The Question of Intimacy [Aiyana]
Posted: 21 Feb 2016, 03:19
* Aiyana let herself into the place and was adamant in ordering a hot cocoa. Unfortunately when she got it and took a drink, it was all spit back into the cup. She stared at the cup enviously for getting her drink inside it.
* Cedric Costello was behind the piano; another night at work to distract him from the chaos outside of work. The music he played was light, frivolous. It kept the night time crowd entertained. There'd been a marriage proposal, earlier; the couple now danced. They were the only ones dancing, but it brought a smile to Cedric's lips.
* Aiyana drifted her eyes up to the one playing the piano. The playing was good and despite the fact that a couple was still dancing, and the song wasn't over. Aiyana held no reserve in giving a rythmic clap in a gesture of entertainment before she shoved the cup of cocoa to the other side of the table as to not have to glare down into the cup.
* Cedric Costello glanced over at the one clapping. It wasn't often that someone clapped. He was there as the background entertainment; he was there because he was supposed to be. His gaze found the woman who was clapping, the center stage slowly turning in circles. Soon, his back was to her. But his gaze found her again as the stage came back around. He was amused.
* Aiyana wasn't at all abashed about what others considered weird. Rather, she was back to minding her own business after she had done so. Too busy contemplating whether or not she should stay since her original goal had been a bust. Once more, the woman glared across the table at the cup of cocoa like it had wronged her, before her eyes lifted back to the Pianist in a listless way.
* Cedric Costello had to stop playing, eventually. He wasn't the only pianist; he had hired others. Cedric had better things to do with his time, now that he had three businesses to run. He didn't have to make meager cash by playing piano all night. The song finished, the couple sat back down, and Cedric stood, swiping the tail of his suit back into place. He stepped from the stage, and headed straight for the single girl at the table with her cup of... cocoa, or so it seemed. "Excuse me - is it not to your liking?" he asked, glancing up to see which barista was manning the coffee machine.
* Aiyana was slightly surprised to see the man come over, but she didn't make a quibble about it. Instead, she glanced from him back to the drink before shrugging, "I can't tell. My taste seems to be off and my stomach doesn't want to accept it, I'm probably sick." A half truth.
* Cedric Costello had an accent that wasn't quite decipherable. French, a little German. But his English was perfect. Cedric nodded, his mouth falling open in a silent 'ah'. There was a small voice telling him to take care of this woman. To woo her. But the list was decimated, and he couldn't start a new one. He heard his sire's voice in his head; the threat of some kind of chastity belt. He cleared his throat. "Well, I hope that you feel better. If you need anything, the staff will take care of you," he said with a nod toward the counter.
* Aiyana tilted her head at the man, as if she were observing rather than actually a part of the conversation. The Native American nodded slightly before gesturing that he could take the seat across from her if he desired. "You've worked here long than, I take it?"
* Cedric Costello shook his head. He wouldn't sit down. "I have worked here as long as the place has been open. I own it," he said, offering his hand. "Cedric Costello," he said. Anyway, he told himself - he couldn't do anything, now. He never did pick women up at work; he never gave them his real name. He was bound, now.
* Aiyana simply shrugged at his desire to stay standing. She then took the hand and gave it a slight shake. She didn't have any reason to lie to him, so her name came out crisp and clear, "Aiyana." There really wasn't much of a need for a last name. The important part was the first name the 'her', not the family name. And despite the peculiarty of her own Native American name, she had no shame addressing the peculiarty of his name, "Cedric, it's an amusing name. Costello, sounds Latin."
* Cedric Costello laughed lightly, pushing his hands into his pockets as he remained standing. "Amusing?" he asked. No one had ever commented on his name - not to say it was a good one or a bad one. Or that it was amusing. He shrugged his shoulders. "I am from Brussels. I don't know the history of my name. It might be Latin."
<Aiyana> Ah. Brussels Belgium? You most likely might then. Technically, Belgium is a mixture of Germany, France, and Netherlands. However, Belgium was at a time, Spain's colony. Belgium is also a mixture of Germanic, Gaul, and Latin origin from the previous empires.
* Aiyana sounded very much like she were reciting something she had read, without much enthusiasm.
* Cedric Costello laughed. "Yes. I know all this. I grew up there. They have history class, at school," he said. It was a great place to grow up, really - he was bilingual, when much of the world was not. "It is very likely that my father had Latin origins and it's why I have never thought to question it." he said. "And Aiyana? What is the origin of your name?"
* Aiyana nodded. It was true, she should have realized he'd know his own country's history. She said without much adieu or detail to precisely what but rather, "Pure Native American."
* Cedric Costello nodded, now curious. At least when he finally sat down, it was out of curiosity rather than for the potential for carnal satisfaction. "I have... friends, who are Native American," he said. "There seems to be a ... community, in Harper Rock," he said. Now, he was watching the girl carefully; she wasn't drinking. She was sick, or so she said. He recalled the touch of her hand when he'd shaken it - hadn't it been as cold as his?
* Aiyana caught on rather quickly to the fact he was trying to gouge her; and, she was quick to be indignant, "Do not lump me with that relic, if you're assuming what I believe you are. My beliefs are in what is natural." She didn't believe in Sacrificial Victims.
* Cedric Costello arched a brow. "I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about," he said. He had made the mistake of assuming that this girl must be related to those that he knew - but it was not his right to make such an assumption. It was like believing all Italians were related. That all people with the last name 'Nguyen' must belong to the same lineage. "... I'm sorry if I offended."
<Aiyana> If you're talking about who I think you're talking about, you aren't wrong... But I'm not quite the same as that, that's all.
* Aiyana she shrugged, passively.
* Cedric Costello continued to watch the girl, who seemed to flare in anger - indignant - before settling back down again. Cedric nodded, sagely. "Ambrose Acheron?" he said. He'd only met the guy a couple of times. One conversation, though it didn't last long. He didn't ask any other questions, until he was sure they were both on the same page.
* Aiyana nodded. To be honest, she herself had not had much of any contact with this new 'family'. But she had seen enough to know she was not like that.
* Cedric Costello waited for the girl to say something else, but she didn't. A smile touched the corner of his lips, however, as he nodded again. "Then we are ... related," he said with a laugh. It was strange, to think that he would be 'related' to a stranger. Another one that he'd met, at random. It really was a small world. "And why are you 'not the same as that'? The same as what?"
* Aiyana glanced around before leaning in to whisper for only his ears, "I don't believe in sacrificial victims. I believe in the Natural World." She was rather blunt about it. She leaned back and sighed, grabbing the cup to go throw it away since staring at it made her feel pitifully unhappy at not getting to drink it. She headed back to her seat and sat down before eyeing him, "I don't recall you as a relation. And I'm fairly certain I haven't had my way with you and had any child of yours. How are we related?" A little too blunt from the lack of getting to meet those that were supposed to be her new family.
* Cedric Costello was behind the piano; another night at work to distract him from the chaos outside of work. The music he played was light, frivolous. It kept the night time crowd entertained. There'd been a marriage proposal, earlier; the couple now danced. They were the only ones dancing, but it brought a smile to Cedric's lips.
* Aiyana drifted her eyes up to the one playing the piano. The playing was good and despite the fact that a couple was still dancing, and the song wasn't over. Aiyana held no reserve in giving a rythmic clap in a gesture of entertainment before she shoved the cup of cocoa to the other side of the table as to not have to glare down into the cup.
* Cedric Costello glanced over at the one clapping. It wasn't often that someone clapped. He was there as the background entertainment; he was there because he was supposed to be. His gaze found the woman who was clapping, the center stage slowly turning in circles. Soon, his back was to her. But his gaze found her again as the stage came back around. He was amused.
* Aiyana wasn't at all abashed about what others considered weird. Rather, she was back to minding her own business after she had done so. Too busy contemplating whether or not she should stay since her original goal had been a bust. Once more, the woman glared across the table at the cup of cocoa like it had wronged her, before her eyes lifted back to the Pianist in a listless way.
* Cedric Costello had to stop playing, eventually. He wasn't the only pianist; he had hired others. Cedric had better things to do with his time, now that he had three businesses to run. He didn't have to make meager cash by playing piano all night. The song finished, the couple sat back down, and Cedric stood, swiping the tail of his suit back into place. He stepped from the stage, and headed straight for the single girl at the table with her cup of... cocoa, or so it seemed. "Excuse me - is it not to your liking?" he asked, glancing up to see which barista was manning the coffee machine.
* Aiyana was slightly surprised to see the man come over, but she didn't make a quibble about it. Instead, she glanced from him back to the drink before shrugging, "I can't tell. My taste seems to be off and my stomach doesn't want to accept it, I'm probably sick." A half truth.
* Cedric Costello had an accent that wasn't quite decipherable. French, a little German. But his English was perfect. Cedric nodded, his mouth falling open in a silent 'ah'. There was a small voice telling him to take care of this woman. To woo her. But the list was decimated, and he couldn't start a new one. He heard his sire's voice in his head; the threat of some kind of chastity belt. He cleared his throat. "Well, I hope that you feel better. If you need anything, the staff will take care of you," he said with a nod toward the counter.
* Aiyana tilted her head at the man, as if she were observing rather than actually a part of the conversation. The Native American nodded slightly before gesturing that he could take the seat across from her if he desired. "You've worked here long than, I take it?"
* Cedric Costello shook his head. He wouldn't sit down. "I have worked here as long as the place has been open. I own it," he said, offering his hand. "Cedric Costello," he said. Anyway, he told himself - he couldn't do anything, now. He never did pick women up at work; he never gave them his real name. He was bound, now.
* Aiyana simply shrugged at his desire to stay standing. She then took the hand and gave it a slight shake. She didn't have any reason to lie to him, so her name came out crisp and clear, "Aiyana." There really wasn't much of a need for a last name. The important part was the first name the 'her', not the family name. And despite the peculiarty of her own Native American name, she had no shame addressing the peculiarty of his name, "Cedric, it's an amusing name. Costello, sounds Latin."
* Cedric Costello laughed lightly, pushing his hands into his pockets as he remained standing. "Amusing?" he asked. No one had ever commented on his name - not to say it was a good one or a bad one. Or that it was amusing. He shrugged his shoulders. "I am from Brussels. I don't know the history of my name. It might be Latin."
<Aiyana> Ah. Brussels Belgium? You most likely might then. Technically, Belgium is a mixture of Germany, France, and Netherlands. However, Belgium was at a time, Spain's colony. Belgium is also a mixture of Germanic, Gaul, and Latin origin from the previous empires.
* Aiyana sounded very much like she were reciting something she had read, without much enthusiasm.
* Cedric Costello laughed. "Yes. I know all this. I grew up there. They have history class, at school," he said. It was a great place to grow up, really - he was bilingual, when much of the world was not. "It is very likely that my father had Latin origins and it's why I have never thought to question it." he said. "And Aiyana? What is the origin of your name?"
* Aiyana nodded. It was true, she should have realized he'd know his own country's history. She said without much adieu or detail to precisely what but rather, "Pure Native American."
* Cedric Costello nodded, now curious. At least when he finally sat down, it was out of curiosity rather than for the potential for carnal satisfaction. "I have... friends, who are Native American," he said. "There seems to be a ... community, in Harper Rock," he said. Now, he was watching the girl carefully; she wasn't drinking. She was sick, or so she said. He recalled the touch of her hand when he'd shaken it - hadn't it been as cold as his?
* Aiyana caught on rather quickly to the fact he was trying to gouge her; and, she was quick to be indignant, "Do not lump me with that relic, if you're assuming what I believe you are. My beliefs are in what is natural." She didn't believe in Sacrificial Victims.
* Cedric Costello arched a brow. "I'm not exactly sure what you're talking about," he said. He had made the mistake of assuming that this girl must be related to those that he knew - but it was not his right to make such an assumption. It was like believing all Italians were related. That all people with the last name 'Nguyen' must belong to the same lineage. "... I'm sorry if I offended."
<Aiyana> If you're talking about who I think you're talking about, you aren't wrong... But I'm not quite the same as that, that's all.
* Aiyana she shrugged, passively.
* Cedric Costello continued to watch the girl, who seemed to flare in anger - indignant - before settling back down again. Cedric nodded, sagely. "Ambrose Acheron?" he said. He'd only met the guy a couple of times. One conversation, though it didn't last long. He didn't ask any other questions, until he was sure they were both on the same page.
* Aiyana nodded. To be honest, she herself had not had much of any contact with this new 'family'. But she had seen enough to know she was not like that.
* Cedric Costello waited for the girl to say something else, but she didn't. A smile touched the corner of his lips, however, as he nodded again. "Then we are ... related," he said with a laugh. It was strange, to think that he would be 'related' to a stranger. Another one that he'd met, at random. It really was a small world. "And why are you 'not the same as that'? The same as what?"
* Aiyana glanced around before leaning in to whisper for only his ears, "I don't believe in sacrificial victims. I believe in the Natural World." She was rather blunt about it. She leaned back and sighed, grabbing the cup to go throw it away since staring at it made her feel pitifully unhappy at not getting to drink it. She headed back to her seat and sat down before eyeing him, "I don't recall you as a relation. And I'm fairly certain I haven't had my way with you and had any child of yours. How are we related?" A little too blunt from the lack of getting to meet those that were supposed to be her new family.