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Post by Henley on Nov 17, 2021 15:06:01 GMT -8
Overlooking a beautiful pool area, the outdoor table selected by Henley at Mr. Chow overlooked a beautiful pool. The Beijing-inspired restaurant was picturesque, a place known for its handmade noodles and melt-in-your-mouth Peking duck. A champagne cart moved about, its driver providing beverages at will, and fine cigars were on offer and being smoked all around. Outdoors and spacious, it was a fine place for a casual meeting. Henley had them in a table far enough away from others that they weren't likely to be overheard, preferring enough distance to allow for them to speak more freely. A thick cigar waited on the table in front of him, uncut and ready. He lazily rolled a champagne flute between long, slender fingers as he waited for Wayland and Gavin to arrive.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Nov 18, 2021 13:17:09 GMT -8
The location was a lot more swanky than Gavin was accustomed to. He looked out of place in his rugged jean wear and simple black tee. That was the usual case for the Beast though when outside the great outdoors or a seedy bar. The subtle eyeing down he got from the host had a tone to it until Gavin pressed through by indicating business with the right name drop.
Coming to the table, "Well this is the right part of town, isn't it?"
Henley made a welcoming gesture toward a seat. Gavin settled in and took in the ambiance while assessing the potential audience for sensitive topics that might be discussed. It seemed cloistered enough to his thinking, but paused to take care should additional guests find their way to seats nearby.
He was cautiously optimistic about the whole affair. This was the first time someone had reached out to him directly. It was always a Knight or other Court officer wanting him to join some bit of work or other for the greater good, which he usually obliged.
"This your usual sort, or a special occasion?"
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Post by Wayland on Nov 18, 2021 16:01:17 GMT -8
Wayland looks like hammered shit. She's got a bit of a shiner, a split lip, scratches on her knuckles, a cut above one eye . Oh yeah, no doubt about it; she's been in a fight. She's been doctor'd up a bit, but it doesn't look more than a day or two old. Her eyes are mostly hidden behind her sunglasses, but under them, she looks tired. Fried, even. She's getting looks from the staff and guests. Not that anybody's commenting, it's not their business. Except for when she stopped in the lady's room on the way up here, when someone gave her a knowing look at her reflection in the mirror. "Whoever's doing this? Leave 'em." That's all they said. That's all anybody really can say in that situation. It's none of their business.
Not that Wayland doesn't already know that. She's said it plenty of times herself. This time though, they're wrong. They're wrong about how she got hurt.
(But then, isn't that what every abuse victim says to themselves?)
She doesn't stand on ceremony when she finds Henley and Gavin. Just shrugs out of her punky leather jacket, drapes it across the back of her chair, and plops herself bonelessly down into it. She doesn't speak, either. Not yet, anyway. Henley called this meeting, so she lets him open it, slumping into her seat with exhaustion and watching him behind black, tinted lenses.
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Post by Henley on Nov 19, 2021 14:35:46 GMT -8
"Not usual. I try to eat a lot more salad than this. Good to see you."
He knew what Gavin was really saying, but giving a gift wasn't about his ego and he didn't mind shuffling on past it. He called the meeting, he wanted the locale, he footed the bill. Simple as that.
The other Ogre showed up. She looked like tenderized shit.
"Jeeesus, Wayland, are you okay?" the Nymph coughed, a concerned, tight look crossing his narrow face. "Have you been re-enacting Tyson versus Holyfield or something?"
He was pretty sure she had two ears still? Maybe? Summer Court rolled hard.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Nov 23, 2021 12:42:17 GMT -8
"Broadening horizons and a bit of variety, then." He returned with a layered answer and a smile.
Wayland's rough shape had broken through the Beast's enraptured state of visual overload from the environment after some time. "Yeah, did you do something with your hair?" The common courtesy of noticing a woman's change of appearance was well ingrained in Gavin. He gestured more broadly though with a wide-eyed half smile, half concerned expression. His tone was joking, but the concern was sincere.
It left Wayland a way out, if she wanted it, and showed the empathy he was feeling.
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Post by Wayland on Nov 24, 2021 13:53:41 GMT -8
The Maker's attention slides from Henley to Gavin, only really detectable behind her sunglasses by the tilt of her head. Her expression remains closed, weary, and unamused. If she were in better shape, a better mood, she might have something constructive to say in response to these inquiries. A joke or an explanation. But socializing has always meant work for her, using up energy. Usually worth spending, but she doesn't have much to spare right now.
The angle of her face slides back to Henley. "You have a proposition," she repeats/paraphrases his letter back to him. Her tone suggesting that any prior subject they may have broached is no longer up for discussion."
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Post by Henley on Nov 25, 2021 13:51:18 GMT -8
Jokes were slid past, and Henley took the cue that that wasn't the moment for them. She had asked for business to be proceeded to.
"Yes, very good. Down to business, then. The gist? I want to offer you my most sincere thanks for the work you did with Mr. Graves here to re-open the road to Market," he said, flashing her a genuine smile. "You did us all a huge service, and I wanted you to know that as a merchant, you've made my life a lot easier. I'd like to do something similar for you in the future."
A long finger traced to each of them, continuing to speak in code to avoid freaking out the mundies.
"We're all outdoorsy folks of a different sort. Broker. Crafter. Guide. I had thought that perhaps we might find common purpose for business. Perhaps even a close association. It seemed something worth a discussion about first steps."
A business motley was potentially on the table.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Nov 25, 2021 18:34:07 GMT -8
Barely warranting a look from her, Gavin sank and returned the energy toward Wayland with as flat an expression as her apparent mood, silently wondering why she even came out. The one time anyone invites him out for something other than work or an experiment and she crushes sour grapes over the night from moment one.
Nate turning the conversation immediately toward business, after that, left Gavin glad he was only cautiously optimistic about the evening. Higher hopes and he would have been hurt, again. This was now just more of the usual.
Who wants to know the monster that goes bump in the night? The vicious self defeating question that always played in his head at each turn. He was always the danger. He was sometimes the nerd. He was rarely just a person. He was never the friend. Why would tonight be any different?
Perhaps a springboard for the future, he decided, jamming a toe in the door of hope before it slammed completely shut.
"Right, business," a half dejected tone shadowed the words, despite his best efforts. "There do seem to be some overlapping themes there, yeah. I see what you're on about."
He bangs his hand on the table once, a little jarringly, and with a put on smile "We should do appies!" It was an attempt to glide passed his own emotional moment and hit the very worn internal reset button.
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Post by Wayland on Nov 27, 2021 18:42:24 GMT -8
"... you've made my life a lot easier..." Something in the pit of Wayland's stomach curls up and dies at these words, and she wants to join it. Sure, she's made his life a lot easier. And she'll make it a lot harder if she's not careful. And there's nothing she can say about it. It's her fault, her mistake, and she wants to own up to it. And she can't. She can't say anything. Not even promise him that she'll fix it, that she'll find some way to fix it. That's why she let herself get beaten up yesterday. She went looking for a fight, and her comrades in the SCA are as ready as ever to provide. Even wearing a helmet, even with a blunted weapon, a halberd swung by a mild-mannered CPA with forty pounds and ten years of HEMA experience on her can leave a mark. She shifts in her seat, the stings and aches that shoot through her from her bruises distracting her from her more emotional agonies. For a moment, the gaze behind her sunglasses seems directed at nothing in particular. Then she blinks, brows coming together slightly as her attention slides back towards and centers on Gavin. "Appies?" She asks, confusion in her expression and voice.
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Post by Henley on Nov 30, 2021 13:58:27 GMT -8
Henley's mind processed the emotions and facial cues, the dejected tone and the gazing off into the void...
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Post by Gavin Graves on Nov 30, 2021 14:32:25 GMT -8
"Yeah," The Beast seemed perplexed. "Your first time at a restaurant or did you get your block knocked off?" a redoubled attempt to restore his playful mood. "Appetizers!" he punctuated the declaration with as much Aussie accent as he could put on so as to not be taken overly seriously.
Henley could tell Gavin was having some struggles. The kind of trouble seemed to have acted as a weight carried around with him for some time. That the Beast had come in more hopeful and then quickly cut back, indicated he was missing something and whatever it was had became apparent it was probably not going to happen somewhere in the most recent exchange. Everything he had done since seemed to be in keeping himself from being too on display.
"I heard the eggrolls here are just beaut," the Beast continued to cover, slipping further into his Australian heritage reflexively as he tried to cope with his stress.
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Post by Wayland on Nov 30, 2021 21:38:44 GMT -8
It would be easy to look at Wayland and see nothing but frustration right now, and irritation, and exhaustion. Henley looks deeper and sees guilt. She’s doing a good job of hiding it, however subconsciously; her physical pain is almost as good a shield as her sunglasses. But behind those lenses, her eyes flee Henley when she feels his attention. Except for when she seems to make herself bear it, as if her discomfort is part of some penance she’s eager to pay. She wouldn’t admit it, but Wayland feels rotten about herself, and there are signs that something about Henley in particular might be making that feeling worse.
Not that Gavin’s ebullience is helping matters. Her brows come together and her lips turn downward in a scowl from behind her tinted lenses, as if suddenly disgusted with the world. But she rallies, trying not to take out her own wretched feelings on the Beast. She’s not entirely successful; “Food. Right,” she answers, her tone flat and joyless. “Not the ‘overlapping theme’ I was thinking of,” there we go, a tiny smidge of levity and she sounds a little less like a sulking, nihilistic teenager.
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Post by Henley on Dec 1, 2021 14:47:15 GMT -8
Henley mulled over his read. Gavin's hopes had been dashed - hopes for what, he'd figure out later - but the fact that Wayland was hating herself in this moment was odd. He could have written that off to whatever beating she'd clearly taken before coming here, but what twigged his spider sense is that something about him had to do with it.
But he and Wayland hadn't met. What could she possibly feel guilty about him for? He glanced at Gavin, then back to the Ogre, curious if Graves knew if anything was off. He reached out to place a hand on her forearm, not forcing it if she tried to avoid the contact, and asked her one simple question.
"Wayland? I'm sorry, this might seem like an odd question given that we just met, but... are we good?"
His eyebrows raised slightly, his face open if there was something he had missed.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Dec 1, 2021 16:01:29 GMT -8
Gavin was relieved for the attention to be back off him, giving him the moment to get his own vulnerability squared away. The friendly banter had seemingly missed its mark anyhow.
In the time of the developing examination of Wayland's mood by Henley, he had found a moment to get outside his own head. Paying attention to the back and forth while intermittently scanning a menu. The Beast looked for signs of what Henley was concerned about. Maybe it wasn't about the Razorhand and there was something Wayland might have known about the other Ogre.
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Post by Krakenbox on Dec 1, 2021 16:20:09 GMT -8
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