[closed] the best introductions are the oddest

[flamberge]

Who: Banagher Links, Kanti Singh, Richard Locke
When: 9/24
Where: By Tuning Towers
What: Best way to start a conversation is by throwing up on someone's shoes. Oh glowing a bit helps, too.

[Today had felt a good day to do some snooping around the tower. Yesterday had been one of those days which made any investigating impossible given the fun incident with Miles. Now, with some time to spare before having to do anything important, Richard had decided to drive on over to the area. A nice and smooth drive it had been, the increasingly loud buzzing aside.

Walking around for a few minutes had caused a small internal scolding for not remembering to bring earplugs. The buzzing sounded as irksome now as it did yesterday. Ah well, it would be tolerated once more. Small annoyances were not enough of a cause to call this look around quits. The desire to know what was causing this and, potentially, why overpowered any desire to get away from the noise. As he walked down the street, Richard once again mused on the irksome noise while wishing he had brought those earplugs.]

Comments

[argents]

[ Instantly, the way Banagher regards the third party changes, even as Kanti relieves him of the rest of the tissues. His expression smooths out into vague surprise and recognition. ]

Mr. Locke?

[ So their situation was still sort of awful and uncomfortable for all parties, but as far as worst-case scenarios went, this was probably the best that they could hope for. All of them were from the network. On impulse, he takes a quick glance around, but no one's outwardly reacting to them, seeing that Kanti at least had some sort of support effort going on. Satisfied with that, he gives her his attention again. ]

It's Banagher, by the way... um, for the both of you, I mean.

[ Not the most graceful answer to supply the both of them with, but relief has made him a little more clumsy with his wording. The general distrust of the people around them (which he's never been any good at, anyway) could come in a little bit. ]

And he means the LSR Clinic, the one Dr. Strider runs. [ He flicks a glance at Richard. ] Right? For people with numbers.

[ Banagher frowns. Don't go green, don't go green(er)... carefully, he puts a hand on her back. ]

[flamberge]

[Is she really that concerned over mere shoes? Even Richard feels sympathetic when someone is panicked to the point to fretting so severely about shoes.]

Dirty shoes do not impair driving ability, you needn't worry nor apologize.

[He REALLY tries to make this sound as gentle and non-intimidating as possible. Not only would his shoes rather avoid a second round of throw up should anything remotely anger-sounding induce further panic, but Kanti didn't need to freak out more than she already had. Really. It's only shoes. Old shoes. Very old shoes. ...Yes, he needs new shoes.

The third member of their little gathering introducing himself definitely rings a bell. Banagher? Yes, they had spoken before. It seems the assumption that they were all in the numbers club had proven correct. Good. And lucky.

A nod gets send Banagher's way. Mentioning numbers had been risky (hence why he'd been avoiding it), but no one seems to be paying them much mind.]

And yes, that's the clinic I'm referring to.

[vetala]

[Kanti cringes and ducks her head. Ugh, clinic. Not that she has anything against Mr. Strider and Mr. Solus, but she was hoping to avoid any sort of medical examination by people she would need to see more than once a year.

And then she realizes that it is so much worse than that, because Banagher just called him Mr. Locke, and Mr. Locke is a chemistry teacher at her school, as far as she knows. She opted to take anatomy following biology instead, saving chemistry for next year. Somehow, that fails to make this any less embarrassing.]

Oh. Mr. Locke? [Her voice squeaks and she cringes, rallies and lifts her hands in a gesture of surrender. Kanti Singh is 100% done with this shit.]

I take that back. I am both horrified and sick. Why am I the only one preoccupied with how horrendous this is?

[She twitches a bit at the hand on her back, but otherwise doesn't move to take it off. It's a grounding gesture, though she's not used to getting them often.]

I'm not sure a clinic would help. I'm feel better anyway. [She puts on a good show, standing up straighter and squaring her shoulders, but her stomach feels empty and there's an ache, like someone clawing at her insides with blunted claws.]

[argents]

[ When she makes the effort to stand up straight, Banagher moves back, lifting his hand away again. He hadn't exactly been sure of the gesture to begin with, and didn't want to patronize her. Still, he can't help continuing to hover close. ]

You don't look like it. [ Welp. ] ...No offense! It's not like we can just control this stuff, so blaming you for it doesn't seem right.

[ Which is how Richard seems to feel about it too, luckily. Despite himself, he can't help a cautious glance upwards at the exterior of the building. The windows were numerous, uniform, and tinted. Combined with the peripheral awareness of the rumbling, he's just about had it. ]

But even if you don't want to go to the clinic, we probably shouldn't stay here. Standing here makes me kind of uneasy, nevermind that you should probably sit down for a while too.

[flamberge]

[Her touch act can't be called bad, but it cannot be called overly convincing, either. It isn't enough to get him to back down, either. Someone having been ill enough to throw up on a stranger's shoes? Yeah, leaving them alone so easily won't be happening.

Richard makes this point clear by his face remaining as firm, if somewhat gentle, as before. Leaving her side won't be happening any time soon, a sentiment seemingly shared by Banagher.]

Banagher's correct. Your appearance aside, standing around as we are in the middle of the sidewalk will draw unwanted attention, if not from pedestrians then from police officers.

[Maybe this a low move, but Richard can't help hope that mention of police involvement may get her to become more agreeable. The underlying motive doesn't make the statement any less true; she had drawn his attention easily enough, after all.]

[vetala]

[The look she shoots them both would probably be sharper if she wasn't feeling so tired and fatigued. As is, it looks mildly put-out and generally irritated. She feels sort of bad though, throwing them that sort of look, and her face screws up in something a little conflicted before she sighs.]

Fine, fine. We can leave at least. I'd rather not go to the clinic just this moment though. It's probably nothing.

[There is a tiny, tiny irrational part of her that wants to stay to be contrary. Maybe stomp her feet a bit. But in the end it is small and Kanti is ultimately rational.]

Sorry. This must all be rather... inconvenient.

[argents]

[ Almost instantly, underneath that look, he regrets his word choice. Even though it was out of concern for her wellbeing and not her appearance, and generally... in favor of them not getting sniffed out by the increasingly freaky cops. ]

This tower doing what it did is what's inconvenient!

[ Okay, maybe not helping their case either, but he's fast approaching a state of not believing in coincidences. ]

Still, are you sure it's alright for you not to go?

[ Not entirely convinced, but ultimately he just frowns pointedly and looks back to Richard for confirmation that he was still willing to stick with them and provide the slightly less urgent getaway car. ]

[flamberge]

[Moving away from here is still progress so Richard can't complain. May a medical trip would behoove her, but ah well. If she's willing to compromise then so is he.]

If she doesn't deem it necessary then we cannot force her.

[She's agreeing to something and this something is enough for now. Whether Banagher shares the sentiment, however, is up in the air. Although, if her condition worsens, it isn't beyond Richard to pick her up and carry her there. Being understanding is one thing; allowing another person to suffer is another.

Now, where to go? Somewhere out of sight preferably. And nearby giving how questionable Kanti's walking abilities appear right now. Hmm that still leaves his car as the best location, unless either of them may have a better idea in mind.]

Would you be willing then to come to my car if only to rest for a moment?

[vetala]

I will go eventually, just... not now. [She says it to Banagher with a look on her face that definitely doesn't say "I am going to put this off as long as possible".]

[She knows she should be grateful, and she is, but mostly she is annoyed that she still feels sick and that this is a situation that is actually happening.

Kanti would like to say something cheeky. Maybe something about how talking to strangers in inadvisable and getting in their cars is even less so, but they aren't really strangers, so it's hard to bring that up as an excuse.]

Fine. Would you be willing to throw those shoes out and let me pay for new ones?

[argents]

[ Well, it was... something. And seeing as how he really doesn't want to force anyone into anything, least of all now, he simply exhales to steady himself. One step at a time seemed like the only way they were going to get out of this.

He still can't help casting a disparaging glance between the two, however. ]

So... compromise?

[flamberge]

[Maybe there's a small frown at her offer. No, taking money from a kid for new shoes isn't happening in this lifetime. Unlike him, most kids aren't fortune enough to have money to blow on needless crap like shoes.

Saying as much now, however, feels a bad idea. Her agreeableness may not last if he opposes this suggestion. Hmm... Maybe actually agreeing wouldn't be necessary so long as he doesn't outright refuse.]

I'll consider it once we're reached my car.

[Which cannot be called a complete lie. He'll more than happily consider it again; the answer will just continue to be a no.]

[vetala]

Yes. Compromise. [She stares at Banagher and offers him a tiny and awkward lopsided smile.] Thank you.

[And then to Mr. Locke.] Both of you. Considering isn't agreeing, but that's fine.

[Because while she would very much like to just buy him new shoes and be done with it, if he's not keen on it she can't bring herself to care too much right now about putting her money where her mouth is.]

[argents]

Don't worry about it. [ Somewhere down the line, when he's in a better position to offer up a healthy dose of mischief, equaled only by a propensity to do-good, Banagher might suggest buying the shoes anywhere and leaving them somewhere conspicuous. There's no fight if he can't say no, right?

But those are thoughts for a day where they probably shouldn't continue to loiter around in the thick of enemy territory. And also in vomit. ]

Anyway, I can at least walk with you to the car. Then you can decide what you want to do from there.

[ Which was hopefully accept a ride home, but he's not counting his chickens before they hatch. ]

and iiii totally used the wrong icon for my last tag /fails

[flamberge]

Not at all.

[Buy him shoes and he's at least buying you lunch in return. Not excepting charity from kids, nope (and anything younger than 24 counts as a kid). He'll actually just hope the whole shoe matter will get forgotten entirely in a few days.

A good way to lead the discussion away from that is to probably tell them where to go.]

It's this way.

[He starts to walk, slowly, back in the direction he'd come from. It's a slow pace so Kanti could easily keep up in her state (and carrying her was always an option if this proves too much).]

[vetala]

I'm probably not going to do that. Not worry about it. [She is going to fret for days. Days.

Good luck with that lunch, though, Richard. Good luck.]

You could stay a little longer, Banagher. I wouldn't mind. [Which is her way of saying 'Please stay and be the buffer between me and the guy with vomit-shoes'.

She follows after Mr. Locke anyway though, because she doubts she can run off now that they're expecting her to rest. She doubts she could run off at all, actually.]

[argents]

Sure. [ In turn, he moves off with the both of them, satisfied that they were moving at all, and that no one was finding anything interest in paying attention to them regardless. Shifting his bag around to his side again, he swivels to take a look around at the other building fronts. ]

I don't think we were going to find out much about that noise by looking at it anyway. We'll have to try again some other time.

[ It's innocuous enough musing. ]

For now, let's see if we can spot a vending machine on the way. Water will help.

[flamberge]

[The mention of exploring the towers reminds Richard of his own purpose for coming here. Sigh. Yup, exploring was not happening today, especially not with vomit all over his shoes.

Oh well, no point in crying over spilled milk or over vomit on shoes.]

Agreed. When vomiting, the best thing one can do is keep themselves hydrated.

[Had there been a vending machine around here? Maybe, maybe not. Although, there had been a convenience store nearby, if memory serves correctly. Ah, yes, it's right up ahead along with Richard's car parked a short distance after it.]

[vetala]

Neither do I, to be honest. It's odd though. It sounds so similar to what I heard before. Maybe I missed something...

[Kanti wants something to bite down on oddly enough, and she's feeling surprisingly hungry for someone who's just thrown up. At least for someone who is her.]

I can pay for my own water, though. Maybe some temporary sandals or something to clean that up.

[She shoots a glance at Mr. Locke's shoes and then at the man himself along with Banagher, as if daring them to stop her. She holds it pretty well for someone still looking pretty damn sick.]

[argents]

To what you heard before? That rumbling? Or buzzing, I guess...

[ Maybe now was the time to invest in crazy straws. Though her second comment gets him to lighten up and laugh, despite the unfunny ridiculousness of the situation leading up to it. ]

I can't imagine Mr. Locke in sandals.

[ Granted, for all he knew, he could be that guy with the vacation sandals and Hawaiian shirt stowed away for summer. But just attempting to envision it makes him have to stifle himself. He has a mission to accomplish and that mission is a vending machine, so he schools his gaze forward again. ]