Dean smiled at Desiree as she popped up, whispering an apology to himself and Siyanda. He was gonna tell her not to worry, that she didn’t need to apologise for anything, cause you know what, it wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t his fault, and it certainly wasn’t Si’s fault, and there was one person in particularly whose fault it most certainly was. He wasn’t normally one for pointing fingers and laying the blame on people, but y’know what, only one person here had been yelling at baristas, so there it was. Mrs Beck could eat it.
Of course, this was all a totally moot point, as both Desiree and her mom had left the building by now.
Dean rubbed his temple, feeling the headache that had been threatening to flare up quietly disappearing, before turning his smile onto Siyanda instead. Now this was the sorta thing he’d been looking for. Just chilling out and relaxing with friends. Didn’t matter how little you’d spoken to Dean in the past. If you acted like a decent human being, you were as good as a friend to him.
“Ah, not too much,” he said, shrugging as he spoke. “I just headed out to grab some more earphones-“
Dean held up the sorry-looking, ragged pair of would-be earphones for Siyanda to see.
“-But nothin’ more aside from that. You got anything in mind? I’m open to, like, whatever.”
Generation Loss
- Open -
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Right, Dean had shown off his messed-up headphones before. Siyanda had taken in that tidbit of information and promptly forgotten it in the rush. In one ear and out the other. Well, it wasn't like ze was going to hold him up if he really wanted to get on that, but Dean was apparently content to keep standing around for another few minutes at least.
"I dunno man, I honestly didn't plan anything for my break. I kind of ran all the way here, which you might remember from when I almost killed you on my way in."
Ze paused to take a long sip of zir coffee. God, that was the... well, not necessarily the good stuff, but the okay stuff. It was caffeine, which was the important part. The headache that had been threatening to brew receded just a bit and became background noise once again and the fog cleared just slightly.
"Do you mind if I sit?" Siyanda was already sliding into the nearest chair, but hey, maybe Dean was going to decide he was in a hurry after all. Ze hadn't decided yet whether or not ze wanted him to be.
"I dunno man, I honestly didn't plan anything for my break. I kind of ran all the way here, which you might remember from when I almost killed you on my way in."
Ze paused to take a long sip of zir coffee. God, that was the... well, not necessarily the good stuff, but the okay stuff. It was caffeine, which was the important part. The headache that had been threatening to brew receded just a bit and became background noise once again and the fog cleared just slightly.
"Do you mind if I sit?" Siyanda was already sliding into the nearest chair, but hey, maybe Dean was going to decide he was in a hurry after all. Ze hadn't decided yet whether or not ze wanted him to be.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“Yeah, no worries, be my guest.”
Siyanda had, in fact, slumped into the chair before Dean had even finished talking, but hey, he was halfway through his sentence already. Might as well finish it, y’know? He smiled at Siyanda again – it’d been almost 5 seconds since he’d last smiled, which was probably a record for him – before he sank into the chair opposite them, sighing contentedly as he did so.
Y’know, come to think of it, it was a little weird telling Si to be his guest, wasn’t it? They worked here after all. He was their guest, if anything.
He chuckled at that, realising just a little too late that he was laughing at something Si had no idea about. Fortunately, it didn’t take too much effort to play it off as something more natural instead.
“And, hey, y’know, it happens,” Dean said cheerfully, gesturing airily with his left hand. “Wouldn’t have blamed you if you had killed me; if I had to deal with people like Mrs. Beck all day, I’d be in a murderous mood too. Besides, I don’t have room to talk. I’ve almost knocked over… way too many people to count on my longboard.”
Dean chuckled again, although with slightly less levity this time; it sounded like someone was saying his name, although the voice was muffled, and it wasn’t one he recognised. Made it a little hard to concentrate on things when it felt like someone was trying to get his attenti-
Aw, crap, he hadn’t gotten his coffee yet, had he?
“Ah, damnit, one sec Si, sorry!”
He bolted up from his chair, the legs gently scraping against the wooden floor, as he moved as quickly as he could through the throng of people and furniture to the pickup counter, giving a sheepish grin and a ‘sorry’ and a ‘thanks’ to the weary looking girl behind the counter, before he made the perilous trek back to where Siyanda was sitting. He flumped back down onto his seat, placed the cup on the little table between them, sighed, and looked up into their eyes.
“Man, I am just not all there today, huh? ‘s just one of those days, y’know? Where every single one of your actions might as well be followed with a, uh-“
Dean made a, pretty dang good if he said so himself, impression of the Price is Right losing horn.
Siyanda had, in fact, slumped into the chair before Dean had even finished talking, but hey, he was halfway through his sentence already. Might as well finish it, y’know? He smiled at Siyanda again – it’d been almost 5 seconds since he’d last smiled, which was probably a record for him – before he sank into the chair opposite them, sighing contentedly as he did so.
Y’know, come to think of it, it was a little weird telling Si to be his guest, wasn’t it? They worked here after all. He was their guest, if anything.
He chuckled at that, realising just a little too late that he was laughing at something Si had no idea about. Fortunately, it didn’t take too much effort to play it off as something more natural instead.
“And, hey, y’know, it happens,” Dean said cheerfully, gesturing airily with his left hand. “Wouldn’t have blamed you if you had killed me; if I had to deal with people like Mrs. Beck all day, I’d be in a murderous mood too. Besides, I don’t have room to talk. I’ve almost knocked over… way too many people to count on my longboard.”
Dean chuckled again, although with slightly less levity this time; it sounded like someone was saying his name, although the voice was muffled, and it wasn’t one he recognised. Made it a little hard to concentrate on things when it felt like someone was trying to get his attenti-
Aw, crap, he hadn’t gotten his coffee yet, had he?
“Ah, damnit, one sec Si, sorry!”
He bolted up from his chair, the legs gently scraping against the wooden floor, as he moved as quickly as he could through the throng of people and furniture to the pickup counter, giving a sheepish grin and a ‘sorry’ and a ‘thanks’ to the weary looking girl behind the counter, before he made the perilous trek back to where Siyanda was sitting. He flumped back down onto his seat, placed the cup on the little table between them, sighed, and looked up into their eyes.
“Man, I am just not all there today, huh? ‘s just one of those days, y’know? Where every single one of your actions might as well be followed with a, uh-“
Dean made a, pretty dang good if he said so himself, impression of the Price is Right losing horn.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"Yeah, I know the feeling." Even with the coffee beginning to perk zem up, it had definitely been one of those days. Still, Dean's sad trombone impression brought something resembling a genuine smile to Siyanda's face for the first time that day.
"Feels like that's most days lately, honestly. It's whatever, though. Just busy." Always, always busy. It felt like ze didn't have anything to talk about besides how busy ze was, whatever job or project or assignment was coming up next. Not great small talk.
It was annoying. Siyanda was great at social interaction in theory. Ze used to be able to talk circles around people, even teachers. A friend of zir parents had once referred to zem as charming. At some point, there had been a fundamental shift in priorities, socializing had fallen by the wayside, and it seemed like Siyanda woke up one day as a senior in high school and could only vaguely remember ever having had more friends than acquaintances. Now ze was faced with the simplest of all interactions, small talk over coffee, and lingering exhaustion was just a convenient excuse for why ze was floundering. Siyanda was doing everything right on paper -- jobs, good grades, volunteer work -- and still didn't have a life to talk about.
Jesus Christ, this was gloomy.
Ze searched for something, anything at all, to follow up what Dean had just said, taking another sip of coffee to buy time. "What's the difference between longboarding and skateboarding, anyway?"
Maybe it would be better if things weren't all about zem, anyway. God knew Siyanda spent more than enough time with only zirself for company these days.
"Feels like that's most days lately, honestly. It's whatever, though. Just busy." Always, always busy. It felt like ze didn't have anything to talk about besides how busy ze was, whatever job or project or assignment was coming up next. Not great small talk.
It was annoying. Siyanda was great at social interaction in theory. Ze used to be able to talk circles around people, even teachers. A friend of zir parents had once referred to zem as charming. At some point, there had been a fundamental shift in priorities, socializing had fallen by the wayside, and it seemed like Siyanda woke up one day as a senior in high school and could only vaguely remember ever having had more friends than acquaintances. Now ze was faced with the simplest of all interactions, small talk over coffee, and lingering exhaustion was just a convenient excuse for why ze was floundering. Siyanda was doing everything right on paper -- jobs, good grades, volunteer work -- and still didn't have a life to talk about.
Jesus Christ, this was gloomy.
Ze searched for something, anything at all, to follow up what Dean had just said, taking another sip of coffee to buy time. "What's the difference between longboarding and skateboarding, anyway?"
Maybe it would be better if things weren't all about zem, anyway. God knew Siyanda spent more than enough time with only zirself for company these days.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“Well, a longboard’s long, and a skateboard is… less long.”
Dean held Siyanda’s gaze for a couple of seconds, grin slowly growing wider, before he couldn’t hold it any longer, and he started laughing. Listen; it was a dumb joke, he was fully aware of that. But this had been a weird afternoon for both of them, and he could practically see the bags under Siyanda’s eyes from here. Dial it back a bit and make dumb jokes over coffee. That sounded like the perfect medicine to Dean.
“Sorry Si. Couldn’t resist,” he said, still grinning, holding his coffee in both hands as he adjusted slightly in his chair, getting himself back to that perfect level of comfort. “Although, actually, obvious as that sounds, it is one of the main differences between the two. You can make longboards almost any size you want, depending on what you’re using it for, but general rule of thumb is that they’re gonna be bigger than a skateboard”
He grabbed the top of his longboard with one hand, spinning it on its back edge like a top, stopping it after a few rotations so that the wheels were pointing towards Siyanda.
“Biggest difference, and I mean that literally, is probably the wheels, though. They’re larger and they’ve got more grip than skateboard wheels.”
Dean flicked one of the wheels with his finger, sending it spinning for a moment before stopping it again.
“I guess the other main difference is that longboards are built for travelling, whilst skateboards are made for tricks and stuff. You can get up to some real insane speeds on one of these, ‘specially if you’re going downhill, and for way longer distances than on a skateboard too. But there’s no way you’d be able to take a longboard into, like, a skateboard and onto the halfpipe or anything like that. Pretty sure if I did, then, uh, lets just say I’d be glad I can’t feel pain in this arm.”
Dean shrugged his prosthetic, chuckling to himself before taking a sip of his coffee. Man, there was another benefit to it; even the flimsiest, thinnest polystyrene coffee cup no longer posed a challenge to him. Hell yeah. No little cardboard ring for him.
He paused, then moved the coffee cup to his other hand as he continued talking.
“So, that about covers the main differences, I’d say! I could probs go into more detail, but I’ve apparently got a reputation as ‘cool’ to be upheld, don’t wanna bore you to tears.”
Dean held Siyanda’s gaze for a couple of seconds, grin slowly growing wider, before he couldn’t hold it any longer, and he started laughing. Listen; it was a dumb joke, he was fully aware of that. But this had been a weird afternoon for both of them, and he could practically see the bags under Siyanda’s eyes from here. Dial it back a bit and make dumb jokes over coffee. That sounded like the perfect medicine to Dean.
“Sorry Si. Couldn’t resist,” he said, still grinning, holding his coffee in both hands as he adjusted slightly in his chair, getting himself back to that perfect level of comfort. “Although, actually, obvious as that sounds, it is one of the main differences between the two. You can make longboards almost any size you want, depending on what you’re using it for, but general rule of thumb is that they’re gonna be bigger than a skateboard”
He grabbed the top of his longboard with one hand, spinning it on its back edge like a top, stopping it after a few rotations so that the wheels were pointing towards Siyanda.
“Biggest difference, and I mean that literally, is probably the wheels, though. They’re larger and they’ve got more grip than skateboard wheels.”
Dean flicked one of the wheels with his finger, sending it spinning for a moment before stopping it again.
“I guess the other main difference is that longboards are built for travelling, whilst skateboards are made for tricks and stuff. You can get up to some real insane speeds on one of these, ‘specially if you’re going downhill, and for way longer distances than on a skateboard too. But there’s no way you’d be able to take a longboard into, like, a skateboard and onto the halfpipe or anything like that. Pretty sure if I did, then, uh, lets just say I’d be glad I can’t feel pain in this arm.”
Dean shrugged his prosthetic, chuckling to himself before taking a sip of his coffee. Man, there was another benefit to it; even the flimsiest, thinnest polystyrene coffee cup no longer posed a challenge to him. Hell yeah. No little cardboard ring for him.
He paused, then moved the coffee cup to his other hand as he continued talking.
“So, that about covers the main differences, I’d say! I could probs go into more detail, but I’ve apparently got a reputation as ‘cool’ to be upheld, don’t wanna bore you to tears.”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
You're not that cool, Siyanda just managed to refrain from saying. Ze didn't mean it in a bad way; Dean didn't strike zem as the stereotypical cool guy because he was friendly and genuine, no affected irony or detachment. It would be hard to explain that without coming off as dismissive, though.
"It's interesting, actually," is what ze said instead, and ze mostly meant it. "I'm not big on sports, so you know. Always something new to learn." Ze took another sip of coffee and noted that it was beginning to cool. The minutes were either ticking by slowly, or too fast.
Siyanda had been... well, not deliberately avoiding looking at or mentioning Dean's arm, but ze had kind of put it out of zir mind, so his drawing attention to it was more off-putting than it ought to have been. Ze decided to continue not commenting on it. "Do you do any of that other stuff? Skateboarding and tricks, I mean."
Seemed like it'd be hard to balance with your weight uneven like that, the lack of one arm and all. No polite way to bring that up, either.
"It's interesting, actually," is what ze said instead, and ze mostly meant it. "I'm not big on sports, so you know. Always something new to learn." Ze took another sip of coffee and noted that it was beginning to cool. The minutes were either ticking by slowly, or too fast.
Siyanda had been... well, not deliberately avoiding looking at or mentioning Dean's arm, but ze had kind of put it out of zir mind, so his drawing attention to it was more off-putting than it ought to have been. Ze decided to continue not commenting on it. "Do you do any of that other stuff? Skateboarding and tricks, I mean."
Seemed like it'd be hard to balance with your weight uneven like that, the lack of one arm and all. No polite way to bring that up, either.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“I’ve never actually tried, truth be told,” Dean shrugged as he spoke, cutting his own speech of with another sip of his mocha. He couldn’t manage anything longer than a sip, though; good as it was for him mentally, holding the cup with the hand that could actually feel sharp changes in temperature was bad for his pain sensors. He tapped it down onto the table again, absent-mindedly wiping away a small spill as he spoke again.
“I’m honestly toeing the line just going longboarding, according to my prosthetist. This thing’s myoelectric, see, means it kinda needs to be treated with kid gloves. It needs more maintenance, it’s more delicate, all that jazz. The good doc suggested I just stick to running, so if he saw me doing tricks on a halfpipe, I think he might have a heart attack.”
Dean laughed, rotating his arm momentarily to allow Siyanda a brief glimpse of it. This was pretty much the best prosthetic money could buy in terms of replicating human movement, and even still, there was something a little off about it. For starters, the skin tone. He’d complained about that the moment he’d gotten it, and he’d complain about it forever more. Could they really not have gotten one that matched his own skin?
“I think my parents would too if I broke this. That’s a lot of money down the drain. Though, then again, considering how expensive a hospital visit is, I can’t tell which arm would be worse to break.”
Hmmph. He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable again, and not just in regards to his arm. He’d never wanted for much. Money had barely been an object in every stage of his life. Sure, his parents would still balk at the several figure sum for fixing his prosthetic, but compared to other families at George Hunter, they’d be able to recover and move on almost instantly. It didn’t feel right to complain about money when he’d never been lacking it.
“Hey, you know…” Dean smiled at Siyanda after a moment’s pause. “You could always try out my longboard, if you wanted. It’s a little tricky to pick up, but I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes.”
“I’m honestly toeing the line just going longboarding, according to my prosthetist. This thing’s myoelectric, see, means it kinda needs to be treated with kid gloves. It needs more maintenance, it’s more delicate, all that jazz. The good doc suggested I just stick to running, so if he saw me doing tricks on a halfpipe, I think he might have a heart attack.”
Dean laughed, rotating his arm momentarily to allow Siyanda a brief glimpse of it. This was pretty much the best prosthetic money could buy in terms of replicating human movement, and even still, there was something a little off about it. For starters, the skin tone. He’d complained about that the moment he’d gotten it, and he’d complain about it forever more. Could they really not have gotten one that matched his own skin?
“I think my parents would too if I broke this. That’s a lot of money down the drain. Though, then again, considering how expensive a hospital visit is, I can’t tell which arm would be worse to break.”
Hmmph. He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable again, and not just in regards to his arm. He’d never wanted for much. Money had barely been an object in every stage of his life. Sure, his parents would still balk at the several figure sum for fixing his prosthetic, but compared to other families at George Hunter, they’d be able to recover and move on almost instantly. It didn’t feel right to complain about money when he’d never been lacking it.
“Hey, you know…” Dean smiled at Siyanda after a moment’s pause. “You could always try out my longboard, if you wanted. It’s a little tricky to pick up, but I’d be more than happy to show you the ropes.”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"Me? I'd break my neck." Siyanda laughed a little, more because it felt like the right thing to do than because the idea of breaking zir neck or accidentally rolling out into traffic was especially funny. Though maybe it was a bit slapstick.
Local Honors Student Tries Something Mildly Exciting, Gets Hit By A Bus. That sounded about right.
"Maybe you should test it out scientifically. Break one arm and then the other, and see which costs more." Siyanda went to punctuate zir words with another sip of coffee, only to discover that zir cup was empty. Disappointing. More disappointing was the fact that it signaled zir break was near over, if ze wasn't already over the allotted time and Rae was just being nice about not reminding zem because things had slowed down.
Where the hell was their coworker for the next shift, anyway? Siyanda didn't even work here full time, and ze felt like ze was carrying this place on zir back.
With a sigh, ze leaned back in zir seat to stretch, reaching zir arms over zir head with a soft groan. "Hate to be that person, but I think I'm going to be needed back at the counter soon. Thanks for stopping by, though. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"
Local Honors Student Tries Something Mildly Exciting, Gets Hit By A Bus. That sounded about right.
"Maybe you should test it out scientifically. Break one arm and then the other, and see which costs more." Siyanda went to punctuate zir words with another sip of coffee, only to discover that zir cup was empty. Disappointing. More disappointing was the fact that it signaled zir break was near over, if ze wasn't already over the allotted time and Rae was just being nice about not reminding zem because things had slowed down.
Where the hell was their coworker for the next shift, anyway? Siyanda didn't even work here full time, and ze felt like ze was carrying this place on zir back.
With a sigh, ze leaned back in zir seat to stretch, reaching zir arms over zir head with a soft groan. "Hate to be that person, but I think I'm going to be needed back at the counter soon. Thanks for stopping by, though. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Dean laughed again, and to his pleasant surprise, it didn’t feel forced, barely made him feel uncomfortable, despite the subject matter. He was starting to feel more and more comfortable actually discussing it with Siyanda by the second. Which was obviously a good thing, but it was also a thing that only really happened with people he was super close to. Before today, Siyanda hadn’t been anything more than a passing acquaintance, really. But he felt right at home talking to them; it felt like they were sitting in a living room rather than in the middle of a mall Starbucks.
Plus, the actual scenario was so absurd he couldn’t help but laugh. It sounded like the sort of potentially-dangerous-definitely-foolish scenario Andy would get up to.
Of course, it couldn’t last. Dean gave Siyanda a sympathetic look, draining the rest of his coffee as they stretched, preparing themselves to get back to the daily grind. Ah well. It had been fun whilst it had lasted. After all the stuff that had happened as soon as he’d stepped foot into the Starbucks, it had been real good to just… relax.
“Oh, right, yeah, that whole job thing you’ve got,” Dean said, standing up, mirroring Siyanda’s stretching. “I guess that’s kinda important, huh? Still, it was fun, and it’d definitely be cool to hang out again, yeah. Maybe on a day you don’t have the threat of Mrs. Beck breathing down your neck and threatening to talk to the manager cause there’s too much cream on her double venti espresso mochaccino.”
Plus, the actual scenario was so absurd he couldn’t help but laugh. It sounded like the sort of potentially-dangerous-definitely-foolish scenario Andy would get up to.
Of course, it couldn’t last. Dean gave Siyanda a sympathetic look, draining the rest of his coffee as they stretched, preparing themselves to get back to the daily grind. Ah well. It had been fun whilst it had lasted. After all the stuff that had happened as soon as he’d stepped foot into the Starbucks, it had been real good to just… relax.
“Oh, right, yeah, that whole job thing you’ve got,” Dean said, standing up, mirroring Siyanda’s stretching. “I guess that’s kinda important, huh? Still, it was fun, and it’d definitely be cool to hang out again, yeah. Maybe on a day you don’t have the threat of Mrs. Beck breathing down your neck and threatening to talk to the manager cause there’s too much cream on her double venti espresso mochaccino.”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Siyanda smiled at Dean's quip. It wasn't as bright or exuberant as Dean's own smile, but it was there.
"One of these days, she'll come along, and I'll be the manager. Then she'll be sorry."
It probably wasn't true, or even what Siyanda would call wishful thinking. Ze had rather higher ambitions than being the manager of a glorified fast food restaurant. There was only so much time left in senior year, and thus only so much time that Siyanda had left at the Harrison Central Starbucks. Whether or not ze stayed in Chattanooga for zir gap year, afternoon shifts here three times a week weren't going to pay the bills.
But that was beside the point right now. Siyanda finally stood, sweeping zir hair back over zir shoulders and giving Dean another smile.
"Catch me at school sometime, and we can make plans. I know a lot of coffee shops around downtown that are, uh... let's say a step up from the mall."
Ze thought about giving Dean a friendly pat on the shoulder as ze passed by him on the way back to the counter, but decided against it. That was probably getting too familiar after the first real conversation they'd had outside of school. Ze threw zir apron back on and took zir place behind the counter again.
"I can help the next person."
((Siyanda Nagi continued in The Noble Eavesdropper))
"One of these days, she'll come along, and I'll be the manager. Then she'll be sorry."
It probably wasn't true, or even what Siyanda would call wishful thinking. Ze had rather higher ambitions than being the manager of a glorified fast food restaurant. There was only so much time left in senior year, and thus only so much time that Siyanda had left at the Harrison Central Starbucks. Whether or not ze stayed in Chattanooga for zir gap year, afternoon shifts here three times a week weren't going to pay the bills.
But that was beside the point right now. Siyanda finally stood, sweeping zir hair back over zir shoulders and giving Dean another smile.
"Catch me at school sometime, and we can make plans. I know a lot of coffee shops around downtown that are, uh... let's say a step up from the mall."
Ze thought about giving Dean a friendly pat on the shoulder as ze passed by him on the way back to the counter, but decided against it. That was probably getting too familiar after the first real conversation they'd had outside of school. Ze threw zir apron back on and took zir place behind the counter again.
"I can help the next person."
((Siyanda Nagi continued in The Noble Eavesdropper))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
“Sweet. Lookin’ forwards to it!”
Dean flashed another grin at Siyanda, as he grabbed his empty cup in one hand and tucked his longboard under his arm with the other. He didn’t mind Starbucks, it was fine and all, but a little independently run coffee place always felt nicer, y’know? Plus there was always the chance that Siyanda would get roped into working behind the counter when all they wanted to do was sit down and relax. That was how these places worked, right? You worked at one place, you were tied to all of them?
“I’ll see you around, then! It’ll be cool to hang out properly this time!”
He considered trying to dunk his coffee cup into the closest bin, but the prospect of missing and spraying Siyanda with cold dregs of mocha tipped the balance in favour of just walking up to it and dropping the cup in. He quite liked the idea of Siyanda actually wanting to talk to him ever again, after all.
Dean gave Siyanda a quick nod and a wave of his hand as they took up their place amongst the coffee machines and towering piles of cups, before plugging his battered earphones into his ears and heading out of the coffee shop. He almost collided with someone hurrying as quickly as they could into the building, and he stared after them for a moment, chuckling, before heading on out to wander the rest of the mall.
((Dean Puchero continued in The Frog Prince))
Dean flashed another grin at Siyanda, as he grabbed his empty cup in one hand and tucked his longboard under his arm with the other. He didn’t mind Starbucks, it was fine and all, but a little independently run coffee place always felt nicer, y’know? Plus there was always the chance that Siyanda would get roped into working behind the counter when all they wanted to do was sit down and relax. That was how these places worked, right? You worked at one place, you were tied to all of them?
“I’ll see you around, then! It’ll be cool to hang out properly this time!”
He considered trying to dunk his coffee cup into the closest bin, but the prospect of missing and spraying Siyanda with cold dregs of mocha tipped the balance in favour of just walking up to it and dropping the cup in. He quite liked the idea of Siyanda actually wanting to talk to him ever again, after all.
Dean gave Siyanda a quick nod and a wave of his hand as they took up their place amongst the coffee machines and towering piles of cups, before plugging his battered earphones into his ears and heading out of the coffee shop. He almost collided with someone hurrying as quickly as they could into the building, and he stared after them for a moment, chuckling, before heading on out to wander the rest of the mall.
((Dean Puchero continued in The Frog Prince))
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017