In the name of friendship

[noirin]

Who: Noirin Oconaill and Ethan Glass
Where: The Jackabee Lounge
When: Afternoon
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: PG I guess...?
What: OC Shenanigans

[It could be said quite plainly that this lounge was one of the strangest places Noirin had ever seen. Although it looked incredibly innocuous, the fact that it always had so many different people flitting in and out intrigued her, and today she decided she would observe it. How, you may ask?

Why, by being in it, of course.

Noirin has set herself up on one of the couches, a few books stacked by her side. She's reading one of them somewhat, the title obscured by decades of weathered age, though it seems like it doesn't really have her attention, because she often pauses to look up, sighing and resting her chin on her hand. On the table beside her is a plate of shortbread cookies sliced into neat little squares, and a note in clean, exacting penmanship, reads:]

Please Partake.
- N. Oconaill

Comments

I WISH I HAD A YOUNGER VERSION OF IMRAN IN MY LIFE

[bulletproofcake]

[ Well, you absolutely had this young man's attention with those sweets. Ethan rather enjoyed the lounge because it completely deviated from the government-regulated clubs he was used to. Peaceful and bright enough that he can see his own feet, two qualifications for a place he'd like to be.

Though not really shy, he hesitates briefly over the cookies, feeling he ought to say something to the girl that might have made them. It was difficult to say.

He tried to smile without looking weird. ]

Did you make these?

IT'S OKAY I WISH MY PB WAS OLDER

[noirin]

[She glances up briefly when Ethan enters, feigning indifference, but when he speaks she properly meets his eyes. There is, after all, always the chance that the cookies wouldn't actually prompt people to come over. It really was more of a hit with the younger ones, in her experience. But, hey, she takes what she can get.]

I did. Do feel free to have some. I would prefer they not go to waste.

the struggle

[bulletproofcake]

[ Woah, talk about language formality. Well, he should have guessed from the card. It didn't rub him the wrong way but it reminded him of a couple people. ]

They look good. Thanks, uhm, [ He leaned into the card again, picking one up at the same time. ] N?

[noirin]

[It can turn off some people. But it's literally the dialect she grew up with. She's never been able to shake it - not that she'd want to.]

Noirin. And you are welcome.

[bulletproofcake]

Noirin. Yeah, thanks, er, again. [ He picked up one of the cookies and quickly popped it between his lips. He felt his cheeks tingle and flare with every chew before he swallowed. As he ate, he sat across from her, mostly aiming to relax while he has a moment in his life to do so, but also not to just eat and run. They would fly with his father, but maybe not strangers.

The look of her reminded him of an Odin Entity. Kale was a dark man, but she seemed to fit the bill. He wondered if she was, but outright asking would be stupid.

He finally notices what she had in her hands. ]

Woah. That script's seen better days. Y'don't see old ones like that anymore. [ yeah sure. ]

[noirin]

[It's pretty plain, so far as shortbread cookies go. But she's been making them for so long, the recipe is sort of ingrained in her.

She is sort of hoping he'll talk, though. Even if it's to ask a question. It'd be a touch disheartening if her efforts were for naught. When he comments on her book, she feels her spirits go up just a teeny bit.]

Really? That is odd. I have so many old books at home, it is almost bizarre for me to see a new one.