Smirks over coffee
There are no manners left in the world. What is this generation coming to?
6/27/2005
Logfile from Shaw.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The White Room
A small, comfortable little place, this - a minuscule cafe of little fame and ridiculously good coffee. The main room is small and rather inordinately comfortable, prevented from being claustrophobic by a theme of whites in the decor and the fact that the regulars - a sundry bunch of academics, artists, lawyers, workpersons, and every other group New York has to offer - are generally quietly occupied with coffee and good, solid plates of food. There is no theme, no specialized and exotic varieties of coffee or tea - the atmosphere is thick with cigarette smoke and comfort, not desperate sophistication.
--
With the lunchtime crowd long gone, and still hours before any pre-dinner rush, the little cafe's relatively empty, giving Shaw plenty of room to stretch out at a table with coffee and a couple of the day's newspapers. He's wearing a good suit, but a casual attitude to go with it, and frequently glances up from his reading to watch the city passing by the windows or just people-watch inside the cafe itself.
The door opens, and a dark clad woman steps inside of the white room. She lets the door swing closed behind her as she brushes her hands down her body to shake off some of the excess water. It's raining, though she apparently did a pretty good job staying out of it. The woman adjusts the black leather corset about her waist. straightens her top and takes a look around the room with the pair of empty black orbs she calls eyes.
--
Blythe
Unique, is one way to explain the woman in front of you. Her natrually jet black hair fringes her face hanging to mid-neck, just abover her shoulders. It ripples with a blue hue through out, and the left front portion of it is a striking silver white.
Her clearly almond shaped eyes make it clear that she is of asian heritage. However, her eyes themselves are simply pools of almost transparent black that reflect back no visible light. Sometimes these same orbs seem to have an oddly crimson hue to them. Her nose is simple and round, her lips full and thick, with all of her features wrought in extreme pallor, with only a hint of asian gold to her tone.
Perhaps it wasnt for the oddity of her eyes she'd be at the very least, 'cute', or exoticlly lovely. As it stands now, something about her can only be described as haunting, and parhaps even a bit unsettling.
Her body is shapely and fit with suprising musculature on her petite frame, though still very asian in build. She's not very large up top, and not very large on the bottom. Proportionate is perhaps the word.
She clothes herself in what would appears to have once been a strapless form fitting evening gown of shimmering black fabric. The shimmering fabric hugs her chest and gathers between her breasts but promptly dissapears beneath a heavily buckled black leather corset as it reaches her ribcage peaking out once more, after the corset ends at her hips, in long tatterted shreads that vary in length, some reaching her knees. Her Legs seem to also be clad in leather pants that fir more losely than would be expected, and dissapear into heeled knee high boots. Her ensamble is completed by a black tailored trench coat that hangs open to her ankles.
--
Shaw's attention swings around at the next entry in his gallery, and he judges the woman unself-consciously. Not even trying to hide it: he'll look where he wants, and does. But not for long, because that would be rude, so while she's adjusting and such, he drops his eyes back to the papers in front of him, his hand reaching out absently for the cup next to them.
Blythe slides further into the room toward the counter, asking simply, "Do you happen to have a chai latte?"she asks in a suprisingly drifty sounding voice, very sonorous, "I appologize for asking but I cant see that well."she says. The man behind the counter looks her in the eyes and swallows a bit and simply nods ' yes, maam, we do.' and goes about getting the beverage.
Shaw might twist his head to catch the notes and tones of that voice, but then, he might also be fiddling with his reading, folding over one page to get to the next. Through the crinkling rustles, he does switch her another glance, more thoughtful.
Blythe smiles, though its a bit of a disconcerting site, "Why thank you." she says, as the man passes her the beverage and visibly shivers. Blythe puts down the money for the beverage and then shoves a large bill into his hand. "Cause you're so kind.." she says and turns around as the man simply nods to her readily and apparently quite happily.
Still watching her, and still not hiding it, Shaw folds his paper down to the table to rest under a hand's lightly drumming fingertips. His gaze switches to the counterman, then back to the woman; his mouth is flat, tight, to suit his sharper study of the scene playing out.
Blythe looks around the room once more and graces shaw with a smirking gaze and a nod of her head as she takes her beverage to a table and has a seat.
Obviously amused, and not at all fazed, Shaw inclines his head back to her nod. It seems to be enough for him, pending any further excitement, though as he lifts his cup for another swallow, he blinks a stray glance across her. The clothes, maybe, or the face. No, definitely the clothes, and he puts the cup down with studied, smirking care.
Blythe settles at her table and, were he everpresent black trench coat still everpresent and not covering some indecent man somewhere, she'd likely be removing it right now. As it stands shes left bareshouldered and barearmed save a pair of black elbow length gloves. The woman picks up her hot cup which seems to steam more than any hot beverage should given the current temperature of the room, though the steam doesnt seem to really drift very far sort of hanging around her in an odd fashion. Every so often she reaches out a hand to fan and scatter the lingering steam away.
Shaw finally decides, since their tables aren't /too/ far apart, and the cafe /is/ quiet, to pursue his curiosity. "Didn't expect the weather to turn so fast. I was hoping for a few more sunny days."
Blythe shrugs, "Well its been changing for a couple days, didn't seem to be too quick."she says, as her cup alltogether stops steaming and she sighs, taking a sip. "But I'm never the best judge of these things I suppose"
"Oh? Why do you say that?" Shaw pushes the papers' stack forward to give him room for elbows' leaning prop, and he recenters his coffee accordingly. "I haven't been paying attention to the forecasts, myself. Is that what you mean?"
Blythe smirks a bit and draws another sip of her beverage, "Not particularly, it's just been humid for days, I figuredit'd rain any time. But I dont watch the weather. Talkative sort arent you?"she asks leaning back in her seat.
Shaw admits cheerfully, "I'm bored, and you got an interesting reaction out of that man--" he nods toward the counter "--so what the hell. Do you mind it?"
Blythe shrugs, "Not particularly, I get that that alot, people seem to think I dress oddly.. Perhaps they find it intimidating, I dont know. "she turns her gaze toward the adjacent wall breifly before taking another gulp of chai.
Shaw dips his head. "No, not intimidating." Through narrowed eyes, he judges her look away, such an obvious body-language sign, and decides, "I've bothered you enough. Excuse me."
Blythe smirks, "IS something wrong peering at me so strangely, sir?"she asks with a slightly wry tone. "I suppose I get that alot too. " She closes her eyes breifly as she takes another sip of her beverage.
"No," Shaw responds to the coffee cup in his hands' embracing curve. "Curiosity, that's all. I did say I was bored, and now you're smirking at me -- well, you've /been/ smirking at me -- and I've decided to remove my curiosity and leave you be, so . . ." His breath masters whatever temper is bubbling up to perilously level voice and hooded black eyes. "So, I'm leaving you be, if you prefer. Just two strangers enjoying their coffee, separately, yes?"
Blythe says, "Oh, I simply thought I was being plesant. And rather polite about things." she says and opens her eyes again, she looks at him out of their corners but its impossible to tell. "I suppose if you prefer to sit in silence it would likely be no skin of my back either. But boredom generally warrents a cure, and I must say, this is fairly entertaing. "She leans back and closes her eyes again
Shaw points out, "See, you keep /saying/ polite things, and then you give off entirely different, or at least contradictory, signals. You close your eyes. You look away. You lean away from me. I do think I'd prefer silence to puzzling out what a stranger is trying to tell me," he concludes, keeping a wary eye on her now.
Blythe says, "Well being immediately too comfotable with anyone in this city isn't wise, and last I heard it wasn't a sin to relax. It's not always so easy to smile you are aware. But I suppose that my manners have gotten a bit rusty over the years as you seem to be very keen on the more proper derivations of them." She turns to face him in her seat crossing her legs and looking straight at him with those two black holes of eyes.
Shaw rewards her with a faint, pleased smile. If her eyes disconcert him, he isn't showing it. His lean forward remains casual; the set of shoulders and head, easy. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he cajoles. "Thank you. I applaud staying cautious, but if I'd wanted to hurt you, I would have. Not in such a public place, certainly." And his smile stretches briefly into a grin. "Bad for business."
Blythe chuckles, " Only because it's bad for buisiness how interesting. Business you say?"she arches an eyebrow, "Of what sort? If I may ask?" she runs a hand through her oddly hued hair, pushing it out of her face. If he's recognizable she'd never know.
Shaw turns a hand over to present an empty palm, and he rolls his head around to indicate the cafe. "This one. Can't have patrons brawling while you're trying to sell coffee, right? Everyone would head to Starbucks and never look back." Then he shakes his head. "Not /my/ business, though. Sorry for the confusion."
Blythe says, "Well any brawling would of course be bad for buisiness here or other wise. I was simply wondering if you had to keep a sharp image for some reason. "Despite the dialogue, blythe has made no indication to move any close or switch tables. Still about 8 feet away.
Shaw agrees, "I do have to worry about my image, at least a little, so I'm wondering if I should keep talking with you. Forgive my bluntness, but your eyes . . . you wouldn't happen to be a mutant, would you?"
Blythe says, "Oh that, blind in one of them and dont see to well out of the other so I wear sclera contacts, looks alot nicer than an eyepatch or sunglasses. Even if it is a bit odd. Never really cared for sunglasses, besides it matches the outfit." without missing a beat. "My favorite place to get them has to be 9mm special FX. They do beautiful work. Pricey but its not really an object."
Shaw gusts a sigh and tenders an apologetic smile, very nicely crafted, with dimples and all. "I /am/ sorry; one can never be too careful in the city. It seems to attract the freaks, you know," and he makes a shudder, the smile disappearing into a corkscrew of distaste. "Can't wait for the MRA to pass. It's a step in the right direction, and long overdue. Anyway. I'm sorry. About your condition. I haven't heard of that shop. Where is it?"
Blythe chuckles, "Oregon oddly enough, but they have a website." she says, "I had a friend of mine order them for me since I have a problem seeing the computer screens well, it gives me a headache. Something about the glowing from it really does bother my eyes something horrible."she sighs, "The MRA hrm, I dont know much about it, TV's are just as bad so I tend to be very behind in the news."
Shaw makes a sympathetic noise. "CRTs and the like /can/ fry you pretty fast, even if you take breaks. I've had much better progress since switching to LCD displays, but everyone's different, of course." He drains his cup and puts it aside again, leaving his hands free to fold on the tabletop. One thumb taps idly atop the other. "Oh, the MRA -- well, lots we could say there, isn't it? But I've taken up enough of your time, I know. Maybe if we both happen by here again?"
Blythe simply nods, "I go everywhere... "she says, "I'm sure I'll be back here again. I thank you for the company, "she says standing in her seat and offering him a bow rather than a handshake.
"Such as it was," Shaw responds with the barest touch of irritation, not alleviated by her gesture. But he sits back and gathers up his own things for eventual departure, and he adds more temperately, "Really, you'd go a lot farther, and more smoothly, if you dialed down the smirk a little. One might get the impression, seeing it, that you're just another youngster playing at cynical disaffection."
Blythe chuckles, "This city will do that to a person, especially if not always under the best of circumstances. You'll have to excuse that thats been my situation for some time."she says, "But it keeps me busy. Perhaps I'm simply always curious?"she shrugs and sips the last of her latte.
Another judicious nod, and Shaw supposes, "Whatever keeps you going. Certainly the city can affect people in different ways. I do excuse you, young lady." Magnanimous, he, and polite to the hilt. "If you'll excuse me? I've a meeting to trot off to."
Blythe gestures lightly, "of course."she says, "Good luck with the buisiness of the day."
Shaw smiles. "Thank you. May I not need it!" And he goes, lumbering out the door into the rain.
[Log ends.]
6/27/2005
Logfile from Shaw.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The White Room
A small, comfortable little place, this - a minuscule cafe of little fame and ridiculously good coffee. The main room is small and rather inordinately comfortable, prevented from being claustrophobic by a theme of whites in the decor and the fact that the regulars - a sundry bunch of academics, artists, lawyers, workpersons, and every other group New York has to offer - are generally quietly occupied with coffee and good, solid plates of food. There is no theme, no specialized and exotic varieties of coffee or tea - the atmosphere is thick with cigarette smoke and comfort, not desperate sophistication.
--
With the lunchtime crowd long gone, and still hours before any pre-dinner rush, the little cafe's relatively empty, giving Shaw plenty of room to stretch out at a table with coffee and a couple of the day's newspapers. He's wearing a good suit, but a casual attitude to go with it, and frequently glances up from his reading to watch the city passing by the windows or just people-watch inside the cafe itself.
The door opens, and a dark clad woman steps inside of the white room. She lets the door swing closed behind her as she brushes her hands down her body to shake off some of the excess water. It's raining, though she apparently did a pretty good job staying out of it. The woman adjusts the black leather corset about her waist. straightens her top and takes a look around the room with the pair of empty black orbs she calls eyes.
--
Blythe
Unique, is one way to explain the woman in front of you. Her natrually jet black hair fringes her face hanging to mid-neck, just abover her shoulders. It ripples with a blue hue through out, and the left front portion of it is a striking silver white.
Her clearly almond shaped eyes make it clear that she is of asian heritage. However, her eyes themselves are simply pools of almost transparent black that reflect back no visible light. Sometimes these same orbs seem to have an oddly crimson hue to them. Her nose is simple and round, her lips full and thick, with all of her features wrought in extreme pallor, with only a hint of asian gold to her tone.
Perhaps it wasnt for the oddity of her eyes she'd be at the very least, 'cute', or exoticlly lovely. As it stands now, something about her can only be described as haunting, and parhaps even a bit unsettling.
Her body is shapely and fit with suprising musculature on her petite frame, though still very asian in build. She's not very large up top, and not very large on the bottom. Proportionate is perhaps the word.
She clothes herself in what would appears to have once been a strapless form fitting evening gown of shimmering black fabric. The shimmering fabric hugs her chest and gathers between her breasts but promptly dissapears beneath a heavily buckled black leather corset as it reaches her ribcage peaking out once more, after the corset ends at her hips, in long tatterted shreads that vary in length, some reaching her knees. Her Legs seem to also be clad in leather pants that fir more losely than would be expected, and dissapear into heeled knee high boots. Her ensamble is completed by a black tailored trench coat that hangs open to her ankles.
--
Shaw's attention swings around at the next entry in his gallery, and he judges the woman unself-consciously. Not even trying to hide it: he'll look where he wants, and does. But not for long, because that would be rude, so while she's adjusting and such, he drops his eyes back to the papers in front of him, his hand reaching out absently for the cup next to them.
Blythe slides further into the room toward the counter, asking simply, "Do you happen to have a chai latte?"she asks in a suprisingly drifty sounding voice, very sonorous, "I appologize for asking but I cant see that well."she says. The man behind the counter looks her in the eyes and swallows a bit and simply nods ' yes, maam, we do.' and goes about getting the beverage.
Shaw might twist his head to catch the notes and tones of that voice, but then, he might also be fiddling with his reading, folding over one page to get to the next. Through the crinkling rustles, he does switch her another glance, more thoughtful.
Blythe smiles, though its a bit of a disconcerting site, "Why thank you." she says, as the man passes her the beverage and visibly shivers. Blythe puts down the money for the beverage and then shoves a large bill into his hand. "Cause you're so kind.." she says and turns around as the man simply nods to her readily and apparently quite happily.
Still watching her, and still not hiding it, Shaw folds his paper down to the table to rest under a hand's lightly drumming fingertips. His gaze switches to the counterman, then back to the woman; his mouth is flat, tight, to suit his sharper study of the scene playing out.
Blythe looks around the room once more and graces shaw with a smirking gaze and a nod of her head as she takes her beverage to a table and has a seat.
Obviously amused, and not at all fazed, Shaw inclines his head back to her nod. It seems to be enough for him, pending any further excitement, though as he lifts his cup for another swallow, he blinks a stray glance across her. The clothes, maybe, or the face. No, definitely the clothes, and he puts the cup down with studied, smirking care.
Blythe settles at her table and, were he everpresent black trench coat still everpresent and not covering some indecent man somewhere, she'd likely be removing it right now. As it stands shes left bareshouldered and barearmed save a pair of black elbow length gloves. The woman picks up her hot cup which seems to steam more than any hot beverage should given the current temperature of the room, though the steam doesnt seem to really drift very far sort of hanging around her in an odd fashion. Every so often she reaches out a hand to fan and scatter the lingering steam away.
Shaw finally decides, since their tables aren't /too/ far apart, and the cafe /is/ quiet, to pursue his curiosity. "Didn't expect the weather to turn so fast. I was hoping for a few more sunny days."
Blythe shrugs, "Well its been changing for a couple days, didn't seem to be too quick."she says, as her cup alltogether stops steaming and she sighs, taking a sip. "But I'm never the best judge of these things I suppose"
"Oh? Why do you say that?" Shaw pushes the papers' stack forward to give him room for elbows' leaning prop, and he recenters his coffee accordingly. "I haven't been paying attention to the forecasts, myself. Is that what you mean?"
Blythe smirks a bit and draws another sip of her beverage, "Not particularly, it's just been humid for days, I figuredit'd rain any time. But I dont watch the weather. Talkative sort arent you?"she asks leaning back in her seat.
Shaw admits cheerfully, "I'm bored, and you got an interesting reaction out of that man--" he nods toward the counter "--so what the hell. Do you mind it?"
Blythe shrugs, "Not particularly, I get that that alot, people seem to think I dress oddly.. Perhaps they find it intimidating, I dont know. "she turns her gaze toward the adjacent wall breifly before taking another gulp of chai.
Shaw dips his head. "No, not intimidating." Through narrowed eyes, he judges her look away, such an obvious body-language sign, and decides, "I've bothered you enough. Excuse me."
Blythe smirks, "IS something wrong peering at me so strangely, sir?"she asks with a slightly wry tone. "I suppose I get that alot too. " She closes her eyes breifly as she takes another sip of her beverage.
"No," Shaw responds to the coffee cup in his hands' embracing curve. "Curiosity, that's all. I did say I was bored, and now you're smirking at me -- well, you've /been/ smirking at me -- and I've decided to remove my curiosity and leave you be, so . . ." His breath masters whatever temper is bubbling up to perilously level voice and hooded black eyes. "So, I'm leaving you be, if you prefer. Just two strangers enjoying their coffee, separately, yes?"
Blythe says, "Oh, I simply thought I was being plesant. And rather polite about things." she says and opens her eyes again, she looks at him out of their corners but its impossible to tell. "I suppose if you prefer to sit in silence it would likely be no skin of my back either. But boredom generally warrents a cure, and I must say, this is fairly entertaing. "She leans back and closes her eyes again
Shaw points out, "See, you keep /saying/ polite things, and then you give off entirely different, or at least contradictory, signals. You close your eyes. You look away. You lean away from me. I do think I'd prefer silence to puzzling out what a stranger is trying to tell me," he concludes, keeping a wary eye on her now.
Blythe says, "Well being immediately too comfotable with anyone in this city isn't wise, and last I heard it wasn't a sin to relax. It's not always so easy to smile you are aware. But I suppose that my manners have gotten a bit rusty over the years as you seem to be very keen on the more proper derivations of them." She turns to face him in her seat crossing her legs and looking straight at him with those two black holes of eyes.
Shaw rewards her with a faint, pleased smile. If her eyes disconcert him, he isn't showing it. His lean forward remains casual; the set of shoulders and head, easy. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he cajoles. "Thank you. I applaud staying cautious, but if I'd wanted to hurt you, I would have. Not in such a public place, certainly." And his smile stretches briefly into a grin. "Bad for business."
Blythe chuckles, " Only because it's bad for buisiness how interesting. Business you say?"she arches an eyebrow, "Of what sort? If I may ask?" she runs a hand through her oddly hued hair, pushing it out of her face. If he's recognizable she'd never know.
Shaw turns a hand over to present an empty palm, and he rolls his head around to indicate the cafe. "This one. Can't have patrons brawling while you're trying to sell coffee, right? Everyone would head to Starbucks and never look back." Then he shakes his head. "Not /my/ business, though. Sorry for the confusion."
Blythe says, "Well any brawling would of course be bad for buisiness here or other wise. I was simply wondering if you had to keep a sharp image for some reason. "Despite the dialogue, blythe has made no indication to move any close or switch tables. Still about 8 feet away.
Shaw agrees, "I do have to worry about my image, at least a little, so I'm wondering if I should keep talking with you. Forgive my bluntness, but your eyes . . . you wouldn't happen to be a mutant, would you?"
Blythe says, "Oh that, blind in one of them and dont see to well out of the other so I wear sclera contacts, looks alot nicer than an eyepatch or sunglasses. Even if it is a bit odd. Never really cared for sunglasses, besides it matches the outfit." without missing a beat. "My favorite place to get them has to be 9mm special FX. They do beautiful work. Pricey but its not really an object."
Shaw gusts a sigh and tenders an apologetic smile, very nicely crafted, with dimples and all. "I /am/ sorry; one can never be too careful in the city. It seems to attract the freaks, you know," and he makes a shudder, the smile disappearing into a corkscrew of distaste. "Can't wait for the MRA to pass. It's a step in the right direction, and long overdue. Anyway. I'm sorry. About your condition. I haven't heard of that shop. Where is it?"
Blythe chuckles, "Oregon oddly enough, but they have a website." she says, "I had a friend of mine order them for me since I have a problem seeing the computer screens well, it gives me a headache. Something about the glowing from it really does bother my eyes something horrible."she sighs, "The MRA hrm, I dont know much about it, TV's are just as bad so I tend to be very behind in the news."
Shaw makes a sympathetic noise. "CRTs and the like /can/ fry you pretty fast, even if you take breaks. I've had much better progress since switching to LCD displays, but everyone's different, of course." He drains his cup and puts it aside again, leaving his hands free to fold on the tabletop. One thumb taps idly atop the other. "Oh, the MRA -- well, lots we could say there, isn't it? But I've taken up enough of your time, I know. Maybe if we both happen by here again?"
Blythe simply nods, "I go everywhere... "she says, "I'm sure I'll be back here again. I thank you for the company, "she says standing in her seat and offering him a bow rather than a handshake.
"Such as it was," Shaw responds with the barest touch of irritation, not alleviated by her gesture. But he sits back and gathers up his own things for eventual departure, and he adds more temperately, "Really, you'd go a lot farther, and more smoothly, if you dialed down the smirk a little. One might get the impression, seeing it, that you're just another youngster playing at cynical disaffection."
Blythe chuckles, "This city will do that to a person, especially if not always under the best of circumstances. You'll have to excuse that thats been my situation for some time."she says, "But it keeps me busy. Perhaps I'm simply always curious?"she shrugs and sips the last of her latte.
Another judicious nod, and Shaw supposes, "Whatever keeps you going. Certainly the city can affect people in different ways. I do excuse you, young lady." Magnanimous, he, and polite to the hilt. "If you'll excuse me? I've a meeting to trot off to."
Blythe gestures lightly, "of course."she says, "Good luck with the buisiness of the day."
Shaw smiles. "Thank you. May I not need it!" And he goes, lumbering out the door into the rain.
[Log ends.]