18407/Requiem for a Butter Creme Part Deux

Requiem for a Butter Creme Part Deux
Date of Scene:	23 June 2024
Location:	The meanstreets.
Synopsis:	The scene concludes with Peter Pan defeating hook, and the Lost Boys celebrate by dumping gatorade on him, which is really clever because of the whole captain hook aligator thing where a reptile ate his hand, which is why he has a hook now. If you think about it, with no real surgeons or access to medicine, he totally should have died from some kind of infection. I mean aligator mouths have to be pretty dirty, they eat carrion. Why wasn't this properly addressed, I guess they can always default to fairy magic for everything. Fucking Tinkerbell.
Cast of Characters:	Colin Wilkes, Aria Seraphine

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Colin Wilkes has posed:
A specific chain of events unfolds. Colin buys one of those two week old apple pie things in the green and white packages, he splits it with Aria. This is vital preparation for the game. The pie crust is sugary and waxy at the same time, the filling is gooey and sort of chewy at the same time. The pie is trying to communicate something to them, its saying "I expired about a week ago." and to that end, Colin finishes the last of his half by sucking on the end of one of his fingers, "I really got a sense of the terroir on this one. I think you can taste the recent heat dome."

Then the quarters needed to be laid out on the cigarette burned margins of the screen of the large game console, of course alternating heads and tails. This both enabled speedy insertion and prevented interloping players from cutting in on the action. The queue is full, you can clearly see the queue is full, come back later. Then he offered the Angel her choice of sides.

Aria Seraphine has posed:
It was hard for Aria not to be suspicious.

She didn't want to be. If this had happened shortly after her wings had been cut, she might have been stuck to Colin like glue, learning from him how to expect people to treat her, maybe how to develop some real skills and get a real job..

But five years ago, Colin wouldn't have been able to help her. He'd have been.. what? Thirteen years old? And she was just... Aria, like she was today. She'd been 'just Aria' since she Fell. And she'd be 'just Aria' forever.

Unfortunately, that meant there were five years of bad experiences built up. Five years of being tricked and exploited. Five years of some of the worst that humanity had offer.

So when Aria took half the pie, it was like she was waiting for something: 'I'll give you this if you...?' What? For a bit, that question mark just hovered in the air, and when it wasn't answered, she ate anyway. Because even though she couldn't die, she _could_ feel hunger pains. And sugar, even stale, was almost as good as heroin, sometimes.

She watched him with those big, blue eyes as she ate her pie, saying nothing more after her little drug-induced 'we should run away to China together' rant. Not until he mentions the heat dome, and her smile curls a bit.

"Better than trying to eat it frozen," she muses, brushing some crumbs off on her ripped, baggy jeans once she's finished. "I thought it was yummy."

Then, almost reluctantly, she adds, "Thank you."

As if that phrase carried some weight she wasn't sure about sharing -- an admission of a debt she wasn't sure she was ready to offer. But she was too polite to not thank him for buying her food, even if it did put her in his debt.

Quarters are laid out, then, one after another, as Aria watches, fascinated -- an angel that saw the meteor that killed the dinosaurs, the great flood, the rise and fall of the Roman Empire and thousands of others. Yet she was watching Colin set up to play this game like it was the most interesting thing she'd ever seen.

"Oh! Um..."

She glances at the door, briefly.

Then she chooses the side opposite Colin, putting him between her and whoever might poke their head in. And in her hoodie, the hood of which was still up, and baggy jeans.. it didn't look like there was much of a chance of anyone recognizing her.

"I've never played a video game before," she warns. "What you said before makes more sense, looking at it.. but I'll do my best."

Colin Wilkes has posed:
Colin Wilkes is kinda pickin' up what she's puttin' down, if a bit unconsciously. He has a lot of mirror neurons. She gets uncomfortable, then so does he, she gets a little more peppy, then so does he. He can tell she's a little bit delicate but can't possibly know why.

Theres a little montage where she gets taught the basics of the game, he shows off a little, but it steadily becomes apparent that its not about the game really. It never was. The game was just a place to go and something to do to distract from the awkwardness of 'Boy meets girl.'

"So anyway." he starts out, "When I was like thirteen this guy who calls himself the Scarecrow kidnapped me from the orphanage, I'm an Orphan by the way..." he seemed proud of this, "...and stuck me with a needle full of something called Venom. A lotta other drugs too that made me kinda lose my mind, and then he sent me to kill Batman. Fucked up right?" he glanced sideways, giving up on a combo to make sure she wasn't gonna bolt right there. "I don't remember what happened, but what I do know is that the guy realized I was just a kid and he saved me. Since then I been tryna figure life out for myself. Its just me out here, you know? Maybe that's you too."

Aria Seraphine has posed:
She didn't bolt.

She did look over at him, which completely screwed up the already questionable flow she'd worked out on the controls, but she didn't bolt.

Maybe unsurprisingly, the words that were said and the person saying them was more important to her than winning a game she only cared anything at all about because he was sharing it with her and it was important to him.

They were each really only there for the other, which was incredibly symbiotic. He could have been doing anything else, on his own or with anyone else he wanted to, but he was here with her... had even gotten her out of a heroin-induced torpor to invite her along.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, eyes back on the screen as she tries to emulate what he taught her. "A child... should never have to endure something like that." It's so sincere, and it makes her sound so... old. Like a grandmother commenting about something happening to one of her grandchildren. She pauses, failing to hit a combo because she mashed the buttons in the wrong order. (At least she's pretty). "It's just me, too," she confirms softly, but it's the only thing about herself that she volunteers. "How do you make money, if it's just you?"

Colin Wilkes has posed:
Colin stopped playing all together for a moment, hands off the controls, like he needed his hands to think for a moment. Should he talk about money? Money could make people weird. He rolled the dice, "Part time job as a bike mechanic apprentice while I was in school, saved a bunch, kinda going through it now. Sometimes I get lucky and I can get an shift at a bar that pays cash under the table and doesn't ask for ID. You know, take out the trash, haul kegs up from the basement, walk the girls to the car after closing. Usually that's like a solid seventy five a night, well I mean they always say a hundred and then its like some story or some fee or something and it ends up seventy five. I know I'm gettin hit, you don't have to explain it to me. Everyone gets hit in that world, like even the owners pay protection to the gangs. Its like a trap, easy money but not a lot, so you can get the quick hit you need but you cant execute on a plan to get out of it." he said, like he'd been thinking it through a lot.

Aria Seraphine has posed:
It's no fun playing if Colin isn't playing, so she takes her hands off of the controls, too, so she can listen.

"Yeah, it... sucks."

And for the first time, Aria reaches up, looping her fingers into the edges of the hoodie's hood, and pulls it completely back from her face. It's not a dramatic reveal or anything -- it just seemed to be more comfortable to see in her periphery and hear him without all the fabric over her head.

She only wore it to keep rando creepers from talking to her, anyway.

Aaaaand, that didn't seem to be working out.

Not that she seemed to mind, this time.

It does make her hair more visible, though, and she brushes a bit of it back behind her ear. Her too-blue eyes and that too-pretty face could be absolutely stunning -- genetic lottery, among the most beautiful people in the world levels of pretty -- if she wasn't so sullen, so world-weary... so tired. She looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"You work on motorcycles? Do you ride?"

Because of course that's what the addict he found half-dead on the bench would take away from all that -- that he's a bad boy that rides and might have a bike she can get on the back of.

Colin Wilkes has posed:
Colin Wilkes lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in not before checking the corners, "Damian gave me a bike. Its a trike actually?" as if that likely ruined the sex appeal. "Its called the Cycle of Abuse. Abuse is like my, alter ego? My super saiyan mode? Did I mention I fight crime? Man this is going off the rails fast. Do you wanna play another round orrrr?"

Aria Seraphine has posed:
"I don't know who Damian is," Aria whispers back in the same, conspiratorial voice, with just a hint of a grin curling the corners of her lips. But then her eyes are shifting past him and back again. There was no one terribly close.

Still, they shift past him and back again.

"Why are we whispering?" she continues to whisper. "Are you.. OH! Is that your secret identity?"

Her eyes widen.

"Did you just tell me your secret identity?" She's a little louder that time, a bit more excitement creeping into that semi-goofy smile. Pretty girl. Apparently also kind of a dork.

"Why? What are my other options? Are you offering to take me for a ride on your superhero tricycle?"

Colin Wilkes has posed:
Colin Wilkes grinned his lips into a firm suppression of the aforementioned grin. He parted his lips and just let out a vapid, "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...." almost as if he was so out of answers as to encourage her to join him in his 'colin.exe has stopped working' moment. "uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...." he continued. "......uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...."

"Yah. You gotta wear my helmet tho." he said, smiling so brightly that his eyes collapsed into thin little lines.

Aria Seraphine has posed:
"Uhhhhhhhhh..." It doesn't go on as long as his does, though. It does come with a teasing little smirk, though.

She doesn't need a helmet.

But what's she supposed to say? I'm an immortal fallen angel with healing powers? No.. she wasn't going to say that.

"Okay."

There's a simple, nonchalant little roll of one shoulder, then, and she starts collecting quarters. One after another, scooping with her nail and plopping them into her hand.

And then she holds out her hand, palm up. Full of quarters.

"Here you go."

Because she might be a liar. And a drug dealer. And a sex worker.

But she wasn't a thief.

Colin Wilkes has posed:
Colin Wilkes hurriedly stashed the quarters then grabbed her hand and ran her out of Donnie's, then ran her back into Donnie's "Ooops." grabbed the wrapper for the apple pie, pitched in the trash, then ran her back outside. Clankjingle went the door and its bevy of bells. Down the sidewalk they scampered toward the trike which, prior might have drawn her scorn for daring to not be a real motorcycle, but now that she knew it was his it could draw her scorn for daring to not be a real motorcycle. He tapped the remote, it chirped and came to life on the dark street:

Neon glow hidden in all three rims, cycling colors through the blue/green visible band.

Tiny strobe diodes firing off seemingly at random to indicate sparkle or starlight, or just the obvious indication of sigma level style.

A subwoofer kicked box aimed backwards, that rose up on hidden system forming the backrest of the second seat

Small fans hidden in the handlebars that caused the streamers hanging off them to kick about as if in wind when there was none.

An exhaust system so bulbous and long that it looked like it was jacked off the Space battleship Yamato

Before she could say 'I like both kinds of music' he slapped a way too big helmet on her head that cocked to one side, clipped it around her neck, and patted it once for good measure. He hopped on his hog and waited for her to join him as he lit the engine and cranked the throttle!

"Come on!"

Aria Seraphine has posed:
Laughter. Actual laughter that sounds like an angel's wings brushing a wind chime -- okay, maybe not that exactly, but it's light and melodic and _real_. And once it starts, it seems hard for Aria to stop it... like she was rolling down a hill and just kept rolling and rolling and rolling. That laughter, as he grabbed her hand, as he ran out, turned around, ran back in, dragging her along the whole while is absolutely delighted.

She's never had so much fun. She doesn't remember the last time she was this happy.

Happy.

That's a word that feels wrong on her tongue, even though it's only in her brain.

This is what happy feels like.

She'd almost forgotten.

And before he's even gone on the bike, it starts up with a touch of a remote?! WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?!

"COOL!"

Because it is. Because it's got lots of colors and sounds and fans and _streamers!_

And because it's his. And she likes him. And it makes him happy. And he makes her happy. This is all _such_ simple math. She doesn't need fancy or trendy or sexy or whatever else people called motorcycles... which was probably none of those things. But whatever it was he stood a chance of being self-conscious about can't possibly linger when he sees the look in her eye.

Excitement. Joy.

And then a little, like, squinty-eyed when that helmet gets shoved down and clipped, though she doesn't resist that, either. She even tilts her chin up a little to give him better access, and the pat makes her preen a little.

"What do I do?!" she yells, obviously unsure except that there was a seat, which she climbed up into before he even had a chance to answer, slipping in behind him and wrapping her arms around him as if that's just.. what you do, on a motorcycle. It pressed the softness of her front to the curve of her back when she did it, and she propped her chin on his shoulder.

"Like this?!"

Colin Wilkes has posed:
The three of them merged temporarily to become one creature with four arms, three wheels and four eyes. Two big smiles and a couple hundred horsepower of billionaire childhood friend gifting, this new creature which we will call Ariatrikelin, shot off down the streets toward the promise of the north south highways that flanked the city. Crowds of clubgoers piling up around entrances, huge billboards showing the latest fashion in high rez video. The old preserved neon's and backlit glass of the theaters. Yellow and green taxis. Black limos. The blur of taillights, the smell of pretzels and dirty water hotdogs. Steam belched up from the subway through access ports on the street. Work crews. Impossibly tall buildings old and gothic, long lines and gargoyles, row upon row of uniform windows, lit erratically in the some hearth gold. A massive bridge with hundreds of long cables slanting toward the water.

Moving through the world was safety, motion was safety, consequences would come for them when they arrived at their destination. But Colin had no destination in mind, so for the moment, they were safe forever.