Return of the Stalker Lunch Lady


scrivner_icon.jpg dee_icon.jpg richard_icon.jpg sitara_icon.jpg

Scene Title Return of the Stalker Lunch Lady
Synopsis Dee, Richard, Scrivner and Sitara bump into each other in the Java House and discuss matters at the high school.

The Java House - Soho - New York City

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.

Dee needed to get a little paperwork done. And by 'paperwork', she means a little putting things where they should be virtually. Her hefty PDA is in one hand, and she's watching it as she sips her mocha. Caffeine gooood… Of course, Dee isn't pushing any buttons or anything, except for show. Ah, wireless…

Yay for coffee. Not that Rufus Scrivner particularly likes coffee, but he does enjoy the atmosphere with a good cup of tea. Stepping through the open door, the Englishman glances about while he wanders up to the counter, queuing up and laying down money on the counter. Of course he finds Dee across the Java House. The faintest of smirks tugs at the corners of his mouth, somewhat wry. Now whose bank account is she destroying this afternoon? He's not sure he wants to know. Cup of tea in hand, he turns away and ventures up to the lady, leaning in towards her to murmur, "Hands in the air, Miss Floros. You're nicked."

The brief rumble of a motorcycle outside is cut off as it parks on the curb, some change is deposited in the meter, and then the door's pushed open by Richard's hand. A helmet's tucked under one arm as he strolls within, meandering towards the counter at a casual stroll, head turning at the same time to check for any familiar faces. Oh. Hey. There's one, it's English.

Dion is seated so that she can watch the door, though her attention's on her handheld just now. Until Rufus speaks, and then she chuckles. Looking up at him, she says with a smile "Never happen. You don't want to catch me, and 'they' can't." Mortals, presumably.

Dee is seated so that she can watch the door, though her attention's on her handheld just now. Until Rufus speaks, and then she chuckles. Looking up at him, she says with a smile "Never happen. You don't want to catch me, and 'they' can't." Mortals, presumably.

With a jerk of his shoulder, Rufus slides the weight of his heavy sword case off of his shoulder and rests it on the floor by a table leg. Then he follows suit, easing his weight into a chair next to Dee, one which keeps his back to a wall. "You've such a charming arrogance. Have I ever told you this?" he lightly counters, his smirk broadening. Once comfortable, he crosses his legs beneath the table by resting an ankle over the opposite knee, and he sips his tea. A glance darts around the coffee house, and finding Richard up at the counter, he lowers his cup and raises his hand to wave in silent greeting. Look, it's the sullen little Colonist.

Sitara enters a minute after Richard, and she's looking around after she steps inside. She doesn't know Rufus or Dee, so they're passed over, at least for now, and her gaze settles on Richard. "That skull on your bike is tacky you know," she calls out to him, smirking a little.

"Oi, English." Richard's hand comes up in a casual salute over in the direction of Rufus, a cocky little smirk curving to his lips before he turns to order his coffee— then that call reaches him, and he twists at the waist, looking back over his shoulder with a brow's lift, "Bullshit it's tacky. You're just jealous, hot stuff."

You haven't, but that's alright." Dee replies to Rufus. "I already knew." she adds with a wink. She looks over to see who Rufus recognizes, looking curious. It'll take her a few to place Richard though, perfect memory or not. "Who's that?"

There's a very quiet sigh at that nickname. A tic at the corner of one eye. "That," Rufus calmly says, "is Richard Masri." As if saying the kid's name alone should be explanation enough for anything. He clears his throat, and he takes another sip of his tea. "He's one of our … ah… sorts. We can speak freely around him."

Sitara snorts softly. "Jealous? Nah. Though I might steal the bike and ditch the skull," she says to Richard before she glances at the barista. "Hey, you. Get me something hot'n caramely. A lot of it, 'kay?" she says with a bright smile. Her gaze then slides to Rufus and Dee, her head tilting.

"Hey, I fought hard for that skull," Richard replies with a roll of his eyes, reaching out to loop an arm around Sitara as she steps up to the counter; laying down his money with the other hand, his simple black coffee (grande) set down for him to claim. "I'm gonna go harass English, c'mon over when you get your drink, eh?"

Dee ohhhs. "Hm. I've seen him before." Her forehead wrinkles a bit as she fills in the blanks. "Ahhh… High school. I hate teenagers." She says with a sigh. "Saw a bunch of them there when I was having a look around."

His own amusement deepens, and if Rufus is aware of the impending irritation coming his way, he doesn't let him snatch and savour his one brief moment of zen. Sipping milky tea, enjoying the fact he's not in the office and nothing is blasting down the door and trying to kill them all. "Did something happen while you were looking around?" he quietly asks, glancing over at Dee.

"English?" Sita peers over at the other two, then she shrugs, then nods. "Yeah, sure. Be there in a sec."

The cup've joe in hand to help him wake up after a long day of suffering at school - ahem - Richard steps away from Sita to meander his way through the crowded coffee-house towards the table where the pair have settled. "'Ey, English," he greets casually, reaching out to pull a chair out from it, flipping it around and straddling it backwards, "Who's your—" Hey. Wait a second. He looks at Dee for a moment, brow furrowed, "Weren't you that weird chick at the school?"

"Do you remember that girl that was killed at the school, by the angels?" Dee replies to Rufus. "A bunch of kids there tried to raise her spirit recently. And succeeded. Following that, they were attacked by those angel-lites. The balls with the lasers?" She smiles at Richard. "Hello again."

"I've seen those before…" And lost consciousness a couple of times because of them. Rufus does not particularly care to remember the messy explosions. "You two have met? Richard, this is Dee Floros, a friend of mine. She often works with me whenever trouble comes calling." As he's already pointed out who the kid is to Dee, he doesn't bother repeating himself there. His eyebrows arch, and he glances between the pair, as if expecting something to blow up again.

Sitara grabs her cup and drops an appropriate number of bills on the counter in payment, then she heads towards Rufus and Dee's table, as promised.

"Yeah, we met one night…" Richard's chin dips in an easy nod to the pair, a hint of wry amusement crossing his features as he regards Dee for a moment; leaning back a bit then, a sip of coffee before he offers casually, "This's Sitara. Sita, this is English and, uh, Dee."

Dee looks towards Sitara then, and nods a greeting to the girl. "Hi." she says, then sets down ger PDA. It's a very top end model. "How's things?"

Having watched the girl's approach out of the corners of his eyes, Rufus smoothes down his suit jacket and then stands when Sitara comes to the table. The corner of his eye twitches again, but his smile is impeccably polite. Nevermind his jaw's a bit tight. "Good day, Miss Sitara. My actual name is Rufus Scrivner, so if you please, Rufus or Mr. Scrivner will suffice. Please, sit and join us?"

Sitara nods to Rufus, then Dee, then grins at the former. "Can't just call you English? And dude, I don't call /anyone/ mister, not even my dad," she says, tugging out a chair and flopping down into it.

Dee looks to Rufus. "Kids. No respect these days." says the woman in black riding leathers. "How's school?" she asks Richard.

"It's school," Richard shrugs one shoulder, "No more angels lately, but some've my teammates got drowned…" A bit of a frown at that, one hand sliding to rub the side of his neck, "…and we had some mirror dopplegangers or something during lunch."

"Nnnnngh." It's a very quiet grunt in his teeth, and the smile fades as he reseats himself at the table and turns his eyes to Richard. Arching his eyebrows, falling quiet to listen, Rufus asks, "What exactly happened, Masri?" His gaze flickers to Sitara a moment, watching her steadily for her reaction to mention of the supernatural.

Sitara doesn't bat a lash at the supernatural chatter, though she does arch a brow. "Dopplegangers? You didn't mention those before. Those are the ones who look like other people, right?" she asks Richard.

Dee's forehead furrows, at the news about thedrowning. "I'm sorry to hear that." Hearing about the doppelgangers makes her frown more deeply. "Lovely. I've faught those. They suck a lot."

"Oh, she's with the hindus," Richard adds with a sideways head-tilt towards Sitara, before admitting wryly, "Jumped out of the mirrors and scratched up all the pretty girls. They eventually just sort've vanished." He holds a bit back there, but there's some information he wants to look into himself. "What I'm more worried about is that some've the— some people seem to be buying into the Order's bullshit."

Rufus blinks a few times, glances at Sitara again, then smiles briefly at her. He doesn't comment upon her ancestry, however, as it's not nearly as important as finding out more about what's going on at the high school. "Go on," he says quietly. "What's happening?"

Sitara nods slightly at Richard's explanation about her, then shrugs to Rufus. "Any particular mirrors? Is it just happening at the school, or…?"

Dee nods when Richard explains about Sitara, and continues to listen as she drinks her mocha.

"Just some've the other scions at the school, they're saying that maybe the Order is right, and talking about dealing with them diplomatically…" Richard grimaces, bringing the cup of coffee up in his hand and murmuring to the surface, "Saying they might be right, because I've turned into some sort've monster or something since I met my father." A sip's taken, and he shakes his head before offering quietly to Sita, "Just the school, as far as I know, and the once."

His mouth tightens, and for a moment or two, Rufus sits very quietly. The Englishman scowls, and after awhile, he says solemnly, "I must admit to having some … growing pains… around that very issue myself. It's been my experience, Masri, that there are three sides to every argument. Your side, their side and then the truth. From what I understand of this Order of Divine Glory, there are people and possibly Scions within it who are calling down a Titan's angels to wreak havoc and kill teenagers. You are absolutely justified in defending yourself, /however,/ here is something you may wish to consider. Are you certain that all of your enemies are willingly within this Order? It is very easy for some of our kind to dupe, coerce and mentally bewitch a mortal mind to commit atrocities."

Sitara nods to Richard, then starts sipping at her coffee, ignoring the fact that it's still steaming hot.

Dee purses her lips. "We all change some, when we learn what we are. Well, I don't think I changed all that much, but I was already living my path." About the Order, she says "They've convinced some of us that we're all evil and need to be destroyed. One girl was firing at people from the top of a building with a rifle. The problem is, they have unwitting dupes. If the others at your school learn that the hard way? It'll be a rough lesson but maybe one they have to learn that way. And hopefully they live through it."

"I'm sure they're not, honestly," Richard rolls one shoulder in a shrug, "I mean, if they can make Gayle'n Matt question shit, I'm sure they can get a bunch of dumb people to follow with them — a bunch of fruits in ugly robes can believe anything they want, as far as I'm concerned."

At the comment about the sniper, he looks over to Dee with a surprised look, and then a scowl, "Jesus Christ. Uh. No pun intended. Yeah, I'm just worried that they'll get hurt or — you know — worse."

"Whatever you are, I highly doubt you are a monster. If you were, you would not be so bothered now by your peers' accusations," Rufus calmly says, watching Richard closely, only briefly glancing at Dee. Then he looks back. "But in my experience, it is wise to begin questioning and to take a closer look at the situation before going in with guns blazing. For us, mistakes lead to the loss of innocent lives, and people die when we instead could have saved them. It's not an easy path, I'll grant you. It is much, much more efficient to just… slaughter them all and let the gods of death sort them out. But is that right? Is that what your parent would want? Most importantly, is that what /you/ would want for yourself?"

He lets that sink in, and then Scrivner quietly says, "That said… You are absolutely right to stand against the Order. Anyone who would subvert the will of others and encourage death and destruction has, if you will please pardon the crudeness, lost his shit."

Sitara is content to be quiet for the moment, sipping and listening, glancing between the three others.

Dee considers for a long moment. "Yeah, there are a lot of stupid people. More to the point, there are a lot of stupid people that want someone to tell them what to think and believe. And, of course, there are a LOT of unhappy Judeo-Christians around, now that it's coming out more that other gods aren't just myth. It makes for a dangerous time all around." After another moment of consideration, "If they really want to try that, and see what happens, you have to let them. Just… be there to help when they're in trouble. Even if they don't know you're there."

"If I was going to go in guns blazing, I would've by now," Richard observes rather dryly, one hand lifting to rub against the side of his face, fingers pushing up against his temple as he leans his head against his palm. Dee's words cause his nose to wrinkle up a bit in a grimace, "They don't seem to want to have jack shit to do with me. They can make their own mistakes, but I'm just worried they're going to fuck up any chances of saving Hopper in the process."

"Yes, well. At their age, I was really quite convinced I knew absolute right, absolute wrong and how to distinguish every shade of grey in between," Rufus drily says. "I'm in agreement with Miss Floros. It would be … heroic of you to be there to help them, to protect them from the shadows, just in case something were to go wrong. Of course, it's your choice entirely whether or not you will do that. As for your friend… Have you had any leads into his whereabouts?"

"Who's Hopper?" Sita asks as she leans back, drawing one foot up into the chair, an arm wrapping loosely around her knee as it's hugged to her chest.

Dee hmmms thoughtfully. "Well, sometimes being the good guy means being there to save people despite themselves. We need all the heroes we can get, for the job we have to do down here. So long as you don't think they might turn and come after us instead, be the hero. If they look like they're going go the way of the Titanspawn, then they'll have to be dealt with."

"We might not have any choice," admits Richard with a shake of his head, "They're the ones who were contacted by the Order in the first place, they can probably find them and get in. We could follow them, make sure they don't get hurt and get Hopper in the process— I just don't want to end up fighting them in the process."

A look to Sita, and he explains, "A friend of mine. They dragged him off."

Thinking that one over for awhile, Rufus slowly rubs the back of his hand across his mouth. "If following your peers isn't feasible," he muses, "you should consider capturing one of the cultists and questioning him. Try to wake up the man or woman while you're at it, break the spell if one has been cast over him. Following your friends is all well and good, but an ally or a source of information on your side is even better."

"Seriously? Suck squared," Sita says, nose wrinkling. "You want some help getting him back, let me know? Haven't had a good rumble in a while."

Dee nods to Ru's suggestion. "Really, you just do what you have to, to protect your own." Then someone at another table who'd been there the whole time starts getting ready to stand and leave. The remains of her mocha is finished. "Sorry to cut some of this short, but I have something I need to do." She stands, and says to Rufus jokingly "Don't wait up, honey."

"If I can find them… mm. Actually," Richard murmurs thoughtfully, fingertips drumming over the side of his coffee cup as he considers something, "I might be able to track some of those cultists from the warehouse, actually. It's worth a try." A turn of his head, a brief grin crooked to Sita, "Might take you up on that."

"'Later," he offers to Dee, then he pauses, looking to Rufus with both brows lifting and a broad grin curving his lips, "Two of them? You dog."

"There you are then. A plan of action," Scrivner says, looking rather pleased at that. His hand goes very still as he reaches for his tea, and startled, he looks up at Dee. He's been so taken offguard by her quip that he forgets to stand as a gentleman should. He just stares a moment, working his mouth silently, before he manages an awkward, "Good bye, Miss Floros. I…er…" His cheeks had gone a touch pink. Hearing Richard? He goes red in the face. "She's only being cheeky," he mutters, scowling, before he takes a quick drink of tea.

Dee looks terribly pleased at likely embarrassing Rufus, then heads out just before the guy she was watching. Okay, so maybe she wasn't there just for the coffee.

Dee goes to Soho - Tribeca - New York City.

Dee has left.

Sitara's lips twitch a little at Dee's departing words to Rufus, then she flat out laughs when Rufus blushes. "Oh, I like her," she decides before nodding to Richard. "I hope you do. I'm feeling /lazy/. Which normally is a good thing, but not when it leads to /boredom/."

"Uh huh." Richard's grins slyly as he manages to get Rufus to blush, "Don't worry, English, it'll be our secret. I won't mention anything to your girl." A bit of a chuckle shakes his shoulders, the coffee cup brought up so he can take a sip of the heated java, gaze hooding in a thoughtful fashion, "I'll try and get everyone together, maybe we can head down and check stuff out. I'll introduce you, too, Sita."

He pauses for a moment, "So any word on Ragnarock, English?"

Judging by the flat expression on the Englishman's face, Rufus is not all that grateful. He regards the younger man across from him with a tight press of his mouth, and he sighs like some harried, tired parent faced with a kid's idiocy. After another sip of tea, he calmly clears his throat and recollects his composure, as if nothing had ever at all happened. "None so far, I'm afraid. However, no news is good news. I did happen to see your cheeky advertisement on Craigslist. Did you receive any replies?"

"Advertisement? And speaking of introductions…Who's your pop, Rufus? Or mom, whichever," Sita asks curiously, shifting so she can prop her feet up in the chair Dee abandoned.

The harried expression on the englishman's face only gives strength to the rogue's grin on the teenager's lips. "Just a few crank e-mails," Richard admits with a shake of his head, "Nothing solid, unfortunately. I'll let you know if I actually get anything serious… and apparently there's some prophecy about the end of the world, hotness."

Rufus inclines his head in acceptance, taking another sip of his tea, when his eyes flicker to the young lady at the table. He clears his throat, and quietly, he says, "My father is the Norse god of justice, Tyr. And indeed, there is a prophecy concerning the coming of Ragnarok. If you've a piece of paper and a pen I could borrow, I'll write it down for you."

"So you put an ad on craigslist regarding the end of the world?" Sita thinks about that for a moment. "Huh." She grins and shakes her head to Rufus. "Sorry, no paper or pen. And Tyr? Never heard of him, sorry. I'll look him up though."

"While we're talking about parents and all…" Richard hesitates a moment, before asking hopefully, "Do you know any other, uh, Egyptians, English? I don't really know all that much about my family, dad was kind've— in a hurry, you know?"

Rufus lightly waves his hand in dismissal, not at all insulted that no one's heard of his father. Teenagers never know all that much about the good stuff anyway. Turning his eyes to Richard, he contemplates that for a moment, and then he nods his head. "I know a daughter of Thoth, yes," he says slowly. "Her name is Halima." He shifts about, reaching a hand into the pocket of his suit jacket, and he pulls out his cell phone. "I've her number if you want to get in touch with her."

Sitara glances back to Richard. "He's not a curious person, is he?" she asks, tilting her head towards rufus.

"Yeah, that'd be great, if you could" Richard reaches into his jacket to pull out his own cell phone, before smirking back over to Sitara, "I think he's mostly just praying that we go away soon and leave him to his tea."

Rufus smirks at Sitara's words, and calmly, he says, "One thing at a time, Miss Sitara. I /am/ curious about your parentage. As I am about yours, Masri." He finds the number, then he recites it, and he closes up his cell phone before tucking it back into his jacket pocket. "Now then. Which gods do we have to thank for the likes of you two, hmmm?"

"Dude, you two know each other and you didn't ask who his dad was? Man, that's kinda…" Sita trails off without finding a good word, and she shrugs. "Shiva and Parvati for me."

Richard's thumb moves over the keypad of his phone as the number's recited. "Thanks," he says, flipping the phone closed and tucking it away into an inner pocket of that reptilian-leather jacket. To Sita, he admits, "I kinda ambushed him'n his girl when they were flying one day." Back to Rufus, "Sobek."

"We've met only twice previously," Rufus calmly explains, arching his eyebrows at Sitara. "The first, as he mentioned, was not a meeting where he explained he was at all like myself. The second meeting… Well, there were far more important things to discuss, such as the end of the world, and time was limited."

Sitara ahhs and nods at the explanations. "Fair enough, I guess. What about your second girl who just left? Who's responsible for her?"

"That offer of training still open? I mean— I'm alright, I've been fighting most've my life," Richard admits, one hand lifting in a vague gesture, "One've my friends can't defend himself worth shit, though." At the question, he glances back as well, to where Dee disappeared.

The man's cheeks flush with another touch of colour, and Rufus clears his throat. "Miss Floros is not my girl, despite whatever fancy she might take into her head," he drily says. "She's the daughter of Hermes, the Greek god of messengers, thieves and tricksters. And certainly, Masri. If a friend of yours needs help, you have my number. We can arrange a meeting."

"Okay, if you say so. Then care to explain why you call him Masri? I like Richy Rich better, personally, but not sure where you get Masri from," Sita asks.

"That's my last name," Richard replies with a roll of his eyes, "I think it's a British thing." He leans forward a little, brows lifting curiously, "Is it a British thing?"

"It is," Rufus says, faintly smirking. "When I was a boy, I referred to most of my schoolmates by their last names. It was rare to actually use the given name." It's a British high society thing. He glances back and forth between the two teenagers, takes one last drink of tea, then asks, "Any other questions? I should be getting on my way back to work."

"Good thing you don't know my last name then. It sucks. I'd hate to be called by it instead of Sita," she says with a smirk of her own. "And /man/, you need to loosen up. Are all Brits as uptight as you?" she asks, grinning.

"Well, he's not really a Brit," Richard argues to Sitara easily, "I mean, if he's a son of Tyr, doesn't that make him, uh— Norse? That's, uh, Germany, right? So he's German."

Rufus draws another long breath and exhales it, letting the kids ramble on for a moment or two before he states, "I suppose I left myself open to /that/ one. No, Miss Sitara, not all Englishmen are as civilised as I, and I /am/ English, despite my father's Norse blood. My mother was English, I was raised English. I am English." He sweeps up his empty cup, then he leans down to snatch at his sword case he left propped against the table leg. "Any other questions? It's your last chance to annoy me today."

Sitara smiles brightly at Rufus. "Yes, one more question. Anyone ever tried to yank the stick from your ass? Is it just permanently wedged in there? Seriously man, loosen up. Enjoy life. Any of us could be killed any day."

Even Richard brings a hand up to rub against his face with that one, somewhere between mortified and trying not to laugh, and really uncertain which one he wants to be. "Sita…"

"Keep working on that sense of humour, Miss Sita. You'll get there eventually," Rufus says, smirking, as he stands up. He steps around the table, and he rests his hand on Richard's shoulder for a brief second in passing. "Good bye, Masri, Miss Sita. Do try to stay out of trouble."

Sitara points at Rufus as he stands, but she looks at Richard. "See? Stick up his ass. I mean, c'mon. Last names and /Miss/ Sita?" She looks back to Rufus. "I am totally going to get you drunk so you loosen up. Like, soon."

"I'll be in touch, English," Richard replies easily, looking up to Rufus briefly before looking back to Sitara with a grin, "Oh, you're gonna love Neon, Sita."

Rufus just lifts a hand to wave, never looking back, as he strolls out of the shop. But he's smirking.

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