asgardeventide | WHIPS, SPAM, and VIDEO

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WHIPS, SPAM, and VIDEO

[SPAM, OPEN]

[Selina is out practicing with her whip. And it's every bit as noisy as you'd think, because she's doing a hell of a lot of marksman training. She has a picture--the picture given to her here--of her and Bruce Wayne propped up beside the leaves and bits of garbage she's found and subsequently shredded with her whip. The picture is untouched. Every time she goes to cut it in half, she changes her mind.]

[VIDEO]

[So she finally makes a post when she's sweating and out of breath, because it's been a long time coming anyway.]

All right, here's what I need: a sewing kit, some fabric, and my own place as soon as possible. I don't share well.... But if you happen to be my roommate, feel free to speak up and make yourself known.

And are there any animals around here? Mice and birds are a plus.

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[Stiles is just going to stare for a minute. Why? Because hello, hottie. Evil looking hottie. Oh, damn, that should not be so distracting.

Gape.

Finally he gathers his brain out from where it was trying to slip into his other head and addressed her back.]

Um, hi. Uh, you can maybe get the sewing kit and stuff from the market, but you're going to need money for that. You're boned on the own place thing unless, again, you got the funds for a move out. I'm not really a fan of the whole dorm life either, but options are kind of limited here.

And I'm wondering what you need the mice and birds for? I mean, there's a pet store, but... uh, yeah.

[It's not that she's unaware of the way he's looking at her--she gets it frequently, she's in skintight vinyl and that's a deliberate fashion choice. But he's young, so she doesn't feel the need to bait him and shred him the way she does with most men.

Instead she smiles ruefully, and shrugs a shoulder.] A girl can dream.

But what to do for money when we're all conscripted soldiers?

[As for the birds and mice, well, he's being helpful so she'll just not explain that yet.]

[He's trying to do it subtly but... black vinyl. He doesn't stand a chance.]

Dreams are good. I like dreams.

[Like the ones he'd be having tonight. Meow.]

Well, um, most of us find places to work here. Some open businesses. They'll give you loans if you have a decent idea, and since my best friend opened his own pet shop and he's seventeen? Age isn't really a factor. Not that, um, that's anything you have to worry about.

[She grins, charmed by the idea of a kid running a shop. It's so...quintessentially, mythically optimistic.]

He had a good idea. I was starting to worry I'd never find a cat again.

What do you do?

[He's eager to help put that fear to rest.]

Oh, no. Scott's got cats. He's more of a dog guy himself [Obviously] but there's kittens there as well. And I think there might be strays around town, but I'm not entirely sure.

So... you like cats, huh? Cats are good. Independent. Don't need much babysitting.

[Asking him what he does surprises him, and maybe he's a little flustered from it, but he answers her quickly enough.]

I, uh, I work at the Highwind. It's a restaurant. They have great pies there. You, uh... you like pies?

Well, now I really do wish I had some cash. We'll just have to see what falls in my lap.

[She tries and fails to remember the last time she had pie. Her life is mostly tuna and cream and sometimes whatever Bruce Wayne's butler made, and she's realizing now she really ought to expand her horizons.]

That depends, what's the house special?

[He had to stop himself from offering to give her money. No, Stiles. Don't fall under the vinyl spell.]

Um, they're actually pretty good at everything. And the, uh, the pies aren't just like, pie-pies. They have some great meat pies and stuff. You should come by. I can get you a great discount.

[Yeah, the free one.]

[Free pie is almost as good!

She pretends to consider it, as if she hasn't already decided.]

...All right. I could use a bite--are you working tonight?

It just so happens I am.

[Simmer down, Stiles. This wasn't a date. She wasn't going to be interested in a seventeen year old.

He could still admire from afar. Or a little closer.]

I'm Stiles, by the way.

[She'll swat you down if you get too close, don't you worry. In the meantime... she's all smiles.]

Selina. And thanks. Every city needs a welcoming committee like this.

[He's the lookie no touchie type, no worries, Selina.]

Selina. [Pretty name...] Yeah, well, hey. Not like this is a joyride, right?

Hard to say! Compared to home, I still feel like I've stepped into Mayberry. The last time I moved, I think I went six months before anyone even held an elevator for me.

What? That's just not right. There aren't exactly any elevators around, but I'd hold a door for you.

[Even if you kicked him for it.]

[She might. She's fickle.]

I thought chivalry was dead. Are all men so considerate where you're from?

Um, no. But they should be.

[Jackson came to mind, but he was just an all over douche. Scott would probably let her kick him and smile about it, then ask if her foot got hurt.]

So yeah, come down for something to eat. My treat.

Give me two hours, to get cleaned up? Believe me, you don't want me coming down like this.

O-okay.

[Did his voice just break? No.]

I'll, uh, I'll see you there.

[She smiles at him, and before there'd been some of the bookish girl in it. Now it's all feline and predatory. She waggles her fingers at him, and cuts the feed.]

[He couldn't help the small sigh as she ended the call. He had a feeling his life was going to be a series of attractions to people he couldn't have. Lydia, Heather, Skuld, Sigyn, and now Selina. Yeah, he made the best life choices ever.

If she does wind up coming down, he's already at work, clearing off a table and wiping it down for the next customer.]

[She's still in her battered, shredded Catsuit, but the mask is off. Not that it's an improvement; the burns are more obvious in person. It makes her smile seem incredibly out of place.]

So where's this pie I kept hearing about?

[The suit was still hot, but he had a feeling she needed a bath. And maybe a medic. Or some pink pills. But he'd promised her pie and he brought a menu over to a table, gesturing for her to sit down.]

Uh, that depends on what kind. You want something a little more substantial first, or just the pie?

[She's glad to take a seat, but she smiles smoothly up at him]

The pie. You got me all worked up over it.

I don't suppose you have a break coming up.

Hah... yeah, the pie.

[No, he wasn't thinking about her phrasing at all.]

Um, well, we've got a selection, so you know, pick your favorite. They're all really good.

I, uh, I can sit. For a bit. If you want.

I'll go for the old fashioned. Grab me apple.

[So she has a thing for Eve references, too. It goes well with her.]

Apple it is. You want whipped cream or ice cream with it? Hot cocoa? Milk?

[He was trying to figure out what a woman in a vinyl cat suit would want to put in her mo--

No, he was not trying to do that. He was trying to figure out what she wanted to eat. Foodwise. Yes. Food.]

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