grimace with the back of her hand, she draws her tongue as far back as she can as she continues to bite, hoping the tartness will not linger once she has swallowed. And it doesn’t, luckily. Clearing her throat, she run her tongue along the back of her lower teeth to clear the space of any acidic residue as she shakes her head.
No, please, go ahead
She pushes the bowl towards him, allowing it to stay right in the middle of the room where her shorter arms can reach it.
Stay clear of the pineapple though, it’s really sharp... A drop of tartness that resides along the upper side of her cheek catches her off-guard and she purses her lips as her brows furrow. She doesn't know what he means though, for she has always lived in one place. Sure, she's driven around neighbouring states and visited the otherside of the country (clearly), but living elsewhere... well this was her first.
Well.... I haven’t travelled much, so I was looking to get away and see the world, but I just... she shrugged and looked out the window, puffing her cheeks slightly as she contemplated the end of her sentence. Glancing back at him, she shrugs again, I guess I had higher expectations...
Surely there is more to this cement Lego-land, culture and history pertaining to the various older buildings scattered throughout the city. Violet has done a fair share of research on the place, but all her queries result in similar conclusions. Albeit being a place filled with stories of the past, the old side of town is dangerous, having the highest assault numbers in the entire country! No, as much as she wishes to learn to love this place, she knows when to stop herself from committing stupid mistakes. At sea she spits in the face of danger, but on land she is not so brave.
She is curious about what he is looking for job-wise, he seems like an honest man, perhaps she can put her connections and research knowledge to use and help. However, speaking of work seems so trite and classical, so corporate and inhuman. No, she wants to learn other things about Nathan, things that are worth remembering and appreciating; a boss may appreciate his experience in the field, but a friendship was based on other things. So, why did you join the Marines?
Work is not something that caters to much conversation, but the reasons behind careers and lifestyle choices are always a good place to start. Reaching up to her face, she scratches her cheek idly and pokes about her plate for another forkful of chow. The fruit may not be great, but at least the heavier portion of the meal suits her taste. Picking a piece of cornbread off one of the rolls in the centre of the table, she uses it to begin scooping the intangible layer of egg yolk that consistently slips through the ridge of her fork.
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Post by quinn on Feb 11, 2010 22:33:11 GMT -5
"That's a shame, I was hoping the pineapple would be good," he confesses with a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. It didn't very much matter to him though, truly. He didn't exactly care whether or not the pineapple was well off or not. Either way, he did lean forward to survey what was within that dish of fruits. There was a tad bit of peach that caught his attention and he was eager to nestle the teeth of his fork within that dish and find such.
"I think most people do," he says suddenly when she mentions higher expectations. Hadn't he been the same way once? Yes, he could sharply recall the time he had higher expectations of the world abroad from Virginia. That he had expected he'd be able to do something of grand weight within some far off nation. Yet, he hadn't or had he? He wasn't so sure.
Then her query.
He looks up at her sudden question with brows lifting. Why had he? He knew the answer as clear as day. He could recite the words he had uttered since a child. Yeah, he had known what he was going to be even from childhood! Ever since the day he had his first little green army men. Hell, even since the day he had seen his grandfather's copy of In Which We Serve. The truth was, was that it had been a long time coming to say the very least.
"I suppose you can say that I was following my father's footsteps. He was a marine before me and before him my grandfather. You can say that it's in our blood," he says simply and lifts one shoulder with a shrug as he smiles somewhat but soon even that fades. "It's been kind of a dream for me since I was a child. I was always ever fascinated by the military but that's not all. You see, I was always brought up to think that what little I do can change the world. That my weight can impact the world," he adds and falls silent. Oh, how silly that sounded now.
What can one man do?
"I don't know. I was young. I thought that I could make a difference when shit did hit the fan and when things did hit...well, I was there. I thought I could end the war alone. That what I did could put an end to things within a year or two but that never did happen. It's different there than here. You're always on edge and always have that sense of danger even when you're getting ready for sleep. Then you go out on your rounds and they think we're the bad guys, and..." He trails off and shakes his head slowly as one elbow tucks upon the table. He smooths a hand along the arch of his neck.
How long now?
He can still feel the ache upon the curve of his palm. He could still even recall the crash and the sudden weight of the world dragging him down; swallowing him whole as fear commanded him to bark aloud. Brace Yourselves! The words were still clear within his mind and still the most frightening moment of his life. He pinches an eye shut and looks to her then after.
"I wanted to make a difference."
There's a pause as he bites on his lower lip and his nose wrinkles. "Enough of this Jarhead though," he pauses and cants his head at her. "What about you? What made you fancy computers so much?" Maybe that answer was easily given other than his own? Who knew.
He chews on that piece of peach.
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Post by Violet Collins on Feb 12, 2010 4:37:31 GMT -5
Nathan sounds so ancient, so disillusioned by what has passed; and yet his face carries little evidence of the passing of time. She gazes up at him as he speaks, distractedly dragging jagged pieces of cornbread along the side of her place to gather the tepid yolk, before popping them into her mouth to chew on slowly, deliberately. Hesitantly she picks up her fork once more, shifting her weight so that she can stretch her left leg and curl the other beneath her for a while. Leaning forward on one elbow, she pokes a cut-up piece of meat, bringing it past her lips as he questions her in return.
His demeanour suggests he does not want to talk about it anymore, about a past that clearly disturbs him, if only sufficiently to make him act the way he did when he spoke of it. Swallowing harshly, not getting much of a chance to chew, Violet reaches for the cup of tea hastily to calm the coughing fit her gulp ensues. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she raises the mug to her lips and takes three large gulps, nearly causing herself to choke once more. Setting everything down, she turns away from the table to cough into her elbow fold, forcing herself to dislodge the food stuck in her oesophagus.
Finally, she stops, taking a deep breath as she turns to him with teary eyes and a red face. Offering him a sheepish laugh, she coughs a few more times before finally replying: “I don’t know...”
Shifting her weight, she uncurls her leg from beneath her and stretches it out. Her foot gingerly hits something and she quickly withdraws both legs towards the underside of her seat, offering him a hasty apology as she assumes the collision involved his shin. Reaching for her tea once more, she leans back into the booth and cups the mug beneath her chin.
“I like simplicity...” she tries again, turning the twirling the cup so that her opposite hand now grasps the handle, “...which I know is ironic considering it is technically complex systems I deal with, but...” Violet clearly as been confronted with a few disbelieving statements regarding the practicality and simplicity of advanced technology.
“I like structure and with computers there is a certain continuity. So when shit happens, 99.9% of the time it is due to human error... But the beauty of it is that it can be fixed, because there’s this proven pattern that has to be followed. It’s not an approximate science, it’s just, simple... in it’s own way. I just hate not being able to fix a problem...” she shrugs slightly, offering him a toothless smile. Then Violet takes a sip of her drink and glances sideways to make eye contact with a passing waitress. Raising her cup slightly so that the waitress can see what it is she wants, the blonde glances back at him. She hasn’t been this open since her last Facebook update, yet it feels so weird talking about such things to a real person. It shouldn’t though, but she can’t help herself from being discomforted by being so honest... perhaps now that he is no longer a stranger, the appeal will ebb.
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