Welcome to Gaia! ::

There weren’t a great deal of tables, it was too small for that but it had a similar cluttered close and personal feeling that the bookstore so recently departed. There was in fact only one table with a chair remaining, inviting really since it was one of the few plush black leather arm chairs that could be properly ‘sunk’ into with a good book and your choice of tea or coffee. Apparently no one wanted to sit quite so close to the teenager who sprawled in the other half of the two person table set up, as casual as he appeared at first glance he met a few gazes turned his way with a cold hard stare, unblinking and unapologetic.

He was reading ‘Legend of the Five Rings’, not an uncommon book these days, quite popular in fact with people for business. He turned his gaze towards you though with something more casual, glancing at your parcels and your cup of coffee as it was delivered in short order.

“Feel free.” He said with a sort of tone that indicated that was not something he said often. “Normally it’s not this bad.” He observed almost casually, picking his own cup off the table and taking a sip of the milky chai and its rich aroma of spices that hung heavy between them. “Shame the chess tables are taken, I’m rather in the mood for a ‘game’.” He said with a small shrug. Somehow ‘game’ didn’t sound like it was the only game he’d be up for playing.

“I don’t quite remember if I’ve seen you here before.”

“Zac” he offered in return and gave a firm but somehow reluctant shake after moments prolonged blink at the hand as though it seemed a very odd thing to be held between them. “Bookstore…” he murmured more interested. “What did you find if I might ask?” He picked up a stirring straw, still clean and apparently taken for the soul purpose of holding his place and placed it carefully between the pages and waited to see what the other young man had to offer in the way of interesting literature for perusal.

“It’s not normally this busy, but since apparently the ‘fancier’ shop just up the way is having some ‘curious’ issues with their water supply, the fall out has to come somewhere I suppose. Lord forbid that the world find itself short on the burnt and bitter brew.” He gave a wry amused look at your own cup before taking another sip of the spicy chai. “Though I’ll concede that they do make good coffee, for being what it is I mean.”

“A good book.” He confirmed glancing at the title. “Used books too, good choice for something you’re not sure of.” He waved off the potentially sarcastic overtone that the question might have had before the reassurance that it was a genuine inquiry followed it up. “I do, it’s one of my preferred locations normally to come and think. Today I find it a most excellent venue for –watching.” He said nodding to the crowd.

The thick press of humanity that scanned for tables scowled at the occupants and then pushed onward with their paper cups and thick sleeves protecting their hands from the steaming contents. Some huddled around their cups trying to protect the precious steaming contents. Others strutted with them as though it were a badge of honor won in the war. Some nursed the cup still steaming hot enough to hurt and overladen with whipped topping and sprinkles, too desperate for the caffeinating glory in their hands to be more mindful of the burn.

“Everyone is addicted to something here, I think many of them get a sense of power just from holding the cup, its…amusing I suppose.”

“As do I…” He agreed with an odd glitter in his eye. Oh yes, he found some things a great deal more empowering than holding a cup of coffee that was certain. “I like watching the people a great deal as well, theirs an art to it. You learn a great deal about them when they learn very little about you in return because most of them aren’t looking. I wonder sometimes if the world would be better, or worse if we all watched so closely.

“What is It you find empowering if I might ask? I’m curious, unless talking to strangers over coffee and chai is empowering and I haven’t yet discovered the deep satisfaction of it.”

Zac nodded at the conversation of how people behaved. “I think as a whole, the amount of time people spend caring about what others think is in many areas, decreasing however. Look at the social morality shifts that have taken place in a relatively short period of time.” He waved a hand to a couple who were half intertwined between two chairs, not caring who saw them exchanging fairly intimate kisses and from the flush of their faces, no doubt some fairly intimate talk of what might pass later that day, or night.

“Few people find that behavior shocking anymore, or rude though some will still tsk at it all the same.” He shrugged slightly but then arched his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly at the words ‘soldering iron’. “Oh? And what do you do with said soldering iron, hopefully you stick to melting solder and not fingers.” He offered a smile intending to prove that the suggestion was humorous. “Stained glass? Or Circuitry?” He asked, pressing on for information.

“An artist.” He said nodding in interest. “Is that your secret sense of power? Reshaping things into a shape that pleases you? Changing things to something that has meaning?”
The phrasing was oddly careful, interested but perhaps concealing more behind it.

“I’d like to see some time perhaps. It would be interesting to see what you make in your spare time, I haven’t that kind of talent I’m afraid, I can play the violin, I enjoy that a great deal but three dimensional crafts are for the most part beyond me.