(Untitled)

[river_meimei]

River has chalk. (In three colors!)

River also has settled herself in a booth.

The conclusion is logical.

Which is to say, she's hard at work on covering the table with chalk drawings. Right now, she's making careful diagonal stripes, each just about a centimeter wide.

[Tiny tags: Vlad Tepesh, Teller, Quatre Raberba Winner, Skitch]

Comments

[doesntsaymuch]

Teller has doughnuts today!

He offers River her pick of a wide assortment, and then puts the box down, careful not to disturb her chalk drawings.

[river_meimei]

River is drawing, with great focus.

Drawing, drawi--

ooh hey doughnuts! Doughnuts from the silent dude.

River beams at him, and accepts one with very dusty fingers. (Maple with sprinkles.)

[doesntsaymuch]

Good choice!

He picks up one of the pieces of chalk River isn't using and starts drawing his own little doodles.

It appears to be a cow. With... big, bat wings? Well, no one ever said that he makes much sense.

[river_meimei]

River casts his drawing a slightly dubious look, over the top of her doughnut, but forbears to comment.

Possibly she feels it's impolite, or possibly she doesn't actually object to bat-winged cows. (Or possibly she's seeing something else entirely.)

[vojvode]

A presence ghosts across her thoughts. Cool as the Autumn air, grey and ephemeral as cobwebs, and yet heavy with the gravitas of centuries.

A man in a dove grey suit is moving through the crowd, his gaze drifting from patron to patron, searching for something. His gaze is sharp, even behind dark glasses.

When he catches her eye, his hand rises to touch the brim of his hat in reverence.

[river_meimei]

River's head snaps around, a little too sharply.

He's--

(River, sweeting)

--he catches the attention.

[vojvode]

She is striking, he thinks. Gypsy blood perhaps? She has the wariness of a street urchin, and the elegance of a dancer.

And a hint of violence about her eyes. How alluring.

A smile spreads across his features as he approaches her table.

"I knew a man once, long ago, who drew such figures, only he used a length of straw and drew them in the sand on the floor."

The man was a mathematician, sentenced for heresy, and the floor was the hard-packed earth of a Turkish prison.

[river_meimei]

River's eyes flick down to the table, and back up, very fast.

He watches, behind those dark eyes. She knows that kind of watching.

(They called her a creature of extraordinary grace.)

"I'm not," she says.

Her fingers spread against the table's edge, as if feeling its delineations. "Straw breaks."

[04_after]

Quatre spots her when he walks into the bar, hanging up his phone conversation with Pelle and tucking the earpiece away inside the pocket of his overcoat (it was scheduled to rain, today, but he managed to avoid it by working even later than usual. The colony wiring maintenance checks usually run around 11pm on Fridays, but the rain will restart in another half hour once they are done).

He unbuttons the overcoat as he turns to the Bar, removes it, and folds it neatly--he leaves it with her in exchange for a tall mug of hot tea (rooibos), and a 'drink that River likes'.

Which is why, as he settles down across from her (being careful to walk within her line of sight), he sets a mango smoothie with boba (and a large boba straw, as well as a decorative umbrella) on the half of the table she hasn't yet marketed with chalk.

He's inspecting her existing work, interested.

[river_meimei]

Scribble scribble-- oh hey!

Quatre gets a quick and beaming smile, before River sets her chalk down to reach for the drink. She picks it up in both hands, carefully, which might or might not be just because the glass is full.

(It's not just because the glass is full.)

The chalk dust on her fingers immediately smears into the condensation, but so be it.

[04_after]

Quatre's sipping his tea, but he smiles back at her.

"Is it a private work?"

(That is: does she mind if he joins in?)

[river_meimei]

River has to take a moment to answer, because she's occupied with a tapioca bubble.

mmmm boba.

Then, cheerfully, "We'll call it a collaborative experimentation."

[g00d_d0ggie]

The drawings have caught the attention of a small, hovering robot, who floats over to take a closer look.

River may or may not catch the whirring hum of the hoverthrusters. She's more likely to be concerned by the fact that the robot is blocking her light source a bit.

[river_meimei]

River lives in a society that has plenty of hovercraft technology, though the basis may be different. It's the kind of sound she's used to hearing, but that also means it's easy for it to fade into the background.

Whether River's actually oblivious or not is an open question, but she doesn't look up immediately. All she says is, "Your shadow is asymmetrical." It's unclear if this is disapproving or just a statement of fact.

Beat.

Beat.

Now she glances up, and blinks.

[g00d_d0ggie]

The little robot cants its head at her. After a moment, it waves.

[river_meimei]

River looks a little startled.

(And a little charmed.)

"Hi," she says, as seriously as if she were speaking to a human.

[shoeless_ed]

A poof of red hair rises over the edge of the table, followed by a very tanned, childish face with big brown eyes.

"Oooh! Drawing drawing!" She eyes the diagonal lines. "Why is there a crosswalk on the table? Will there be cars? Small cars? And small people?"

[river_meimei]

River blinks at her, blank and slightly bewildered.

"It's a variable," she tries, half a question.

[shoeless_ed]

Ed ponders. "So it is just in case there are small cars or small people?"

A Corgi jumps into the booth seat opposite River, stands on his hind legs, and places his forepaws on the table. He sniffs at the chalk and sneezes.

[river_meimei]

"No."

And then River gets distracted by the corgi. Her face lights up with the small, soft smile that only babies and animals can coax from her. "Hi," she adds.

She may or may not remember that she's met him before, but it doesn't really matter. She'd react the same.