|Scene Title||Another Student|
|Synopsis||Dion and Richard meet with Scrivner, who agrees to take on Dion as a student. Marius realises he got pickpocketed, and Sitara and Freida come walking in.|
Sultry notes of Jazz waft through the air, along with the fine aroma of over fifty different types off coffee. Ranging from the esoteric (and delicious) Jamaican Blue Mountain to the almost mundane flavor of amaretto, the Java House carries them all. The interior, while somewhat drab compared to Starbucks, is almost entirely in neutral earth tones. The Java House is less like a house than a long hallway, one lined with a variety of trendy peices of art.
The noise from all the shoes of the customers in here treading on the hard wood floors sometimes drowns out the music, but it still produces a rhythm all it's own. The vibration from the tunes, and from the many feet walking on the wooden floor, almost fills the room with a subtle buzz, one that only complements the excellent coffee here.
Having received word from young Mr. Masri that he wished to meet with him, Rufus informed him to catch him at the Java House at around six o'clock, the hour when he'd have gotten away from his law firm and gotten through traffic in his car. The Englishman has already staked out a table for himself, one that could comfortably hold about four or five people. Wearing an expensively tailored three-piece suit of charcoal grey, the man sips a cup of milky Earl Grey tea while he reads the evening edition of the New York times. His black trenchcoat and the long, slender nylon case that conceals his sword has been laid across the seat of the chair next to him.
"This is, like, the place to go to meet people like us," Richard informs Dion in the knowing tones of a teenager who's imparting his secret wisdom to another, pushing the door open with his shoulder as he walks along inside. A turn of his head catches sight of the Englishman at the table, and he tips his chin up, "That's English, over there."
Dion may not be wearing a custom-tailored three-piece suit, but he looks no less aware of the importance of fashion. His jacket looks as though special care is taken to keep it wrinkle-free. Of course poor Richard knows that first-hand, having had to wait while it was quickly hand-steamed after their last class ended. He smiles as the get into the cafe, then replies is his usual gentla voice "Really? I've been here before. Maybe it just comes naturally to us for some reason, to come here?" He follows Richard's gaze, looking curious.
It's when the door opens and he hears the traffic of the streets growing just a little louder for a moment that Rufus looks up. He glances over his paper and the rim of his tea cup. Ah, the boys are here. That means an end to getting to read his paper. Calmly, the Englishman folds it up and rests it across the table, and he has another drink of tea before setting down his cup and waving to beckon them over.
"Maybe it's owned by the God of Coffee or something," suggests Richard with a shrug of one shoulder, heading across the room at an easy step, dressed as usual in his casual denim and croc-leather outfit. Around a table tables and chairs, and then he drops himself down into a chair, introducing easily, "English, this is Dion— Neon, this is English."
Dion smirks slightly to Richard's suggestion. "Do you think there is one? I mean, a god specifically of coffee? Or do you think it's someone that covers all the popular hot drinks?" Who knows, after all. He follows along after Richard, his gait as unapologetically effeminate as the rest of him. Rufus is given a smile when they're introduced. "It's nice to meet you, Mr….?" Look! A teenager with manners! Don't faint now.
If he even notices how fey this new boy is, Rufus doesn't even bother to acknowledge it. He briefly smiles in return and offers his hand across the table when Dion seats himself. "Scrivner," he says briskly. "Rufus Scrivner. Pleasure to meet you, Dion." His eyes flicker from Richard, then he looks back. "Young Mr. Masri tells me that you are interested in lessons?"
Richard's hand lifts in an uncertain gesture, asking of the man across the table, "Hey, is there a God of Coffee, English? I wonder where coffee originally came from…" Leaning back a bit, he adds, "Neon keeps saying he'd be useless in a fight."
Dion reaches a bit to accept Rufus' hand. His is very recently manicured and very soft from careful and frequent attention to moisturizing. Then, once he's straightened again, he replies "Yes. Richard tells me I'm interested in lessons, too." His expression is that of someone who might be humoring his friend.
Dion does smiles towards Richard, though.
The only betrayal of surprise is a slow blink of his eyes. Taking that kid's hand is like taking a woman's hand. The polite smile never wavers, however, and pulling back, Scrivner reaches for his cup of tea before glancing at Richard. "Not to my knowledge, no," he muses. "But if there were, it's probably one of the Atzlanti. Now then, young Mr. Dion, you… ah… have probably never attempted any sort of self-defence lesson before, have you?" He tilts his head at an angle. "Perhaps fencing?"
"I'm not," Richard states flatly, pointing his fingers in a gun-shape towards Dion, "Going to just let you prance around until some sort've monster eats you, dude. Because it will, sooner're later."
Dion tosses his head a bit, chin held high, at one of Richard's comments. "I do NOT prance. That would be undignified." Though, he does add after a moment "Unless the music called for it, of course." He gets himself settled into a chair, his legs crossed one over the other and his hands resting primly on his lap. Then though, he purses his lips. "Fencing. I hadn't considered fencing." Gay blade jokes, anyone?
Noooo, thank you. Rufus inclines his head shortly at Richard's words, agreeing with them. "Masri's right," he levelly says. "It's good to know how to defend yourself /somehow,/ and something about you tells me that fencing would be a good start for you. I've several foils we can use until you get one of your own, and you'll want to look into getting a suitable rapier, of course. Later we can move on to other styles of swordsmanship." He has decided that it is probably best to avoid saying 'swordplay' around this kid. Ever.
"Uh huh." Richard's eyes roll in his head as he leans back, elbows hooking over the edge of the chair he's seated in, "Fencing? Isn't that, like, with those bendy metal sticks? I guess the same thing works with, like, a real sword, though."
Marius has arrived.
Dion sighs a bit. "I know I have to defend myself somehow, but I doubt I'll ever be very god at it. I think I'll be better as a distraction for others. Oh, wait." he says they, his forehead wrinkling faintly. "Fencing has those things you put on your head. The helmets. They must wrreak havoc on the hair." He worries briefly at his bottom lip, this apparently potentially being a deal-breaker.
Marius moves to the counter, ordering his coffee like he always does. Which seems like a pretty standard thing, till it gets to paying, when he suddenly does the check your pockets dance, breast, breast, hip, hip, butt butt, breast breast, hip, hip. It might be a suggestive dance on a dance floor but at the cash register it can only mean one thing.
It's a pleasant evening in the Java House. Rufus Scrivner sits at a table big enough for four or five with a pair of teenage men, impeccably dressed as ever and holding a cup of tea in his hand. He studies Dion for a moment or two, brow furrowing, and he momentarily looks… pained. The smile takes on a brief flicker of strain before he gets over it, calmly saying, "My dear boy, some sacrifices are worth making. We are not gentlemen who cower from a little hardship, are we?" Then he gives Richard a /look./ And then his eyes catch on Marius, and he frowns, recognising the man quite easily. "….. Forest?"
Ohjesuschrist. Richard's head falls back, looking at the ceiling as if perhaps hoping that one of the Gods will show up to smack his friend upside the back of his head. Sadly for him, no such thing occurs. Perhaps the God of Coffee is offended that he hasn't ordered anything today. Or that he usually just gets it black. "Neon," he points out dryly, "/Blood/ being sprayed from your gaping wounds will fuck your hair up even more."
Dion just looks at Rufus, a little longer than he really should. Apparently, some sacrifices are greater than others. Messing with the hair? Horrifying, it would seem. He may, in fact, be the sort of gentleman who cowers from some hardships. On the other hand, Richard makes an excellent point and his eyes widen. "Nevermind how hard it is to get out of Cashmire or leather." If he's noticed the looks, he's ignored them skillfully.
Marius looks over at Rufus, "Something apparently happened to my wallet….it looks like I got pick pocketed.
"Masri is wise beyond his years," Rufus says solemnly, oblivious to the look he's getting from Dion. Either that or he's just ignoring it as well. He stares at Marius for another moment, blinks a few times, then he solemnly says, "You should really be more vigilant, Forest. Though I'm surprised. You usually /are./" He slowly stands up, reaching to his pocket to pull out his own wallet. "How much do you need?"
Marius says, "apparently Four Seventy Five" He looks a little sheepish, "I know I had it just an hour ago….on my way back from the east side.""
Oh, great, now Richard is worrying about his jacket! How does one get stains out of sacred crocodile leather? Hopefully it just doesn't stain. A snort of breath, "You'll just have to deal with the mask-head for training. I'm sure you can hit the salon right after, dude." Then Rufus is talking to someone else, and he looks over, a brow lifting, "Hey! Aren't you the guy from Coney Island?"
Dion glances over towards Marius, to see who Rufus is speaking with, and also stares at him, some. Chances are, it's not for the same reason he was looking at Rufus. Marius is pretty. He looks back to Richard then, before replying "I'll have to." to the salon comment. "So any practicing will have to be near one. I mean, a good one." Yes, he might be serious.
He pulls a fiver from his wallet, and Rufus arches an eyebrow at Marius. "Do you recall anyone bumping into you?" he inquires, before he glances down at Dion. There's a slow blink at the boy, and he says, "I shall leave it to you to find a suitable practising space. I am not fussed, personally, as to where it takes place."
Marius waves his hand, "A pretty teenager, dressed a little like a prostitute" He shrugs, "I usually don't let that happen though…I am awefully surprised I got taken." He smiles to Richard, "Yeah I think we met."
"Yeah," Richard's head tilts a little to one side, fingers snapping once, "Yeah, when that big kelp thing came out've the water." Satisfied, he rolls his eyes to Dion, "Don't be such a priss. Best party'll muss you up a little, dude."
Richard keeps making sense. Dion looks at him for a moment, then his expression concedes the point. "I suppose so…" he replies. Then, gesturing towards Marius, he asks the two at his table "One of us?" It seems more just confirming it than really wondering.
"He is," Rufus confirms. Money in hand, he walks up to the counter to lay it down and cover Marius' bill, and then he turns away. But as he walks back to the table, he says, "Do come and join us, Forest. Get acquainted." He sweeps back down into his seat, smoothing down his suit jacket. Not one word will he say about Marius' lack of wariness around a pretty girl. Nope. Not one. "Gentlemen, that is Marius Forest. A son of Apollo. Forest, this is Richard Masri and Dion. Children of Sobek and…" He stops for a moment, staring at Dion. He ventures a guess, "Aphrodite?"
Marius raises an eyebrow at the Aphrodite commit, taking up a seat as Rufus invites him, "I've known a scion of two of Aphrodite before."
"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Forest." Dion says with a smile, remaining seated with one leg crossed over the other and his hands resting primly in his lap. He offers one to Marius, though. "I enjoy watching you on the news." Then Rufus makes his guess, and he purses his lips. "No, my father is Dionysus." he clarifies.
What? Richard leans over a bit closer to Dion, asking even as he regards Marius with a somewhat bemused question, "That guy's on the news?" Someone doesn't watch the news very often, apparently.
"Ahhhhh… I see," Rufus says, giving Dion another long, speculative look with faintly narrowed eyes. Then he glances at Marius, giving his head a nearly imperceptible shake. After a drink of tea, he adds in explanation to Richard, "He's the weatherman. Though he's brilliant enough at his job to get it right about… oh… twenty percent of the time, I'd say?"
Marius raises his eyebrow, "Meterology is a oft misunderstood science, but perfect weather prediction is much more in Apollo's purview, unless of course someone messes with it.
Dion chuckles quietly to Richard. "He's on the news, yes." he replies. "I think meteorology is a fascinating science." he replies, his voice gentle and decidedly feminine.
"Oh, the weatherman. What's Nick Cage like?" It's an apparently innocent question, at least unless someone notices that hint of mischief behind Richard's eyes.
Rufus glances swiftly at Dion again, then back at Marius. He blinks again, his own eyebrows arching, and then he calmly muses, "I would call it a science that's never been truly understood, personally. So many weathermen have disappointed me in the past."
Marius nods slowly, "Well It is quite an exact science. Nicholas Cage? Never met him."
It looks as though Dion has no idea who that is, either. He asks Richard "Do you think we should get coffee, so they don't get angry for us for taking up the chairs? I don't mind buying."
Richard's admittedly-obscure joke flies over everyone's so he just shakes his head a little. "Hm? Well, I do buy all the— oh, you're buying? Sure. I'll take a hazelnut mocha and a plate of biscotti." Hey, when someone else is footing the bill, he's good with it!
Sitara arrives from Soho - Tribeca - New York City.
Sitara has arrived.
Sadly, Rufus hasn't got much of a sense of humour to begin with… nor is he all that up to date on a lot of the movies out there. He peers at Richard shaking his head, but he shrugs to himself. Content to sip his tea, he falls quiet for a moment or two. It's an otherwise pleasant evening, somewhere around six o'clock. The four men are seated at a table that could conceivably hold one more.
Marius sits off to one side with the other three, as they console him over his cofee. He still look confused about the Cage comment.
Dion smiles, then excuses himself politely to head to the counter to order drinks for himself and Richard.
Sitara walks into the cafe and starts heading for the counter, even as her gaze slides towards those at the table and she beams. "Oh hey! It's Richy Rich and Ass Stick Man! Hi guys!"
"It's Loud Mouthed Woman!" Richard twists to look back over his chair, a grin curving to his lips despite his words as he brings a hand up in a gesture of greeting, nodding up towards her, "What's the word, hot stuff?"
One eye scrunches up for a moment, and Rufus presses his mouth to a tight, flat line. "Miss Sitara, if you please," he drily says. "Reign in your exuberance. Or at least put a muzzle on it." Then he has another sip of tea.
Freida has arrived.
Marius raises an eyebrow at Rufus, "Is there a problem with Exuberence? I kinda like it.
Sitara laughs. "I'll get a muzzle as soon as you have a stick-ectomy, Brit boy," she says before grinning at Richard. "Sadly, the word for tonight is /bored/."
From the counter, Dion keeps part of an eye on what's going on with the others. He's quiet, though.
"You're always bored," Richard accuses, hands lifting as if throwing off responsibility for the whole matter, "You need a hobby or something, swear t'god."
Freida struts in, wearing a black low cut top, tight black jeans, heels, and a jacket. She's still on a new attitude high, flipping a lock of hair out of her face artfully. After a quick glance around, she waves at Dion and makes her way over to him. "What's goin on, Dion?"
Sitara grins at Richard, arching a brow. "Not always." She looks to Marius then. "Hey, dude, you look familiar. Oh! I know where I know you from! I saw this dude drop a wallet. Well, really he was trying to throw it away and missed, but he was in a hurry or something. Was gonna take it to the cops, yanno? But I think…" She digs out a wallet and peeks at the ID, then Marius, then the ID. "It is yours!" She flips it towards him and gives an apologetic smile. "Sorry dude. If you had any cash in there, it's way long gone." She orders a drink then, asking for it to be taken to the table, and she heads over, and nudges Richard's chair lightly. "Scooch out a lil'."
Rufus looks back at Marius and arches his eyebrows back at him, flatly stating, "It's not quite so flattering when someone calls you Ass Stick Man from across a room." But Brit Boy he can live with, apparently, as he finishes off his cup of tea. Holy crap, it's the invasion of the teenagers. He glances up at Freida, studying her curiously.
Dion's attention turns towards Freida then, and she smiles. He does take a moment to look over her clothes, then says to her "You are desperately in need of a splash of color." And to be helpful, he goes into a jacket pocket and takes out a perfectly folded neckerchief. He unfolds it to show a yellow background covered with red rosebuds. "Here." he says as he moves to put it on for her.
Marius blinks, catching the wallet, "Um…thanks…I would offer you a reward but…" He looks at the empty place where cash was. "Wow it is turning into a virtual club house tonight….Rufus you brought the boar repellent right?"
Richard's foot pushes down against the floor, scooting the chair out a bit obediently even as he brings his hand up in a wave towards the newest arrival to the cafe— a grin curving his lips as he observes in amused tones, "Well, hell, everyone I wanted to introduce to everyone's in the same place. That's convenient."
Freida eyes the neckerchief like a vampire eyeing a cross. "Um." But, it's Dion, so she acquiesces to his demands. "Okay. I'm not used to having this much color on me. It's pretty," she adds, noncomittally. She glances over. "Hey, isn't that Fonzie over there?"
Sitara grins and shrugs at Marius. "No worries." She sits herself down across Richard's lap and looks at Rufus, amused. "Dude, remember what we talked about with lightening up?" She looks to Richard. "We have got to get this guy drunk A.S.A.P. Think he'd loosen up then?"
Yes, Dion is not to be deterred, when it comes to Freida's fashion sense. Or lack thereof until recently. "There's nothing wrong with color, Freida." he tells her as it becomes his turn to order. "And yes. He wanted me to meet someone. What would you like?" he asks as he places his and Richard's order.
"I'm afraid not," Rufus says, very quietly, with mock, dry lamentation. "We may have to get up and flee in a moment here." His pale eyes flicker back to Sitara, and he finally permits a smirk to tug at the corners of his lips. "How could I forget? Good evening, Miss Sitara. It's a pleasure to see you again."
"A small mocha," Freida replies, simply. She glances over at Richard and company again. "I wonder who all those people are. Nobody can say he hangs out with gangbangers, after looking at that crew."
Richard's personal space is suddenly invaded by Sitara, not that he seems to object very much; one arm curling itself around her in subtle possession, his head tilting in to brush a kiss beneath her ear before he looks back across the table with a smirk to Rufus's dry observations. "We're not that bad, English."
Marius looks at Rufus and shakes his head, "I should head out before the fireworks begin…you need backup man, you got my number." He nods to Dion, and Richard, "nice to meet you all."
Sitara hooks an arm around Richard's neck as she gets comfy, then she's grinning at Rufus again. "You should listen, you know. I'm really very wise in my own way."
Dion adds Freida's order to his, then smiles. "Apparently, this is 'the' place for our sort to converge socially." he replies to her. "Mr. Scriver's the Brit in the suit, and the blond gentleman is Mr. Forest. I don't think I know the new girl."
Looking up and nodding his head, Scrivner faintly smiles. "Do take care of yourself, Forest," he says in farewell. Then he turns to arch his eyebrows at Richard, and he drily says, "You could be worse, yes. That much is true."
And… he thought he'd get to finish his tea, but apparently Rufus's cell phone starts ringing. He doesn't have time to do much but answer it, talk quietly a moment, then sigh in agitation. "Emergency," he says in explanation, as he sweeps up his coat and goes trotting for the door. "Masri, Sitara, Dion, stay out of trouble!" Fleeeee.
Any additional notes fall to the bottom.