Who: Darla Summers [NPC], Acheron & Open to Psyche Where: Caffe` Reggio 119 MacDougal, near NYU When: 3:30 Tuesday afternoon
Darla walked. Her pace was not brisk and not a stroll, and her gaze never truly left the cracks in the sidewalk. Her feet were placed one after the other in a drifting gait that was both part of the world around her yet straying into the world she'd started to create within her grieving mind. The sounds and cries and traffic were blocked by the little white-corded headphones jacked into he ears, likely at a startling volume and something industrial. Probably Nine Inch Nails. Her fingers absently toyed with and gripped the folded up schedule for next term, which she had shoved into her sweater pocket for reading material while waiting for Dr. Psiakis's friend. As she walked, with the other hand she absently twirled a long piece of her pomade-slick black hair, caring not about the cold breeze that whispered through the material of her violet and black long skirt, or that the rain was dancing across her bare toes. Darla was not fully aware it was not summer yet. She was not fully aware of anything, anymore, always distancing herself from those around her and the pain, oh, the pain. What she needed was guidance, and that is what Dr. Psiakis sought for her in contacting Psyche Alma Medina.
Dr. Psiakis herself had not been able to join Darla on this short walk, as the professor was stuck in a meeting with others in the art department, something about budgets and schedules and approving the syllabus for different classes, and some apathetic muttering about the threats of low enrollment. Darla's eyes had glazed over for most of that explanation. Her teacher told her she'd meet up with her soon, and to meet with Alma at the appointed time at Reggio regardless.
She found the cafe; she had been here, once. It was an old place, a classic haunt of the University, and she remembered the fun she once had there only fleetingly. Darla lingered a moment, uncertain, in front of the door. She took a moment to remove her headphones and shove them into her bag before slinking into the small cafe, found a dark corner, and sank into it like it was the most welcoming sight she'd seen in days. And she waited for Alma, or for Dr. Psiakis, or both. She ordered some peppermint tea, and waited, pulling out the folded up schedule to study the class offerings.