[Jim Franklin] *It's a nice enough night, and he looks somewhat perky. He's examining a bunch of chard, with a great deal of joy. It looks somewhat refreshing. It's clear, his basket for the market is full of vegetables, and it's fairly inexpensive here. Really, quite nice. So many deals at the end of the day, and so much negotiation! He looks rather cheerful. And even better, there are so few people here at the end of the day, on a week-day. So many have already gone home, giving him free access to all the fruits and vegetables he could fill up on. Free samples. Food he liked, and could actually EAT.*
*He points to a bunch of carrots, and he wrinkles his nose at the price, and a small sigh, as he has to refuse that. But the rest should make a nice stir fry.*
[Jarod Nightingale] [I suppose I should do one of these, shouldn't I? Awareness!]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)
[Jim Franklin] ((Blarg, right!))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
[Jarod Nightingale] Nice though Madison could be this time of year, Jarod's life would always be tied to the city. This would remain a point of contention with many other members of his Tradition, but that was nothing new. Work was here. His condo was here. Much of his life... was here. One could only get away from that for so long. (One could only want to get away from that for so long.)
It was a Tuesday, and his daughter was spending the night with her friend Logan in Lincoln Park. He'd brought her along with him this time. (She had a life here too.) Now the Verbena Disciple was walking through the market in Chinatown with a small, nondescript paper bag in his hand as he absently inspected the array of produce that was on display. He didn't actually need any, of course, and this wasn't where he usually did his shopping, but there were some fresh lychee nuts that looked like they might make for a tempting snack before he headed out for the bars. The tallish, almost absurdly attractive man stopped in front of these and picked one of them up, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger.
Then something seemed to distract him, and he glanced over, following the trail of resonance until his dark blue eyes landed on Jim.
It wasn't someone he'd ordinarily take much notice of, but there were all sorts of reasons to find people interesting. This was one of them. Still, he didn't approach the younger man (boy?) or otherwise attempt to gain his attention. Jarod... didn't really need to try to be a focal point. People looked at him anyway, for various reasons. Instead he turned back to what he was doing and began to bag up a handful of the lychees.
[Jim Franklin] *It's almost a chain reaction. As soon as those eyes focus on him, his back stiffens. He looks up, and around, in definite panic mode. He couldn't be more subtle about his worries if he tried. His fingers grip to the basket, white-knuckled, and his other hand shoves into his pocket.*
*He keeps his place, however, but his head jerks back and forth. He looks all the world a nervous rodent. Rabbit or mouse. He digs into the basket of purchased items and grabs at a stalk of parsley. It seems he's trying to go for nonchalant after panic mode kicked in.*
[Jarod Nightingale] In some ways, Jarod seemed to belong here. Well, really only one. Mixed racial heritage aside though, he really didn't look like most of the other people who might have been milling around this part of town. He wasn't a tourist, and he wasn't a neighborhood local (though he spoke the languages and was familiar with the customs.) Judging by the fit and design of his clothes, which tonight consisted of a pair of expensive jeans and a buttoned black silk shirt with short sleeves, the Disciple probably shopped at the kinds of food boutiques that sold $30 bottles of balsamic vinegar and had everything marked with labels like "organic" or "made in France."
Maybe some people recognized him anyway. Sometimes they did. Luckily there didn't seem to be any teenage girls running around the market this evening. He didn't particularly want to be bothered with that.
His gaze seemed to have elicited an extremely nervous response from the young man, and when Jarod glanced over again, the corner of his mouth curled into a subtle smirk of amusement. There was something very cat-like about him. The way he moved, the way he watched things... even the way he smiled. After paying for his food, he ambled over toward Jim with a lazy sort of grace, glancing into his basket as if the contents therein might actually be considered interesting. "Something wrong?" he asked.
[Jim Franklin] *His eyes widen, and he takes a step back.* Uhh... uh, n...no, just... I w...was just... l...looking around. Can n...never be too c...careful, you know? Never know who you might r...run into, and... and... *He shoves his hand into his pocket once more, and then grabs the basket with two hands.*
and... who m...might be just... just out to m...mug you, especially in a sp...sparsely occupied loc...location. *He flinches.* Err. You know. I am ... am just looking out, but the prices on v...vegetables are good. *His voice goes very quiet.* I think, anyway.
[Jarod Nightingale] Jarod listened to all this with an unnervingly watchful kind of stillness (predators did that - they sat very still and very quiet and just stared at you with those intense, piercing eyes as if they could freeze you in place with their stare.) Unlike Jim, he wasn't the sort of person to look around when he was having a conversation. He kept his eyes leveled at Jim's face, watching the way the other man's face shifted with emotion as he spoke. Listening to the tone of his voice. Noting the way he moved and fidgeted.
Then he smirked again. "Do I look like I need to mug you?"
(No. He did not.)
Really, this was almost too easy. He should probably just leave the kid alone and be on his way. But he didn't do that yet. Instead, he kept along at Jim's side, reaching into the bag to pull out one of the lychee nuts. He tossed the other bag into the new one (which was plastic and had handles) and hung it on his arm so that he could use both hands to peel the tiny fruit. Long, agile fingers deftly removed the rough, reddish skin in a few motions. One of his forearms was covered with a large, elegantly swirled tattoo that reached from his elbow to the back of his hand.
"Has it occurred to you that jumping out of your skin isn't really the best way not to draw attention to yourself?"
[Jim Franklin] Ahh? Well... w...well. It's... it's just so h...hard to remain calm, *he says quietly.* It's... it's quiet, though, so ... so you'd not n...notice when someone leapt out at you. Besides, you can dr...dress as nicely as you want. It doesn't mean you aren't out to m...mug me. *He speaks sincerely.* Although I d...don't think you will. *Note... he says 'think' not 'know.' He nervously munched on some parsley.*
You're... not n...new here, are you. I mean... you've... has everyone been here... a long t...time?
[Jarod Nightingale] They were making their way out of the market now. Jarod, who had nowhere in particular to be for the next hour, followed along in whatever direction Jim was moving, as if he meant to walk that way as well. (And perhaps he did - it was just as good a direction as any.) He put the lychee to his lips and took a delicate bite of the pale fruit. Somehow the things he did with his mouth always seemed touched with sensuality. (It was probably his resonance.) The tip of his tongue ran over his lip briefly to catch the juice there. There was a thoughtfulness about his expression.
"I wouldn't know about everyone. I've been around, on and off. You're obviously new though."
He actually smiled then, but somehow it wasn't terribly comforting. Jarod had a beautiful smile, no doubt about that, but there was something a little predatory about it here. His canines were sharper than usual.
[Jim Franklin] Ahh. Just a ... just a little bit. I'm... not g...good. With meeting new people. *He's blushing slightly, now staring down at the floor. It's easier to look down.* I... uhh... I ... don't... mean .... mean to int...intrude, but I ... I am just... making my way. If ... if it's your city, I c...can move.
*Yes, he's responding to Jarod's predatory nature easily. A small silver... well.. thing, is in his pocket. It's hard to tell what. But it is moving slightly, and visible, before he shoves his hand into his pocket. Tsking, as if scolding.*
[Jarod Nightingale] He watched this behavior with aloof interest, as if he found the boy amusing but couldn't really be bothered to expend much energy on it. He did laugh though, lightly, when Jim asked him if this was his city. Jarod considered his response for a moment, more than a little bit tempted to say that it was. Instead he let his eyes drift to the boy's skin - to the blossoming color there on his cheeks. That seemed to hold his attention for a moment, and he took another bite of the lychee.
"You aren't intruding. Nobody owns this city." His eyes trailed down to the flash of metal in Jim's pocket and he tilted his head slightly, as if curious, but he didn't ask about it. "What's your name?"
[Jim Franklin] *He looks down, and then back up. He breathes deeply.* Ahh. J...jim. My name's Jim. What's... ahh. What's yours? *He shoves his hand into his pocket again, only this time, a small metal creature climbs onto his wrist, and wraps its tail around as well. He sighs faintly, almost irritatedly.*
[Jarod Nightingale] "Jarod," he said. Jim had only offered a first name, so he received the same in return. Jarod took a last bite of his lychee, peeling the sweet flesh off of the pit inside. This last bit he tossed into the bag to be thrown away later, then sucked on the edge of his thumb to get any last trace of residue off of his skin.
And then... that thing. Metal, but alive. (No, not alive. Animated.) Jarod stared at it with measured interest before glancing around to make sure that no one was watching them. Out on the sidewalk, it was warm and humid and basked in an artificial yellow glow from the street-lights and surrounding buildings. No one appeared to be within eye-line.
"You should keep that thing hidden when you're out," he offered, but it wasn't accusatory in any way. Merely a suggestion. The boy was obviously worried about attracting attention. And this... definitely attracted attention.
After a pause, he asked, "Are you an Etherite, then?"
[Jim Franklin] *Clearly, he's no ninja, or sneak, or any sort of thing, although he might fancy himself James Bond were the situation to arise, and he were wearing a nice suit. But frankly, what man wouldn't? He winces.* It's... part of an ex...experiment. I'm bringing Genesis out into the open, to see how he res...responds to the outside w...world. It's... dark outs...outside right now, so he's not too visible.
*He swallows faintly.* Y...yes. I... uhh. I... that is. I ... haven't c...come in contact with any of my... group. S...since I've been here. Somehow... I d...don't think you're p...part of us.
[Jarod Nightingale] Genesis. The mechanical thing had a name. (Yes, they were definitely from two vastly different worlds, these two.)
"Never know," he responded with droll amusement. "I could be. It's about as likely as my being a mugger." Which was essentially his way of saying: no. Not likely. Not a chance. Not in a million years. But whatever Jarod's Tradition actually was... he didn't offer it. Jim hadn't asked this explicitly. Even if he did, it was debatable as to whether he'd get a proper response.
"You should keep an eye out for a man that talks like a computer. Atlas, I think his name is. He's the only other Etherite I know of here."
(See? He could be helpful. On occasion.)
[Jim Franklin] Ahh. Right! He l...lives with.... with M...mad Maudlin. I met her, b...but. Well. I d...don't want to invite mys...myself over to her house. I mean... that... that would be rude, wouldn't it? Especially if they're ... they're living together, and... and... involved. *He flinches again, trying to shove Genesis back into his pocket.*
[Jarod Nightingale] "Atlas and Molly are living together? I suppose that doesn't surprise me." Though whether or not the two of them were actually involved, as Jim seemed to believe... was anyone's guess. From what Jarod knew of the two of them, it seemed a touch unlikely, mostly because he had a hard time imagining Atlas being capable of romance, and Molly seemed like a romantic girl (underneath all the geek-chic hacker armor.)
For a moment there, he pictured Atlas describing the scientific, chemical properties of the human love response and almost laughed.
"Did she give you her number? Just call and invite one or both of them out to lunch or something." Of course, this sort of thing seemed like a non-issue to Jarod, who'd never had any trouble navigating social situations whatsoever. "Or you can always go hang out at the chantry until one of them shows up." Another pause, and a wry smile. "Or you could just hang around with us non-technical types and let us seduce you into our wicked, primal ways."
[Jim Franklin] She... well. *He winces.* If my development of the psycho-phone had worked. I wouldn't worry about calling at an inappropriate time. I just... don't want to intrude is all, *he murmurs, quietly.* And ... well. *He pauses.* We're a little b...bit ... well. We argue. About our sciences. I'm... not sure it would be good for me to meet another Etherite. I... l... like to believe I'm the best in my class.
Well, *he starts, and he looks up, a bit sheepishly. And he IS still flushed, slightly.* So will Atlas, likely.
[Jarod Nightingale] Contrary to expectation, Jarod didn't have anything against science or technology. It might seem counter-intuitive to anyone who knew his Tradition, but certain kinds of progress were a good thing. Progress decreased dependence upon natural resources. Progress helped to clean the air, and the water, and saved endangered species. Life was a circular thing. Moving forward might, given enough time, take humanity back to its natural place in the world.
Assuming the world lasted that long, at the rate it was presently being destroyed. This was also progress. It was a two-sided coin, that. All depended upon who was pulling the strings.
But of course.... things like animated mechanical mice were hardly Jarod's area of expertise. So he simply watched, the way that a person might watch a tiger when they went to a zoo. This was a strange and curious thing. Perhaps a waste of energy, from his perspective, but it didn't appear to be overtly harmful.
He seemed amused by Jim's observation that scientists liked to argue. "Sleepers do that too. I share a business with a chemist and an electrical engineer. Not that I have anything to do with that. They just use me for my money. And because I look better in interviews."
After a pause, he asked, "are you out here all by yourself then?"
[Jim Franklin] *He pauses, and he pales slightly at that.* Ahh. That is to say, I am sure it is perfectly... *He sighs, and he lowers his head.* Yes. I ... I w...wasn't thinking for a b...bit. I was hungry. I... uhh... forgot to eat today, and g...got a bit carried away. And there aren't any good vegan restaurants around here, nor do they sell soy dream at the corner market from my house. And the vegetables there are all w...worn down, except for the spinach. The spinach is lovely, but one cannot live on spinach and fried tofu salads alone.
[Jarod Nightingale] "Are you being hunted or something? Should I be concerned?"
He didn't sound concerned, though Jarod could be very good at sounding pleasant and nonchalant regardless of how he was actually feeling. Still, the Disciple had some fairly earned confidence in his ability to look after himself. There were many dangerous things lurking out there in the night. Given the right motivating factors, he could be one of them.
(Perhaps Jim had been right to be suspicious of him. [Or maybe he just liked for people to think that he was a bit dark and mysterious.])
"A vegan scientist with a pet mechanical rodent. How... cute." From the tone of his voice, cute might have been interpreted any number of ways. "Listen, Jim... you can't just go around jumping at shadows and hiding away from the world. That's just giving them what they want. There's a whole fucking city out here that you're ignoring. You can get any food you want."
[Jim Franklin] *He shakes his head.* Oh no. I m...mean, I left a city that h...had too many suits, but I left WAY under the r...radar. Genesis is not my p...pet, he's part of a grander experiment studying the insertion of basic A.I. into mechanical rodents and the process of them learning basic treatments and their reaction to one another, thus working their way into society to be recognized by reality. And also, I can't get any f...food I want. I'm lactose intolerant, meat causes my st...stomach to curdle, and ... *He pauses.* Were... you speaking f...figuratively?
[Jarod Nightingale] [Per+Empathy (diff 5 for secondary ability) - Gaydar?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 5, 9 (Success x 3 at target 5)
[Jarod Nightingale] Jarod stopped walking and stared at his decade-younger and noticeably less fashion-savvy companion for a long moment, his expression unreadable. That was always a bit unnerving for some people... when he would just stare at them, silently, without any indication as to what he was thinking.
"Yes, Jim. I was speaking figuratively."
That was probably one of those too-much-information moments, but thankfully Jarod didn't actually say that. Instead, he allowed an amused half-smile to return to his face, then pressed his tongue against the sharp point of one of his teeth before taking a step closer and leaning into the Etherite's personal space. It was hard to ignore the Verbena's resonance, this close. It felt like silk and tasted like lilac wine, with a lingering echo of winter.
"You shouldn't tell strangers that you live alone. Especially not when you blush like that." His voice whispered against the Etherite's ear.
[Jim Franklin] *He stops. He stops so hard, and his blush goes completely over his face. Even his NECK reddens.* Wha'.. uhh... I'm ... I'm just... just nervous.... is... is all. That's all it is. *SURE. That's all it is. He stares at the ground for a bit. The ground is safe! It's secure under his feet, and he could make it more solid with his skills! Of course...*
[Jarod Nightingale] He'd done this sort of thing before. Of course he had. One could only imagine the countless times that Jarod's lips had touched skin burning with flushed capillaries; that he'd rendered bodies frozen in place and taut with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. For him this was probably, well... a Tuesday.
(But even so, it never stopped being enjoyable.)
There was a strong temptation here to open his senses - to feel the boy's heart beating rapidly in his chest and track the quickened blood-flow through his body. But if he did that, he wouldn't want to go. So he contented himself simply with watching the jumping pulse at the hollow of the kid's throat and feel the heat radiating off of him. He felt like imagination made manifest.
And then he closed the tiny gap of distance between them and kissed the skin next to the Etherite's ear, at the hinge of his jaw. Well, it wasn't exactly a kiss. It was more like tasting him. Soft lips touched there, opened, and the tip of a tongue could just barely be felt.
Then... he pulled away. Licked his lips. And smiled. "Goodnight, mouse-boy."
And he turned and walked away.
[Jim Franklin] *His eyes widen, and he looks up. Of course his breathing quickens. And with that, come the short gasps. He fumbles into his pocket, causing his poor mouse to let out a tinny squeak of modified surprise. After something, as he gasps for air.*
*Where is it? Where is... ahh! He pulls out the small inhaler, and he shoves it to his lips, taking a deep breath. Gaining control of his being first. Thank god for chunky laptop bags, at the very least. THAT gets slid around to the front. He scowls at himself.* Stop it, *he mutters, with more than a slight shiver, as he starts to half-walk, half waddle in the direction of home.*
