BACKDATED
Who: Alex Chase (KING SHAHRYAR) and Velvet Lyon (SCHEHERAZADE)
What: A night in.
When: Sometime during the week of Rick's disappearance.
Where: The Pentamerone.
Rating: PG
Alex: What with Eastern adventures with the resident Indiana Jones that caused mayhem, and the possible murder by a Tale, Alex bypassed the Compendium to go straight to the source. It seemed as though the week had been unending; a haze of turbulent unfamiliar emotion and far too many passing strangers in Manhattan had spawned - he was seeing them everyhwere. Getting slashed wasn't, unfortunately, on the agenda. The last little burst of intensive drinking had produced another dire entanglement, and really, he was starting to discover the concept of overkill. No, in fact, the best way to spend the forthcoming evening wasn't alcohol-laden at all, and by seven o'clock, Chase was firmly convinced that his plan was pure genius. The apartment space was clean - a possible miracle - his laundry no longer scattered everywhere, and he had in fact, returned his maternal phone call.
By eight thirty, he was bored to the walls of his skull, and desperately in need of company. There were precisely two ways of gaining company that Alex knew of, and neither, much to his astonishment, seemed particularly inviting, especially as the procurement of such company might involve appearing a very rich flash git - something he was both good at, and enjoyed. No, with the aftermath of this thing called 'family' floating inside his head, he reached for the very figure closest to it, and it was her door he knocked on now. Somewhat ajar, he peered.
"Vel?"
Velvet: It was more out of habit than anything else that Velvet Lyon was in the Arabic Librarian's office, working on an essay for school. She loved her shared apartment with Cygna, but that was more a place for living and sewing and laughing and eating than for schoolwork, and, well, why pass up a perfectly good office space? So, there she was, reading and thinking and making little notes in the margins - the door was ajar because she'd been at this for three hours now, and upon return from her last tea run she decided to leave it so in case someone stopped by to provide her with much-needed distraction. The Compendium was just a bit much at the moment, and while she checked it periodically for news of Rick and Cygna and Riva, she'd much rather distraction in the form of human company. And lo, her wish was granted.
"Yes?" she asked, looking up to see Alex. "Oh! Alex, hi. Come in."
Alex: "You're busy." Rather than coming in, he backed out with all the haste and grace of an elephant suddenly told to reverse. What exactly Velvet did precisely, beyond the Librarian gig - student, yes, but studying what? - was rather beyond him, and he avoided bothering people doing homework, as it was a time he liked most to be left alone himself. A thought struck, and his head appeared once more.
"Unless you're not?"
Velvet: Velvet's face fell as Alex backed out of the room - and he was back fast enough to see the disappointment, and to see it turn into something vaguely akin to delight, but far more muted. "No! I'm just about sick of Robinson Crusoe, to tell you the truth. Why?" she asked, closing the book and setting aside so that he can see very plainly that she is not studying anymore.
Alex: He stood toe-to-toe with the threshold; not in, not out. Couldn't be accused of over-enthusiasm, nor of serious reluctance when there was a clear line drawn. In fact, so in need of not-appearing-desperate (Alex couldn't list the number of female friends he had, much beyond the single digit) he addressed the doorknob rather than her. "Could be offerin' food and watching entertainin' crap on the idiot box?" he offered the handle, scratching the back of his head in studied utter nonchalence. Face changed somewhat, sliding from clear uncaring, to vague uncertainty and then smoothed once again.
"Funny thing, bars," he added in a conversational way, "They're pretty much all alike. Not so fun when you figure that out."
Velvet: Normally, Velvet might be a little flustered at being asked by her former Tale husband to come over for snacks and TV. It's not so much that Velvet is flustered by every boy she encounters privately - she could hold a perfectly civil, blush-free conversation with Phoenix, and she certainly doesn't spend very much time acting shy around Murdock. But encountering Shahryar face-to-face was still a relatively new thing for her, even as long as they'd known each other. And if he'd asked her over flirtatiously, looking her in the eye, she would be blushing, and looking askance and playing with her hair. Instead, he's almost bashful, and it amuses her to end. It's also the only reason she agrees, because if he had looked her in the eye and used all the suave on her? She would be too flustered to accept.
"Oh, really?" she asked, teasingly feigning surprised interest. "Quelle surprise." She smiled, stretched idly in her chair, pushing out and away from the desk that she'd been sitting at all evening. "What sort of food? What sort of entertainment?"
Alex: There was a pointed look right at that idle stretching, the implied 'you've got nothing better to do' going unspoken, but a masterful conveyance. He didn't often speak to Velvet; it too awkward, especially to face someone when you had shared little details with and yet never really known, and there was that new 'platonic female' dynamic that was just beyond different. On the other hand, treating her like he would any other friend - albeit with slightly less conversational focus on booze, birds and sex - meant he didn't have to pretend to accomplishments he'd never learnt.
"Can't cook," he said flatly, "So you've got the choice of New York's finest take-out." A teasing grin flitted across his face. "My movie collection isn't somethin' you'd really be interested in, Vel. Unless you're into 'Naughty girls gone-'"
Velvet: "No! No, that's okay," Velvet interjected hurriedly, that familiar flush rising into her cheeks as Alex reminded her just where his interests usually lay. One hand going to the back of her head, she shrugged. "Take-out sounds all right... and television in your room, I suppose...?" she trailed off as the full terms of his invitation dawned on her. "Is anyone else coming?" It was a very casual question - mere curiosity, and the answer wouldn't make or break her agreement. Indeed, she was even getting up from her chair and shifting papers around, looking for her keys as she said it.
Alex: He made a face that wasn't happy with the idea - indeed, it hadn't even occured to Alex, much beyond 'Velvet is a very shy person' that his suggestion might be interpreted a certain way. Besides, he would have argued, Velvet wasn't a girl, she was Velvet. That very fact made her beyond such innuendo and suggestive talk. And, while he wouldn't share it unless dragged out of him, he'd really appreciate the quiet and gentle company from the person he'd got used to having as a friend.
"Got no one I'd invite to join us, 'nless you're thinking of someone?" he spoke as though it didn't matter, which really - it wouldn't, unless she wanted someone along who'd talk his ear off. Talking, during action sequences of any kind, should be punishable by death.
Velvet: "Not really, no," she admitted, glancing up from the search for her keys to flash a small smile at Alex. Well, at least no one who wouldn't poke and tease her for days about agreeing to take-out and TV with Shaaaahryaaaar. A moment after that admission, she found her keys beneath a sheaf of cloth swatches, and she emerged from the office proper. That was, of course, Alex's cue to back out of the threshold, and she followed, locking the door behind her.
Alex: He did so gracelessly, falling into following as though he did it usually instead of never. Waited, out-ranked. "You got a favorite type of take-out, or will we be playing 'random selection'?" he teased, awaiting her choice. It was a pattern, unrecognisably Alex in the way he and Velvet moved fluidly in a dance of interactions; he asked the questions, she led the way they went. "And you not got one of those girly-girl movies you're gonna try and make any man sit through?"
Velvet: "Random selection sounds all right," Velvet shrugged as they started down the hall. As for the movie, though, she cast Alex a displeased glance. "Really? Do I seem--oh! I forgot my Compendium." They weren't very far from her office, so she just put up one finger - 'one second' - and dashed back into her office, leaving Alex to stand there and repent for his suggestion that she'd ever force anyone to sit through a chick flick. Those sorts of things were for girls' nights only! (And only after sufficient amounts of wheedling from the other parties.)
A moment later, she'd returned, Compendium in hand. "There's just, well, a lot going on I need to be on top of," she explained apologetically once she reached Alex again.
Alex: He nodded agreement; he knew of her roommate and her roommate's 'boyfriend's Tale. "He's not an Arabic," he said with careful deliberation. "Keeping an eye with your Librarian skills?" She had a knack it seemed, for getting people to do as she wished without thinking too hard about their own choices. Very Scheherezade, teasing through the Tales until she had the ones she wanted in her hand. "Not able to take a night off. I know."
It didn't take a long walk; he was down the stairwell and across from her office, and pushed open the door into his own room as soon as inside the shared apartment. Despite being every inch the self-assured, self-involved and chauvinistic male, Alex managed to keep his quarters in surprisingly tidy conditions. 'Course, when you considered it as the place he brought back girls, it made sense.
Velvet: "She's my friend, Alex," Velvet admonished gently, looking slightly put out by the suggestion that she shouldn't be involved in Rick's disappearance. "Besides, Professor Anser gave up his right to care about this situation when he hung up on me in the middle of the night." Yes, she's still just a little sore about that. Think of the trauma they could've been spared! Blood spatters on pages, honestly. She thought Cygna was going to go into a catatonic state, with nothing left to clean. Nevertheless, she didn't sulk over the matter too terribly much.
As they stepped into Alex's room, she looked it over appraisingly. "It's been ages since I've been in one of these rooms," she mused, the familiar turn-of-the-century architecture mixed with recent renovations tickling at her memory.
Alex: He raised his eyebrows, all over-familiar adult male role-model figure in a matter of seconds, as he leant against the mantlepiece. "Should hope so," he said, folding arms against his chest. "Unless Varletti's managed something I didn't think he'd edge near in a month of Sundays." He wasn't there to see an answer written across Velvet's face, but pawed through a box of take-out flyers, seemingly carefully preserved rather than thrown out from the litter of advertising that hit the New York streets. Of course, some had valuable phone numbers written on them.
He fanned them out, waving them gently and sending a waft of air towards her. "What's your poison, princess? Chinese, Indian, Thai, or American? Regular plethora of choice here at Casa Alex."
Velvet: The answer Alex would have seen was mixed - eyes rolling with exasperated amusement, nose crinkling with distaste for the idea of being in Murdock's room alone with him, lips pursing with disapproval for the enmity between the two men. As Alex rifled through the menus, Vel stood - not without a small degree of awkwardness - waiting for direction to sit here or there. "Oh... Thai is good." A pause, and more helpfully she added, "I like Pad Thai, with chicken. But I'll eat whatever you want to get?"
Alex: It wasn't something you could do with a grand gesture, but Alex had what he had to work with. "One Thai feast coming up," he proclaimed, hitting a button on his cell with an alacrity that suggested perhaps a little over-familiarity with the take-out restaurant. Suitably 'Asian-ethnic' music played tinnily in his ear, and he pulled a face at Velvet, all screwed up eyes and tongue stuck out. Childish, but a different sort of childish than 'bratty'.
"You can sit, you know," he said mildly, indicating with a vast sweep of his arm to the veritable smorgasbord of choice in his apartment; Alex's bed, neatly made up or, a futon folded into a fat sausage of a couch-substitute, with boxes to stand in for tables. "Promise not to ravish you." She would've seen the brief flash of teeth in a grin a little too mocking for something that was more than likely with any other girl standing there.
Velvet: Velvet wasn't expecting Alex to pull such a childish face, and it prompted a peal of unexpected laughter. It was covered up quickly with a sheepish little shrug - right, of course she could sit - and the slightest flush rising into her cheeks (he was teasing, of course, but, well...). Once seated, she busied herself with flipping through the pages of her Compendium, making sure there were no new developments, no snarky comments by Anser she should reply to. A terrible conversationalist even at the best of times, she rationalized this less-than-social activity by reasoning Alex was busy with ordering food.
Alex: Alex raised his eyebrows a fraction, watching his non-date for the evening happily immerse herself in a social connection device; in other words, communicating with anyone but him. Thank God for an overabundant sense of self-confidence, he thought, as his lips twitched into a self-deprecatory smile. That, and not wanting Velvet in bed, as he'd apparently have lost her already. Before he could think of something to say, perhaps to drag her attention away from the clearly more interesting Compendium, the phone was answered by a young person who had a thick incomprehensible accent, and found his own drawl as unintelligible.
After fifteen minutes of explaining, complete with useless hand gestures to accompany the explanation, Alex snapped the cell phone shut, and threw it in the direction of the bed with a speed that implied a touch of frustration, then dropped into the seat besides Velvet. While he was never one for respecting serious 'personal space' issues, he was both tired, and not in the least observant of body-language when it didn't serve a particular purpose, and was thus an untidy mass of limbs and sprawled legs that took up far too much space for anyone not willing to be seriously 'friendly'.
"Fifteen minutes. If she's delivering it here, that is. Could be a little while, had some trouble with the number 'three'." He gave her an irreverent grin.
Velvet: The Librarian looked up, startled, when Alex threw the phone down and sprawled beside her. "Oh... that's annoying, when they don't quite understand. I hope our orders aren't messed up," she said, quite blandly, even as she closed the Compendium while pulling her own limbs closer to her body. It wasn't so much that she wanted to eliminate all possibility of touching Alex (though it'd be a perceptive person indeed to know that), but rather an unconscious reply to his sprawl - he's all over, she's contained; he's a suave asshole, and she's a shy storyteller.
Nodding toward the television, she gave Alex a small, shy, quirky little smirk. "So, food's taken care of. What's up for entertainment?"
Alex: He waved a lazy hand in an airy sort of movement. "I'm not able to command the air-waves. Ladies' choice, darlin. Whatever you can find." The remote landed in her lap gently, plucked from the box beside him and swooping in a low arch from box-to-hand-to-Velvet's-knees. Apparent unconcern at the choice of entertainment. So long as it's not alone.
Velvet: Velvet started when the remote was tossed into her lap - she was never an athletic girl, and projectiles flying at her tended to make her nervous. She recovered admirably, however, and managed to turn on the television without any mishap. Clearly couch surfing was not something beyond her grasp. Flipping through the channels - commercials, commercials, more commercials - waiting for something to come up. Suddenly across the screen flashed a city scape, overgrown and crumbling. She stopped. The emblem in the corner indicated this was the history channel. The narrator intoned a future without humans, and what would become of the planet.
"I saw a book about that..." she said, quietly, watching the screen with intent interest. "And there was an article... oh, I forget where, someone at school showed me. A timeline for how long it'd take for New York to succumb to the forces of nature if humans suddenly disappeared."
Alex: He stared at her blankly, gauging the intent look and the television screen itself - but he'd agreed to this, and settled back against the wall with a vague noise of disapproval. Just proved his point; Velvet wasn't a girl-girl at all. "Humans are nature," he pointed out in a conversational argumentative tone; as if he were disagreeing just to disagree.
Velvet: Vel looked over at Alex, mildly surprised by his tone and disapproval. "Well, what we do is hardly natural! You don't see," she gestured to the television with the remote, "Birds and elephants and monkeys building urban concrete jungles, generating electricity to run cities..." she trailed off, distracted again by the narration of the hypothetical future, which soon ended with a note to stay tuned to find out how ecosystems would drastically change the landscape. A commercial for another History Channel - Countdown to Armageddon - started, and Velvet made a face, and leaned over to hand the remote to Alex. "Kind of macabre."
Alex: He made a face in return. "Kinda incredibly serious, sugar. 'Sides, who knows, without the humans around to shake stuff up, the birds and elephants and monkeys might." His smile was pure mischief. "You want to watch it, darlin, I gave you control," he waved away the remote as if fearing it biting him. "Doom'n gloom for us tonight, then!"
Velvet: Withdrawing her offer of the remote, the expression on Velvet's face turned amused, and whimsical, as she imagined a world without humans, but with birds and elephants and monkeys actually constructing skyscrapers in construction hats, going to work in business suits. Scenes from a children's book danced in her head - luckily, she rarely used the internet for anything but school, so that realm was closed off to her imagination. "They're much more suited for it, aren't they? Elephants, and monkeys. Even birds, I suppose -- don't quite need spectacular feats of engineering, do they? Cygna and I saw part of a show on elephants. Their trunks are really quite amazing." Suddenly self-conscious of how boring she must seem, prattling on about elephant construction, she fell silent, her attention returning to the television, commercial for cleaning product with a cheerful jingle playing.
Alex: He grinned at her exuberance; not so much making fun as amused by it, childish but animated and interested. Girls he knew were either bored or buffeted by life; no longer willing or able to reach for imaginative heights like elephants using their trunks to build stuff. "I'd like a trunk," he said aloud, thoughtfully. "Make a ton of money just for havin' one, and it'd make polo a hell of a lot easier." He drummed his fingers against the side of the seat, thinking about it. "Be useful. You think I'd look as pretty with a trunk, babes?"
Velvet: "Prettier," Velvet replied blithely, shifting where she sat so her back was slightly straighter. She's teasing him as much as she's (obtusely, granted) expressing her displeasure over being called 'babes'. The commercial switched again, to a movie preview - commercial breaks were endless, weren't they? - and she added, with a sideways glance at Alex and just a hint of smile on the corners of her lips, "You'd also be more useful. I'm sure there are ways to accrue profits for the Atheneum via a sideshow freak."
Alex: "You'd put me up on show?" Alex sounded affronted and outraged but his grin was broad, and he could not manage to compose himself to solemnity. "That's not nice at all, Vel. Putting the Atheneum ahead of friendship like that. What about our lasting, story-bond?" In response, perhaps, to her straightening herself and sitting all tidy-like, he slumped back down, folding his arms tight across his chest; the picture of a perfect sulk.
Velvet: "It'd be compensation," Velvet explained, though her gaze suggested she was intent upon the television, "For the brawls and jail and bail. Of course, it'd get a bit circular. Get in a fight, get put in the freak show, drink to forget the humiliation, get in a fight..." Again, she looked over at Alex, appraising his trunk-less visage. "Much better that you don't have a trunk, I suppose."
The show came on again, and her attention turned back to the screen. Life after mankind seemed like it would be poignantly bleak and beautiful at the same time - though she really didn't care for the narration and dull explanations. It'd be nicer if there were only pictures - thankfully, that's what the mute button is for. Pointing the remote at the monitor again, Velvet turned the sound off. The remote was set aside, and she leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin in hands, watching the silent unfolding of a post-apocalyptic planet.
Alex: It had to be said he didn't watch that much tv with the sound off. The whole point of the television was that it blared sound; meaningless or not, he didn't care - he'd listen to endless commercials if necessary. Sound meant the room was loud and filled and there was no white space for thoughts to seep through. But Velvet had charge, and she seemed intent, curled in on the predicted vision as though it were something beautiful as it unfurled, rather than a torturous look at a life that probably wouldn't ever happen.
He sat back, allowing the quiet to bleed into his conscious and watched Velvet watching the screen. Arms folded. Head rested back against the wall. Watching still, but allowing himself to think, too.
What: A night in.
When: Sometime during the week of Rick's disappearance.
Where: The Pentamerone.
Rating: PG
Alex: What with Eastern adventures with the resident Indiana Jones that caused mayhem, and the possible murder by a Tale, Alex bypassed the Compendium to go straight to the source. It seemed as though the week had been unending; a haze of turbulent unfamiliar emotion and far too many passing strangers in Manhattan had spawned - he was seeing them everyhwere. Getting slashed wasn't, unfortunately, on the agenda. The last little burst of intensive drinking had produced another dire entanglement, and really, he was starting to discover the concept of overkill. No, in fact, the best way to spend the forthcoming evening wasn't alcohol-laden at all, and by seven o'clock, Chase was firmly convinced that his plan was pure genius. The apartment space was clean - a possible miracle - his laundry no longer scattered everywhere, and he had in fact, returned his maternal phone call.
By eight thirty, he was bored to the walls of his skull, and desperately in need of company. There were precisely two ways of gaining company that Alex knew of, and neither, much to his astonishment, seemed particularly inviting, especially as the procurement of such company might involve appearing a very rich flash git - something he was both good at, and enjoyed. No, with the aftermath of this thing called 'family' floating inside his head, he reached for the very figure closest to it, and it was her door he knocked on now. Somewhat ajar, he peered.
"Vel?"
Velvet: It was more out of habit than anything else that Velvet Lyon was in the Arabic Librarian's office, working on an essay for school. She loved her shared apartment with Cygna, but that was more a place for living and sewing and laughing and eating than for schoolwork, and, well, why pass up a perfectly good office space? So, there she was, reading and thinking and making little notes in the margins - the door was ajar because she'd been at this for three hours now, and upon return from her last tea run she decided to leave it so in case someone stopped by to provide her with much-needed distraction. The Compendium was just a bit much at the moment, and while she checked it periodically for news of Rick and Cygna and Riva, she'd much rather distraction in the form of human company. And lo, her wish was granted.
"Yes?" she asked, looking up to see Alex. "Oh! Alex, hi. Come in."
Alex: "You're busy." Rather than coming in, he backed out with all the haste and grace of an elephant suddenly told to reverse. What exactly Velvet did precisely, beyond the Librarian gig - student, yes, but studying what? - was rather beyond him, and he avoided bothering people doing homework, as it was a time he liked most to be left alone himself. A thought struck, and his head appeared once more.
"Unless you're not?"
Velvet: Velvet's face fell as Alex backed out of the room - and he was back fast enough to see the disappointment, and to see it turn into something vaguely akin to delight, but far more muted. "No! I'm just about sick of Robinson Crusoe, to tell you the truth. Why?" she asked, closing the book and setting aside so that he can see very plainly that she is not studying anymore.
Alex: He stood toe-to-toe with the threshold; not in, not out. Couldn't be accused of over-enthusiasm, nor of serious reluctance when there was a clear line drawn. In fact, so in need of not-appearing-desperate (Alex couldn't list the number of female friends he had, much beyond the single digit) he addressed the doorknob rather than her. "Could be offerin' food and watching entertainin' crap on the idiot box?" he offered the handle, scratching the back of his head in studied utter nonchalence. Face changed somewhat, sliding from clear uncaring, to vague uncertainty and then smoothed once again.
"Funny thing, bars," he added in a conversational way, "They're pretty much all alike. Not so fun when you figure that out."
Velvet: Normally, Velvet might be a little flustered at being asked by her former Tale husband to come over for snacks and TV. It's not so much that Velvet is flustered by every boy she encounters privately - she could hold a perfectly civil, blush-free conversation with Phoenix, and she certainly doesn't spend very much time acting shy around Murdock. But encountering Shahryar face-to-face was still a relatively new thing for her, even as long as they'd known each other. And if he'd asked her over flirtatiously, looking her in the eye, she would be blushing, and looking askance and playing with her hair. Instead, he's almost bashful, and it amuses her to end. It's also the only reason she agrees, because if he had looked her in the eye and used all the suave on her? She would be too flustered to accept.
"Oh, really?" she asked, teasingly feigning surprised interest. "Quelle surprise." She smiled, stretched idly in her chair, pushing out and away from the desk that she'd been sitting at all evening. "What sort of food? What sort of entertainment?"
Alex: There was a pointed look right at that idle stretching, the implied 'you've got nothing better to do' going unspoken, but a masterful conveyance. He didn't often speak to Velvet; it too awkward, especially to face someone when you had shared little details with and yet never really known, and there was that new 'platonic female' dynamic that was just beyond different. On the other hand, treating her like he would any other friend - albeit with slightly less conversational focus on booze, birds and sex - meant he didn't have to pretend to accomplishments he'd never learnt.
"Can't cook," he said flatly, "So you've got the choice of New York's finest take-out." A teasing grin flitted across his face. "My movie collection isn't somethin' you'd really be interested in, Vel. Unless you're into 'Naughty girls gone-'"
Velvet: "No! No, that's okay," Velvet interjected hurriedly, that familiar flush rising into her cheeks as Alex reminded her just where his interests usually lay. One hand going to the back of her head, she shrugged. "Take-out sounds all right... and television in your room, I suppose...?" she trailed off as the full terms of his invitation dawned on her. "Is anyone else coming?" It was a very casual question - mere curiosity, and the answer wouldn't make or break her agreement. Indeed, she was even getting up from her chair and shifting papers around, looking for her keys as she said it.
Alex: He made a face that wasn't happy with the idea - indeed, it hadn't even occured to Alex, much beyond 'Velvet is a very shy person' that his suggestion might be interpreted a certain way. Besides, he would have argued, Velvet wasn't a girl, she was Velvet. That very fact made her beyond such innuendo and suggestive talk. And, while he wouldn't share it unless dragged out of him, he'd really appreciate the quiet and gentle company from the person he'd got used to having as a friend.
"Got no one I'd invite to join us, 'nless you're thinking of someone?" he spoke as though it didn't matter, which really - it wouldn't, unless she wanted someone along who'd talk his ear off. Talking, during action sequences of any kind, should be punishable by death.
Velvet: "Not really, no," she admitted, glancing up from the search for her keys to flash a small smile at Alex. Well, at least no one who wouldn't poke and tease her for days about agreeing to take-out and TV with Shaaaahryaaaar. A moment after that admission, she found her keys beneath a sheaf of cloth swatches, and she emerged from the office proper. That was, of course, Alex's cue to back out of the threshold, and she followed, locking the door behind her.
Alex: He did so gracelessly, falling into following as though he did it usually instead of never. Waited, out-ranked. "You got a favorite type of take-out, or will we be playing 'random selection'?" he teased, awaiting her choice. It was a pattern, unrecognisably Alex in the way he and Velvet moved fluidly in a dance of interactions; he asked the questions, she led the way they went. "And you not got one of those girly-girl movies you're gonna try and make any man sit through?"
Velvet: "Random selection sounds all right," Velvet shrugged as they started down the hall. As for the movie, though, she cast Alex a displeased glance. "Really? Do I seem--oh! I forgot my Compendium." They weren't very far from her office, so she just put up one finger - 'one second' - and dashed back into her office, leaving Alex to stand there and repent for his suggestion that she'd ever force anyone to sit through a chick flick. Those sorts of things were for girls' nights only! (And only after sufficient amounts of wheedling from the other parties.)
A moment later, she'd returned, Compendium in hand. "There's just, well, a lot going on I need to be on top of," she explained apologetically once she reached Alex again.
Alex: He nodded agreement; he knew of her roommate and her roommate's 'boyfriend's Tale. "He's not an Arabic," he said with careful deliberation. "Keeping an eye with your Librarian skills?" She had a knack it seemed, for getting people to do as she wished without thinking too hard about their own choices. Very Scheherezade, teasing through the Tales until she had the ones she wanted in her hand. "Not able to take a night off. I know."
It didn't take a long walk; he was down the stairwell and across from her office, and pushed open the door into his own room as soon as inside the shared apartment. Despite being every inch the self-assured, self-involved and chauvinistic male, Alex managed to keep his quarters in surprisingly tidy conditions. 'Course, when you considered it as the place he brought back girls, it made sense.
Velvet: "She's my friend, Alex," Velvet admonished gently, looking slightly put out by the suggestion that she shouldn't be involved in Rick's disappearance. "Besides, Professor Anser gave up his right to care about this situation when he hung up on me in the middle of the night." Yes, she's still just a little sore about that. Think of the trauma they could've been spared! Blood spatters on pages, honestly. She thought Cygna was going to go into a catatonic state, with nothing left to clean. Nevertheless, she didn't sulk over the matter too terribly much.
As they stepped into Alex's room, she looked it over appraisingly. "It's been ages since I've been in one of these rooms," she mused, the familiar turn-of-the-century architecture mixed with recent renovations tickling at her memory.
Alex: He raised his eyebrows, all over-familiar adult male role-model figure in a matter of seconds, as he leant against the mantlepiece. "Should hope so," he said, folding arms against his chest. "Unless Varletti's managed something I didn't think he'd edge near in a month of Sundays." He wasn't there to see an answer written across Velvet's face, but pawed through a box of take-out flyers, seemingly carefully preserved rather than thrown out from the litter of advertising that hit the New York streets. Of course, some had valuable phone numbers written on them.
He fanned them out, waving them gently and sending a waft of air towards her. "What's your poison, princess? Chinese, Indian, Thai, or American? Regular plethora of choice here at Casa Alex."
Velvet: The answer Alex would have seen was mixed - eyes rolling with exasperated amusement, nose crinkling with distaste for the idea of being in Murdock's room alone with him, lips pursing with disapproval for the enmity between the two men. As Alex rifled through the menus, Vel stood - not without a small degree of awkwardness - waiting for direction to sit here or there. "Oh... Thai is good." A pause, and more helpfully she added, "I like Pad Thai, with chicken. But I'll eat whatever you want to get?"
Alex: It wasn't something you could do with a grand gesture, but Alex had what he had to work with. "One Thai feast coming up," he proclaimed, hitting a button on his cell with an alacrity that suggested perhaps a little over-familiarity with the take-out restaurant. Suitably 'Asian-ethnic' music played tinnily in his ear, and he pulled a face at Velvet, all screwed up eyes and tongue stuck out. Childish, but a different sort of childish than 'bratty'.
"You can sit, you know," he said mildly, indicating with a vast sweep of his arm to the veritable smorgasbord of choice in his apartment; Alex's bed, neatly made up or, a futon folded into a fat sausage of a couch-substitute, with boxes to stand in for tables. "Promise not to ravish you." She would've seen the brief flash of teeth in a grin a little too mocking for something that was more than likely with any other girl standing there.
Velvet: Velvet wasn't expecting Alex to pull such a childish face, and it prompted a peal of unexpected laughter. It was covered up quickly with a sheepish little shrug - right, of course she could sit - and the slightest flush rising into her cheeks (he was teasing, of course, but, well...). Once seated, she busied herself with flipping through the pages of her Compendium, making sure there were no new developments, no snarky comments by Anser she should reply to. A terrible conversationalist even at the best of times, she rationalized this less-than-social activity by reasoning Alex was busy with ordering food.
Alex: Alex raised his eyebrows a fraction, watching his non-date for the evening happily immerse herself in a social connection device; in other words, communicating with anyone but him. Thank God for an overabundant sense of self-confidence, he thought, as his lips twitched into a self-deprecatory smile. That, and not wanting Velvet in bed, as he'd apparently have lost her already. Before he could think of something to say, perhaps to drag her attention away from the clearly more interesting Compendium, the phone was answered by a young person who had a thick incomprehensible accent, and found his own drawl as unintelligible.
After fifteen minutes of explaining, complete with useless hand gestures to accompany the explanation, Alex snapped the cell phone shut, and threw it in the direction of the bed with a speed that implied a touch of frustration, then dropped into the seat besides Velvet. While he was never one for respecting serious 'personal space' issues, he was both tired, and not in the least observant of body-language when it didn't serve a particular purpose, and was thus an untidy mass of limbs and sprawled legs that took up far too much space for anyone not willing to be seriously 'friendly'.
"Fifteen minutes. If she's delivering it here, that is. Could be a little while, had some trouble with the number 'three'." He gave her an irreverent grin.
Velvet: The Librarian looked up, startled, when Alex threw the phone down and sprawled beside her. "Oh... that's annoying, when they don't quite understand. I hope our orders aren't messed up," she said, quite blandly, even as she closed the Compendium while pulling her own limbs closer to her body. It wasn't so much that she wanted to eliminate all possibility of touching Alex (though it'd be a perceptive person indeed to know that), but rather an unconscious reply to his sprawl - he's all over, she's contained; he's a suave asshole, and she's a shy storyteller.
Nodding toward the television, she gave Alex a small, shy, quirky little smirk. "So, food's taken care of. What's up for entertainment?"
Alex: He waved a lazy hand in an airy sort of movement. "I'm not able to command the air-waves. Ladies' choice, darlin. Whatever you can find." The remote landed in her lap gently, plucked from the box beside him and swooping in a low arch from box-to-hand-to-Velvet's-knees. Apparent unconcern at the choice of entertainment. So long as it's not alone.
Velvet: Velvet started when the remote was tossed into her lap - she was never an athletic girl, and projectiles flying at her tended to make her nervous. She recovered admirably, however, and managed to turn on the television without any mishap. Clearly couch surfing was not something beyond her grasp. Flipping through the channels - commercials, commercials, more commercials - waiting for something to come up. Suddenly across the screen flashed a city scape, overgrown and crumbling. She stopped. The emblem in the corner indicated this was the history channel. The narrator intoned a future without humans, and what would become of the planet.
"I saw a book about that..." she said, quietly, watching the screen with intent interest. "And there was an article... oh, I forget where, someone at school showed me. A timeline for how long it'd take for New York to succumb to the forces of nature if humans suddenly disappeared."
Alex: He stared at her blankly, gauging the intent look and the television screen itself - but he'd agreed to this, and settled back against the wall with a vague noise of disapproval. Just proved his point; Velvet wasn't a girl-girl at all. "Humans are nature," he pointed out in a conversational argumentative tone; as if he were disagreeing just to disagree.
Velvet: Vel looked over at Alex, mildly surprised by his tone and disapproval. "Well, what we do is hardly natural! You don't see," she gestured to the television with the remote, "Birds and elephants and monkeys building urban concrete jungles, generating electricity to run cities..." she trailed off, distracted again by the narration of the hypothetical future, which soon ended with a note to stay tuned to find out how ecosystems would drastically change the landscape. A commercial for another History Channel - Countdown to Armageddon - started, and Velvet made a face, and leaned over to hand the remote to Alex. "Kind of macabre."
Alex: He made a face in return. "Kinda incredibly serious, sugar. 'Sides, who knows, without the humans around to shake stuff up, the birds and elephants and monkeys might." His smile was pure mischief. "You want to watch it, darlin, I gave you control," he waved away the remote as if fearing it biting him. "Doom'n gloom for us tonight, then!"
Velvet: Withdrawing her offer of the remote, the expression on Velvet's face turned amused, and whimsical, as she imagined a world without humans, but with birds and elephants and monkeys actually constructing skyscrapers in construction hats, going to work in business suits. Scenes from a children's book danced in her head - luckily, she rarely used the internet for anything but school, so that realm was closed off to her imagination. "They're much more suited for it, aren't they? Elephants, and monkeys. Even birds, I suppose -- don't quite need spectacular feats of engineering, do they? Cygna and I saw part of a show on elephants. Their trunks are really quite amazing." Suddenly self-conscious of how boring she must seem, prattling on about elephant construction, she fell silent, her attention returning to the television, commercial for cleaning product with a cheerful jingle playing.
Alex: He grinned at her exuberance; not so much making fun as amused by it, childish but animated and interested. Girls he knew were either bored or buffeted by life; no longer willing or able to reach for imaginative heights like elephants using their trunks to build stuff. "I'd like a trunk," he said aloud, thoughtfully. "Make a ton of money just for havin' one, and it'd make polo a hell of a lot easier." He drummed his fingers against the side of the seat, thinking about it. "Be useful. You think I'd look as pretty with a trunk, babes?"
Velvet: "Prettier," Velvet replied blithely, shifting where she sat so her back was slightly straighter. She's teasing him as much as she's (obtusely, granted) expressing her displeasure over being called 'babes'. The commercial switched again, to a movie preview - commercial breaks were endless, weren't they? - and she added, with a sideways glance at Alex and just a hint of smile on the corners of her lips, "You'd also be more useful. I'm sure there are ways to accrue profits for the Atheneum via a sideshow freak."
Alex: "You'd put me up on show?" Alex sounded affronted and outraged but his grin was broad, and he could not manage to compose himself to solemnity. "That's not nice at all, Vel. Putting the Atheneum ahead of friendship like that. What about our lasting, story-bond?" In response, perhaps, to her straightening herself and sitting all tidy-like, he slumped back down, folding his arms tight across his chest; the picture of a perfect sulk.
Velvet: "It'd be compensation," Velvet explained, though her gaze suggested she was intent upon the television, "For the brawls and jail and bail. Of course, it'd get a bit circular. Get in a fight, get put in the freak show, drink to forget the humiliation, get in a fight..." Again, she looked over at Alex, appraising his trunk-less visage. "Much better that you don't have a trunk, I suppose."
The show came on again, and her attention turned back to the screen. Life after mankind seemed like it would be poignantly bleak and beautiful at the same time - though she really didn't care for the narration and dull explanations. It'd be nicer if there were only pictures - thankfully, that's what the mute button is for. Pointing the remote at the monitor again, Velvet turned the sound off. The remote was set aside, and she leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin in hands, watching the silent unfolding of a post-apocalyptic planet.
Alex: It had to be said he didn't watch that much tv with the sound off. The whole point of the television was that it blared sound; meaningless or not, he didn't care - he'd listen to endless commercials if necessary. Sound meant the room was loud and filled and there was no white space for thoughts to seep through. But Velvet had charge, and she seemed intent, curled in on the predicted vision as though it were something beautiful as it unfurled, rather than a torturous look at a life that probably wouldn't ever happen.
He sat back, allowing the quiet to bleed into his conscious and watched Velvet watching the screen. Arms folded. Head rested back against the wall. Watching still, but allowing himself to think, too.