[LOG] 21.10.25 Tapestries

Diner(#177197RLJ)

It's a little bigger than a hole-in-the-wall and relatively cozy, all things considered, but it's clear this diner has been around a long time. A long wooden counter stretches along one wall with stove tops and cooking ranges set behind it. There's room for employees to move back there, but not much room for anything else. A cash register sits at one end of the counter. In the seating area, booths are all that's available, both along the wall and down the center of the establishment.

[ Obvious Exits: [S]treet ]

------------------------------

( It's fairly late in the evening, well past when most people would even be visiting a diner, but then again this is NY and folks run on a different schedule here. There's more customers than would be expected and it's not even due to a late night drunk crowd. Sitting in one of the more desolate booths is a dog by himself, quietly eating and ignoring the other people around him while he browses stuff on his phone. )

( The door jingles to announce the presence of a new body and a hyena-looking woman steps in. The dog in the back booth may recognize her, if he looks up, as the girl who treated him to coffee and pizza the other day. Tonight, she doesn't appear much different than she did before. Black clothes, combat boots. But she seems a little...grungier today, and as she approaches the counter, she tugs off the leather gloves on her hands. )

Brice seems to be busy replying to... something on his phone. Probably emails given how much he's typing. In front of him there's a plate of fries with half of a pastrami sandwich to one side. Even though he's not eating the food the pile of fries seems to be getting smaller over time. He does take a drink from the glass of iced tea he has, though.

Laur and the counter worker exchange some friendly words, bullshitting for a couple moments as she orders something. During this, she does a glance around the diner and, when she spots the dog from the other day, whistles in his direction.

Brice's ears perk up and somewhat flick in the direction of the whistle but, given how many times he's already been whistled to, yelled at, cursed out, and other types of "greetings" since he's arrived in the city he doesn't bother looking over.

Laur was trying to give him a heads up, but that's on him now because she just sides in on the other side of his booth and starts to shrug her jacket off. "Fancy meeting you here."

Brice wasn't expecting anyone, let alone the bike lover, to come rolling up into his booth. His fur ruffles up even as his expression doesn't change. Much. "Oh. It's you. Yeah, uh, this is near where I rented that temp place. I think I mentioned that to you." Whatever he's reading on his phone quickly gets swiped away. "...Laur, right?"

Laur nods to him as she lays her jacket on the seat next to her - inside the booth, not near the outside. "Yeah, Laur," she replies as she gives her upper body a back and forth stretch before rummaging for her phone. "You look like you've been surviving, at least." She taps her fingers on the table. There might be dried blood under her claws.

Brice' nose twitches once. Twice. He briefly looks uncomfortable but then turns his head to type a reply to something on his phone. "I'm pretty good at surviving." His phone buzzes on the table and he immediately replies, fingers angrily typing away as his brows ruffle.

Laur seems not at all fussed about his preoccupation with his phone. Her food, breaded and fried ravioli, shows up and she realizes she didn't get a drink and asks for one. "Good skill to have," she clicks her tongue, dipping a ravioli into some marinara. "You should do some touristy shit while the place is still fresh and shiny to you."

Brice pauses his typing and gives her that tired, I'm doing my best kind of smile. "I'm too busy working on finding a stable place to rent and a job. Not in that order." Oddly enough the fries on his plate are still vanishing at a slow but noticeable pace. "Tourist stuff is a waste of money anyhow."

Laur snorts, "Nah, there's some nice museums. Maybe get you a little culture or something," she's teasing. She doesn't notice the fries leaving, but she does reach to steal one.

Brice shakes his head. "I really have to find a place to rent that isn't someone's overpriced apartment." He looks a little nervous. When Laur reaches for some of the fries she's suddenly slapped on her hand by.... what the fuck /is/ that. At the same time the dog lets out a sharp BARK! and slams himself back against the bench seat.

Laur's hand stops in its tracks, hovering over the plate of fries. She does a look at the plate, at the dog, and back at the plate. She still takes a fry and then leans back in her seat. "What the fuck was that?" She is....maybe unsettlingly nonchalant about what just happened. Her voice isn't raised or concerned, the question is more like a casual inquiry. But the bark from the dog does cause some other patrons to look over.

Brice is clearly sweating. His fur's visibly damp and he looks spooked to hell and back. "I... I have to go," he stammers as he crawls out of the booth, leaving his food behind. Ignore the black tendril that snags one half of the sandwich before both disappear under his hoodie. He's probably out the door before she can say anything.

------------------------------

Street(#172604RLJ)

It's just an ordinary city street with cars and parking meters and sidewalks and stores. You can 'tport #learn' the teleport pattern here, if you wish to return.

[ Obvious Exits: [D]iner, [P]he's [B]rownstone, [S]hopping [A]rcade, [A]lley ]

------------------------------

Laur swings out the door yanking her jacket on, hot on his tail, "Wait wait wait!"

Brice is already half on his bike, panicked but doing his best to start it up, not even bothering to put his helmet on. He pointedly doesn't look in her direction.

Laur is, probably, one of the few who WOULDN'T freak out at this. She closes the space and puts herself in front of the bike, one leg on each side of the front tire, her hands on the inner part of the handlebars. She's moderately confident he wouldn't try running her over AND he'd have to back up a bit anyhow. "C'mon. Lemme see."

Brice looks incredibly nervous. Ears back, fur ruffled, but he's not baring his fangs. Surprisingly. ~Let her go. We don't want to eat her.~ Oh. What the FUCK is that. There's a moving blob of... what, talking to her. "I don't want to eat her either!" the dog barks, then.... oh. OH. Too late. He slams his helmet down onto his head so he doesn't have to look at her.

Laur agrees with her previous inquiry of 'what the fuck is that', but now in, like, a cool way. She looks between the inky....goo, then back up at Brice and is maybe trying not to laugh?? "Okay, uh, Maybe this introduction is better suited for........not the street."

Brice keeps his hands on his bike's grips, but doesn't move to start it up. He just visibly sighs. The blob, however, pops back up and grins. ~He is new to this city. He needs friends. If you are not a friend we will eat you.~

Laur laughs, "Yeah, I got that." Even without the disclosure from Brice the other day that he was New In Town, she could've sussed it out pretty quickly. "And, hey, we're friendly so far. You're the rude one, just lurking, no introductions." Is...is she giving the blob shit? Is that smart?

Brice dips his head down and finally kicks his bike to start up. He revs the engine a few times and is about to just peel out before a goopy tendril forms a head and a face and a far too toothy maw. ~We are not rude! We are trying to be safe!~ The dog whine-growls and starts to drive off but the bike won't move.

Laur tchs, "A /little/ rude. But your secret's safe with me." She steps back from the motorcycle. "I'm sure we'll run into each other again." Not a threat, more of a 'see you around' kind of comment, if he is going to take his leave. She's not gonna actually force him to continue the interaction. At least, not since they're visible in the street.

Brice cuts the bike off. A solid minute passes before he takes off his helmet. "I can't talk about this here." He sounds so very defeated. "But you saw. So. Where to."

Laur motions nearby, "There's a fine alley, perfect for all kinds of abnormal discussion." Which, yes, this does fall under. "My place isn't too far, as another option."

Brice remains on his bike and sighs. "Your place. Walking or riding?"

Laur chews her inner cheek a second, "That thing fit two?"

Brice sighs again. "It does." He can't lie, there's clearly enough room on the bike for two. There's even a spare helmet.

Laur does find his almost constant exasperation a little amusing, but it decent enough right now to not draw attention to it. "Excellent! I was out on foot tonight. This'll be faster." She points at his coat, however, before lowering her voice. "Do not rummage in my jacket. I am carrying brass knuckles and a switchblade," she says to the thing she ASSUMES can probably change shape and probably could pat her down while on the bike. She zips her jacket up and grabs the spare helmet to hop on behind Brice.

Brice looks like he clearly wants to die. He slams his helmet on, ears ignored, and muffledly asks for her address. ~We eat metal. You are NOT a th--~ "SHUT UP." He revs the bike up and, before she can reply, he's pulling a wheelie as he screeches down the street.