Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 20 November 2004 |
| Who: | Damien, Elizabeth, Ellen, Killian, Pan, Sephael |
| What: | Random chit-chat at the Foo.Bar. Pan delivers her thank-you note to Damien. |
Foo.Bar.Com
A cybercafe like no other, instead of just catering to the tech-savy with a wireless connection or having pay-per-minute computer stations, Foo.Bar.Com has free access for everyone. If you've got a laptop but no wireless connection, there's plug in stations for dialup or high-speed. If you want to use one of the Foo.Bar.Com computers, there's no charge, as long as you buy a drink or something to eat. And in the background at all times there is playing a sci-fi movie or reruns of old sci-fi TV shows.
What few realize is that the Foo.Bar.Com cafes are a means for Jean to watch the trends and ideas of humans who deal with technology the most.
Another lazy Saturday afternoon, oh happy day! Elizabeth is sitting on her favorite couch - part of a comfy little seating cluster in the rear of the cafe - and typing away on her laptop. Her legs are propped up on the coffee table (for shame!) and she occasionally leans forward to take a sip for the mug of hot chocolate currently sitting on the coffee table by her left leg.
Damien pushes his way into Foo.Bar.Com in mid-afternoon, clutching the bag that holds his laptop. He stops at the little coffee bar first, and orders something with some kind of ridiculously long name of Italian words all strung together nonsensically, confuses the poor person working at the counter, tries to define them, gives up, orders something else confusing, and then finally just gets a coffee with cream and sugar. He scans the place, spies Elizabeth, and breaks into a smile. He makes his way Elizabeth-wards.
Killian was indulging one of his not so secret vices. Video Games. He loved these things. He didn't exactly know why, either. If he wasn't so focused on making everything perfect, he'd be paying attention to the world at large. As it was, there was only one little part of him paying attention to anything, and that was like a comfortable and warm hum at the back of his skull.
"Need more Pylons!" said the computer. Killian grumbled and clicked his mouse a few times. Silly Protoss and needing their Pylons.
Pan bounds in, stomps right up to the counter (though she tosses a wave to Damien and Elizabeth, it's a quick one), and holds up ten one dollar bills to the man at the counter and says, "May I buy a laptop?"
The guy at the counter looks at the money, and then back to Pan, "Uh, we don't sell 'em here, miss..."
Pan, who happens to be clean today no thanks to a certain ELIZABETH TRAITOR, says, "...Oh. Just a DOUBLE SUPER CHEESEBURGER Meal with Fries with Mayo -and- Ketchup on it, and a Super Size Mega Sprite!"
The door chimes and a homelessman drags in. He's not your average Drag Rat who's "fighting the Man" and wearing an old Misfits t-shirt. he shakes off slightly as he comes in from the rain, dusting water from his copious facial hair. He harumphs slightly and moves towards the counter, drawing odd looks from many patrons, which he ignores with the practice of a man who's been doing it for years.
Elizabeth is engrossed in her typing, and doesn't seem to notice Damien until he's reasonably close to her. Eventually, however, she does look up. Spotting Damien, she smiles and pats the empty space on the couch next to her. "Have a seat, Damien, and tell me how my favorite political consultant is doing." She even pulls her legs up out of the way to let him pass.
Damien slides into the spot next to Elizabeth, and starts to unpack his laptop. He sets his coffee down. "Busy. Just very busy. There has a big smokescreen to cover Greenspan's reports on the falling dollar, so they're trying to spew anything they can into the news cycle -- the Delay nonsense, the anti-abortion bill in the yearly spending bill, all sorts of things. Lots of phone calls last twenty-four hours. When it rains, it pours. You?"
Pan pays for the food, but she doesn't get it instantly (Except her soda), food takes time to make and prepare! She takes a step towards Elizabeth and Damien, but something else quicky grabs her attention....VIDEO GAMES!!!! Pan grabs a seat, hefts it up, and sets it down RIGHT NEXT to Killian, and she says, "Who'ya fighting, who'ya fighting? Build a battleship!", she proclaims eagerly.
Elizabeth sighs and says, "Like the falling dollar should have been news to anyone? Ah well. Me, I've been enjoying the weekend. Getting a few online card games in; it's light and fluffy, but it keeps me in practice." She lowers her voice and murmurs, "Bit of an inconvenience last night; you might have heard about it."
Killian blinked a few times, knocked out of his reverie that was Starcraft. "Uh...The Zerg." Absently, he clicked on the icon that was to build a battleship! Even though he just wanted some Dark Archons and Templars. Nasty Zerg, they needed to feel some Protoss anger. The warm buzz in his head got a little attention for a split second. All seemed well, so he pushed his awareness away from it.
Peering down at Pan, he looked thoughtful. This was one of those things he wasn't used to yet. "You here by yourself? You seem a bit young to be here alone, kid."
Damien flips open his laptop and settles against the cushions. "I read something in the paper this morning about wild animals? I wasn't really clear. It said several bodies were found, and they were blaming wild animals, but nothing about an escape from the zoo or spotting bears or anything like that."
Pan giggles, "The zerg are -so gross-.", she glances up, "Uhh...weeeell, I'm used to it, 'snot like I got a -real- family, if you know what I mean.", she flashes a toothy smile, "Strategy games are totally cool, but you should call me Pan, what's your name? You're cool if you're playing Protoss.", she sluuurrrps on her soda.
As the homeless man approaches the counter, a Foo.Bar staffer approaches and intercepts him. "I don't mean to be rude, sir," he staffer says, "but if you plan on using one of our computers, we ask that you buy something and, well..." He trails off, embarassed to point out the man's obvious poorness.
"Oh," the homeless man says, "I don't have an email or anything. I was just looking for a dry place and maybe a cup o' water. Can you help me out? I'll stick to the corner, if you'd rather I not scare off bussiness."
Elizabeth snorts. "Wild animals? Now that's a lame cover story. Let's just say that there have been... indiscretions. Criminal indiscretions, one might say. Not your style at all, though, so don't worry." She pats Damien's shoulder affectionately. "But I ought to look into to it, so please let me know if you hear anything that might be relevant. Or if you make any contacts within the police department in general, for that matter. I could use the connections." She frowns and picks up her mug.
Damien reaches for his own cup of coffee, and glances over at the homeless man. "I'll try to listen for something, but I have no idea what is going on... I think that man needs someone to buy him a coke." With his free hand, he reaches into his jeans pocket.
Killian frowned slightly, those protective instincts cranking into high gear for a moment before shoving them down. "I'm Killian. Nice to meet you, Pan." It was hard to keep his voice away from that patronizing tone that many adults used with children. Though, to be fair, his /would/ have been out of genuine concern.
"And, yeah. The Zerg are gross." And too much like demons for his taste, which is why he liked squishing them.
Elizabeth waves Damien off and says, "By all means, buy him something. You can even invite him back here, but he's sitting next to you, not me. I've had a few... painful encounters with the local vagrants in my time. It should be understandable if I am a bit wary."
Pan giggles again, "Nice to meetcha Killy!", she glances over to the homeless man and says, "Hey, you wan' my burger an' fries? I ordered some, but I'm not really -that- hungry, so you can have it when they're done makin' it.", she looks to Damien for a moment, a bizarre thoughtful look crossing her face before she looks back to Killian. She grins widely again and adds, "I like squishing 'em like bugs, but I have to use The Tyrant's comp if I'm gonna play so I'm not very good, but I like making the big Boomy stuff."
Damien gets up off the couch, leaving his coffee and laptop in Elizabeth's care, some change in his hand. He stands there for a moment, counting his change, and then walks over to the counter. He noses past the patrons in line to stand next to the homeless man, and offers the buck and change it costs for a coke at a place like this to the guy at the counter. "Hey, look," he says to the guy at the counter. "It looks like he's good for a Coke. Can you give him a coke and let him stay for a while? I doubt he's doing any real harm." He puts the change on the counter.
The Foo.Bar employee looks back and forth from the homeless man to Pan, then decides to make a move and get back to work. "Water?" he asks and the homelss man nods and says, "Bless you." He then turns to the little girl who addressed him. His bushy eyebrows furrow at her and he says, "Are you sure? You look like you could use more weight, and you're young'n growin'. I wouldn't take food out of the mouths of babes."
As Damien walks up the homeless man puts up his hand, "Oh, no... I don't do well with the sugar. If," he eyes Damien's money, "If you'd like to do me a favor, though, a muffin or something..." he trails off, squinting at the menu.
That was a...strange nickname, but, hey. He'd allow it. It probably looked a bit callous, but he...pretty much ignored the homeless man. Mostly because of bad experiences with another one. Back on the pleasant topic of making Zerg explode, Killian said, "I like air-dropping Archons and Templars in their bases. They squish 'em /real/ good." He grinned a bit maliciously as he clicked again and did just that, about three of the dropships started across the map towards the giant pile of squishies.
"I don't wanna grow up, I'm a toys-r-us kid," Pan quips, "But seriously, not hungry, and if I don't save up room for when I get back, the Matron'll probably keep me at the table till I stuff myself and my stomach explodes.", saying 'Tyrant' wouldn't have been helpful there. Even Pan can show some discretion. She looks back to Killy and giggles, "With the lightning, that's pretty cool...Zzzaaaapppop!", she wiggles her fingers in the air, sips some more, and adds, "'swhy most people just rush you when they're zergies, 'cause they know you'll kick their ass if you actually have units, right?", she positively beams. Video Games rock!
Damien reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a couple of rumpled bills to go along with the change on the counter. He asks the guy working the counter, "Can I get a blueberry muffin instead of the Coke? Yeah, one of those out of the case there. And a few pats of butter? Thanks." He waits until the muffin rings up, and pushes them toward the homeless man, and gives a little charming smile to the guy at the counter, too, before heading back toward Elizabeth and his stuff.
Elizabeth folds her laptop and slides it neatly into its case, zipping it up and putting it away. She glances around the cafe idly while Damien is up at the counter, her brows drawing together slightly at the sight of Killian and his video games.
"Bless you, sir," the homeless man tells Damien as he walks away. He begins gathering his muffin and butter, then takes a deep breath at the little girl near him, "You don't have to grow up here," he taps his temple, "but you also don't want to be a pipsqueek all your life. You keep your burger, I've got something to put in my belly thanks t'that nice man." He hefts his muffin as evidence and nods in Damien's direction.
"Exactly." grinned Killian. Video Games were great. Though he was good at strategy games, his favorites were the sappy Japanese RPGs. He always named the Hero Killian. Good thing no one knows it. He didn't really even notice the narrow eyed glare. Even if he did, he would have just smiled and waved absently. Because he's just a goody-goody, and far too nice for his own good. That and you caught more flies with honey than with vinegar. "Starcraft's fun, but I really like the historical strategy games. Like Rome: Total War. Civ III is good too."
Damien wanders back across foo.bar.com, defly avoiding other patrons and people playing video games toward Elizabeth. He slows down a bit when he realizes that she's put her laptop away and is now glaring at... he follows the glare. He looks mildly confused for a moment, not really placing Killian very well, and sits back down next to her. He asks her quietly, "Something wrong?"
Pan smiles at the homeless man, "Alright, I won't force it on you, and I'm sure you know how to take care of yourself, but good luck all the same, okay?", she pats Killian's shoulder and says, "Never saw those, heard of Civiliation though. People are all awwwwwesome over it. Be right back," she heads to the counter to get her food.
Elizabeth sighs with mild exasperation and snuggles up to Damien. Pointedly. "No, nothing really wrong," she murmurs in his ear. "I'm just... mildly irritated. It seems that my stalker from the bookstore has shown up here, remember him? He seems pretty harmless to me, but it does rather put a damper on things when he pops up all over the place."
Sephael nods to Pan and takes a seat somewhat near to Killian's computer since that's just where he happens to be. He glances outside at the rain which might be letting up a bit, then carefully tears his muffin in half. He wraps one half up in the paper cup it came in and places it in the breast pocket of his flannel shirt with the butter pats, then begins to slowly eat the other half, with a small smile.
Damien dutifully wraps an arm around Elizabeth, in kind of an unconscious boyfriend style, and follows her gaze to Killian. His brow furrows, and he whispers to Elizabeth, "Him? He's your stalker? Are you sure that you two just don't keep showing up in the same places together? He doesn't look terribly scary."
Ellen comes in the door, glancing around the room as she enters to check out who and what is there. Pleased anticipation sparkles in her eyes at the prospect of information awaiting in the many screens, and hot coffee at the counter. She goes to the latter first, ordering something for herself and continuing to observe the premises as she waits.
Elizabeth snickers softly as she snuggles in under Damien's arm. "Like I said, he seems harmless to me. It's not that he's scary, really. It's that it's irritating having him following me around like a puppy dog. I'm sure that you've figured out that I like to keep some of my business sub rosa," she says in appropriately hushed tones. "It's hard to meet people discreetly with him dogging my heels."
Killian turned back to his screen to see that his nice little hourde of Protoss just got wasted by a rear attack. This is what happens when you stop paying attention. Apparently things needed clicks to keep stuff going. "Aw crap. Oh well." He grumbled a bit and just quit the game. He paid for his time already, so it was time to switch to something much more satisfying. Doom 3. Yep. It was demon blasting time. Oh look. THere went his attention again, right into the computer.
Damien considers the Killian situation mildly, and then leans down and picks up his coffee with his free hand. So, Elizabeth in one hand, coffee in the other. He slurps a bit, puts the coffee down, and says quietly, "Oh, I think he's harmless."
Pan gets her food and heads on back to Killy....and snickers a little, "Sneaky buggers," she leans inward a bit, "Woaaah, you've got Doom 3 too!?", Pan has a moment of indecisiveness....before saying, "Where do you live? You should invite me over sometime so I can play sometime," she gave into temptation!! "Not many video games home...", she tries to give Killy the 'poor lost orphan child look'.
Elizabeth stretches out her left hand towards her mug, reluctant to leave the snuggle. Hmm. Arm not long enough. Carefully, she pushes the mug closer to her with her left foot until it is right at the edge of the coffe table and tries again. Success! She snags the hot chocolate and says lightly, "Oh, I'm not arguing with you on that count, darling. Still, isn't a girl allowed to find it irritating to be followed by even the most harmless of men? It's not like I'm asking you to beat him up in the back alley or anything."
Ellen smiles as she gets something very nice... a pecan roll, and a cup of coffee. Searching for a seat, she finds one near where Pan, Killian and Sephael are. "Hello Pan," she smiles warmly at the girl, and nods politely to the two guys, even if one of 'em is a bum.
Sephael smiles warmly at Ellen and returns her nod, "Ma'am." He savors the muffin Damien bought him, munching slowly, hunched slightly so as to be unobtrusive, as he mentioned to the Foo.Bar guy who didn't kick him out.
Damien slurps from more of his coffee, and then just shrugs. "Well, okay." He lets Elizabeth go and leans back against the couch. "So, um, can you tell me what happened yesterday? Or no. Do you know? Was it too weird?"
Pan waves over to Ellen, "Hey Ellen, you make any mummies yet?", she flashes Ellen a bright smile, "Haven't seen you in a while, what have you been up to?"
"I didn't think you'd have a problem with weird," Elizabeth chuckles. She turns sideways on the couch to face Damien, sitting Indian-style. "Pretty weird, though," she whispers, leaning forward a bit so that the sound won't have to carry as far. "A lot of disturbance, three dead bodies, and someone in costume - Commedia dell'Arte style, masks and all - leaning over the bodies. The costume is suspicious. It points an obvious finger - too obvious."
Ellen's eyebrow quirks suspiciously at Pan. "Make mummies?..." Gee, that was a nice question to ask her. "I am not in the habit of doing so, no, Pan. My interest in ancient Egypt is philosophical. As to what I have been up to, the usual things... writing, studying." She sighs a bit, running a hand over her hair, perhaps belying her words. "How about you, Pan?"
Damien slurps from his coffee thoughtfully, and says, quietly, "Oh? How... um, interesting." He's frowning at his coffee. The coffee does not frown back. Then he asks, "Anything else?"
Sephael raises his eyebrow at the mention of mummies, but doesn't intrude; he's homeless and that alone often embarasses people who aren't.
Elizabeth shrugs and says quietly, "There were some Songs used, and it seems like the perpetrator used Cel Motion to flee the scene. The mundane cops showed up not too long after, but they dispersed to investigate gunfire in a neighboring building. I don't know if that was related or not. The neighborhood's bad enough that it could have been coincidental."
Pan says, "I haven't been kidnapped by space aliens or anything yet, the -cool- thing though is that I got to see someone play Starcraft, and he built a battleship just like I asked, and it was totally awesome!", she takes in a deep breath, "I got soaked though.", she frowns, "Elizabeth and The Tyrant managed to get me in the bath. It was horrible, but I got The Tyrant back, she now knows what it's like to be drenched," she chuckles a little before shifting in her pocket and withdrawing the envelope for Damien. She tries to chuck it at him, but the envelope twirls a bit and hits the ground instead. Pan frowns.
Damien starts to say something, and it's probably profound. Then Pan throws an envelope in the air. He watches it hit the floor with a very soft little snick.
Sephael leans towards Pan and offers conspiratorily, "You should appriciate your baths, young one, else someone might take them away from you and your hair will turn into barbed wire." As evidence he offers exhibit A: his beard.
Elizabeth watches the envelope fly and-- hey, that looks familiar. She nudges Damien with an elbow and says, "You might want to go pick that up; I think it's for you." She points at Pan's envelope on the floor.
Damien erms mildly. The coffee goes on the table and Damien gets up off the couch to walk across Foo.Bar.Com, flash a look at Pan, lean over, and pick up the envelope. He stands in the middle of the shop and carefully opens the envelope with his thumb.
Pan says, "I think your hair looks cool," simply, "I don't think I'll grow a beard though,", she stands up .. and sits back down as Damien goes ahead and picks it up. She chomps into her burger. Yummy Meat's a Tasty Treat! -Inside- the envelope is a thank you letter. In -glitter-. It says 'Thank You Dameien!' just like that in blue and green glitter.
Sephael chuckles low, like a rumble from deep in the earth, "Well, thankyou. And I don't know... if you grow a beard at least you'll never be out of work. People would pay to see the bearded lady." He winks, then offers a hand to her for shaking, "Call me Seth."
A slight grin plays across Elizabeth's face as she watches Damien for his reaction to the thank-you note.
Damien looks baffled for a moment, absolutely baffled. And maybe a little horrified. It's like he's waiting for the envelope to explode or to start sending up pillars of deadly smoke or some other nefarious scheme from a comic book. When it doesn't happen, he folds the envelope in half, thaws a bit, gives Pan a bright smile and a nod, and heads back toward Elizabeth.
When Damien returns, Elizabeth says quietly, "She gave me one, too - and not nearly so merited. It was your money, after all. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure that it's not from your boss. Are you feeling okay? It didn't occur to me until I saw your reaction what you would most likely think. An oversight on my part."
Ellen chuckles a bit at Sephael's words, though there is a trace of sadness as she regards him. She wants to play the 'Feed the Bum' game, too, so she starts to rip off a strip of nice, gooey pecans from her roll. She watches the envelope toss with mild amusement. "A lot of people have been getting those, haven't they, Pan?" she inquires.
Pan waves over to Damien and grins at him before glancing back to Sephael and slurping on her soda again. "Three people exactly. Two of them are here, I haven't seen the third one Since That Fateful Night.", her eyes widen as she says that last bit. "D'ya think I'd be a good bearded lady? Would they let me shave? If I'm going to have a beard, it should be a good beard..."
Damien sits back down next to Elizabeth with a dark and contemplative look on his face. He glances again at Pan, and says quietly, "There's something going on here and I don't know enough to be sitting around comfortably anymore."
Sephael chuckles more and sips from his plastic cup of water. "I'm sure they'd let you trim it, but, really you want a better job than that," he says, "Maybe they'll let you make those video games for a living." He nods to the nearest computer.
Elizabeth sighs and says, "Damien, she's thanking you for buying her drinks that night, remember? You gave me a twenty and told me that it was to cover the girl's drinks right before you ran out. It's not a sinister plot, honest. There are sinister plots enough going on, but that isn't one of them. Trust me, I know my plotting." She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, then extends her mug out to Damien. "Here, you want some?"
Damien takes the mug gratefully and slurps a little hot chocolate. "Have you ever heard the song 'The Ballad of the Thin Man' from Highway 61 Revisited by Bob Dylan, Elizabeth?"
"Three people? What have they done to merit such an artistic commendation?" Ellen smiles at Pan, then turns her attention back to Sephael. "Ah, Seth," she smiles. "I'm Ellen." She reaches out to offer him the piece of gooey pecan roll. "Why don't you try this, it's rather unique. Just be careful it doesn't get stuck in your beard," she chuckles. Poor guy, getting treated like a bear at a state park. She doesn't overhear Elizabeth and Damien's discussion of sinister plots, otherwise she'd be getting suspicious too.
Elizabeth shakes her head and says, "No, I haven't. Why do you ask? Is it good, or just relevant?"
Damien says quietly to Elizabeth, "The main refrain for the song is, 'Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is, do you, Mister Jones?' Sometimes I kind of feel trapped in that song. Oh, not about the note. Just in general."
Sephael shifts his hand to shake Ellen's but finds he's given a piece of pecan roll. he blinks at it, then smirks and says, "Bless you, ma'am." He takes a single bite of it, then takes his half-a-muffin out and rolls them together for better storage.
Pan says, "Various stuff, mostly bought stuff for the kids and I. Drinks, to be specific.", she leans against the counter, yawns, and finishes off her burger...and then moves onto the fries. "Making video games would be pretty cool, but there must be some magic involved there or something."
"Oh," Elizabeth says softly. "I really am sorry, Damien. I wish I could tell you more, but... security. And I don't know everything, anyway. You'd probably be safer and happier for now if you decided to just push me away and maintain your low profile." She frowns, extending her hand toward Damien's arm but not quite touching it. Her hand just hovers over his biceps, waiting.
Ellen waits til the sticky pecans are out of Sephael's hand before shaking it. Otherwise, they might get stuck together! "Magic?" she responds with a quaint smile to Pan's words. "Perhaps. It's said that any sufficiently sophisticated form of technology is equivalent to magic." She smiles again, "Consider the internet, for instance. People's thoughts orbiting the globe at the speed of light, connecting across millions of miles... it's almost like telepathy."
Sephael chuckles, "Aye. There must. If I knew it, maybe I wouldn't be accepting pieces of pecan rolls from nice women named Ellen." To the woman he says, "Who said that... Wans't it Arthur C. Clarke?"
Damien leans back again, a little more relaxed, Elizabeth's mug in his hands, and toward Elizabeth. He scans the room, partially out of interest, partially out of curiosity, and starts watching Pan, Sephael and Ellen's little group with a bit of interest.
Pan says, "...Uh, okay," she wrinkles her nose at Ellen before stuffing some more fries in her mouth. She chews, gets an idea, and offers Ellen some of the fries. "Have some," she urges hopefully.
Elizabeth watches Damien watching the other table for a moment, then squeezes his arm and says softly, "Look, I've got some things to take care of elsewhere. Take care of yourself, darling. And you can keep the hot chocolate." She leans forward to give Damien a brief hug, then picks up her laptop carry-case and stands.
Damien waves to Elizabeth, looking mildly guilty for a moment, and then says, "Thanks for the hot chocolate. I'll call you later."
Ellen smiles, dipping her head with a modest half-chuckle as Sephael calls her 'nice.' "Yes, it was Clarke," she nods. "Do you like science fiction, Seth?" She then chuckles as it's her turn to have someone hand food at her. "Thank you, Pan," she smiles, taking one or two fries. Her gaze passes lightly across the room to observe Elizabeth leaving, and the guy who is evidently her 'boyfriend'.
Elizabeth says, "No problem, you're worth far more than a cup of cocoa to me." She winks at Damien, then adds, "Good-bye, darling." She then heads out of the cafe, giving Pan and Ellen's table a long look in passing.
Pan looks over to Elizabeth, "Aww!", she says, "Leaving so soon? Nice to see-ya.", she finishes off her own fries glances to Elizabeth again as she passes, and gives a thoughtful 'hrm'. She stands up as well.
"Oh," Seth says to Ellen, waving his hand, "I read all those old guys when I was in school, yeah. I, ah, can't afford to shop at Barnes & Noble these days, though." He shrugs as if it were a small thing he refered to.
Ellen waves to Elizabeth with a friendly smile as she goes by, then looks at Pan. "Are you leaving too?" she asks, then replies to Seth, "Ah. You wouldn't happen to know of my work, then? I've written a few things the Free Space series... "The Great Jailbreak" is the best-known."
Sephael shakes his head sadly and says, "I haven't read any good fiction in the last," he waves his hand, "Say five years. The Texan doesn't count because it's not GOOD fiction. Sports section isn't bad, I guess."
Damien watches Elizabeth leave thoughtfully. He finally leans over to his own laptop, his half-finished cup of coffee and now the hot chocolate. Everything goes on the table before him, and he turns his attention, almost wholly, to his own laptop.
Pan mmhmms, "I'm done eating, after all. Catch you later, El.", she gives another wave to Damien, and pats Seph on the shoulder on her way out.
"Take care, young one," Seth calls at Pan's retreating back, "And try not t' fight off the baths so much!"
"Good night, Pan," Ellen smiles to the girl. "Take care." She looks back at Seth. "Ah, you have not had a chance to read lately? That is unfortunate." She regards him sympathetically. For her, that would be a tragic circumstance indeed.
Sephael shrugs, "You gotta prioritize. In winter, paper is insulation. What'm I gonna do, spend all my time reading? A man's got to eat..."
Ellen nods, "That is so." She sits thoughtfully a moment. "How long have you been... on the road, Seth?" she inquires softly.
Sephael chuckles, "That's a nice way of puttin' it." He shrugs, then, and answers the question, "You loose track of the large scale when you're living day to day, you know? It's been a long time since I've been home."
Damien looks up mildly from his typing and gazes over toward Ellen and Sephael. He reaches for his coffee and takes a long, contemplative drink.
Ellen nods quietly. "I am sorry to hear that," she says softly. "It must be difficult. Are you... all alone? Do you have any family?"
Sephael waves a hand to indicate the whole world. "Here are there," he says, "But I don't like to ask them for things. I used to live up north and made a pretty good family with some other guys up there, but eventually they did okay without me, so I moved on. Now I'm here."
Ellen nods. "Ah. How do you like it here in Austin, Seth?" She smiles a bit. "I will admit I am rather new to the place myself." She is, as yet, unaware of being observed by Elizabeth's Boyfriend.
Damien just passively watches the two.
Sephael looks at his wrist as if it held a watch and says, "A couple days now. I hitchhiked in from over Llano way, an' packed it over t' here. I hear that the Drag does fairly well by us homeless folk, but I wonder... There are kind of a lot of us, and most of us beggars, t' boot."
Ellen strokes her lip, "I wouldn't know what the best place in town for that would be. I've never had to, fortunately." She sips her coffee thoughtfully. "Are you looking for work, too?"
Sephael finishes off the water that he's been nursing this whole time and says, "I don't have an address, so I can't really fill out the tax paperwork. If someone's willing to pay a smelley homeless guy to do something on a regular basis, then I'd rather it be someone besides myself, anwyay. I'm more resourceful than most. But I hear there's a kind of news paper or newsletter called the Homeless Advocate that you can help produce and sell and earn a bit o' scratch."
Damien, finishing his drinks, makes a point of putting the cups into the little bin for them to be cleaned up. He packs up his laptop, brushes himself off, and stands. On his way out of Foo.Bar.Com, he brushes by Ellen and Sephael's table. He stops for a moment, nods to them, says, "Miss. Uh..." He considers Sephael. "Are you going to be okay for the night? Some place to stay?"
Ellen nods to Sephael, and hmms. "It's rather unfortunate that the taxes and regulations interfere with those who'd be willing to hire," she remarks. She then looks up at Damien, smiling a bit as he makes his generous offer to Sephael.
Sephael breaks into a grimey smile at Damien's offer. "You're too kind, sir," he says, "I could rob you or just stink up your living room. But I have selfish reasons to decline, too. I'm new here and I've got t' get my bearings and make seom friends in the land, if you take my meaning. Plus," he adds, patting his flanel pocket, "I'm already in your debt for the muffin. You need a favor, you let me know. As ask for Seth."
"Erm," says Damien. "Actually, I was going to see if I could find you a shelter or something. My place is a little... small. Anyway, I'm happy you have a place to stay. Anyway, have a good evening, yes?"
Sephael opens both his hands at Damien and spreads his hands, "My apologies. I assumed a bit much. In any case, stay well, sir. And bless you, again."
Damien gets a little wry smile. "Thank you." He nods to the woman at Seth's table. "Um, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"I'm Ellen," Ellen smiles at the nice, kind man.
Damien nods to Ellen. "I'm Damien Hirsh."
"Ah, nice to meet you, Damien," Ellen replies. "It's good to see someone who likes to help others." She smiles warmly at him and Seph.
Damien shifts a little bit and runs his hand through his hair. "Yeah. Um. Very nice to meet you both."
Sephael offers his hand to Damien to shake, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Hirsh. Remmeber: You need something you find me. I'll be around."
Damien hesitates one second and then takes the hand to shake it. He gives both Seth and Ellen a friendly smile. "Sure. I'll remember that."
Ellen watches the two and smiles. "You're a friend of Elizabeth's, aren't you, Damien? I saw you two sitting together," she remarks.
"Oh, uh," Damien runs his hand through his hair again. "I suspect I'm the official Boyfriend."
"Ah, well good for you," Ellen smiles to Damien. "Looks like you're a lucky guy." As long as Elizabeth doesn't yell at him like she's seen her yell at several other people.
Damien says, a little uncomfortably to Ellen, "Well, she seems very nice. We haven't been together very long. But anyway, I should go. I have piles of work and I should do it at home." He nods to Seth one more time, and says, "Have a good evening."
Sephael nods to the departing man and then shrugs and glances outside as the sky slowly darkens. "D'you often spend time chatting up scraggley, unbathed older men?" he asks, "Or am I anomolous?" Half a beat after he asks that he says, "If you've things t' do, don't let me keep you from them."
Ellen arches an eyebrow mildly. "'Chatting up'? Why shouldn't I speak with whomever is there beside me? And, besides," she smiles, "you seem like a friendly enough person. As for things to do," she looks at the screen before her, "I was going to search the web a little, but I can do that while talking."
Seth smiles slightly. "I didn't mean it like that," he says, "Just that most folks won't like t' talk t' a man who's not bathed in... a long time." He shrugs, then asks, "Do you write for a living, then?"
"Yes, I do," Ellen nods, clicking on a link. "Both fiction and philosophical works. Some people would say they're the same thing," she chuckles. She's looking at a site about ancient mythology and magickal practices.
Sephael glances at the screen, but pays it little attention. "Some people are fools," he says, "What's your, ah, area, I guess? I myself rather like existentialism, but I have to admit I'm not very well versed."
"I consider myself a Postmodern Individualist," Ellen informs Sephael, as she continues her search. "Most of my writings relate to Transhumanism, the belief that we humans can evolve beyond our current state, to reach a greater level of being."
Sephael snorts in surprise. "Woah," he says after a moment, "That's heavy."
Ellen turns her head at Sephael's snort. "Actually, there are many respectable scientists who believe that within the next generation or two, we may conquer aging -- even death. I happen to believe that a major transformation is approaching soon." She smiles radiantly at the thought.
Sephael stands and says, "I didn't say impossible, just heavy. It was nice meeting you, Ms., ah... Ellen. I'm gonna see if I can find a place to sleep. You take care." He bows slightly to her, then, and heads for the door. He waves to the Foo.Bar.Com guy who let him stay earlier, then hits the street.
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