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Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 13, 2016 7:27:47 GMT
 Oricon Plaza is a pleasant enough refuge of metal and glass, skyscrapers towering overhead and dozens and dozens of little cafes and shops with outdoor patios dotting the ground levels. It doesn't feel like home, because nothing feels like home, but it's a nice place to sit down and get a coffee, to stretch out with a good book or a good friend, and it's close to the university.
The whole walk over with Professor Laurent, Thalia swallows past the taste of bile in her throat. She keeps a smile on her face the whole time, even as they stand in line for their coffee and the barista, smacking her gum loudly, raises an eyebrow when Thalia gives her her name for the drink order.
"Like the superhero?" she asks, wrinkling her nose. "Were you named after her?"
Thalia wonders how old these people think she is. Good lord. She's not even thirty yet.
eldritch
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and it's creeping its way through my windows and it's slithering under my door
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Jun 22, 2016 22:08:09 GMT
Post by eldritch on Jun 22, 2016 22:08:09 GMT
 “have you got that before?”
emi’s quirked brow matches the barista’s opposite as he watches thalia. his eye is taken off the café’s glass display case. off the habitual snap of gum behind the cashier. the crack of that – like listening someone to chew on rubber – is almost comforting and he’s easily able to return a smile to his student.
behind him, in the line, a man in a suit and on his phone shifts his weight back and fourth on his feet. emi doesn’t notice. his attention is back on what’s inside the display cabinet. what catches his eye the most is anything with icing. his finger his finger slowly against the glass. his nails are bitten and uneven.
“i can get it,” one hand reaches into the back-pocket of old jeans for his wallet but eldritch’s attention is hooked, “pick something else too. i’m gonna.”
VALKYRIE
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Jun 23, 2016 23:43:13 GMT
Post by VALKYRIE on Jun 23, 2016 23:43:13 GMT
"Once I got chewed out on Halloween by a fan who insisted my hair was the wrong shade of pink and I'd half-assed my costume," Thalia says. "If that counts."
The pastry counter would be appetizing at any other time, rows and rows of delicacies topped with glistening icing and sprinkles, but Thalia's stomach does a lazy backflip at the sight and she swallows down the impulse to gag.
"...I'm not very hungry," she say, clutching her latte in front of her like a shield. "But thank you."
She feels a little bad for letting him pay--she's pretty sure an A-rank superhero gets paid for than a professor--but arguing about money makes her uncomfortable and is tacky besides. She lets it go and finds them a nice pair of armchairs in the corner of the cafe. It's a good spot--her back is to the wall and she can survey the entire room even while talking to him. Three exits immediately jump out at her, as well as two more that she can make, and a handful of common objects that can become weapons.
Even the latte in her hand is a weapon. She can't feel the heat, but someone else will if she throws it in their face.
"Thank you for meeting with me," she says. "I'm sorry I missed last class. There was an incident with giant radioactive sewer ratpeople."
eldritch |
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