Welcome to Gaia! ::

Melee murmured softly under her breath as she paused outside the door of the supposed shop, wondering if this wasn’t another elaborate internet hoax dreamt up by college students with nothing better to do. It had been a couple of days ago that her Digital Art major work blipped out of existence. Three months of staring at her laptop screen until her doctor threatened blindness and enduring knuckles so sore, they cracked... All gone. Data retrieval was useless. Antivirus had come up blank. Throwing a couple of keywords into Google had been a last-ditch effort; she certainly hadn’t expected it to reveal the culprit, and a new species of troublesome creatures called Hackers… Provided it was all true, of course.

And now the place she could theoretically get the problem fixed looked more like a grandmother’s cottage than a computer store. Sighing, Melee pressed open the door, adjusting the strap to her laptop bag as she went. What could it hurt?

She pushed up her sunglasses and summoned a smile. It transformed her face into something instantly likeable. “Hello?”

A young man dances down the street along the sidewalk, his movements powered by the techno beats blasting out from the large black headphones he's wearing. His dark brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, bounces about as he struts along. He wears a simple white t-shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans. At his side hangs a black laptop case, stuffed full of accessories and papers.

As he dances about, he frequently pauses, turning to look toward the numbers on the buildings he's passing. He checks these against a number scribbled onto a crumpled napkin he's holding.

Only a few days earlier, he was freaking out over the disappearance of some very important family recipes from his laptop. Aside from this, his computer also seemed a tad glitchy. Explaining this problem to a computer savvy coworker, he was given an address to seek help at.

His slender left hand reaches down to his hip, pressing the pause on his white iPod. Both hands lift to his ears, grasping his headphones to pull them off and let them hang around his neck. The dancing stops and the youth begins to walk calmly down the sidewalk now. His good eye continues to scan the building numbers as he closes in on his target.

"I'm Melee." She glanced down at Adalia's hand, hesitating for a brief moment before clasping it quickly in her own. It was more a touch than a shake, just enough to irritate the enflamed skin of her fingers. She twitched them experimentally as she withdrew. Not so bad today, it seemed. Dropping into the chair beside Adalia, she realised with a start that she'd forgotten to moisturise again.

Her laptop case settled on the floor, Melee hooked her ankles together and tucked them beneath the chair, surveying the boy who hovered near the door. He had wicked hair, she thought with approval. And such strange eyes... It appeared that Adalia wanted to deal with them both at the same time. This struck Melee as a little odd, but - she snuck a look at her sparkly, pink monstrosity of a watch - it wasn't as though she was in any particular hurry, after all.

"Hey," she offered, lifting a hand and smiling widely in greeting.

The young man comes to a complete stop, his body turning toward a rather strange-looking building. Head tilted back, he gazes toward the address of the building, sunlight dancing in the reflection of his soft green eye. Head lowering, the male turns his attention to the door. Of course, opening the door would be the next step, but he hesitates and adjusts his eye patch to make certain that it wouldn't reveal anything that may embarrass him.

"Get over it, Dean," he mutters to himself, then giving a nod of determination. Reminding himself that a fear of new places was irrational, Dean builds the courage to thrust his hand forward and grasp the door. He pulls the door toward himself, but it doesn't open. It merely shakes as he tries to pull on it. Confused, he looks around for the store's hours and instead finds a sign reading "PUSH" toward his right. With a sigh, he pushes the door, entering the shop cautiously.

"Hello?" he calls out timidly, his head poking into the shop further than the rest of his body. Scanning about with his left eye, he finds some people sitting against the wall. Dean straightens out his posture, stepping into the room far enough so that he may close the door behind himself. He looks toward the counter, finding nobody there, and then back toward the folks seated on the chair. "Uhm..." he begins to speak toward the three. "Are you all waiting to get your computers looked at, too?" Seeing Adalia with the others sitting down, he assumes that she's yet another customer of the shop as well.

Melee started as Adalia adressed her, unconsciously fisting her hands in her lap. "Thank you, but it is okay," she smiled wryly. "I have a prescription at home that I should be using. Eczema," she added, by way of explanation. It was surprising that Adalia had noticed the condition in such a short time, but Melee supposed you needed to be observant to deal with people on a regular basis. Speaking of, she really hoped the woman knew how to get her artwork back... Make the hacker regurgitate, or something.

She turned her attention back to Kristian, mouthing his name without realising, just as another boy stepped tentatively into the store. It was a quirky habit she'd developed when processing new information. Melee regarded the newcomer curiously and considered his question, glad that this whole affair wasn't turning out to be a scam. If this really was the place she was looking for, it seemed there was quite an infestation of data-consuming critters...

The Korean girl bobbed her head at the brown-haired fellow and flashed a grin. "I am hoping to find out what is wrong with my machine." She gave her laptop a nudge with her foot.

Dean steps in further, moving toward the chairs where they all sat. His ears practically glow with a red hue, as do his cheeks. One could easily attribute this to embarrassment, as the young man utterly radiated an aura of awkwardness. The way he speaks, the way he carries himself, and even the smile he offers toward the others in a small wordless greeting; all strangely awkward. His right hand lifts and slides along to the back of his head, removing the band that had been holding his hair in a ponytail. By doing this, he allows his hair to fall to the sides of his face to shelter and warm his ears. It was, after all, a bit chilly outside and the small headphones that plug into his iPod don't seem to work very well as ear muffs.

"Hello," he begins in the same timid voice. "The name's Dean." He flashes another awkward smile, bringing both hands to clasp behind his back. His head tilts slightly to the right, his left eye focusing now on Adalia as he frowns. "You're not the normal shopkeeper? Uhm... Does that mean that I'll have to return later?" Dean inquires, his voice soft and sad at the thought of losing more recipes by the time he could get his Mac fixed.

Melee noticed the wince but didn't comment, unsure whether it was a wince of disgust or of sympathy. Adalia seemed like a warm person however, and obviously perceptive, so Melee hoped it was the latter. She gripped the edges of her chair; it wasn't anything to complain about really. At least the condition was good for distracting herself and keeping her broody side at bay.

Melee looked up as - Dean, she recalled - approached. The boy loosened his hair and she blinked at him, fascinated by his pained expression and somewhat uneasy air. Most likely a hacker had eaten something precious of his too. She wondered absently if they were malicious. Judging from Adalia's laugh, these hacker things really did exist, but the website hadn't explained very well, all vague details and gaudy fonts. About the only useful thing on it had been this address.

"Adalia," she began, pausing a moment to catch the woman's attention, "I hope you will forgive me as I do not have any real expertise in this area, but these problems... They are caused by hackers, correct?" She trailed off, partly because she was unsure how to proceed and also because she was a little self-conscious about the way she spoke. Most of Melee's English had been picked up from textbooks. Aloud, her language had the tendency to sound formal and stilted.