Post by Quinn Starling on Jan 31, 2016 22:42:27 GMT
Quinn looked around at the boys, standing around the vending machine. "Alright, then it's settled. To the markets we go!" She picked up her beater's bat, pointed towards the double doors at the end of the hall, and led her team out into the sunny streets of...wherever this town was. The sun was just starting to descend, which reflected beautifully on the nearby river. Damn, that's beautiful. If only this was just me & Specs...I'd even consider making a move.
She felt so much more free out there, without the humming florescent lights and the medical-feeling pale grey walls... She led the way down the road, towards a series of open-air market shops with awnings and street performers along the way. "So...sounds like we need to sell some art, eh Wally? Got a price in mind? Maybe Booker can help decide. He's spent a lot of time down here."
She turned to Charlie, who'd been quiet for a bit. "And looks like you're picking the dinner destination, Specs! So, guess we can just mosey on down the road til we see something that catches your eye." She flashed a smile at him, hoping he'd recovered from her awkwardness at the vending machine. I hope he picked up on that quirky vs. flirting thing. I'm kinda curious, now...WAS he flirting?
The open air was a relief upon Walltur's skin, the dry controlled environment of the testing facility made it uncomfortable to stay in one place for too long. Standing at least a head above everyone else, it was easy to gain a full view of the street in front of them. He withdrew his notebook from his pocket, being careful not to damage any of the pages. After carefully studying his work, he turned to Quinn's question regarding looking for a price.
He bit his lip, trying to figure out someway to convey what he meant. Flipping a page over in his notebook, he withdrew his pencil and drew two small symbols. The first was a sign for currency, the other was a smiling face. He pointed to the people around the marketplace, then circled the smiling face twice, attempting to attribute the described reaction to the potential art enthusiasts before them.
Walltur's expression was insistent, but the others could see the helplessness and frustration behind his eyes.
Post by Quinn Starling on Jan 31, 2016 23:00:56 GMT
Quinn looked at Walltur's notebook scribbles. "Oh. So, should we look for a gallery instead of an art dealer, then? Like, someone who might want to display it or just talk about its worth, and not sell it?" She gave him a puzzled look. She liked that he was a man of few words, but sometimes it made intentions hard to read.
"Ya know, you COULD use more than a word at a time. It's not a crime or nothin'." She laughed as she punched his shoulder, jokingly. She winced and shook her hand, having hurt it in the process. Too much muscle. She shook her head and hoped Charlie hadn't seen her embarrass herself.
Walltur shook his head, letting out a sigh. He gave Quinn a half-smile for her attempt to keep things upbeat, brainstorming how to better convey his goal. He reached his arm out and grabs Booker by the shoulders, drags him to stand next to Quinn. It would have been easier to grab Charlie, but having known Booker longer, he'd react with a little more cooperation.
He quickly drew six little coins on his piece of paper, then carefully tore them out, holding them in his hand. He motioned for both Quinn and Booker to open their hands, dumped five paper coins into Booker's hand and one single coin into Quinn's hand.
Walltur flipped to the drawing he intended to sell, first presenting it to Booker. He pointed to his friend's face.
He then repeated the same action to Quinn, this time pointing to her.
He gave Booker a dismissive gesture to his handful of money, took the one coin from Quinn's hand and gave the notebook to Quinn. He opened his own hands in a presenting manner, hoping that he had gotten his point across.
Post by Cameron "Booker" on Jan 31, 2016 23:17:29 GMT
"I mean what's the point of selling your art if it doesn't end up somewhere the sun shines?" Booker interjected. He put one foot in front of the other lacidaisily as he walked along a low wall that ran along the river they were currently crossing to get to the market.
"I mean money's good and all," he mused, "and we could finally get some more professional looking team outfits but I wouldn't want to crush Wally's artistic soul."
He grinned and looked up at the golden red clouds up above, "growing up everybody expected him to be some sorta brute".
"And I guess he always seemed to have fun when people randomly decided to pick fights with me," Booker laughed.
He looked down at his big pal, "I still contend that Laura's cat painted itself just so ya know."
Turning his attention back to the sky he continued, "but when he wasn't saving my ass from, and I stress totally undeserved, fights he always kept his nose in that notebook of his."
Booker hopped down to join the others as they made it to the other side of the bridge. "I always thought he'd be an artist or architect or something but instead," he slapped his pal on the back, "he followed me here."
"Can't say I'm complaining but I never can figure out why you wanna keep saving my ass from...completely undeserved...aggression," he finished as his eyes caught the notebook.
"Anyway," Booker chuckled, "let's get some grub in our stomachs so we have fuel to find somewhere that'll appreciate Wally's genius!"
Booker's rambling took Walltur back to the memories of them growing up together. It's true, his size and strength left their family and friends to expect him to be a troublemaker or a bully. It didn't help that he always seemed to end up in a tussle at least once a week or so. With time, that reputation sunk in, and the large man found everyone keeping their respective distance from him.
But... he really didn't mind. Booker had always been there for him, providing good company and someone to engage with. He was never scared of Walltur and was patient with his communication skills. He really couldn't imagine his life without his talkative companion; if it meant getting his hands dirty to drag his friend out of trouble, he never hesitated. He hoped he could one day express his true appreciation for his oldest friend...
Walltur realized he had spaced out for a minute or two, found the others might be staring at him. Slightly anxious, he had grabbed his notebook from Quinn's hands and marched to the nearest stranger in the marketplace. It wasn't going to be easy, but he would find whoever would best appreciate his talents. He took a deep breath, and made his best pitch to an old woman browsing fruit.
Post by Charlie Bertani on Feb 1, 2016 1:14:14 GMT
Charlie walked behind the others, listening to their conversation. He was always pleasantly surprised by Walltur and his art as well as his regards to it. the man talked so little it was hard sometimes to understand what was going on in his mind.
Charlie took a moment to appreciate the breeze. Closing his eyes he let himself imagine that for a moment they were on the pitch. He had always felt more at home there. On the pitch it didn't matter that he had a stammer or that he was too shy to talk to anyone outside Quinn, Booker, and Walltur. All that mattered was his skills and finding the snitch.
Charlie snapped out of his revere as Walltur walked up to an old woman at a fruit stand and showed her his drawing. The fruit reminded him that he needed to pick a place to eat. He looked around, "I-is there a p-pizza p-place around here?"
Quinn turned to the sound of Charlie's voice. "Pizza? Sounds good to me. I know a little place down the road. Let's head that way after handling this art exchange." She nudged against Charlie's shoulder as they walked towards the older woman. "So, you're buying me pizza, then? You said you'd make it up to me or some shit, right?" Oh god. Will that make it a date? Would he agree to a date? Maybe I shouldn't call it one...just to be safe.
She overheard Walltur clumsily attempting to sell his art to a woman at a nearby fruit stand. She rolled her eyes and laughed a little before following him. "Hello ma'am. My friend here is an excellent artist and I think he'd like to know if you're interested in some of his drawings? He did a real good one just this afternoon. It'd make a great conversation piece in your parlor, I bet. Whatcha think?" She nudged Walltur closer to the woman.
She smiled as the woman looked at today's drawing. Walltur looked proud. His work was always great, although sometimes their group had trouble interpreting it as Walltur had hoped. Usually, Quinn was the closest. Her upbringing had allowed her to be around various art forms, so she was no stranger to interpretation of one's work. She liked beautiful things, but she also loved to pick out the imperfections that made something whole and complete. Charlie is beautiful...but even more so when his glasses sit crooked, or his hair gets a little messy... She sighed.
Post by Cameron "Booker" on Feb 1, 2016 2:10:52 GMT
Booker grabbed the stash of singles from Charlie's grasp and grinned. "I feel like lobster tonight," he almost sang before disapearing into the crowd. A few seconds later he reemerged from opposite direction walking with something that could only be described as an attempt at "swagger".
"My my!" Booker exclaimed in a strangely hauty tone you'd usually only hear at an extremely cliched gentlemens tea club, "this art is simply divine I JUST must have it for my gallery!"
He put a hand on the woman's shoulder, "I have a gallery you know. Swanky place, the toilets are made of marble."
He turned back to Walltur waving the stack of cash, "why I would pay THOUSANDS for art of this caliber! Sadly all I have on me is a paultry ummm," he floundered, "two hundred dollars?"
The woman's eyes brightened, "Thousands?" She asked, "I'll give you THREE hundred for it."
Booker clicked his tongue, "sadly I just bought a...uh...solid gold...sandwich so all I have is this two hundred..." I guess it's yours..."
As the woman reached into her pockets Booker noticed a young boy standing stock still and wide eyed staring at his sketchbook.
Booker glanced between the boy and the stack of cash emerging from the woman's pocket and grin faded as he sighed heavily.
"On second glance," Booker boomed, "this is nothing but a cheap forgery!" He shot a harsh glare at Walltur, "you should be ashamed of yourself. Praying on innocent young women like her?"
"Why I never!" She huffed as Booker solemnly watched the cash decend back into the depths of her pockets.
As she marched off sure of her narrow miss with a conman Booker turned to his buddy. "I think you should have a few words with that kid there," mumbled motioning to the boy who seemed to be lost in the subtleties of Walltur's pencil marks.
He handed the stack of cash back to Charlie, "pizza it is Charles..."
Booker stood back to let his childhood buddy shine.
Walltur was pretty nervous, not sure what to say next. The old woman stared at him blankly, attempted to comprehend why a giant man is attempting to show her a drawing, which he probably stole from some poor starving artist. Relief washed over Walltur as Quinn made her pitch and explained the circumstances of his approach. The large man beamed down at the woman, pride swelling in his chest as he presented his work.
From around the corner, Booker had made his appearance. It didn't take long for Walltur to pick up on his friend's routine, he tried his best to ignore the assistance. His attention was fixed on the woman, attempted to discern her reaction to the art itself rather than the pitch his friend made. He also noticed a small boy whose gaze was fixed to the paper, drinking in the imagery and detail. The large man gave a small sigh, he didn't want to let his friends down, not when he could bring them a bit more happiness...
Then, Booker had accomplished a small miracle. He had seen the look in Walltur's eyes and had read the situation perfectly. His sudden accusation left his friend a bit shocked, but then a realization dawned on him. As the old woman stormed off, he crouched down to the young boy, bringing the notepad closer to him. As the child drank in the picture, Walltur had noted the worn clothes on his back, the scuff marks on his face. With a warm smile, he carefully tore the drawing from the notepad and held it out for the boy.
The boy's eyes slowly moved up to Walltur's, amazed at the offer. His head slowly nodded, but then he paused, recomposing himself. Rummaging in his knapsack, he withdrew a worn book, sliding out a pressed flower. It was wild flower, the color of the petals mostly faded but you could still see them change from blue to purple as the petals moved away from the stem. He held it out to Walltur's other hand and smiled.
Grinning, Walltur took the flower and let go of the drawing. After a few moments the boy took off, and the large man followed his friend to catch up with the others. He handed the flower to Booker, his eyes warm and grateful.
Post by Charlie Bertani on Feb 1, 2016 2:48:43 GMT
Charlie chuckled at Quinn's remark. He patted the took out the stack of cash from his pocket and patted it, "O-of course. Dinner i-is on me." He watched as Quinn went to help Walltur. She was always so nice. He was lucky to be her friend.
Charlie was startled as Booker took the cash out of his hands. He had no clue what he was up to as he disappeared into the crowd, only to reappear next to where Walltur and Quinn were talking with the woman. He couldn't help but smile, feeling his chest get warm as he watched the scene unfold. That was his team. He couldn't figure how he got so lucky to have them in his life. The best decision he ever made was trying his luck at quidditch.
As Booker came back to stand next to him, Charlie patted him on the shoulder and gave him a smile, "W-Well done."
Walltur had come back over to hand a flower to Booker. Charlie glanced over at Quinn. Would she like flowers?
"T-time for p-pizza? Quinn, y-you said y-you knew a place? L-Lead the w-way," Charlie said, smiling at Quinn.
Quinn smiled as she watched Walturr exchange the drawing with dried pressed flowers from the boy in the streets. She frowned slightly, hoping he wasn't alone in life. He seemed content and well-fed though, so she figured he had someone looking after him.
She turned her attention to Booker for a moment, as Walltur handed him the flower-payment. Awww. I KNEW there was something there. Maybe. Nah, they're just close. No romance in this group, I'm sure...especially not us, I bet.
Her eyes wandered to Charlie. She'd been around the other two so much since they were the ones that introduced her to Vester, that Charlie's face when she met him in the lab was a nice change of view. Plus, although he sometimes seemed bothered by his stutter, she thought it was adorable. Just another small imperfection that made him complete. He was the smartest and most interesting person she'd met in Vester's labs. Or anywhere, for that matter. None of the boys from her hometown could compare, by far.
She smiled at his suggestion of her leading the way. "Sure, Specs." She looped an arm through his. "It's a date." Did I just say that? Whelp. Fuck. I blame the sunset. Here goes nuthin'. She led the group down the street, past the street performers and families on benches by the river. With her team around her, she smiled as the sun set. Family...it's nice to have a family, again.
Quinn led the boys to the pizza place, which had a red and white striped awning. She held up four fingers to the little old man that ran the joint and followed him to their table. "Whiskey and coke for me, please. And a beer or something for this guy," She nudged Charlie. He never drank much, but she felt like tonight's atmosphere demanded it. "That alright, Specs? What's yer poison?"
Post by Charlie Bertani on Feb 1, 2016 23:00:21 GMT
Charlie blushed as Quinn looped her arm through his. A date? He laughed. She must be kidding around again. "Well, I hope you don't mind this date being intruded upon by our other two teammates," he said, jokingly.
As they walked Charlie couldn't help but shoot occasional glances over at Quinn, hoping she didn't notice. She looked rather beautiful in this light.
"Quinn, y-you look r-really p-pretty in this light." Charlie felt heat rise to his face. What was he thinking? It was the sunset talking. Maybe she didn't hear me. He hurriedly distracted himself with the performers on the sides of the street.
When they arrived at the pizza place Quinn ordered him a beer, "Th-that's fine w-with me."
Post by Quinn Starling on Feb 1, 2016 23:58:05 GMT
When Charlie told Quinn she looked pretty, all she could manage to get out was "Oh! Um. Well thank you! That...was really sweet, Specs." She grinned as she had silently walked slightly ahead of him towards their destination. Holy shit. He called me pretty! Maybe there IS a chance...
She was glad when he accepted her ordering a beer for him. She thought it'd be fun to see him get just a little buzzed. Maybe he'd start throwing out more compliments...
She turned to the little old man that was taking their order. "Actually, pitcher for the table should be fine. And we'll take the house special, in a large. Thanks, Leo!" Little old Leo nodded, brought their drinks, and returned to the kitchen to work on their pizza.
Quinn got lost in thought imagining how this might go if she and Charlie were alone and if it was a REAL date, but she quickly remembered that they weren't -and this wasn't. She turned to the rest of the group. "So, thoughts on this Quidditch shit? The other team seems nice...it's a real shame we'll have to crush 'em." She laughed and turned to Charlie. "I know you're excited. Your grin when you're out there...I don't know if anything or anyone else could make you grin like that..." She smiled and looked down at her drink. "It's kinda cute." Fuck it. He called me pretty. There HAS to be something there...right?
Walltur followed the group into the pizza parlor, the aromas and atmosphere a delight to the senses. As they get settled down, he noted that Booker had been quiet since their successful art 'sale'. Figuring he was still a bit dissapointed, the large man decided to direct his attention to the rest of the group for the time being. He couldn't help but smile at Quinn and Charlie's budding chemistry, ordering drinks should certainly increase the intrigue. As Quinn orders a full pitcher, Walltur raised his hand.
As the conversation shifts to the coming the game, Walltur withdrew his notebook from his pocket. He begins to sketch an outline of the pitch, with features for the goals as well as designated starting positions for the players. Thinking carefully, he begins to circle various opponents and features on the field. Its difficult to create a plan before they've ever played against this team, so it was a basic strategy to begin with. Presenting the pad to the group, he nudged Booker with his elbow.
Walltur: Mmk, I can see that now
Mar 17, 2016 15:19:37 GMT
Vester Lombard: Beating a seeker in the 4th is pretty huge. Each IP is essentially erasing the effect of one of their successful searches.
Mar 17, 2016 16:28:34 GMT
Quinn Starling: Yeah, I would have hit Ginger more if I thought she'd rest up or if you'd heal her. But I figured that you guys would maybe leave her at 2 since that was her max, especially since we decided to stay inujurred, too Lol
Mar 17, 2016 16:36:34 GMT
Quinn Starling: We planned back between periods 2-3 to consider staying injured if we got to -3 again, to waste any coming beatings. If you aim for low DCs, have enough skill to make up for the IP, AND get lucky, it's sometimes worth it to keep the damage & keep rolling
Mar 17, 2016 17:34:53 GMT
Vester Lombard: I think in the 2nd period you definitely have to rest. 3rd period, maybe, pending your team strategy. 4th period, probably not.
Mar 17, 2016 21:14:43 GMT
Sprye Tatel: In the interest of not adding a new post each day to the Space Debate threads, would we be interested in sharing ideas via Google Docs? tinyurl.com/zlk8sb3
Mar 21, 2016 5:01:20 GMT
Quinn Starling: I'm in favor of death penalty for illegal pretty floral bonnets. I think that needs to be an argument that happens Lol
Mar 21, 2016 13:54:41 GMT
Walltur: Pro, but under the argument that all viewers of the bonnet be executed, rather than the wearer. Deadly illegal bonnets
Mar 22, 2016 4:16:02 GMT
Quinn Starling: Depends on how pretty. We'd need a numerical rating scale, to start. Any bonnet rated 6 or over (by 2/3 vote of galactic council) is determined "pretty" and a single flower may be defined as "floral." Any fixture worn upon the head may serve as "bonnet."
Mar 22, 2016 15:54:13 GMT
Quinn Starling: (that's on a scale of 1-10) And I'd be against death penalty for illegal ones (unregistered, obtained illegally, etc.) Jail sentencing and community work are appropriate, but not death penalty. Too extreme.
Mar 22, 2016 15:56:18 GMT
Vester Lombard: While I am against the death penalty for pretty floral bonnets, I do think that all people who have encountered the bonnet should have their brains slightly melted. I think this would both save lives and prevent any risk of spreading that fashion
Mar 22, 2016 16:25:34 GMT
Sprye Tatel: Again with the slightly-melting brains proposal? Seems very convenient for the Muppet-race; who can re-grow/stuff brain cells! Whose pocket are you in? Who is pulling your strings!?
Mar 22, 2016 17:16:41 GMT
Sprye Tatel: I say that the punishment should fit the crime: The penalty for Pretty Floral Bonnet's (PFB's) should be death by PFB!
Mar 22, 2016 17:19:46 GMT
Quinn Starling: I have found my people. This is where I belong <3
Mar 22, 2016 23:08:03 GMT
Walltur: Any games coming down the pipe? Online practice game of Cornucopia?
Apr 6, 2016 15:19:22 GMT
Vester Lombard: If you guys want we could try doing some online Galactic Debate. It would lose a bit of the spontaneous improv element when played on the forum, but maybe it could at least help figure out which cards are fun or boring.
Apr 11, 2016 16:36:36 GMT
Quinn Starling: We could schedule a "live" session and either skype or have the speaker type up their response within a certain time frame. So, speaker says they're free at 9pm. At 8:55 they're given their topic, then they have from 9:00-9:05 to type up their platform...?
Apr 11, 2016 17:53:36 GMT