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[PRP] Not Quite a Starbucks... [Raeburn/Leslie/Sadie/Alois]

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thyPOPE

Devoted Hoarder

PostPosted: Sun Sep 12, 2010 10:27 pm


Sadie hadn't realized it until now, but she hadn't been to the on-campus food court in a long time - freshman year, maybe. Okay, yeah, it was a short time, but it was pretty much her entire college life ago. She'd found an outdoor cafe that she'd frequented often when she was a freshman on a break, and had immediately taken the opportunity to grab Raeburn from his daycare center and sit him across from her in what seemed to be the only empty table.

"What's that?" Raeburn asked while they waited for their drinks to arrive (Sadie'd ordered a cappuccino, and a hot chocolate for Raeburn), pointing over at the table next to them, where a sickeningly sweet couple was sharing an iced mocha. It was a very nice color, he thought.

"Oh, um," said Sadie, who really had no idea how to explain coffee. He usually peered into her morning mug of it and winced. Apparently he didn't like stains. "I've never had one," she fibbed. "I like my caffeine hot."

Raeburn frowned, and began peering around at the decor again. "I don't - "

"Not aloud!" Sadie hissed. Much of the waitstaff had changed since she'd frequented this place, but the manager hadn't, and he was a jerk (she liked the coffee, though).
PostPosted: Mon Sep 13, 2010 9:33 pm


Since Alois’ apartment was far from campus and spent most of the day within college grounds, it was rather safe to say that he lived on campus food and the various cafes and restaurants that bordered the university. Besides, the food was a thousand times tastier than what he could ever hope to whip up in his kitchen. The extent of his food making skills seemed to halt at things like French toast, or sushi, or other simple dishes that didn’t really require any cooking skills. It was sort of disappointing. Alois was secretly hoping that perhaps Leslie would take it upon himself to learn cooking and save them both, but couldn’t imagine it to be happening anytime soon if at all.

At least he could peacefully relax at an umbrella-covered table without Leslie running off to mercilessly bother an unsuspecting student. Silently sipping at his iced tea—he would have ordered some other caffeinated drink, but after various harpings from his mother was attempting to ease away from the addicting substance—as he scribbled into his notebooks, Alois was unbothered when the winged boy curiously heaved the violin case into his puny lap and peek inside to gleefully touch the smooth wood of the instrument.

“Just don’t damage my violin, okay? It’s really expensive and important to me,” warned the young adult, his gaze never once straying from his paper.

Startled—did he have eyes on his head or something?—Leslie hastily snapped the container shut and rather messily leaned it against Alois’ chair. Figures. Instead, he looked around for anything interesting, anything he could fiddle around with his trouble-magnet hands. Spotting a boy with white hair, blue eyes, and wings—sound familiar?—he quietly slid out of his seat and walked over to the table in front of him. Without warning and rather casually Leslie reached out to poke at the dangling watch that hung from one of his tiny wings.

“Cool.”

Syusaki


thyPOPE

Devoted Hoarder

PostPosted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 2:32 pm


Wings were a part of your body just your hands, or your hair were - Leslie's touch on Raeburn's wings caused him to turn around in shock. Most Gaians wouldn't go around randomly touching your wings. Well. Some of Sadie's friends might, but he usually hid out whenever he saw them come over - she'd failed several times to introduce him to any of them.

"They stain, you know," Raeburn said accusingly. It wasn't really a stain - the delicate color that sometimes leaked from his wings was too pretty to be a stain, he thought. But Sadie always flailed around comically when any of the color got onto her walls - not that they were clean of color in the first place. "It's ink. And it's ow-ka-holic." Raeburn didn't know what alcohol was, but Sadie had told him it wasn't a good idea to ingest it.

He looked the other boy over. Grudgingly he had to admit his wings were nice-looking - very smooth, with a richness and uniformity in color that he admired. But that didn't mean Raeburn liked him or anything.
PostPosted: Sat Oct 09, 2010 6:30 pm


Leslie giggled at the shocked expression on the other boy’s face. “It’s not like I did anything bad. I just touched your wing, is that so wrong?” he laughed, stroking the soft, colorful feathers. Oops. Raeburn’s warning had come a bit too late, the guitar Herald noticed, as his fingers were splattered with small stains, though they were all a pretty shade of color. “It’ll wash off,” he reasoned with an unconcerned shrug. “Or does owkaholic mean it’s permanent?”

Leaning his upper body to the side to look past Raeburn and at Sadie, the younger boy asked, “Is that your mom? Because you’re a ‘Herald’ too, right?” He pushed a hand forward to curiously draw a line down Raeburn’s face, wondering if the ink would rub off on him. “Your wings are pretty. What thingy did she sacrifice? I know Alois gave me his—Brynn’s—guitar, so I like guitar and music stuff.” Leslie always considered the guitar to be Alois’ rather than Brynn’s (he had never even seen the woman).

Syusaki


thyPOPE

Devoted Hoarder

PostPosted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 12:43 am


Clearly Raeburn and Leslie had a wildly differing opinion of 'boundaries.' The other Herald was remarkably carefree - Raeburn would be freaking out if he'd gotten ink on his hands. "I don't know," he confessed. "You're not supposed to eat it though. I think it's poison," Raeburn frowned. He didn't know if you could lick alcohol.

"She's Sadie," said Raeburn in reply, turning his head to look. She wasn't really his mom, right? He lived with her, though. This...guitar-winged Herald sure asked a lot of questions. "I think I'm a Herald. Everyone keeps calling me one." The boy pulled his head back from Leslie's face almost a little too late - Copic ink dried quickly, but not that quickly. Some of the ink had rubbed off onto Raeburn's face - though luckily Leslie hadn't gotten it into his eye.

"What color is it?" he asked, suddenly panicked. "It's not ugly, right?" He grabbed for Leslie's hand - his first sudden movement. It was imperative that he knew exactly what kind of color was streaked across his forehead and nose.

In his haste he'd forgotten about Leslie's question. But he wouldn't mind waiting for the answer, right? This was important.
PostPosted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 9:22 pm


“Poison?” Leslie cocked his head to the side, questioningly staring at the paint that dotted his small fingers. How could colorful paint be dangerous, he wondered. The younger Herald shrugged and decided to heed the warning. Better to be safe than sorry he supposed. He longingly looked at the colors one last time, distractedly mumbling, “Oh. That’s a pretty name. Sadie.”

He nodded understandingly. “I think so too. Because Niven says I’m one. And Guin thinks so too.” Leslie mentioned the other two without a second thought, expectantly staring at Raeburn to know the other two automatically.

Surprised by the panicked reaction, Leslie moved his head back as he skeptically watched the other child snatch up the stained hand. “I think it’s a just fine color, but I don’t know about you,” he answered honestly and matter-of-factly. He couldn’t fathom why Raeburn would be acting so hastily over a couple splotches on his skin, but people couldn’t fathom why Leslie liked to cause so much trouble for Alois either. It was a particular quirk, it seemed. “What’s the thingy she sacrificed?” he repeated impatiently, even leaning over to the side and boldly catching Sadie’s attention. “Hey! What thingy did you sacrifice?”

Syusaki


thyPOPE

Devoted Hoarder

PostPosted: Sun Oct 31, 2010 12:15 pm


"I don't know Niven," said Raeburn (it was a pretty strange name, in Raeburn's opinion, but what did he know?), "but do you mean Guinevere?" She had been a nice, if confusing lady - she could sew, too! That was a talent that Raeburn admired. Sadie couldn't sew, or not well, anyway. And he thought the needle looked very sharp. "She asks an awful lot of questions." Not unlike Leslie, really.

Sadie glanced over, startled to be interrupted. She'd been lost in thought, and actually completely unaware that her...son, for lack of a better word, had struck up a conversation with a neighbor. "Hm? Sacrifice?" Sadie furrowed her brow, and then realized that the boy looked quite similar to Raeburn - and in a very familiar way. "Oh! You mean - they were markers. Copic markers." Leslie probably didn't know what those were, but Sadie had loved them very dearly. And they had been extremely expensive, too.

"But I'm not markers," Raeburn said quickly, in case Leslie got the wrong idea. "I'm Raeburn," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Who're you?"
PostPosted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 7:03 pm


Leslie nodded his head in confirmation. “Yeah, Guinevere, but it’s easier to call her Guin. Less stuff to say,” he commented with a shrug, and by stuff he obviously ‘meant’ syllables. This boy clearly needed to expand his vocabulary more. “Really? I didn’t notice.” He curiously cocked his head at the other Herald. Well, perhaps that was because they were conversing during an orchestra concert, but apparently that was an unnecessary detail.

“Copic markers.” He repeated the unfamiliar term, speaking with a loud mouth to exaggerate its newness. “I know what a marker is, but what makes a copic marker a copic marker?” Large, curious eyes stared at Sadie as he expectantly waited for her knowledgeable response. “Well of course you aren’t a marker. Markers are small and tube-shaped, wit h caps and stuff,” Leslie agreed matter-of-factly.

Nice of him to omit his name, by the way. Geez, what was Alois doing right now? Too immersed in his homework, was it?

Syusaki


thyPOPE

Devoted Hoarder

PostPosted: Sat Nov 20, 2010 5:08 pm


It was okay if Leslie's vocabulary wasn't too large - Raeburn's was mostly full of adjectives he'd heard in the art magazines that Sadie read aloud to him. "They're Copic?" Raeburn shrugged. He didn't know, personally. He'd seen Sadie use them before but she hadn't specifically told him which ones were Copic and which ones weren't.

"Copic's the name of a company," said Sadie. "I, uh, happen to have a lot of Copics because, well - " She pulled out a Copic Sketch from her bag. It was color 110, or special black. Sadie had no idea what made it special, but hey. At least it wasn't "bareley" beige (ahem, E11!). "There's two caps because there're two nibs," she explained. "One's a brush and the other's like a normal chisel-point marker." She didn't stop and think whether or not he knew what a chisel point was. "I like them because they don't smell and they're easy to blend with one another." She smiled at the guitar Herald, and then glanced up at his guardian behind him. "That someone you know?" she asked, gesturing at him.

"What's your name?" Raeburn clarified his earlier question in a low voice, leaning closer to Leslie. Maybe it was a big secret or something. Maybe he didn't want Sadie to hear. Maybe it was something girls couldn't know.
PostPosted: Wed Nov 24, 2010 7:26 pm


“A company? Oh, okay,” answered Leslie with a blank face. He had no clue what a company was either, but he could always ask Alois to tell him later, or somehow make use of a dictionary with its lovely jargon.

When Sadie reached into her bag to retrieve a black marker, the guitar Herald immediately walked over to closely examine it and its unfamiliarity. It was new and shiny, therefore it was interesting! He vaguely followed along to the woman’s explanation, considering he was unaware of what a “nib” or “chisel” was. Regardless, he quickly nodded his head. “Oh, okay.” Leslie leaned over to follow where Sadie was pointing. “Do you mean Alois? Doing his homework thingies? Yeah. Do you wanna call him over? Alois!” Before he could let either of the two reply he jumped up and down, waving an arm to gain his guardian’s attention.

A curious Alois looked up at the mention of his name, shocked to find that Leslie had wandered over to another table. The winged child was always so my-pace, it was difficult to keep up with him. Although miffed, he compliantly arranged his papers and pens back into his bag.

“Oh, yeah! I’m Leslie,” he finally answered, tugging on Alois’ shirt once he arrived. “This is Raeburn, and that’s Sadie.”

“My apologies if Leslie’s disturbed you two.” Alois curtly bowed. Leslie huffed.

Syusaki

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