Post by Emily on Oct 24, 2015 5:45:56 GMT -8
CAST: Hannah Fein (scalesenpointe@aol.com), Jude Fein (brandofheii@aol.com), Gabriel Thistlewaite (hooliganjuggalo@aol.com)
SUMMARY: One of Hannah's frequent trips to Joe's begins with a socially awkward introduction to Gabriel, who is sadly left in the dust once she recognizes a shadow waving to her from the other side of the window she normally sits in front of.
TW: none
[Hannah] She'd turned her head to watch Beth storm past her on the sidewalk, and before she could find her way through long, loose cooper waves that the wind had kicked up around her face so that she could turn her head back, Tucker followed. Oh! She'd been meaning to...! No, not just then. Something sour, like the feeling that sucks the back of your throat closed just before you give in and cry, hit her like a tidal wave as the pair's energy crashed onto her proverbial shore. No, not just then. Definitely not just then. No half-smile, no curl of sensible fingers in greeting for either; she just pulled at the edges of a grey cardigan that was much too big for her, wrapping, hiding, protecting herself against elements most never worried about... and minded her own business. She'd been doing that a lot, recently, the minding her own business bit. Her own turmoil, her own blue-purple-black whirl of nothing she properly understood and everything she was most afraid of demanded a toll that had to be paid before she paid anyone else's tolls for them. Out. Out of the manor, out of Wimbledon, she'd fled for the evening, seeking comfort. Seeking Nothing Special. Wool gloves kept her weapons under wraps; a thoughtful gift. Hannah reached into the front pocket of dark denim skinnies that ended in black ballet flats and fished for cash as she stepped onto the welcome mat that said 'go away.'
[Gabriel] Seeing that Joes had closed when he got there, Gabe would furrow his brows as he sighed. So with his hands in his leather jacket pockets, he'd pull out his cell phone to find the nearest coffee shop. Waiting for the results to come he'd, move away from the door and would accidently bump into Hannah. "Oh Im sorry..." He said when he looked at who he'd bump into. Seeing it was a woman, he'd speak. "My appologies." He said as he put his phone away. The older man of near 40 would speak once more as he had a touch of an American accent to him, having spent the last five years or in America. "I was just looking for the nearest coffee shop." He said smiling some. His face was smooth except for a small black soul patch and a black mustache. Looking around, he felt like such a tourist that he felt a little warm in his face.
[Hannah] Bumping. Bumping always startles the fair-faced little empath. Hannah's breath caught in her chest and her eyes shut tight, becoming no more than dark fringe, really, as she stumbled backward a step. She looked like she expected the apologetic bumper to ball up a fist and punch her in the head. No whammy, no whammy, no whammy... oh. Her eyes fluttered back open to reveal a blur of color that most people call hazel. Apologies. Apologies instead of the unsolicited onslaught of a stranger's energy. No whammy. Those gloves were already one for one. His -- whoever he was -- apologies were met with half a hesitant smile, and a hasty reach for the door. It was unlocked. Perhaps he'd mistaken Joe's for closed; after all, the lights had been turned down for the evening's every Thursday kind of thing: an acoustic open mic. "This, uh..." American. Californian, if you want to be specific, but thoughtful, even careful in how she chose her words. "This is the nearest coffee shop." And she left the door open after she disappeared behind it completely. Andy seemed surprised.
[Jude] From across the street, and out of the halo of light cast by the street lamps ( like a creep ), someone almost stepped out of the protection of the mostly dark street to play white knight -- stopping himself just as there was no explosion, to put it lightly. Relaxing back into stalker mode, the watch he was on continued. He might have paid better attention to his surroundings, but after three days of waiting for the redhead to pop up in his sights, the only truth Jude Fein knew was he only had eyes for one Hannah Rose. He'd been none to pleased to find out she no longer resided at the university, and the shit at the desk didn't have a clue when it came to where he could find his sister. None to pleased a'tall. Resorting to stalking around the campus until he caught sight of her -- and twice he'd stopped other redheads of similar build. One had even smacked him. Right in the chest. None to pleased! But he wasn't mistaken now, not with this redhead, and the graceful way she moved. Two years apart wouldn't change that. Or the shimmer that took over her skin when the light hit it the right way if you knew where to look; the same way it did to his. Two years had been a long time though, for a boy to turn into a man -- only to find a boys nerves again. Which kept him cloaked in shadow, and across the street, even after the beacon of his blood disappeared into the coffee shop.
[Gabriel] "Oh... All righty then." He said as he caught her accent and smiled softly. Watching her go in, he'd felt like a dunce. "Should have checked the damned door, Gabe." He thought to himself. Seeing her alk in, he would walk in after she did. Seeing the stage and the open mic, he'd move to an empty table and sat down. Removing his leather jacket before he sat down, he'd place it on the back of his chair and sat down. When the waitress came to take his order, he would order an Irish Cream coffee and would look around the room as he took his cell phone out and placed it on the table.
[Hannah] Placing orders is for people who don't drink out of the same cup and sit in the same chair, looking out on the same tall, narrow window most nights out of the week. It used to be every night, but there were nights her attention was desired elsewhere, now, and she didn't always feel up to the train into South Bank, either. To be fair, she had a new same cup, now. Little red rosebuds on white. She still made a beeline for that ugly chair, though. It was out of the way. Hannah liked out of the way. She also liked very much in the way, but only in a lost-in-a-crowd type scenario. Either meant she was easily hidden, even if she remained in plain sight. From her vantage point, she could hear the music without having to be packed in with the rest of the gang like a sardine. Some airy soprano picked gentle notes out of an acoustic guitar and breathed the words to a Joni Mitchell song she'd loved, once. Bare feet, navy lace, slow dancing with a ghost in a hotel room in Durham, just after she'd been released from the makeshift hospital, there. His memory was beginning to become a ghost, too. All this time later, and here she was again trying to figure out whether or not she'd loved him so that she could figure out whether or not she loved another. Before a frizzy-haired shapeshifter had asked her about forever, she had been blissfully ignorant to its possibility. Finding words for how she felt about Nero had been unimportant. Now love and forever loomed over her like a stormcloud. And not the kind that reminded her of family.
[Gabriel] Spotting Hannah, he'd watch her move to that ugly chair and would watch her. It was nice to see another American in England. So when his Irish Cream came, he'd smile at the waitress and thanked her before moving to where Hannah was at. Looking at her, he'd speak. "Hey, what art of California you from?" HE asked as he looked at her and would glance around the room. HE was sorta new here and to find someone with an american accent was a bit lucky for him. "Mind if I sit down?" He asked her as he stood there looking at her.
[Jude] The cut of his stare followed Hannah on her trek from the counter to the chair she chose. Grateful all at once, that she stuck so close to the windows; letting him play voyeur that much longer without going inside to track her. Nerves or not, he couldn't just stand out here in the fuckin' cold all night. Heavy soles of black boots that had seen better days took him off the curb and across the street now; heedless of a car coming his way. It could slow for him, as Jude wasn't picking up the pace on his ambling gait. The man, tall and lean in his stature of hard muscles and tapered form, shoved hands into the pockets of his black miltiary style wool coat as he found the next curb and found himself in front of the window that Hannah had been looking out of just seconds before he stepped fully into view. She was distracted by soul patch in there though. Well shit. He stood there then, brooding face gone darker in light that there was always something pulling either one of them this way or that, and one big hand slipped from the pocket to drag through hair that couldn't decide what color brown it wanted to be, and had a tendency to flop this way and that, and stand up straight when his hand went through it, and it often did.
[Hannah] Taken aback by the bumper, again, and immediately on the defense was the ballerina. "How did you know that I was from California?" she asked. Quiet was the default volume of her voice; gentle was the default nature of it. Her shoulders squared against the back of her chair. She was alarmed, but she wasn't rude. "They aren't my chairs. Joe would probably say you could sit wherever you wanted to."
[Gabriel] "I spent a few months aboard there when I first I arrived from England." He said as he nodded to the answer about him sitting there. Grabbing his coffee and jacket, he'd place the jacket on the back of the chair once more and sat down and took a dirnk of his coffee. "Right, Gabriel Thistlewaite and you are?" He asked as he looked at her and then looked glanced around once more as he sat back in his chair to get comfortable.
[Hannah] "You must be very good with language if you can pick California out of all fifty states," Hannah offered, playing awkwardly social robot if only because it would have been rude not to, and as mentioned in my last post, Hannah isn't rude. At least not intentionally. Shadows moved in her window, pulling her attention back that way as though she never ignored a flicker of light or a slither of dark. She didn't. There was too much to be wary of in both. Poor Gabriel Thistlewaite. Her facial expression began to shift; evolve. It would probably confuse the Hell out of him. First, another round of startled. Then consternation; was she finally losing it? The silhouette in her window, it was too tall, too broad in the shoulder, but the way it stood. The way it pulled at caramels and chocolates that wouldn't ever stay put except in one very particular floppy flop; why, it almost... no. No. Wait, was it... staring at her? Blank. Blanker than a brand new sheet of copy paper, first out of the ream, and just as pale. She stared back; so distant, so cold.
[Jude] From out of the hair, and into the air, his hand sat suspended just above his shoulder when Hannah finally noticed him. Seemed frozen there, the man; staring back with a bit less blank on his face than what was reflected in hers. The left side muscle of his jaw ticked in a clench, and a breath hitched into the broad scape of his chest; well hidden by wool, and the sweater beneath it. Then his hand moved, just a skosh of movement in a tilt to the side that made up a wave, and Jude waited.
[Gabriel] So hearing her response, he'd shrug as he spoke. "I just have a knack of picking up on things." He told her. Watching her, he'd study her and would glance back to the window before looking to her. Seeing her facial expression change, he'd studied her a few more seconds. He knew she wasn't rude and as for the silence? It was expected from her. The younger looking woman did have Gabe's curiousity up.
[Hannah] "Excuse me," Hannah exhaled at Gabriel, and her player just realized that she'd never given him her name, but that was probably truer to her character than anything I could have written for her. She doesn't latch on to new people easily. Most just kind of float through her life without ever stopping to really see her. Aside from that... there's a shadow outside that she hasn't seen in two years. Her facial expression never changed, but as that little wave cut through her suspended belief, her eyes blazed, her cheeks reddened with what could have been any number of emotions. Up. She was up and just plain gone with all the speed and grace of everything she was, leaving her coffee on the table next to Gabriel and nothing but the jingle of the bell tied to the front door in her wake, and the next time she appeared was as a flash of red on the other side of the windows... throwing the back of her hand into that shadow's chest without reservation, hissing "Have you lost your Goddamned mind, Jude?!" without thought as to her usual mildness. "You can't be here!" Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "You can't fucking be here!"
[Gabriel] "Okay." He said as he looked at her and watched her leave. Sighing, he'd pull out his phone and check his messages and emails as he waited for her to come back to the table. He moved his fingers up and down on the table as he tapped them against the table. Putting his phone down, he'd had his nose into it he didnt hear the belll ring on the front door to notice she had left. Though when the flash of red appeared, he looked out the window to see what that was as he looked around the area and checked the time. Seeing she wouldn't be coming back anytime, he'd sit there drinking his coffee.
[Jude] The shadow didn't move, other than to turn himself in the right direction to watch the trek she made from her god awfully ugly chair, and then out of the coffee shop full speed ahead. He was prepared for anything -- to catch, to twirl, but not entirely prepared to get hit. Even if it didn't hurt much. He was totally Gaston, ps. He played the part so well though, letting his shoulders hunch as if she'd done some damage; even bringing a hand up to rub at it while one eye squinted at the way volume of her voice. "Oh. Okay. Bye then." A shrug, and Jude made a pivot on his heel and took steps in the opposite direction of where his sister's tears were glinting from the lights inside the shop. Two steps. Only two. Because he found he couldn't even play that game like he had the first, and wimped out on it. Turned around, and his long arm span shot out and caught her shoulder and those two steps were closed in the process of hauling her into the ever-warmth of his arms.
[Hannah] There was no hurt in her when he'd turned to go. You'd think there would have been, but there wasn't. Her hiss went silent and her stonewall crumbled, giving way to the softness of relief. Yes. Good. Go. Go away -- far, far away, Jude, where no one will ever connect us both. Where you'll be safe. They know I'm here. It was short-lived, however. Just two steps worth of a lifespan for that relief, and then she was being dragged into an embrace that she hoped she'd never feel again, for his sake. That was the way Gideon had told them it had to be. With the side of her face buried in his sweatered chest, she wrapped frightened arms around her brother. Her fingers curled desperately into sweater and the muscle underneath, grasping, clawing like a child who doesn't want to be left alone on her first day of pre-school. "You're an idiot," she sniffled. Usually, when a person writes 'sniffled,' you think of the cutest little sniffle you can imagine, but I want you to think big, here. Think inhaled sob. "You're and idiot and I hate you." When she pushed away, it was only to glare up into eyes too like hers. "Why did you come? You know what he said. Why did you come?"
[Jude] "Hey, hey," the baritone of his voice dropped to a whisper that he tilted againt the flame of her hair. "It's okay, Obi-Han," he followed up, and shifted a little to wrap his open coat about her so she could really get at the hug she threw around him. Plus, it was warmer in there, and stupid cold out. Never once did Jude correct her when he was called an idiot, or even when she turned her affection towards him into hate, but she'd find him shaking his head slowly when she rose her face up to glare. Wide palms settled on either side of her lovely face, thumbs swiping at the tears that gathered there, and long fingers splaying themselves within the coolness of fiery hair. A move he might have made once when they were kids, pretending he was gonna pop her head like a little cherry tomato when she got too annoying, but now he just did it because he wanted to and it felt far too damn good to not get assailed by someone elses feelings and having to work to keep them at bay. "Because I can't keep following the orders of a dead man," he said it quietly; like-eyes searching hers. "I missed you, stupid." A strong arm
hooked about her neck then, and hauled her back in and over the top of her head, he'd glance up into the shop and into the dark eyes of the girl taking a nosy peek at what was going on outside. Just a lift of his brow at her, and his attention drew back down to Hannah. "We're not kids anymore. Stronger together, than we'll ever be apart. And you won't tell me other wise." A pause. "Stupid."
[Hannah] At least she paused to take in the enormity of Jude's first answer to her question before she pulled a hand free of her clutch at him, balled it into a fist and jabbed at his shoulder. Yes, from underneath his coat, she did! "I'm not stupid," Hannah countered. "You're an idiot. And I'll tell you what ever I want to tell you, idiot." There wasn't a lick of anything in her that trusted this. Not a lick. This was a terrible, terrible idea. Gideon was smart. He knew things he shouldn't have known before he shouldn't have known them. He put pieces together like Reese's. These were not his instructions. But maybe, and Hannah hadn't yet considered this... she probably wouldn't, not for quite a while. But maybe, maybe he knew that Jude would buck his instructions, eventually. Maybe Jude was supposed to be there. I missed you, too. She wouldn't say it aloud. Her secrets were hers and hers alone, assuming that neither Nero nor Jude put hands on her and forced a connection. It was written in the dimple on the right side of her face, instead. "How long have you been in the city? Where are you staying?"
[Jude] Maybe, even, and open your mind to this, Jude had gotten some different instructions, that came after the instructions that both he and Hannah were given together. "Listen here, stupid," if she was going to insist on calling him an idiot over and over again, well, eye for an eye there, little sister. "I'll do whatever my idiot ass wants regardless of what your stupid face tells it to do." It was all good natured. Look at the way he actually cracked a smile now, a wide one that was amused and bashful all at the same time and slightly dimpled the cheeks beneath a few days worth of scruff that also couldn't quite decide what shade of brown it wanted to be. He rubbed at his shoulder some, where she'd hit a little harder than she had on his chest. "It's time, Han," he reiterated, and that was mostly because he believed it, in the deepest parts of him, and he was a stubborn asshole. "Three days. Why the hell aren't you living where you're supposed to be living? Oh yeah, and that's three days of stalking this campus looking for you. Tell me you did not drop out." The question about where he was staying, went ignored. In fact, he even shrugged in a nunyabizness sort of way.
[Hannah] Holy shit, it's like Feinception in here. Hannah wrinkled up her nose and mimicked Jude. "I'll do whatever my idiot ass wants to do," she wah-wahed. She'd learned to fight, in his absence, by the way. Not the wimpy girl slap fighting he and Gideon used to bait her into, to make her feel tough, either. Maybe he'd find that out and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd find out a lot of things and maybe he wouldn't. Her sparkle softened, again, with Jude's reiteration. He was probably wrong, and they were probably both going to die, but his gentle assertion was nice to hear anyhow. Then her eyes flew open wide. "Oh! I moved! Just, uh... just about three weeks ago, I guess. No, I didn't drop out. I love my program, I only have two years left, and then I can start auditioning for companies, and..." That could have gone on forever. Instead, she lifted an eyebrow at his shrug. "Jude, where are you staying?"
[Jude] Make fun all ya want, it phased the man none. In fact, he just stone faced stared at her a little, until she was done, and blew it off like it'd never happened. Brat. "Moved? Got a roommate off campus or something?" The question brought a brow to raise, one that rose even higher when she didn't take his shrug for an answer. So, what was a guy to do? His hands slid down, and rested to her shoulders, and he dipped his head a little. Because he's also Flynn Ryder bitches, and a lady is a lady. No lady can resist the smolder. "Happy birthday, Obi-Han. Did you get my letter?" Distract, distract!
SUMMARY: One of Hannah's frequent trips to Joe's begins with a socially awkward introduction to Gabriel, who is sadly left in the dust once she recognizes a shadow waving to her from the other side of the window she normally sits in front of.
TW: none
[Hannah] She'd turned her head to watch Beth storm past her on the sidewalk, and before she could find her way through long, loose cooper waves that the wind had kicked up around her face so that she could turn her head back, Tucker followed. Oh! She'd been meaning to...! No, not just then. Something sour, like the feeling that sucks the back of your throat closed just before you give in and cry, hit her like a tidal wave as the pair's energy crashed onto her proverbial shore. No, not just then. Definitely not just then. No half-smile, no curl of sensible fingers in greeting for either; she just pulled at the edges of a grey cardigan that was much too big for her, wrapping, hiding, protecting herself against elements most never worried about... and minded her own business. She'd been doing that a lot, recently, the minding her own business bit. Her own turmoil, her own blue-purple-black whirl of nothing she properly understood and everything she was most afraid of demanded a toll that had to be paid before she paid anyone else's tolls for them. Out. Out of the manor, out of Wimbledon, she'd fled for the evening, seeking comfort. Seeking Nothing Special. Wool gloves kept her weapons under wraps; a thoughtful gift. Hannah reached into the front pocket of dark denim skinnies that ended in black ballet flats and fished for cash as she stepped onto the welcome mat that said 'go away.'
[Gabriel] Seeing that Joes had closed when he got there, Gabe would furrow his brows as he sighed. So with his hands in his leather jacket pockets, he'd pull out his cell phone to find the nearest coffee shop. Waiting for the results to come he'd, move away from the door and would accidently bump into Hannah. "Oh Im sorry..." He said when he looked at who he'd bump into. Seeing it was a woman, he'd speak. "My appologies." He said as he put his phone away. The older man of near 40 would speak once more as he had a touch of an American accent to him, having spent the last five years or in America. "I was just looking for the nearest coffee shop." He said smiling some. His face was smooth except for a small black soul patch and a black mustache. Looking around, he felt like such a tourist that he felt a little warm in his face.
[Hannah] Bumping. Bumping always startles the fair-faced little empath. Hannah's breath caught in her chest and her eyes shut tight, becoming no more than dark fringe, really, as she stumbled backward a step. She looked like she expected the apologetic bumper to ball up a fist and punch her in the head. No whammy, no whammy, no whammy... oh. Her eyes fluttered back open to reveal a blur of color that most people call hazel. Apologies. Apologies instead of the unsolicited onslaught of a stranger's energy. No whammy. Those gloves were already one for one. His -- whoever he was -- apologies were met with half a hesitant smile, and a hasty reach for the door. It was unlocked. Perhaps he'd mistaken Joe's for closed; after all, the lights had been turned down for the evening's every Thursday kind of thing: an acoustic open mic. "This, uh..." American. Californian, if you want to be specific, but thoughtful, even careful in how she chose her words. "This is the nearest coffee shop." And she left the door open after she disappeared behind it completely. Andy seemed surprised.
[Jude] From across the street, and out of the halo of light cast by the street lamps ( like a creep ), someone almost stepped out of the protection of the mostly dark street to play white knight -- stopping himself just as there was no explosion, to put it lightly. Relaxing back into stalker mode, the watch he was on continued. He might have paid better attention to his surroundings, but after three days of waiting for the redhead to pop up in his sights, the only truth Jude Fein knew was he only had eyes for one Hannah Rose. He'd been none to pleased to find out she no longer resided at the university, and the shit at the desk didn't have a clue when it came to where he could find his sister. None to pleased a'tall. Resorting to stalking around the campus until he caught sight of her -- and twice he'd stopped other redheads of similar build. One had even smacked him. Right in the chest. None to pleased! But he wasn't mistaken now, not with this redhead, and the graceful way she moved. Two years apart wouldn't change that. Or the shimmer that took over her skin when the light hit it the right way if you knew where to look; the same way it did to his. Two years had been a long time though, for a boy to turn into a man -- only to find a boys nerves again. Which kept him cloaked in shadow, and across the street, even after the beacon of his blood disappeared into the coffee shop.
[Gabriel] "Oh... All righty then." He said as he caught her accent and smiled softly. Watching her go in, he'd felt like a dunce. "Should have checked the damned door, Gabe." He thought to himself. Seeing her alk in, he would walk in after she did. Seeing the stage and the open mic, he'd move to an empty table and sat down. Removing his leather jacket before he sat down, he'd place it on the back of his chair and sat down. When the waitress came to take his order, he would order an Irish Cream coffee and would look around the room as he took his cell phone out and placed it on the table.
[Hannah] Placing orders is for people who don't drink out of the same cup and sit in the same chair, looking out on the same tall, narrow window most nights out of the week. It used to be every night, but there were nights her attention was desired elsewhere, now, and she didn't always feel up to the train into South Bank, either. To be fair, she had a new same cup, now. Little red rosebuds on white. She still made a beeline for that ugly chair, though. It was out of the way. Hannah liked out of the way. She also liked very much in the way, but only in a lost-in-a-crowd type scenario. Either meant she was easily hidden, even if she remained in plain sight. From her vantage point, she could hear the music without having to be packed in with the rest of the gang like a sardine. Some airy soprano picked gentle notes out of an acoustic guitar and breathed the words to a Joni Mitchell song she'd loved, once. Bare feet, navy lace, slow dancing with a ghost in a hotel room in Durham, just after she'd been released from the makeshift hospital, there. His memory was beginning to become a ghost, too. All this time later, and here she was again trying to figure out whether or not she'd loved him so that she could figure out whether or not she loved another. Before a frizzy-haired shapeshifter had asked her about forever, she had been blissfully ignorant to its possibility. Finding words for how she felt about Nero had been unimportant. Now love and forever loomed over her like a stormcloud. And not the kind that reminded her of family.
[Gabriel] Spotting Hannah, he'd watch her move to that ugly chair and would watch her. It was nice to see another American in England. So when his Irish Cream came, he'd smile at the waitress and thanked her before moving to where Hannah was at. Looking at her, he'd speak. "Hey, what art of California you from?" HE asked as he looked at her and would glance around the room. HE was sorta new here and to find someone with an american accent was a bit lucky for him. "Mind if I sit down?" He asked her as he stood there looking at her.
[Jude] The cut of his stare followed Hannah on her trek from the counter to the chair she chose. Grateful all at once, that she stuck so close to the windows; letting him play voyeur that much longer without going inside to track her. Nerves or not, he couldn't just stand out here in the fuckin' cold all night. Heavy soles of black boots that had seen better days took him off the curb and across the street now; heedless of a car coming his way. It could slow for him, as Jude wasn't picking up the pace on his ambling gait. The man, tall and lean in his stature of hard muscles and tapered form, shoved hands into the pockets of his black miltiary style wool coat as he found the next curb and found himself in front of the window that Hannah had been looking out of just seconds before he stepped fully into view. She was distracted by soul patch in there though. Well shit. He stood there then, brooding face gone darker in light that there was always something pulling either one of them this way or that, and one big hand slipped from the pocket to drag through hair that couldn't decide what color brown it wanted to be, and had a tendency to flop this way and that, and stand up straight when his hand went through it, and it often did.
[Hannah] Taken aback by the bumper, again, and immediately on the defense was the ballerina. "How did you know that I was from California?" she asked. Quiet was the default volume of her voice; gentle was the default nature of it. Her shoulders squared against the back of her chair. She was alarmed, but she wasn't rude. "They aren't my chairs. Joe would probably say you could sit wherever you wanted to."
[Gabriel] "I spent a few months aboard there when I first I arrived from England." He said as he nodded to the answer about him sitting there. Grabbing his coffee and jacket, he'd place the jacket on the back of the chair once more and sat down and took a dirnk of his coffee. "Right, Gabriel Thistlewaite and you are?" He asked as he looked at her and then looked glanced around once more as he sat back in his chair to get comfortable.
[Hannah] "You must be very good with language if you can pick California out of all fifty states," Hannah offered, playing awkwardly social robot if only because it would have been rude not to, and as mentioned in my last post, Hannah isn't rude. At least not intentionally. Shadows moved in her window, pulling her attention back that way as though she never ignored a flicker of light or a slither of dark. She didn't. There was too much to be wary of in both. Poor Gabriel Thistlewaite. Her facial expression began to shift; evolve. It would probably confuse the Hell out of him. First, another round of startled. Then consternation; was she finally losing it? The silhouette in her window, it was too tall, too broad in the shoulder, but the way it stood. The way it pulled at caramels and chocolates that wouldn't ever stay put except in one very particular floppy flop; why, it almost... no. No. Wait, was it... staring at her? Blank. Blanker than a brand new sheet of copy paper, first out of the ream, and just as pale. She stared back; so distant, so cold.
[Jude] From out of the hair, and into the air, his hand sat suspended just above his shoulder when Hannah finally noticed him. Seemed frozen there, the man; staring back with a bit less blank on his face than what was reflected in hers. The left side muscle of his jaw ticked in a clench, and a breath hitched into the broad scape of his chest; well hidden by wool, and the sweater beneath it. Then his hand moved, just a skosh of movement in a tilt to the side that made up a wave, and Jude waited.
[Gabriel] So hearing her response, he'd shrug as he spoke. "I just have a knack of picking up on things." He told her. Watching her, he'd study her and would glance back to the window before looking to her. Seeing her facial expression change, he'd studied her a few more seconds. He knew she wasn't rude and as for the silence? It was expected from her. The younger looking woman did have Gabe's curiousity up.
[Hannah] "Excuse me," Hannah exhaled at Gabriel, and her player just realized that she'd never given him her name, but that was probably truer to her character than anything I could have written for her. She doesn't latch on to new people easily. Most just kind of float through her life without ever stopping to really see her. Aside from that... there's a shadow outside that she hasn't seen in two years. Her facial expression never changed, but as that little wave cut through her suspended belief, her eyes blazed, her cheeks reddened with what could have been any number of emotions. Up. She was up and just plain gone with all the speed and grace of everything she was, leaving her coffee on the table next to Gabriel and nothing but the jingle of the bell tied to the front door in her wake, and the next time she appeared was as a flash of red on the other side of the windows... throwing the back of her hand into that shadow's chest without reservation, hissing "Have you lost your Goddamned mind, Jude?!" without thought as to her usual mildness. "You can't be here!" Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "You can't fucking be here!"
[Gabriel] "Okay." He said as he looked at her and watched her leave. Sighing, he'd pull out his phone and check his messages and emails as he waited for her to come back to the table. He moved his fingers up and down on the table as he tapped them against the table. Putting his phone down, he'd had his nose into it he didnt hear the belll ring on the front door to notice she had left. Though when the flash of red appeared, he looked out the window to see what that was as he looked around the area and checked the time. Seeing she wouldn't be coming back anytime, he'd sit there drinking his coffee.
[Jude] The shadow didn't move, other than to turn himself in the right direction to watch the trek she made from her god awfully ugly chair, and then out of the coffee shop full speed ahead. He was prepared for anything -- to catch, to twirl, but not entirely prepared to get hit. Even if it didn't hurt much. He was totally Gaston, ps. He played the part so well though, letting his shoulders hunch as if she'd done some damage; even bringing a hand up to rub at it while one eye squinted at the way volume of her voice. "Oh. Okay. Bye then." A shrug, and Jude made a pivot on his heel and took steps in the opposite direction of where his sister's tears were glinting from the lights inside the shop. Two steps. Only two. Because he found he couldn't even play that game like he had the first, and wimped out on it. Turned around, and his long arm span shot out and caught her shoulder and those two steps were closed in the process of hauling her into the ever-warmth of his arms.
[Hannah] There was no hurt in her when he'd turned to go. You'd think there would have been, but there wasn't. Her hiss went silent and her stonewall crumbled, giving way to the softness of relief. Yes. Good. Go. Go away -- far, far away, Jude, where no one will ever connect us both. Where you'll be safe. They know I'm here. It was short-lived, however. Just two steps worth of a lifespan for that relief, and then she was being dragged into an embrace that she hoped she'd never feel again, for his sake. That was the way Gideon had told them it had to be. With the side of her face buried in his sweatered chest, she wrapped frightened arms around her brother. Her fingers curled desperately into sweater and the muscle underneath, grasping, clawing like a child who doesn't want to be left alone on her first day of pre-school. "You're an idiot," she sniffled. Usually, when a person writes 'sniffled,' you think of the cutest little sniffle you can imagine, but I want you to think big, here. Think inhaled sob. "You're and idiot and I hate you." When she pushed away, it was only to glare up into eyes too like hers. "Why did you come? You know what he said. Why did you come?"
[Jude] "Hey, hey," the baritone of his voice dropped to a whisper that he tilted againt the flame of her hair. "It's okay, Obi-Han," he followed up, and shifted a little to wrap his open coat about her so she could really get at the hug she threw around him. Plus, it was warmer in there, and stupid cold out. Never once did Jude correct her when he was called an idiot, or even when she turned her affection towards him into hate, but she'd find him shaking his head slowly when she rose her face up to glare. Wide palms settled on either side of her lovely face, thumbs swiping at the tears that gathered there, and long fingers splaying themselves within the coolness of fiery hair. A move he might have made once when they were kids, pretending he was gonna pop her head like a little cherry tomato when she got too annoying, but now he just did it because he wanted to and it felt far too damn good to not get assailed by someone elses feelings and having to work to keep them at bay. "Because I can't keep following the orders of a dead man," he said it quietly; like-eyes searching hers. "I missed you, stupid." A strong arm
hooked about her neck then, and hauled her back in and over the top of her head, he'd glance up into the shop and into the dark eyes of the girl taking a nosy peek at what was going on outside. Just a lift of his brow at her, and his attention drew back down to Hannah. "We're not kids anymore. Stronger together, than we'll ever be apart. And you won't tell me other wise." A pause. "Stupid."
[Hannah] At least she paused to take in the enormity of Jude's first answer to her question before she pulled a hand free of her clutch at him, balled it into a fist and jabbed at his shoulder. Yes, from underneath his coat, she did! "I'm not stupid," Hannah countered. "You're an idiot. And I'll tell you what ever I want to tell you, idiot." There wasn't a lick of anything in her that trusted this. Not a lick. This was a terrible, terrible idea. Gideon was smart. He knew things he shouldn't have known before he shouldn't have known them. He put pieces together like Reese's. These were not his instructions. But maybe, and Hannah hadn't yet considered this... she probably wouldn't, not for quite a while. But maybe, maybe he knew that Jude would buck his instructions, eventually. Maybe Jude was supposed to be there. I missed you, too. She wouldn't say it aloud. Her secrets were hers and hers alone, assuming that neither Nero nor Jude put hands on her and forced a connection. It was written in the dimple on the right side of her face, instead. "How long have you been in the city? Where are you staying?"
[Jude] Maybe, even, and open your mind to this, Jude had gotten some different instructions, that came after the instructions that both he and Hannah were given together. "Listen here, stupid," if she was going to insist on calling him an idiot over and over again, well, eye for an eye there, little sister. "I'll do whatever my idiot ass wants regardless of what your stupid face tells it to do." It was all good natured. Look at the way he actually cracked a smile now, a wide one that was amused and bashful all at the same time and slightly dimpled the cheeks beneath a few days worth of scruff that also couldn't quite decide what shade of brown it wanted to be. He rubbed at his shoulder some, where she'd hit a little harder than she had on his chest. "It's time, Han," he reiterated, and that was mostly because he believed it, in the deepest parts of him, and he was a stubborn asshole. "Three days. Why the hell aren't you living where you're supposed to be living? Oh yeah, and that's three days of stalking this campus looking for you. Tell me you did not drop out." The question about where he was staying, went ignored. In fact, he even shrugged in a nunyabizness sort of way.
[Hannah] Holy shit, it's like Feinception in here. Hannah wrinkled up her nose and mimicked Jude. "I'll do whatever my idiot ass wants to do," she wah-wahed. She'd learned to fight, in his absence, by the way. Not the wimpy girl slap fighting he and Gideon used to bait her into, to make her feel tough, either. Maybe he'd find that out and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd find out a lot of things and maybe he wouldn't. Her sparkle softened, again, with Jude's reiteration. He was probably wrong, and they were probably both going to die, but his gentle assertion was nice to hear anyhow. Then her eyes flew open wide. "Oh! I moved! Just, uh... just about three weeks ago, I guess. No, I didn't drop out. I love my program, I only have two years left, and then I can start auditioning for companies, and..." That could have gone on forever. Instead, she lifted an eyebrow at his shrug. "Jude, where are you staying?"
[Jude] Make fun all ya want, it phased the man none. In fact, he just stone faced stared at her a little, until she was done, and blew it off like it'd never happened. Brat. "Moved? Got a roommate off campus or something?" The question brought a brow to raise, one that rose even higher when she didn't take his shrug for an answer. So, what was a guy to do? His hands slid down, and rested to her shoulders, and he dipped his head a little. Because he's also Flynn Ryder bitches, and a lady is a lady. No lady can resist the smolder. "Happy birthday, Obi-Han. Did you get my letter?" Distract, distract!