Exacting Revenge, Funny Hero Man, and Cardlovers
2.12.17 - Red Dragon Inn
(From Live play with Lyall British. Heavily edited for flow.)
Mostly Lyall always seems like he's missed a really inconvenient dentist appointment. Not that he wanted to be where he was but that if the timing was off it would be even more painful to rectify it. The brim of his hat was concentrated on his brow, his hands shuffling floppy and too-bent-and-beat-up papers in hand. He walked in the inn with the same air of most of the locals. Like he knew the place but still, his gaze jumped up and around as if he wasn't entirely sure what to expect.
The best place to be was at a bar. If you stood in the middle of a room people might start thinking that you intended to sell bibles. Okay. It's almost ten thirty. That time sounded familiar. Ten thirty. Who was his ten thirty? He turned the page over in his hand and then looked up, inching his glasses back up his nose as he looked for a bartender.
There's a whole performance there to derail his thoughts. Not that it took much, but still. He was getting there. Derailed, that is. Not there.
Chloe's shift at the Diner had finished about twenty minutes ago. She'd whipped off her skates and apron in record time, only to break into a full sprint toward the Red Dragon where she agreed to meet some funny fellow. God, she hoped he could dish out the painnn. She had some vengeance to dish out. After huffing and puffing in a full on run, she bounded up those porch steps and flung her small body through the front door. Too loud. Too fast. She let out a yelp as her balance teetered and down she went to the floor. "Sonofabitch!"
"Last call for service before I leave!" Reiko Souma then announced.
She did hear the last call being called by some woman and her head popped up, her chin a bit red from smacking it on the floor. Raising her hand from where she'd belly flopped, she called out to Reiko. "Tea! Honey tea! I'll take tea please!"
He was checking the door over his shoulder, anyway. If there had been a barkeep he would have ordered something appropriate. Something like a Pimm's Cup. There wasn't time to order, though, before there was a very ominous sound at the door. He cringed before he looked and then looked at the woman (Reiko) when she made a last call, "I'll have a vodka with lemonade, if you don't mind."
It was a little more stout than a Pimm's Cup to say the least. No, she wasn't the ten thirty and if he ignored her long enough, that was bound to be true. Focus on the barkeep.
"One honey tea and one vodka with lemonade, coming right up~!" Announced Reiko. There was still hot water in the kettle, so that was used for the tea, which had some honey added with it as requested. Then the vodka with lemonade was made and mixed. Both drinks were placed in front of those who had asked for them, respectively. "Your honey tea," setting the cup in front of Chloe, "and your vodka with lemonade." Which was set in front of Lyall. "Enjoy!" She started to do a quick wipedown of the bar with a towel.
Puffing out her cheeks, she planted her palms to the floor and grunted, wiggled and squirmed her way to her feet. She seemed absolutely fine. Perhaps because that had been the third time today she'd busted her ass. Sniffling once, she lifted that chin that would surely bruise later with pride. Brushing off the front of her sweater and jeans, she made her way toward the bar. "Thank you," she called to Reiko, making her way to the bar and heaved herself onto a stool just as Rei put down her tea. "Mhn, tea." Digging into her pocket, she pulled out a few crumpled bills and some loose change in the ball of her fist before pushing them to the tender. "Keep it,? she abruptly scanned the room with narrowed eyes. Where's the Funny Man? Code name. Definitely.
"Many thanks," Lyall scrambled for some change. Not this pocket. That pocket. Nooo... the other pocket. Right. There it is. And with that he was able to lay down the right coinage for his purchase. He sat in one of the barstools as if that might keep the universe from doing something terrible. He was pretty sure it was already doing something terrible. If he focused on his drink it would be okay. With low and dread filled tones Lyall's voice met her gaze. She had a code name, too, "Ten thirty?"
Leveling her gaze on Lyall with her best serious expression, she squared her shoulders and stared at him with those uncanny bright blues. Leaning a bit, she whispered, "...Are you the Funny Man?" Lifting her brows as she tipped that red chin.
"The Piano Man?" He said, having misheard her and somehow, partly, knowing it. His verbage corrected and his shoulders sank a little. Why couldn't he just be the handsome man? The mysterious yet still alluring man? "Yes, I'm..." there was a swallow without his drink, then a swallow with before he replied, "I'm the funny man. You came with what we agreed?"
"...I don't know, can you play piano?" She blinked at him, questioning his rebuttal name until she shook her head. If that's what he wanted to be called, Chloe may not be the best. She wasn't good at flirting. Nodding when he said he was the funny man, those bright blues widened hopefully until he asked if she had what they agreed. Straightening her back, she hugged her midsection as if hiding something. ... She wasn't good at this thing. "I might.. did you get the job done?" She squinted at him, trying so very hard to be serious. And.. she might've just looked like she was going to sneeze.
It was fairly important not to flirt with him, lest he get flustered. Women didn't flirt with him, not on purpose, anyway. Sometimes there was some accidental flirting that happened, like when a woman was flirting with the guy next to him. Or because they thought he was someone else. She asked if he got the job done and he was beginning to wonder if the metaphors were starting to wiggle out from their grasp, "I mean, I always come with the goods delivered." Before he dug the hole deeper, he reached inside his double breasted coat pocket to withdraw a fat envelope and slide it to her. There was money or a dead mouse, or anything money/mouselike inside it.
Seeing that flat envelope being slid to her, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and grinned. Nodding, she lifted the front of her sweater -there was a shirt beneath, calm down Lyall! Don't fall off your stool- and tucked between was her own flat envelope, folded to she could tuck it into the waistband of her jeans. Giving a shifty glance around like they were committing a crime, she tugged out the folder and practically flung it into his lap. "Good, good. I got the stuff." Nodding, ticking her brows like it was the good stuff. Only for the excitement to get the best of her and she slapped her hand on the envelope he'd passed and slid her hand between the flaps. "Come on babyyyyy, come to mama~" She sang, only to pluck out... a single card. A very rare, Mew Pokemon card. Giggling like a maniac, her wide mouth curled like the damned Joker's smile. "My elementary school enemy is TOAST. That cheating son of a bitch."
Oh no. He had zero hope for that. It would have only been with something like accidental nipple that he would have collapsed from his barstool. So his gaze wasn't averted. He stared like he was looking at her shoe. Okay, he stared like he was looking at her shoe while not being someone with a foot fetish. He definitely wasn't one of those. Not that he didn't like feet they just weren't erotic. Well, they could be cute in one of other shoes with the heels and the straps. But he didn't think about feet like that. Or not think about them like that. They were feet and. Well. He had no idea what it was he had given her, but that was the way things went with him more often than not. Acquiring, giving and rerouting things of "value" that he couldn't entirely comprehend. He opened the envelope she gave him skeptically, drawing out from it what it appeared to be a hand written recipe for... well, the exact and correct way (no arguments allowed) to make chocolate chip thunderstorm cookies. The truth was that everyone had their price, even if it wasn't money. Despite everything, though, he had to crack a small smile for her and the collectible she'd won. She looked so happy. He kinda wondered what that was like, to get something that gave you such joy, "Good luck to your and your victory."
Chloe's ancient (not literally) grandmother knew the true recipe. It would seem easy to obtain, but Gramma Dunn was VERY protective of that recipe. The girl had to Indiana Jones that ****. But it was truly worth it. Clutching that single Pokemon card to her chest, she giggled like a madwoman and... just ignore the twitch to her right eye.. "Hehehehe thank you. Enjoy the... stuff." Shifting eyes. No one was to know about those cookies. Looking to the card, she started petting it like that weird creature from the Lord of the Rings. My precioussss~
He's the messenger. Don't shoot the messenger. He tucked the recipe into the envelope and then inside his jacket pocket. His right hand jumped forward to tug his sleeve back so he could check the time on his watch. Never enough time, was there? His drink tipped back and then he looked at her, "When is the duel of... cards?" He didn't understand the game, not really, but card games weren't an altogether new concept to him. It was a card for a game. At the bare bones of it, he got that she had acquired some sort of trump. For some sort of school that was in the middle of something she had to work on.
She blinked, seeming to snap out of her mini-mania moment as she cleared her throat and reached for her honey tea. "What? Oh. Um... it was... a long time ago." She admitted. She wasn't in elementary school, anymore. It was a decade and some change grudge the spaz never quite got over. "I'm... probably going to frame this." Giggling with that twitch again and she hugged the card to her chest and sipped some of that soothing tea. "He will never win another tournament again without his lucky card."
"So it was a long time ago but he's presently not going to win?" It wasn't all that confusing for someone like him. The importance of events and when they all happened tended to be, more or less, a jumble that he didn't entirely discern. He pushed up the brim of his hair, his brassy curls of hair a bit more apparent when he did so, "Did you know that card games came from China? Then to Persia. At least on Earth. Oh!" He planted one hand on the bartop, "I once was in a city that took playing cards so seriously that there were family feuds, generations deep, about it. Who had cheated, what had been forged. They played cards instead of did battle which meant that the cards came to represent money and land, homes and lives... I guess the same way that money does?" He shrugged a little in an earnest show of not being too certain.
Her wide eyes were on Lyall as he talked, holding that card to her chest and clutching that hot cup of tea. She might've abused her bottom lip a bit, only to wince when it tugged her scraped chin. "Ow, oh. Oh! That's... wow. So much importance over cards?" She blinked, glancing down to the card in her hand. "Well, I think this card is like... worth a few grand or more on Ebay these days.." Only to squint. "I understand the feuding though..." Puffing out her cheeks as she seemed to loathe that childhood mortal enemy of hers. Eyeing him for a moment, she tilted her head. "So, Funny Hero Man. What's your actual name so I don't just call you Funny Hero Man?"
"Oh yeah, Ebay... that's a serious information tide." He was only half certain that what he said even made sense, but even more certain that she wouldn't correct him. She understood feuding. Didn't everyone. Funny HERO man. That was an upgrade. No one ever said hero as an adjective for him. It was enough that he might have had a moment of confidence, the sort that made him push his shoulders back and momentarily, in the worst way possible, feel that he had the ghost-of-attractiveness about him. She was eying him. Wait. It wasn't that sort of eying. Just deflate slowly so she doesn't notice. "Lyall." The watch on his wrist beeped, as if on a timer. Once, someone said he was like the White Rabbit. He didn't understand that, even if it was painfully true. He twisted his wrist back to his eyes and then stood up, "So much more work to do, you know?" He laughed, nervously, and added, "You know how it is. Some live to work or you work to live." It sounded like really awkward conversation filler he'd overheard.
"Information tide.." She squinted. She understood Ebay to just be something to sell unwanted items on. That was about it. And buy cheap things that would probably break from. She was certainly eyeing him, but like he was suddenly some shiny White Knight. He helped her dish out her vengeance, okay? "Lyall," she sighed, nodding as if committing it to memory. "I'm Chloe." Better than Ten Thirty. Maybe. Probably not. Snickering when he told her about work, "I work to live." And almost die every day on those roller skates she lied about knowing how to use correctly on her application. Oh well. She'd learn eventually! Hopefully... But when he rose, she set aside her tea and stood to her feet. "Ngh! Before you go!" She squeaked, scrambling over to him and clutching that card for dear sweet life. If he didn't stop her, she'd be flinging her arms around him to hug him. "You are THE BEST. Ever." Squeeeeeze.
Wellll I mean he didn't always he just... he did a lot of jobs and met a lot of people and sometimes the "road" was a weird and lonely but also strangely intimate space. The hug, in short, was delicately appreciated. She might have even known by the way he exhaled as he arms fell around him that it had been a long time, a very long time, since anyone had been that grateful to *him.* He didn't need to get laid or be a sex god, he didn't have to be a Romeo with a chiseled jaw. It was all rather satisfying in a way only a fellow traveler could have understood. He'd done something, his job, and she had thrown her arms around his neck. That meant he smiled, despite himself and patted her awkwardly on the outside of the arm, "Yes... yes... Did you know that smiling is something incredibly aggressive to primates? I mean we think it's friendly but they sort of do it as a growl."
He'd made her life with this deal. It was worth Indiana Jones-ing it through her Gramma's house and risking an ass whoopin'. She didn't seem to really notice his awkwardness, being too consumed with trying to hug the life out of him until he mentioned that strange and interesting fact about primates. Her eyes that had been squeezed shut during the hug snapped open as she slowly released him. Eyes wide, she settled down on the heels of her feet from where she'd been on her tip-toes. "So that's why that monkey at the zoo tried to maul me through the bars that day. I totally thought he just hated me." Her bottom lip poked out a little bit as she blinked up at him. "...I need to apologize to him for showing aggression when I go to the zoo again.." Shaking her head, she gave that smile that always seemed too wide but really, the girl just had a big mouth. "Thank you, Lyall. Seriously. You deserve a Hero badge or something. I won't make you late for work though.." Glancing to his watch, he seemed very concerned with that watch before she attacked him with affection.
She was sort of lingering there for a long minute, wasn't she? Half in one arm, still partly wrapped up in him with her enthusiasm. She must have been one of those people that hugged a lot and didn't think anything of it, not really paying attention to the fact that she was smashed up against him. He cleared his throat, this time patting her lower back, "Yeah I mean, being late for work wouldn't work for you." That was a play on words he didn't intend and he smiled, awkwardly, knowing he had worded his intention in about the worst way possible. Less than an hour. That was the warning. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the worst thing ever to have a woman desperately hug him. Not to be creepy or anything, it was just nice. Female hugs, even if they lingered a tad longer that totally appropriate, were nice. They were! He did one backward step, navigating around hs barstool and eventually putting that foot of space between them and one less towards the door, "It was good, you know working with you."
She was a friendly sort, that one. It wasn't so much that she was a hugger as she was just really happy right now. She giggled at his play on words. "No, that kind of defeats the purpose of working, wouldn't it?" Grinning that Joker-like smile, since she wasn't hugging him anymore, she'd gone back to hugging the card to her chest. She noted the way he stepped closer to the door, about to say goodbye to him until he laid that sentiment on her. Her eyes closed warmly as she nodded. "It was good working with you too, Lyall. I hope we cross paths again," she admitted, untangling her lashes as she opened her eyes. As if putting the worry she was going to attack him with affection at bay, she returned to her stool and folded herself onto it. Pursing her lips, she might be thinking about keeping a Hero Badge on her now just in case she did run across him again. It would probably be lame and made out of construction paper and pencils but.. it was still a badge, dammit.
Lyall smiled like he wasn't sure that they ever would cross paths again, but he said, gently, "That'd be nice." He said it like he was saying goodbye, not like he was earnestly believing they would cross paths again. Before he got too hesitant or weird or too Lyall on her, he smiled sheepishly and continued to back off until he backed out of the front door and hurried, as he was always hurrying, to the next point in time. Sometime there was time, but it wasn't one of those days. Would Chloe the Cardlover show back up again? He hoped she did.
She caught the way he smiled, she wasn't a ditz. Her own smile reflected it, but there might've been a little more of a glimmer of hope in it than his. "Yeah, it would be," she muttered softly. She waved with her card hand and watched him hurry off, giggling under her breath as she eyed that Mew card. "Whatcha gonna do now, suckah?" She mumbled to an enemy that wasn't even in the room. Only to glance at the clock and those eyes went wide. "Crap!" She yelped, scrambling to her feet, downing her tea with a soft whine how it was a little too hot and was booking it out of the tavern as fast as she'd entered. ... Though, with much less face-planting.
2.12.17 - Red Dragon Inn
(From Live play with Lyall British. Heavily edited for flow.)
Mostly Lyall always seems like he's missed a really inconvenient dentist appointment. Not that he wanted to be where he was but that if the timing was off it would be even more painful to rectify it. The brim of his hat was concentrated on his brow, his hands shuffling floppy and too-bent-and-beat-up papers in hand. He walked in the inn with the same air of most of the locals. Like he knew the place but still, his gaze jumped up and around as if he wasn't entirely sure what to expect.
The best place to be was at a bar. If you stood in the middle of a room people might start thinking that you intended to sell bibles. Okay. It's almost ten thirty. That time sounded familiar. Ten thirty. Who was his ten thirty? He turned the page over in his hand and then looked up, inching his glasses back up his nose as he looked for a bartender.
There's a whole performance there to derail his thoughts. Not that it took much, but still. He was getting there. Derailed, that is. Not there.
Chloe's shift at the Diner had finished about twenty minutes ago. She'd whipped off her skates and apron in record time, only to break into a full sprint toward the Red Dragon where she agreed to meet some funny fellow. God, she hoped he could dish out the painnn. She had some vengeance to dish out. After huffing and puffing in a full on run, she bounded up those porch steps and flung her small body through the front door. Too loud. Too fast. She let out a yelp as her balance teetered and down she went to the floor. "Sonofabitch!"
"Last call for service before I leave!" Reiko Souma then announced.
She did hear the last call being called by some woman and her head popped up, her chin a bit red from smacking it on the floor. Raising her hand from where she'd belly flopped, she called out to Reiko. "Tea! Honey tea! I'll take tea please!"
He was checking the door over his shoulder, anyway. If there had been a barkeep he would have ordered something appropriate. Something like a Pimm's Cup. There wasn't time to order, though, before there was a very ominous sound at the door. He cringed before he looked and then looked at the woman (Reiko) when she made a last call, "I'll have a vodka with lemonade, if you don't mind."
It was a little more stout than a Pimm's Cup to say the least. No, she wasn't the ten thirty and if he ignored her long enough, that was bound to be true. Focus on the barkeep.
"One honey tea and one vodka with lemonade, coming right up~!" Announced Reiko. There was still hot water in the kettle, so that was used for the tea, which had some honey added with it as requested. Then the vodka with lemonade was made and mixed. Both drinks were placed in front of those who had asked for them, respectively. "Your honey tea," setting the cup in front of Chloe, "and your vodka with lemonade." Which was set in front of Lyall. "Enjoy!" She started to do a quick wipedown of the bar with a towel.
Puffing out her cheeks, she planted her palms to the floor and grunted, wiggled and squirmed her way to her feet. She seemed absolutely fine. Perhaps because that had been the third time today she'd busted her ass. Sniffling once, she lifted that chin that would surely bruise later with pride. Brushing off the front of her sweater and jeans, she made her way toward the bar. "Thank you," she called to Reiko, making her way to the bar and heaved herself onto a stool just as Rei put down her tea. "Mhn, tea." Digging into her pocket, she pulled out a few crumpled bills and some loose change in the ball of her fist before pushing them to the tender. "Keep it,? she abruptly scanned the room with narrowed eyes. Where's the Funny Man? Code name. Definitely.
"Many thanks," Lyall scrambled for some change. Not this pocket. That pocket. Nooo... the other pocket. Right. There it is. And with that he was able to lay down the right coinage for his purchase. He sat in one of the barstools as if that might keep the universe from doing something terrible. He was pretty sure it was already doing something terrible. If he focused on his drink it would be okay. With low and dread filled tones Lyall's voice met her gaze. She had a code name, too, "Ten thirty?"
Leveling her gaze on Lyall with her best serious expression, she squared her shoulders and stared at him with those uncanny bright blues. Leaning a bit, she whispered, "...Are you the Funny Man?" Lifting her brows as she tipped that red chin.
"The Piano Man?" He said, having misheard her and somehow, partly, knowing it. His verbage corrected and his shoulders sank a little. Why couldn't he just be the handsome man? The mysterious yet still alluring man? "Yes, I'm..." there was a swallow without his drink, then a swallow with before he replied, "I'm the funny man. You came with what we agreed?"
"...I don't know, can you play piano?" She blinked at him, questioning his rebuttal name until she shook her head. If that's what he wanted to be called, Chloe may not be the best. She wasn't good at flirting. Nodding when he said he was the funny man, those bright blues widened hopefully until he asked if she had what they agreed. Straightening her back, she hugged her midsection as if hiding something. ... She wasn't good at this thing. "I might.. did you get the job done?" She squinted at him, trying so very hard to be serious. And.. she might've just looked like she was going to sneeze.
It was fairly important not to flirt with him, lest he get flustered. Women didn't flirt with him, not on purpose, anyway. Sometimes there was some accidental flirting that happened, like when a woman was flirting with the guy next to him. Or because they thought he was someone else. She asked if he got the job done and he was beginning to wonder if the metaphors were starting to wiggle out from their grasp, "I mean, I always come with the goods delivered." Before he dug the hole deeper, he reached inside his double breasted coat pocket to withdraw a fat envelope and slide it to her. There was money or a dead mouse, or anything money/mouselike inside it.
Seeing that flat envelope being slid to her, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and grinned. Nodding, she lifted the front of her sweater -there was a shirt beneath, calm down Lyall! Don't fall off your stool- and tucked between was her own flat envelope, folded to she could tuck it into the waistband of her jeans. Giving a shifty glance around like they were committing a crime, she tugged out the folder and practically flung it into his lap. "Good, good. I got the stuff." Nodding, ticking her brows like it was the good stuff. Only for the excitement to get the best of her and she slapped her hand on the envelope he'd passed and slid her hand between the flaps. "Come on babyyyyy, come to mama~" She sang, only to pluck out... a single card. A very rare, Mew Pokemon card. Giggling like a maniac, her wide mouth curled like the damned Joker's smile. "My elementary school enemy is TOAST. That cheating son of a bitch."
Oh no. He had zero hope for that. It would have only been with something like accidental nipple that he would have collapsed from his barstool. So his gaze wasn't averted. He stared like he was looking at her shoe. Okay, he stared like he was looking at her shoe while not being someone with a foot fetish. He definitely wasn't one of those. Not that he didn't like feet they just weren't erotic. Well, they could be cute in one of other shoes with the heels and the straps. But he didn't think about feet like that. Or not think about them like that. They were feet and. Well. He had no idea what it was he had given her, but that was the way things went with him more often than not. Acquiring, giving and rerouting things of "value" that he couldn't entirely comprehend. He opened the envelope she gave him skeptically, drawing out from it what it appeared to be a hand written recipe for... well, the exact and correct way (no arguments allowed) to make chocolate chip thunderstorm cookies. The truth was that everyone had their price, even if it wasn't money. Despite everything, though, he had to crack a small smile for her and the collectible she'd won. She looked so happy. He kinda wondered what that was like, to get something that gave you such joy, "Good luck to your and your victory."
Chloe's ancient (not literally) grandmother knew the true recipe. It would seem easy to obtain, but Gramma Dunn was VERY protective of that recipe. The girl had to Indiana Jones that ****. But it was truly worth it. Clutching that single Pokemon card to her chest, she giggled like a madwoman and... just ignore the twitch to her right eye.. "Hehehehe thank you. Enjoy the... stuff." Shifting eyes. No one was to know about those cookies. Looking to the card, she started petting it like that weird creature from the Lord of the Rings. My precioussss~
He's the messenger. Don't shoot the messenger. He tucked the recipe into the envelope and then inside his jacket pocket. His right hand jumped forward to tug his sleeve back so he could check the time on his watch. Never enough time, was there? His drink tipped back and then he looked at her, "When is the duel of... cards?" He didn't understand the game, not really, but card games weren't an altogether new concept to him. It was a card for a game. At the bare bones of it, he got that she had acquired some sort of trump. For some sort of school that was in the middle of something she had to work on.
She blinked, seeming to snap out of her mini-mania moment as she cleared her throat and reached for her honey tea. "What? Oh. Um... it was... a long time ago." She admitted. She wasn't in elementary school, anymore. It was a decade and some change grudge the spaz never quite got over. "I'm... probably going to frame this." Giggling with that twitch again and she hugged the card to her chest and sipped some of that soothing tea. "He will never win another tournament again without his lucky card."
"So it was a long time ago but he's presently not going to win?" It wasn't all that confusing for someone like him. The importance of events and when they all happened tended to be, more or less, a jumble that he didn't entirely discern. He pushed up the brim of his hair, his brassy curls of hair a bit more apparent when he did so, "Did you know that card games came from China? Then to Persia. At least on Earth. Oh!" He planted one hand on the bartop, "I once was in a city that took playing cards so seriously that there were family feuds, generations deep, about it. Who had cheated, what had been forged. They played cards instead of did battle which meant that the cards came to represent money and land, homes and lives... I guess the same way that money does?" He shrugged a little in an earnest show of not being too certain.
Her wide eyes were on Lyall as he talked, holding that card to her chest and clutching that hot cup of tea. She might've abused her bottom lip a bit, only to wince when it tugged her scraped chin. "Ow, oh. Oh! That's... wow. So much importance over cards?" She blinked, glancing down to the card in her hand. "Well, I think this card is like... worth a few grand or more on Ebay these days.." Only to squint. "I understand the feuding though..." Puffing out her cheeks as she seemed to loathe that childhood mortal enemy of hers. Eyeing him for a moment, she tilted her head. "So, Funny Hero Man. What's your actual name so I don't just call you Funny Hero Man?"
"Oh yeah, Ebay... that's a serious information tide." He was only half certain that what he said even made sense, but even more certain that she wouldn't correct him. She understood feuding. Didn't everyone. Funny HERO man. That was an upgrade. No one ever said hero as an adjective for him. It was enough that he might have had a moment of confidence, the sort that made him push his shoulders back and momentarily, in the worst way possible, feel that he had the ghost-of-attractiveness about him. She was eying him. Wait. It wasn't that sort of eying. Just deflate slowly so she doesn't notice. "Lyall." The watch on his wrist beeped, as if on a timer. Once, someone said he was like the White Rabbit. He didn't understand that, even if it was painfully true. He twisted his wrist back to his eyes and then stood up, "So much more work to do, you know?" He laughed, nervously, and added, "You know how it is. Some live to work or you work to live." It sounded like really awkward conversation filler he'd overheard.
"Information tide.." She squinted. She understood Ebay to just be something to sell unwanted items on. That was about it. And buy cheap things that would probably break from. She was certainly eyeing him, but like he was suddenly some shiny White Knight. He helped her dish out her vengeance, okay? "Lyall," she sighed, nodding as if committing it to memory. "I'm Chloe." Better than Ten Thirty. Maybe. Probably not. Snickering when he told her about work, "I work to live." And almost die every day on those roller skates she lied about knowing how to use correctly on her application. Oh well. She'd learn eventually! Hopefully... But when he rose, she set aside her tea and stood to her feet. "Ngh! Before you go!" She squeaked, scrambling over to him and clutching that card for dear sweet life. If he didn't stop her, she'd be flinging her arms around him to hug him. "You are THE BEST. Ever." Squeeeeeze.
Wellll I mean he didn't always he just... he did a lot of jobs and met a lot of people and sometimes the "road" was a weird and lonely but also strangely intimate space. The hug, in short, was delicately appreciated. She might have even known by the way he exhaled as he arms fell around him that it had been a long time, a very long time, since anyone had been that grateful to *him.* He didn't need to get laid or be a sex god, he didn't have to be a Romeo with a chiseled jaw. It was all rather satisfying in a way only a fellow traveler could have understood. He'd done something, his job, and she had thrown her arms around his neck. That meant he smiled, despite himself and patted her awkwardly on the outside of the arm, "Yes... yes... Did you know that smiling is something incredibly aggressive to primates? I mean we think it's friendly but they sort of do it as a growl."
He'd made her life with this deal. It was worth Indiana Jones-ing it through her Gramma's house and risking an ass whoopin'. She didn't seem to really notice his awkwardness, being too consumed with trying to hug the life out of him until he mentioned that strange and interesting fact about primates. Her eyes that had been squeezed shut during the hug snapped open as she slowly released him. Eyes wide, she settled down on the heels of her feet from where she'd been on her tip-toes. "So that's why that monkey at the zoo tried to maul me through the bars that day. I totally thought he just hated me." Her bottom lip poked out a little bit as she blinked up at him. "...I need to apologize to him for showing aggression when I go to the zoo again.." Shaking her head, she gave that smile that always seemed too wide but really, the girl just had a big mouth. "Thank you, Lyall. Seriously. You deserve a Hero badge or something. I won't make you late for work though.." Glancing to his watch, he seemed very concerned with that watch before she attacked him with affection.
She was sort of lingering there for a long minute, wasn't she? Half in one arm, still partly wrapped up in him with her enthusiasm. She must have been one of those people that hugged a lot and didn't think anything of it, not really paying attention to the fact that she was smashed up against him. He cleared his throat, this time patting her lower back, "Yeah I mean, being late for work wouldn't work for you." That was a play on words he didn't intend and he smiled, awkwardly, knowing he had worded his intention in about the worst way possible. Less than an hour. That was the warning. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the worst thing ever to have a woman desperately hug him. Not to be creepy or anything, it was just nice. Female hugs, even if they lingered a tad longer that totally appropriate, were nice. They were! He did one backward step, navigating around hs barstool and eventually putting that foot of space between them and one less towards the door, "It was good, you know working with you."
She was a friendly sort, that one. It wasn't so much that she was a hugger as she was just really happy right now. She giggled at his play on words. "No, that kind of defeats the purpose of working, wouldn't it?" Grinning that Joker-like smile, since she wasn't hugging him anymore, she'd gone back to hugging the card to her chest. She noted the way he stepped closer to the door, about to say goodbye to him until he laid that sentiment on her. Her eyes closed warmly as she nodded. "It was good working with you too, Lyall. I hope we cross paths again," she admitted, untangling her lashes as she opened her eyes. As if putting the worry she was going to attack him with affection at bay, she returned to her stool and folded herself onto it. Pursing her lips, she might be thinking about keeping a Hero Badge on her now just in case she did run across him again. It would probably be lame and made out of construction paper and pencils but.. it was still a badge, dammit.
Lyall smiled like he wasn't sure that they ever would cross paths again, but he said, gently, "That'd be nice." He said it like he was saying goodbye, not like he was earnestly believing they would cross paths again. Before he got too hesitant or weird or too Lyall on her, he smiled sheepishly and continued to back off until he backed out of the front door and hurried, as he was always hurrying, to the next point in time. Sometime there was time, but it wasn't one of those days. Would Chloe the Cardlover show back up again? He hoped she did.
She caught the way he smiled, she wasn't a ditz. Her own smile reflected it, but there might've been a little more of a glimmer of hope in it than his. "Yeah, it would be," she muttered softly. She waved with her card hand and watched him hurry off, giggling under her breath as she eyed that Mew card. "Whatcha gonna do now, suckah?" She mumbled to an enemy that wasn't even in the room. Only to glance at the clock and those eyes went wide. "Crap!" She yelped, scrambling to her feet, downing her tea with a soft whine how it was a little too hot and was booking it out of the tavern as fast as she'd entered. ... Though, with much less face-planting.