ic Lunch Money (IC)

[Gizmo]

With the winter break over, a large portion of Trevor Hunter's time was once again being taken up by classes at Freedom City University. The bulk of his classes for the new semester were theoretical studies that had little chance of capturing his attention fully, since he'd had opportunity to put most of the principles being taught into practice in his alter-ego as the second Midnight. The dark haired young man wasn't adverse to restudying fundamentals and the course work's exercises were worthwhile, but he found it easy enough to split his focus while taking in a lecture. Telepathic communication was at least more polite than texting or browsing social networking sites in the middle of class. --Wrapping up here. Five, ten minutes. Meet you in the quad?--

[April]

--Sure.--

Eve leaned back in the chair she was occupying and rubbed her eyes, suppressing a wince at the terseness of the reply--and her inability to completely hide some of the fatigue from her mental tone. Having taken to college with her customary intensity, Eve had thrown herself into the pre-law curriculum offered at Freedom City University.

The white haired young woman was gifted with perfect recall; not only could she remember what she had for breakfast on this day five years ago, but she could recall other details which were not immediately noticeable to her at the time. It's a remarkable gift, one that she had called upon time and time again during her extra-curricular activities as the heroine Sage, or La Renarde Bleue as she had recently started to call herself.

It was also utterly useless for what she was currently studying.

[Gizmo]

--Don't sound so thrilled,-- Trevor's thoughts responded dryly while he packed up his books and made his way down the tiers of the classroom's seating. Eve's weary tone wasn't completely unexpected given how much energy she'd been putting into her studies but fortunately the pair had long since perfected the art of hanging out even when one or both of them were feeling unsociable. Besides, it sounded like a break was in order. Slinging his bag over one shoulder of his coat, the laconic student dropped off a few pages of completed equations on the desk at the front of the room on his way outside into the brisk January air.

[April]

A sense of amusement threading its way across the telepathic link was the only reply to Trevor's comment as Eve gathered up her study materials and tucked them away neatly in her satchel. She was grateful for the chance to break from schoolwork, enough to recognize that she had been looking for an excuse to take a breather.

Grabbing her jacket and tossing her satchel over her shoulder the white haired young woman quietly existed the campus library, pausing only briefly outside the building to slip on her jacket. While the winter chill really didn't bother her overmuch--she tended to run warmer than most--the area was prone to sudden gusts of wind that drove the temperature down into the uncomfortable range.

[Gizmo]

Eve found Trevor leaning against the side of a set of stairs descending into the courtyard created by the intersecting halls of FCU. The taller student had worn a black jacket to match the beaten fedora and oval shaped sunglasses on his head, but broke the pitch colour up with a light blue scarf and jeans to avoid looking too much like his costumed identity. He lifted a hand in silent greeting as he stood up and sauntered over to his white haired friend. "So. Coffee?" he suggested predictably, offering the Martel heiress the crook of his arm in a subtly wry gesture.

[April]

Eve accepted the proffered arm, chuckling at both the gesture and Trevor's predictable suggestion of coffee. Putting on a look of feigned sadness and regret, Eve shook her head, chin length white hair fanning out. "Not this time, I fear," she began, her French accented soprano grave, "I require more hearty fare, as I would wager, you do as well."

Eve gave Trevor an evaluating look as she led them off campus. "Seriously, you need to eat more, Skinny. And not just when Erin is over for a visit." The telepath's tone had shifted, softened some, but she frowned slightly as she realized she was probably coming off as a busybody.

"There's a nice diner off campus," she said shifting the subject, "Head there?"

[Gizmo]

Trevor let out a short breath through his nose as they began walking. He's put on half again what he'd weighed when he and Eve had first met, but admittedly that owed far more to physical training than to his less than stellar eating habits. There just weren't enough hours in the day to remember to set any aside for meals. "Giving you a chance to catch up, 'Shorty'," he countered affectionately, jostling her lightly with their linked arms. "Diner works." He indicated that she should lead the way with his free hand, deferring to the voice of nutritional reason.

[April]

"Pfft" was all the tiny Frenchwoman offered by way of response.

Such as it was with their banter; a clipped phrase, double or triple meanings, but never a word to hurt all with a profound love and respect for the other person. The tall dark haired young man and his small light haired counterpart looked to be a study in opposites, but Eve and Trevor were of the same mind on many things; for instance, they both felt it would be better to walk to the diner than take either of their vehicles. Besides, then it'd result in a spirited debate on who would drive, which Eve knew would be herself.

Thankfully the odd couple only had to brave the January air for a little while before they were pushing their way into the small, crowded diner that was a favorite among the University crowd. Spying a free booth (having to stand on her tiptoes to do so, and shooting Trevor a glance daring him to comment) Eve and Trevor soon found themselves seated and looking over a menu.

[Gizmo]

Studiously failing to notice any height related difficulties or resulting looks, Trevor slid into the booth across from his diminutive friend. He spent several long moments pouring over the diner menu with the same intensity he might have applied to a crime scene, his expression flat and unreadable until he finally admitted, "...no idea what to order." He was at least conceptually familiar with all of the listed food stuffs but lacked sufficient experience with any of them to denote a favourite. Normally a visit to a restaurant was preceded by some minor research into their signature dishes or at least reading the opinions of a reputable reviewer or two. "Pie? Thinking pie."

[April]

Eve gave Trevor a blank look, then shook her head. "Pie later, sandwich now," she said in a somewhat commanding tone. Then the white-haired girl's expression turned impish and she smiled. "But I'll let you have the coffee, I'm afraid anything else might be too much of a shock to your system." When their server arrived, she ordered a club sandwich for the both of them (each with a side of fries; coffee and water for Trevor, water for herself).

When they were alone again, Eve gave her best friend a measuring look. "You have something on your mind." She observed; it wasn't a question. "Want to talk about it?"

[Gizmo]

Trevor lifted his shoulders in a minute, affable shrug and made no objections to Eve's menu selections. It wasn't as if he wasn't capable of feeding himself but it saved a lot of time compared to having him methodically weigh each option without the context of familiarity. He did snort at the petite girl 'allowing' his beverage choice. He counted them as good as siblings but he wasn't always sure who was supposed to be the elder in that arrangement.

He could tell by the lack of her thoughts on his own that Eve didn't need her telepathy to note something was bothering him. "Hrn..." he mumbled, leaning back in his seat and looking away for a moment. "Erin... does not enjoy the holiday season. Had an argument. Been... avoiding me, I think."

[April]

Considering what she knew of Erin's past--pieced together from scraps of conversation, revelations during the visit to her home Earth, and twisted nightmarish reflections that had haunted Singularity's memories--Eve could well understand why the end of the year holidays, ones with a heavy emphasis on family, would be especially upsetting for her friend.

But she also knew Trevor, and knew he would and could handle such a sensitive topic with the gravitas and decorum is demanded, especially when it came to someone he loved. Which meant that the chances for argument were low, bordering on the implausible. That there was and argument, and it was severe enough to lead to avoidance, was cause for concern.

Eve worried at her lower lip. "What was the argument about?" she delicately asked. She paused briefly as their waitress returned with their drinks. "Do you want me to talk to her?" the white haired young woman offered, taking a sip of water.

[Gizmo]

"...not entirely sure," Trevor admitted, leaving his coffee conspicuously untouched as he rubbed the back of his neck and jawline uncomfortably, brow furrowing. He'd gone over the conversation over and over and still couldn't figure out what he'd done to set Erin off, how he'd misjudged something so badly. "Must have... Hhn. Don't know." Leaning back against the booth's cushions he let out a long breath. "And no. If she needs space, need to respect that. Thank you, though." The last time he'd well and truly bungled things with Erin, in the wake of the zombie invasion, time had been the only appropriate response. Even so, at least then he'd known what he'd done wrong. The young man pinched the bridge of his nose is muted distress, careful not to push his sunglasses too far up for risk of revealing his discoloured eyes. "Should I send... flowers?"

[April]

"Fair enough," Eve said with a shrug.  She thought it was a mistake though; if Erin and Trevor got into a fight over something and Trevor didn't know the why of it, it suggested that there was something else troubling Erin and that talking it out would be the best way to resolve whatever was bothering her.  But Eve was going to respect her friend's wishes, and keep out of it.

 

"Flowers can't hurt," she said after a moment.  "They don't even have to be 'Sorry, I messed up.' flowers.  You can communicate a lot of thoughts through flowers."

[Gizmo]

Trevor made a flat sound of acknowledgement around a mouthful of coffee, finally relenting and setting into the beverage. "So I've learned. Helped a florist," he elaborated in his own terse manner, sending the telepath a mental impression of the heroine Fluer de Joie almost reflexively, conveying his meaning without risking a slip of the tongue in a public space. "Designed a bouquet for Erin. Studied the 'language' afterward." It had seemed like a useful tool for covert messages or the potential key to a clue somewhere down the line. "...seemed unnecessarily complex."