𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟 (hotmess) wrote in worldsapart_ic, @ 2019-03-26 19:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | holland bronwyn, katherine davenport |
This morning had turned out better than she'd expected.
WHO: Holland Bronwyn & Kitty Davenport
WHAT: Reserving tables is just obnoxious, but it can lead to new friends.
WHERE: The Jam Jar
WHEN: Tuesday; 26th. March 2019
RATING: PGish
STATUS: Complete
Everyone knew that Holland didn't really care where she got her coffee, she'd buy into any of those large chain companies if they served her decent coffee and in a timely manner. She'd use Starbucks or any similar corporation in whatever city she was in. That didn't bother her in the least. What did bother her was biased assholes. It wasn't even a species thing, but a dark haired woman commenting on another woman's hijab, and Holland was very close to going nuclear on the barista.
She probably hadn't hid it well, coupled with the fact that she had a fairly recognizable face among a certain crowd, it hadn't gone down terribly well with the establishment -although it might've gotten her a few points within the company she was with. Frankly, Holland didn't care either way, she'd been tempted to return later, as the store was closing, let her ire out in a more violent way. But she understood that she needed to be more controlled, even if her temper wasn't doing well with the extended separation from Inez -she did understand why, Holland was making sure their apartment was suitable, getting things set up, Inez was wrapping up at home and biding her extended family farewell for now. It was a whole big thing.
It showed Holland how far she'd come, since in years past she wouldn't have cared at all for just carving out the woman's throat for such comments, here she was, exhibiting extreme control.
To the point of finding somewhere else to get her coffee -a matter that the establishment and Holland agreed would be better for all parties involved. It brought Holland to the Jam Jar. She might not need coffee and food, but she was partial to the action, the process, more than anything else. If it tasted nice, all the better. Ordering their largest coffee, black with sugar, and one of the least sticky and messy pastries, Holland moved to take a seat -not needing to be anywhere for a few hours meant she might as well stay and enjoy the atmosphere.
There was a silly little 'reserved' sign on the table in messy scrawl, but it was a good location, and Holland didn't see a lack of tables anyway. Pushing the paper aside, she slotted herself into the seat, sunglasses perched on her head while she checked her phone for updates and sipped her coffee, unconcerned with how hot it still was.
In hindsight, it hadn’t been Kitty’s best idea, sticking a little ‘reserved’ sign on the table while stashing her bag safely underneath the chair where it couldn’t be seen and expecting that her table would still be free when she came out. She should have just left her jacket on the chair or something, except she hadn’t done that and now as she came out of the bathroom and glanced at Waverley - who was going to send someone over with her order - there was someone at her table.
She walked over to her table and took a breath, intending on grabbing her items and then moving to a different table but she had put a reserved sign on it, so if someone was going to sit at a table that wasn’t technically available, then she would have do deal with having someone sitting with her. So after taking a small breath to steel herself, she sat down in the chair opposite the red-head, just as her order was dropped off at the table; a large white coffee and slice of lemon cake.
Before any sort of awkward, unpleasant silence could start spreading between them, Kitty forced her nerves aside and tilted her head, reaching under her chair to grab her bag and pull out her laptop, since she was intending on doing a bit of work (not work for Elijah, but work for her… cause) and that wasn’t going to stop just because someone was sitting opposite her.
“Hi.”
Her perfectly groomed eyebrow was raised the entire time the blond set about reclaiming her seat. Frankly, Holland hadn't gotten territorial just because it took some guts to do -since it seemed very likely that 'reserving' sections wasn't a done thing in a little cafe like this, if the scoff from creeper-mc-creep the hipster was anything to go by. Holland just took a long sip from her cup, watching the young woman set up a laptop.
Holland hated those things, literally, with a passion. But that was the old school European nobility in her. She was perfectly attached to her phone though.
"Hello." Her accent had faded, less Miami, less Dutch, more generic. But Holland wasn't going to say anything about the table, just smirking a little while she enjoyed the coffee aroma, picking delicately at her food. "School work?" She wasn't entirely curious, but she opted to ask, head nodding at the laptop.
Kitty glanced up from where her laptop was waking up from her having hastily slammed the lid shut before she left the house in the morning and felt her eyebrow lifting a little. "Something like that," she offered in response, because she had learned the hard way that not everyone wanted to be party to her desire to change the world. And maybe it wasn't fair of her but she made an immediate assumption that the immaculately put together woman in front of her wasn't interested in changing the world.
She poured sugar into her coffee, stirring it with the spoon and not taking it out as she lifted it to her lips to take a sip.
"I'm Kitty," she added, once the mug had carefully been put down on the table. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if the red-head was new here since she hadn't seen her before but that was a terrible chat up line, let alone anything else.
Something like that rarely meant something like that. More often than not it was just a polite way to not tell someone they were far off the mark. Holland knew, she used it a lot, usually when people asked her if she were a 'party girl' back in Miami. But if blondie -Kitty- didn't want to say what it was, Holland wasn't in the mood to pry.
"Cute name," they were exchanging names, and that was fine, it wasn't like she really needed a quiet drink, she wasn't going to be too bothered about not being able to unwind with someone sitting along side her. It didn't stop her from texting Inez to inform her of the event, as trivial as it was. "I'm Holland."
There was an air of boredom about Holland, something she affected most of the time, at least in public, something that she couldn't quite shake off -she was noble, and noble women did not express emotion. Although she was good at anger, there was that. "So what's 'something like that'?" Okay, maybe she'd pry a little.
"Thanks," Kitty replied, eyebrow arching just a little before she shifted, tapping away from the page she was on and then refreshing her other tab. "Nice to meet you, Holland."
She wasn't sure whether or not she should reply with the truth or a lie, but Kitty had never really been all that good with the latter, so she just took a breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I- uh, 'something like that' is checking to see if there are any demonstrations happening in the next couple of days that need, uh, counter protests." She wasn't always the one that organised them, but she often did have a hand in getting them together. She was pretty good at organising things, after all. "I read that there's a humanity-first demonstration happening in a couple of days and..." she glanced at Holland, trying to check to see if she was reacting to the 'humanity-first' in a positive or negative way. The redhead was hard to read, so Kitty just wet her lower lip and continued, "so I'm trying to see if that's a thing and organise people to go and do a counter demonstration."
Holland could almost feel her eyes rolling in her head at the mention of humanity-first. They’d been at the airport the day she’d flown into LA, she’d avoided most of it but there was something about a coven or cluster of witches being in town for some conference thing and they’d been there to make a spectacle.
“Then I hope you have plenty of mega-phones,” they were loud and noisy and frankly if they were common disturbances for witches, Holland would be breaking her abstinence on murder. “I dare say you’ll still have to yell a lot. They’re a noisy bunch of ignorant twats.”
Her voice changed a little at the end, Holland’s contempt coming through clear. But she covered it by sipping more coffee and picking at her food again.
Kitty snorted. "Mega-phones and signs," she reassured, "and enough people willing to make a scene that we won't be shouted over." She tucked her hair back behind her ear and lifted her cup to her lips, taking a sip and looking over at Holland. "It's just- it's important to stand up for what you believe in, and I don't- I don't like the idea that these people think they'll be unopposed."
Mostly what Holland would recommend would be enough people to not be a target. She knew it wasn't the right way to think about it, but these people who demanded more awareness for the already highly privileged 'human' race, they always came across far more unhinged and prone to rashness than many might think. And Holland knew from experience.
"They know they'll be opposed, they don't care. They want to stand out there and shout about how they have it hardest, how they are being undercut. They blame other people for what they don't have rather than accepting it's just something that happens. They lost their job, it's a werewolf's problem, they stole the job. They can't get a girlfriend, it's a vampire problem, because they're stealing all the 'pretty' girls. They aren't earning enough money, it's the witches, they're casting curses." It was all so far fetched, but it was the same thing in a different packaging.
"Oppression isn't something new, it's just a idea that everyone thinks they were the first to come up with."
Kitty shook her head, though she agreed with everything Holland was saying. "I don't- I just don't understand it. There's nothing wrong with the way things have always been. And maybe because I've been involved my whole life.... I just don't see it? I don't see what these people are complaining about." If anything, there were supernatural species that Kitty thought had more of a right to complain that most humans.
She sipped at her coffee again. "It's just a mess. I don't see how it'll get better right now. So I do what I can."
There was never much sense to it, those who were oppressed weren't always the ones shouting the loudest, those who had the privilege could shout just as loud about losing it. "Some people just want to blame something, and are xenophobic assholes. Even if it's not real change, it's the first time they're finding out about the change." Honestly, Holland missed the days no one knew what she was, when vampire was so far fetched and outlandish.
"I'm sure there are people who feel supported by the other voices shouting just as loud."
Kitty grimaced and sipped at her drink, flicking between windows on her laptop. There were photos of the demonstration in Boyle Heights that she’d been at, as well as a couple of others that she hadn’t been able to attend due to the nature of her requiring a job to pay for her rent and bills. And at some point she supposed she should see her dad.
She glanced up at Holland again. “Everyone wants to be the loudest voice in the room. I just refuse to sit by and do nothing when there are people getting hurt.”
She shrugged. “Anyway- sorry, that’s probably way too heavy-a conversation to be having with a stranger in a coffee shop.”
"Or maybe it's the perfect conversation to have with a stranger."
Holland didn't mind, it was probably better than the idle chit chat she might've been exposed to. "You can't change people's minds by standing and shouting over other people, that's just one way of making a point. You change people's minds or open them up to things by having conversations, hard ones, easy ones, just passing figures or letting them know about the facts."
Ignorance wasn't fought by shouting, it was battled with facts, with knowledge. "Have more conversations with strangers about these things, in public spaces, obviously, where no one can hurt you for having a different opinion, maybe you'll change a few minds." Or meet some friends.
Kitty paused, listening to Holland as she spoke and nodded. It was a good point, the only difficulty was that she found it hard to talk to - or discuss complex things - with people that weren't willing to listen to an alternative or opposing opinion. People who were set in their ways and stubbornly refused to listen or consider another point of view made general communication very difficult and she lost her temper quickly with people that were openly stupid and bigoted.
But it was a very good point and she accepted that it was something she could do that would make more of a difference in the world. To quietly try and change people's minds. Of course that wasn't going to stop her from doing the shouting and the defending and the protesting because that was what drew attention to their cause.
She smiled a little and put her drink down, "It's- yeah, I think I will."
Taking a moment to study the girl, lip upturned just a little, Holland sighed, "Give me your phone number."
There was nothing about the girl that reminded Holland of herself, at any stage. Holland didn't fight for the little person, she barely bothered herself with her own kind, outside the bonds of blood. Holland fought for one thing and one thing only; the Vargas line.
But there was something about the girl and her tenacity that had her just decided the fact that Holland would attempt to help.
Kitty smiled a little and pulled out a very depleted stash of post-it notes from her bag, scribbling her cell phone number down - and her name, just in case - before passing it over. What had started out as a conversation Kitty had worried would be confrontational had quickly turned into something she had very much enjoyed. Her lips curled up a little more, her smile becoming a grin briefly before she ducked her head.
This morning had turned out better than she'd expected. It could only be a good sign for the rest of the day.