8971/Don't Fear. Christmas Cheer is Here.

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Don't Fear. Christmas Cheer is Here.
Date of Scene: 06 December 2021
Location: Rockefeller Center
Synopsis: June robs Roland who doesn't realize it. Then they make a date.
Cast of Characters: Roland Livingston, June Connor




Roland Livingston has posed:
It's a good day. Despite raining a bit earlier the sky now has the puffy white clouds in it and the temperature isn't bad. There are crowds out shopping now, as it's December, and Rockefeller Center has numerous retail establishments to grab Christmas gifts at.

One of those out shopping is Roland. He's visiting various stores, trying on some new clothes here, picking up a fancy watch there. Even dropping some cash money on a new umbrella, in case it rains again while he's out and about. As he strolls between shops his umbrella's tip taps against the ground, the Englishman using it like a cane, almost, just not putting any weight on it.

June Connor has posed:
    June's stroll along the streets of Rockefeller is with purpose. As Roland and many others are shopping, she's doing her own shopping, just for a different reason. She's dressed to distract. While she doesn't have the most alluring form, a bit of an overly thin figure without much to boast of in curves, she still dresses as if it were otherwise, and as the day is a little warmer than it could be, she's got a skull and crossbones t-shirt on that shows almost as much as it covers, a winding dragon tattoo visible on her midriff. Despite this, she has on an open black denim jacket. After all, it's not THAT warm, and some shredded blue jeans to finish the tough girl composition.

    She acts like she belongs there, but truth be known, she doesn't. She doesn't have a dime of her own to spend at the moment. She struts down the street with an arrogant gait, and spots Roland out of the crowd. It's the watch. People with watches like that have money. She slows her pace a little, tilting her head to one side. "Not a care in the world," she comments to herself with a smirk.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland keeps strolling along, not a care in the world. It's the time of year when good things are supposed to happen to people and he's going to make sure the handful of people on his Christmas list, as well as himself, end up with something nice for the holidays. His walk takes him towards another fancy shop, this one selling kitchen wares. While he doesn't do much of his own cooking it's nice to know that the kitchen at his penthouse is fully equipped with the latest and best food preparation technology. The caterers and cooks he hires like it, at least.

Waltzing through the door that's held open for him by a shop attendant he gives a polite nod to the salesperson and goes in to see if there's anything his home might be missing. Or maybe just something that looks like fun. Who knows?

June Connor has posed:
    June follows her way in behind Roland, giving a nod to the attendand as if they know each other. They don't. With all of the bustling, though, it isn't Roland she seeks to collide with. She walks around idly for a moment, and then takes opportunity when she bumps into a middle-aged woman with a rather large purse. The typical target. She lets herself be bounced off the lady, and back into Roland, which is when her move is made, needing to be caught or else she'll land butt first on the ground.

    "Hey, watch it," the lady says, glancing down at her bag, clearly she has suspicion that she's just been pickpocketed. She starts publicly making a show that she's onto June, sifting through her purse to check and see if everything is there.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Often the gentleman, Roland is quick to catch June before she can hit the floor. "Are you alright, Ms?" All polite and stuff. He glances at the purse lady for a moment as he makes sure that June is upright and stable. "It's a beautiful time of year here, isn't it?" His accent is super upper class English. "I quite like living in the States, so much to see and do in the city."

June Connor has posed:
    June grabs onto Roland's arms as he catches her. "I didn't do anything," she says with a little annoyance, her hand sliding straight to the wallet inside the jacket quick and nimbly with two fingers as she rights herself, fumbling to get clumsy legs under her own weight.

    "Yeah?" the middle-aged woman checks thoroughly, and satisfied that her goods are all present, she looks at Roland. "Yes, very nice time of year," she says, as if trying to save face from the fact that her suspicions of June turned out to be false. No apology, though.

    "Yeah happy holidays to you too," June comments, her hand slipping the wallet into the waist of her jeans as she finishes standing up straight, her attention on the woman who has accused her rather than on Roand himself.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Terribly sorry that that woman seemed to think you were up to no good," Roland says to June, taking a moment to look her over to assure himself she's fully functional. "So what were you shopping for? I'm told there's a new kind of immersion blender I haven't obtained yet. I'm not sure how it's better than the one I've already got, but I feel like anyone who cooks in my kitchen might appreciate it."

He's a friendly sort, smiling at the woman he just helped, "Are you much of a cook? I'm afraid I'm more the eat out or order in sort. My family used to have a chef, back home."

June Connor has posed:
    June shrugs, "Oh, nah it's fine," she says, looking after the woman who heads off. "I'm used to it," she indicates her face, piercings in her eyebrows, half shaved head with fire engine red hair. She doesn't look the gentle sort. "I'm used to it, y'know?" she comments. "Haters hate. What am I looking for?" She has a momentary pause, as if she's uncertain what to answer. "Fryin' pans," she says. "Mine are all beat up to shit, y'know? Gotta get some that are good for cookin' stuff. I dunno what an immersion blender even is. That different from a regular one?" she asks.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"People need to learn to not judge based on appearances, but since they do I tend to dress more conservatively," Roland says with a shrug, tilting his head a bit as he takes a closer look at the young woman. "Immersion blenders have the spinny blades like a blender, only on the end of them so you can stick them into things and blend stuff that way. This new type is supposed to work better or faster or be less messy. Something like that." Yet another shrug. "Let me help you find some good pans. Do you like cast iron? When I cook for myself it's usually out in the wilderness and I keep a small cast iron pan. Easy to season, easy to clean and quite sturdy."

June Connor has posed:
    If only he knew. "Oh, that sounds kinda dangerous," she admits. "Um, yeah, cast iron is good," she agrees. "But I'm sure you got your own stuff to do, it's cool," she suggests. "I know e'rybody's in a hurry with Christmas shoppin' and all," she says. Her body language closes a little, and she puts her arms around herself to hold her opposing arms.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I'm not in a hurry. The only people I really need to shop for are my staff and I've picked up a watch for each of them," Roland says with a smile. Then he lets out a chuckle, "Had to buy them twice. The first time I handed them off to someone when I witnessed Reed Richards fall through the sky with a horde of giants wasps following him. Dealt with a few of the bugs before they succumbed to the atmosphere and chill of our world. Should have just dropped the watches, I suppose, but I thought the insects would be a bigger threat."

The Englishman lifts his chin, "What size pan are you looking for? If it's for home use you should get a fairly large one. Cook up whole meals at a time. And you'll probably want a bunch of dish rags to wipe it clean after use. I honestly use bandanas of the sort you can find in Pound Town. Just throw them in a little laundry bag with holes in it and wash them by themselves."

June Connor has posed:
    June glances at the pans, "Yeah, that one looks good," she says, pointing at a 14 inch. It's big. "Did you say staff?" she asks, her face perking up. "Like, you got servants?" she asks. "And you know Reed Richards?" Internal dollar signs look like they are going off in her eyes. "Never met anyone who has servants before. That's...crazy." The tone suggests that such a thing is beyond her comprehension.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Well, my staff is for maintaining and operating my vehicles, like my yacht and my plane," Roland explains with a shrug and a bit of a smile. "I do a lot of traveling to various places and it's important to be able to get there in a timely manner with all my equipment. It's much easier going somewhere when I can just have my driver take me right to the tarmac and unload everything onto the jet. Flying commercial is terrible, I was once captured by Nazi terrorists of a sort. Got to bust up a few of them when some superheroes arrived to help."

"I know Doctor Richards a little bit. He's a good chap with a remarkable mind. I mean to have him over for a party some time if I can catch him when he's not busy."

June Connor has posed:
    June's stare says what her words seem to not be able to. She opens her mouth, closes it. She purses her lips, and looks back at the pan. "Right. Fuck." She lets out a laugh. "You're totally fucking with me, right?" she asks. "Bastard, you had me believing you!" While the insult is thrown at him, it's a tone that suggests that she finds the whole thing amusing rather than angering. "Busting up nazis with superheroes, huh? There's a pickup line I haven't heard before."

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland laughs along with the young woman, then shrugs his shoulders, "Google me. Roland Livingston." He reaches into his jacket to grab a business card and his brow furrows curiously. Still, a metallic card is produced and offered over. "The news mentioned the hijacking and rescue. There's even a photo of me and some of the others that were captured." Then he goes back to patting his jacket, "Lost my damn wallet somewhere." He looks around for a moment, checking the floor as he speaks, "You'll come up with a bank robbery I broke up as well, probably. I tried to hush that one up but loose lips on the Gotham PD got the story out remarkably quickly."

June Connor has posed:
    June looks at the card, not unaware that it means his missing wallet is revealed. "Huh," she says with a curl of her lip. "Well fuck me sideways and call me Susie. You're serious?" She looks away at the card at the sudden need to find his wallet. "Is it in your other pocket or somethin'?" she asks, glancing around the floor with him. "Oh shit, that lady!" June's eyes go wide, as if realizing something. "She shoved me into you." She checks her own back pockets. "Mine's gone too. She got both of us? Damn, that's good." She starts glancing around the store, looking to see if she can spot the woman.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Shit," Roland starts looking for the woman, too. "Acting as if she were the victim in order to distract us. Clever, actually." He doesn't seem too angry until he hears that June's wallet is missing, too, "I'm quite perturbed. I can see someone lifting my wallet, that wouldn't be unheard of, but to rob a young woman like yourself?" His head shakes from side to side as he checks for the purse lady. "Lets grab your pan, at least. I can pay for it with my phone while you call the constabulary. I'm sure there's video in this store of the woman that they can use to identify her."

June Connor has posed:
    "Yeah well," June shrugs, "People are assholes." Her own vocabulary seems to be rather limited. "Call the what?" she asks. Holy crap, this guy is gonna pay for her pan and she just robbed him. She should feel bad about that. Probably. "Oh, the cops!" She nods, "Uh, yeah I can call the cops." She reaches to pull her phone from her pocket. It's a prepaid phone. Nothing fancy about it at all. She starts to dial.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Grabbing the pan off of the wall, Roland frowns deeply. He looks at the cheap phone in the woman's hand and grits his teeth together when he makes the realization that she's not anywhere near his tax bracket. "Alright, you contact the coppers and we can pay for your pan. I'll ask for the manager when we get to the register, as well. They might be able to have the security footage waiting for the police when they get here."

June Connor has posed:
    June glances at the corners of the store, looking for the cameras. Before concerning herself, she needs to know if it will out her as the thief she's accusing someone else of being. Cameras don't see everywhere, but they do see some things, and she wasn't really concerned about them at the outset of something like this.

    "You think they saw what happened?" she asks. "Even if they did, I mean, what's it gonna change, that lady's long gone now. She probably made like a baby and head out, y'know?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"You're right, I suppose. It's still probably good to inform people so they can know to keep a close eye on their belongings," Roland says to June with a shrug. "If you'd rather not then I don't blame you, however. We'll get you your pan and then, if you'd like, I can have my driver take you home. I'll need to deal with the police about this matter at some point, but I'll see if I can't get a lawyer to do everything for me. I have a bit of pull since I sometimes consult for them, but I really don't feel like doing paperwork myself."

June Connor has posed:
    June smirks. "So weird. You like, just can have someone deal with it for you. And I guess I just don't have anything for them to steal. They crack my account? Joke's on them. But now I'm gonna have to get a new ID and everything. Ugh, the DMV sucks, too. Sit around in line for a year." She tilts her head to one side curiously, looking up at Roland appraisingly. "So uh, if you don't mind me asking. What exactly do you...do? I mean, how does somebody get as rich as you? Asking for a friend."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I'm not looking forward to getting all my licenses and whatnot once more," Roland agrees with the young lady. "It certainly feels like it takes a year when you're waiting, doesn't it? Bureaucracies are so inefficient sometimes."

When asked about what he does the young man cracks a smile, "I'm a monster hunting, treasure recovering adventurer. Historically, my family would stumble into all sorts of treasures looking for magical artifacts or slaying evil sorcerers and whatnot. I inherited the fortune when they were all murdered, though." His shoulders shrug, "I also consult with various police departments on arcane matters and do some teaching on the side."

June Connor has posed:
    June gives a suspicious squint. "So...you are like...a movie character, but in real life?" she asks. "And British. And rich." She looks at his left hand. No way in hell this guy is single. "You can't be real. Like, there's a camera here somewhere watching us, right? Like one of those Mr. Beast Videos?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland chuckles, "I live an interesting life." Then, with a grin on his face, he says, "I can show you the penthouse some time. I plan on having a little get together closer to Christmas, if you'd like to attend." Still smiling, he asks, "What is it that you do for a living? I might know some people in your business, could put in a word for you. I'm trying to mingle with other well to do types, going to fancy hangouts like the Iceberg Lounge in Gotham and the Hellfire Club here."

June Connor has posed:
    "Oh, I don't really got a business," June confesses. "Usually just odd jobs and shit. I'm pretty sure we probably don't have a lot of the same circles. Guys like you probably don't mingle with managers of convenience stores and strip clubs." She pauses, and then raises a finger, adding. "I'm not a stripper." Just in case that may have been the communication.

    "But, I /do/ know that the Hellfire Club prolly ain't your "cup'o'tea"," she says, poorly mimicking an English accent. "Those assholes run most of the crime in New York City."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Well, if we keep in communication and I come across some sort of job opportunity I'll let you know," Roland says with a smile. "That is, if you're interested. Steady work is one of those things that doesn't seem particularly appealing to me." The he chuckles, "I like convenience stores, but you're right, I don't really do much socializing there."

When she mentions the Hellfire Club being run by criminals he lifts an eyebrow, "Really? I thought it was where all the rich snobs hung out. Rich, criminal snobs are an altogether different animal."

June Connor has posed:
    They reach the front of the line, and June shrugs. "I mean, most of the rich people I've met have usually gotten there by somethin' a little dirty," she says. "Heck, you're kind of a tomb robber or something, right? Finding ancient artifacts and stuff? If they were still alive you'd be a thief." She frowns. "That came out judgmental. I suck at talking. Just as a heads up."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"It's quite alright," Roland chuckles. "I'm a grave robber, when you come down to it. Also a temple robber on occasion." He brings the pan up to the register so it can be scanned and bagged, taking his phone out and touching the card machine with it to pay for the item. As the receipt is handed to him he sticks it in the bag, "May I carry your bag, Ms?" There's a bit of a smirk. "I've also taken items from living sorts sometimes, but they tend to be criminals or otherwise evil people."

June Connor has posed:
    "Okay, so now you're Robin Hood as well?" June asks, looking at the bag. Something seems to be turning in her mind before she answers the question. "Yeah, thanks," she decides with a smile. "So what makes a person evil? Just breaking the law? Or do they gotta be like rapists and murderers? Some people steal because they just gotta live, y'know. I know a lot of thieves I think are pretty good people."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I don't give to the people when I recover magical items, I keep them as safe as possible," Roland says with a shrug. "Thieves are rarely evil. Many are very selfish, but so long as they don't hurt others in order to prosper themselves then they aren't so bad. The crooks who go after poor people, the infirm or the elderly are pretty lousy human beings, though." He heads for the door so he can open it, check outside, then keep it open for June. "Generally the evildoers I deal with hurt or kill people who haven't attacked them. Human sacrifices and such aren't just in movies. Blood can be a powerful spell reagent, especially fresh, unused blood." He cracks a smile, "Hell, the lady that robbed us isn't evil. She's a bit of a scumbag for targeting you as well as me, but I'd never blame anyone for pickpocketing me. I'm loaded and I don't hide it."

June Connor has posed:
    June's smile broadens a little as she walks through the door. "Wow, I don't remember the last time someone held a door for me," she comments. "I'm not exactly your most ladylike lady. In case you hadn't noticed." She brushes back a lock of red hair, but doesn't hook it on her ear, so it just flops back to where it was. "Unused blood. Is that even a thing? Isn't all blood, uh...used constantly?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"It's my pleasure," Roland says with a nod. "You may not be ladylike, but there's no reason I shouldn't offer to do things like hold doors for you and whatnot. I try not to be sexist, but I'm often a gentleman." Then he nods once more, "Unused in any ritual. Virgin blood typically refers to blood that's only been used to carry oxygen, not the blood of someone who's never engaged in sexual activities. Magic is strange, but fascinating. I don't practice the arcane arts, personally, but I'm one of the more knowledgeable people on the planet when it comes to the subject."

June Connor has posed:
    "Are you now?" June asks, turning as she walks to walk backward for a moment in front of Roland. "Hopefully not /too/ gentlemanly," she comments. Definitely there was some suggestion in that tone before she turns back around, and settles her pace back to be even with the treasure hunter. "So. All knowledgable on magic stuff. What made you wanna do all that stuff, anyway?" she asks. Where are they walking? Well, she doesn't seem to direct anywhere particularly, she just seems to be going wherever he is.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Play your cards right and you might find out for yourself," Roland smirks. "My family's been in the magic gathering business for hundreds of years so I grew up in it. Our libraries were probably the best on Earth and our collection of artifacts was extensive. They paid for the best tutors on top of making us study magical history and whatnot, so I've got quite a varied education. I communicate in half a dozen languages fluently and I'm a master swordsman, in addition to being a talented survivalist and athlete. All thanks to the way I was raised up." And the fact he's not entirely human.

It turns out Roland isn't really thinking about where he's heading, either, so caught up in conversation is he. He's just heading in the direction he was when he came across the kitchen store.

June Connor has posed:
    "You really are a movie character," June reiterates. "Fuck. You just are lacking the cooking skills to make it complete, huh?" she teases. "Lessee," she acts as if she is going to recount some grandiose history, looking up at the sky as if trying to remember it as she shoves her hands in her jacket pockets. "I dropped out of school when I was thirteen, so I'm dumb as a board. The end."

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I'm not a terrible cook, but I am excellent at ordering delivery," Roland comments with a wink. Then he shrugs his shoulders, "I know I'm incredibly privileged, but you don't need to talk down about yourself. You seem rather intelligent. That's something that's distinctly different from educated." His chin lifts, "Why did you drop out of school? If you don't mind my asking, that is."

June Connor has posed:
    "I'm really not," June says with a quirk of her eyebrow. "But flattery will get you everywhere." She gives a wry open mouthed smile at the question. "That's not a great story," she says. "I had a falling out with my mom. Totally her fault," she adds, "Fucked off and never looked back. Turns out that when you're thirteen, it's kinda hard to sign for most stuff on your own. So...I just kinda stumbled through shit, and...here I am." Certainly not a very detailed description

Roland Livingston has posed:
"I don't know how I'd have survived if I left home at that age," Roland says thoughtfully. "I'm good out in the wilderness, but if I'm in the city and I don't my money and my cars and whatnot I have no idea how I'd get by. Probably live out of dumpsters." There's a shrug. "No need to worry about that any time soon." He pauses thoughtfully, "I'm sorry about your relationship with your mother. That must have been difficult."

June Connor has posed:
    "Yeah, was...different," she says, choosing not to go into the details of her own strategy. "I wouldn't even know what to do if I had money," she smirks. "I don't even know how to get a rental car or sign shit or...any of that. Living in the Apple, not like I gotta be able to drive." June scratches at a tooth briefly. "I mean, it's whatever, I don't think about her much now. I don't even have a clue what she's doing." She tilts at the hips, bending forward and turning her head to look up as they walk. "So what do rich folk do at Christmas?" she asks. Yes, a very decided change of subject.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland lets the young lady change topics without commenting. He nods, "When my family was alive we'd have a great celebration at our castle. Caterers, musicians, the works. It was one of the few times when everyone was together and not off adventuring so I truly enjoyed it. Got to spend a lot of time with my loved ones before we resumed training or monster hunting. This year I'm going to throw a party for some of the folks I've met since coming to the States. I thought about having it on my yacht but New York is too cold for that. I'm debating hunting a deer or boar for the festivities and bringing in a chef to make sure it tastes better than I can do with my cast iron pans."

June Connor has posed:
    June arches, "Wait wait, castle?" she asks, and laughs aloud, curling her lips around her teeth. "You gotta be shitting me. Are you gonna turn out to be some serial killer or something?" she asks with mock suspicion as her hand reaches for the wallet in her pants under the jacket, trying to remain nonchalant about her movements. "So where do you hunt a boar around here?"

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Yes, it's not around any more. It was destroyed when the rest of my family was murdered," Roland says seriously. Then he shakes his head, "Not a serial killer. Last time I killed a man was breaking up a bank robbery in Gotham. They tried grabbing hostages and I found myself reacting with lethal force in order to protect them." Then he chuckles, "Around here? I'm not sure. I was thinking of flying out to Texas or somewhere down in the southern states where they're a particularly ecologically devastating invasive species. It's important to respect the environment, at least to me, and one of the better ways to do that is to help control the spread of nuisance animals." Then he laughs, "Wherever I go I think I'll bring a boar spear. Bows aren't great for taking boar, at least historically, but spears work well. In Hawaii they hunt them with dogs and knives."

June Connor has posed:
    June points up to the tall hotel buildings surrounding them. "So you get a boar in Texas, and throw a party in like a penthouse of one of these?" she asks, trying to draw his attention upward momentarily so that her hand can thumb through the wallet for any cash she can remove with the one hand, if any. Most people she realizes don't even carry cashe anymore. Find any or not, she aims to toss the wallet low, trying to pinpoint a spot on the sidewalk that he should theoretically step on it.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland looks up at the buildings and nods, "Yes." He looks around a bit more, "Don't think I can see my building from here." His wallet's got some cash in it. A bunch of crisp twenties that look as though they're fresh out of an ATM or the bank. "My particular penthouse is only one floor, though it's quite nice. Open floorplan for most of it with the bedrooms, private office and full baths down a hallway. It's a lot lonelier than living at the castle, if I'm being honest. The only staff I have now maintain and operate my vehicles. I don't even have a maid or butler, I just let Roombas loose and bring in a cleaning service once a week or so."

June Connor has posed:
    June quirks her mouth to one side as the grounded wallet comes up. She makes sure that her hands are back in her pockets. "Well, loneliness is always easily fixed by having somebody else around," she says. "Hell, I usually end up in places with too many people around. You have any idea on how many people can fit in a studio apartment? More than should." She laughs, as if such a desperate situation were just normal and even amusing.

Roland Livingston has posed:
When he steps forward his foot lands on something kind of squishy. A leather wallet. /His/ leather wallet. "Huh, look at that." Roland reaches down to scoop it up and opens it to take a quick look inside. "All my cards and IDs and whatnot are still there. Cash is gone, but that's to be expected. I'm just glad this didn't end up tossed down a storm drain or into a rubbish bin." He takes another look around, focusing on the ground, "Don't see yours, unfortunately." Then he snaps back to the conversation at hand, "Well, as I said before, I'm having a holiday get together and I'd be happy if you showed up." At her laughter he joins in with some of his own, "I can only imagine. I've mastered the art of being lonely in a crowd, though. Especially when I'm hosting. I tend to observe people more than interact unless it's in a small group or one on one."

June Connor has posed:
    June glances around, and shrugs. "Yeah, par for the course," she says. She doesn't look too concerned as she slowly comes to a stop as Roland examines his wallet. A slightly mischevious grin that comes over her face, arching that pierced brow of hers. "So sounds like you should host one on one," she says. "Y'know, so keep from being lonely." There's the clack of something in her teeth. A tongue ring, probably a predictable accessory given the rest of her look.

Roland Livingston has posed:
"Should I?" Roland asks about hosting for just one person. "Perhaps you should let me host you some time, in that case. Just give me a few days notice so I can make sure I'm ready and not otherwise occupied." His wallet ends up back in his jacket which is then patted firmly. He'll need to be more careful in the future. "So, is there anywhere you'd like to go now, or anything you'd like to do? I'm afraid I'm just window shopping at this point."

June Connor has posed:
    "Well," June shrugs, "My wallet's gone, and really, that pan was the only thing I was looking for," she says. She rocks back on her heels a little, and then up on her toes. "But since you need a few days warning before you host, maybe I'll give that now, and I'll let you pick what to do, I don't hang out with the well-to-do crowd much. Most of my dates have been to dive bars if I'm lucky." Is she old enough to drink? Probably not.

Roland Livingston has posed:
Roland smiles at June, looks her over briefly and then nods, "No dive bars for us. I'll arrange something nice." His lips press together tightly in consideration, "I've got something in mind already that I think you'll enjoy. Do you have any dietary preferences or restrictions I should be aware of? I'll make a charcuterie plate for us to enjoy while we ride in the back of one of my cars, bring some bubbly, too."