Who: Noah Locke and Luke Quinn What: Oh snap! Luke runs into Noah unexpectedly and just can't keep away; his charm and hansome looks suck him in and he's gotta ask questions---like how did Max get a tail. When: Monday, June 13 2029 Where: Eatery in District 3 Status: Logged/Complete Rating PG
LUKE: Ah, America. Land of the free, home of the brave. It wasn't his land and if the government ever figured out his real past, he'd get his ass dragged off and confined away forever before he could beg twice. But still, they were the fools to allow him to immigrate in the first place.
Having just left the fourth day of his new job, Luke was finding how nice it was to soon be earning a paycheck again after weeks of worrying whether he'd actually be able to ever pay off his fine and keep himself out of ever returning to prison. While it was fun trying to avoid getting shanked or dropping the soap, he had better things to do with his time. In this case, it was remembering to eat after a long night of mixing drinks and avoiding trying to scout out whether Max would show up at the same time as him. Because friends care about whether they can see their friends at work. Even if the idea of him and Max being friends was tenuous at best and so he was trying his best not to push it.
Entering one of the nearby diners after work, Luke settled himself down and waited for the server to come over, knowing he was going to order the cheapest shite and drink water just so he could save money. Ah, America.
NOAH: Rarely, after a difficult day of waiting tables and busing dishes, did Noah make a decent tip. For the reasons he didn't actually know, this evening he brought home a good little fortune, enough that after he squandered away some for bills and new shoes, he could go out and buy himself a nice hot meal. It meant a lot to him, that capability to sit down in a restaurant and buy food, to have someone else serve him for once.
There were enough choices in this city, that was for sure. Only a few served anything he could resemble and recognize as "home cooking"---that delightful taste of Southern cuisine that was seldom found in the North. Noah missed his Texan life sometimes more than his years in Oregon. The food, though better in the Pacific Northwest, was not the same deep flavours and meaty textures. And now, now he had to settle for soy, not the ingredient a cowboy would every go for but it wasn't as if he had a fiscal choice.
In this place, he had a low booth to himself. He had been here once or twice before, knew what was decent on the menu, how clean the kitchen was. With his raggity knapsack on the bench beside him, Noah pulled out a tattered song book and a pen, pushing aside the menu (he knew what he wanted) to jot down some notes. The old fashioned way. He cautiously glanced up a few times to check out patrons, locked eyes with a sour looking guy about his age, before looking back down.
LUKE: If he knew his day was going to turn so much better with the addition of the pure thorn in his side, he would have ordered chinese and stayed inside. His eyebrows forcibly raised at seeing NOAH of all people in the same locale as himself. Normally he wouldn't have recognized the little jag off, but thanks to his sad little stalkerish methods, he had seen Noah's lone video and his guest appearance on one of Max's videos as well.
If he was a master of keeping his face passive, then Noah would probably never have noticed his reaction. However, he usually had his face hidden behind a black ski mask so he was unfamiliar with the idea of not reacting. What Noah was lucky to see was a man who looked up from his menu, eyes slightly widen, and then pretend to be really engrossed in today's dinner specials. Don't look up Noah don't look up, he inwardly pleaded.
NOAH: Something tickled him. A pressure bore down on him. Noah looked up, glancing around the small room and passing from table to table until he laid eyes upon the one causing his third eye discomfort. The only person acting with an unusual behaviour with the guy staring so intently at the small menu. What an odd ball.
But his mannerisms were funny, so Noah continued to watch, putting his pen down and resting heavily on his arm so that his shoulder did a clicking noise and he knew he'd regret it later. Old bones and all that.
LUKE: He looked up once more, surprised, a little unsettled and completely annoyed that Noah had been paying attention to his pathetic attempts at spying and subsequently hiding and pretending that he didn't see nor care about Noah's existence. But pretending to be interested in a menu with limited barely edible options was likely not enough to convince the jag off that he didn't actually want to see him.
NOAH: Continuing to watch, Noah absently flicked his pen around his fingers in a spiral and watched through hair that fell down. Maybe he should cut it. There was something about this guy that just sat funny with him. Maybe it was his lack of proper spying skills, or his very rough-around-the-edges look. Noah decided he couldn't trust him, and stick the end of his pen in his mouth and chewed it, still watching.
LUKE: If Noah was anymore suspicious of the man sitting elsewhere across the diner, then he couldn't have made it anymore obvious than when he ordered a sandwich and a refill for his water. And refused to let go of the menu when the waitress tried to take it from him. It made things easier when he couldn't actually see the jag off.
NOAH: No, still watching. Amused by the man's lack of willingness to let go of a menu. It was becoming quite clear what was going on: the guy didn't want to see him. He was hiding behind his menu. This was amusing. Noah had ordered a small salad, and when it arrived, he picked up a square of something rather crunchy and crunched it, loudly. Crunch.
LUKE: Most of Luke never wanted to ever encounter Noah. However, he also knew that even though the guy was a complete jag off, he was also Max's friend and therefore a possible way into his life...or a great risk to their barely budding friendship. So he did what he had to do to give himself a chance: he grabbed his water and stalked over to where the annoyance sat. "Hello," he greeted. "You're the one who keeps calling me a rapist," he made sure to emphasize the last word before sitting down.
NOAH: Sitting back, Noah watched with a mixture of confusion and amusement as the other one stalked his way over and assaulted him with some pretty heavy words before taking a seat. "...and I didn't even say it was okay to sit down," he muttered, closing his notebook and tucking the pen into the center of it. He would rather not have some stranger (or, maybe not a stranger) look at his private words. "I'm going to presume," Noah drawled out, taking stock of utensils on the table, the location of his fork mostly because he picked it up and speared some vegetable matter, "You're the Rapist." And there, across his face, spread one of his more sarcastic and cruel smiles.
LUKE: "I am the guy who was just trying to make friends, but then you had to go and be, well, you." He sipped his water, watching Noah react to his sitting down. "Is it so impossible for a man to be asking questions without the assumption that he is trying to hump the living shite out of every person nearby?" Luke was still waiting for his sandwich so he had no trouble just sitting around while confronting his friend's best friend.
NOAH: Calmly, Noah lowered his fork and sat back. "No." It was impossible for a situation such as that to actually exist. In truth, Noah just didn't want someone to hurt his best friend, and on top of that, this guy put a real screw in his side. "So you're Irish."
LUKE: He couldn't help it. He laughed. "Give the man a fecking medal would ya? Yes, I am." The smile became pursed as he took a real good look at Noah. "So, what is yer problem with me?"
NOAH: "Yeah..." He dragged the vowels out, looking at the waitress across the room and watching her actions for a minute. She was so oblivious to them that it made his head hurt. Focusing back on the object of contempt, "It's not really you, I guess, it's more that you've got to understand this: Max is my best friend, and you moved in on him. If you were a girl, I'd be doing the same thing. You know?" Noah threw his hands up in front of him, palms facing Luke, and shrugged. "Gotta protect my home boy."
LUKE: He stopped smiling and leaned his head against his now propped up hand. "First, I did not 'move in on him.' Secondly, why didn't you say all this in the first place instead of being such an arse? I would have understood."
NOAH: The Texan cocked an eyebrow and frowned. With everything, he still wasn't sure about Luke. For now. He hummed. "Guy code, man, you should have figured it out." You know, that weird, 'don't date my male bff because his bff will fuck you're shit up' code that only existed in certain parts of the world, because normally this applied to women, but somehow with Max being on the fence (sexually) made Noah both female/male in these relationship triangle things. "...Or girl code. Sometimes I don't know."
LUKE: There was a quirk of the eyebrow. "Guy code?" It might be nice to not have Max's best friend hating him for just existing. He wasn't looking for them to become friends as well, but perhaps a truce. That would be at least something he would work with. "Back home we just threaten to beat the ever loving shite out of each other. Got the point across every time."
NOAH: "We could do that too." Beat each other up sounded kind of fun. It had been awhile since Noah was in a good fist fight---or, really, anything that drew blood. A man needed to taste blood in his life. Kept things real, down to earth. Vampires. "If you're going to chase Max's tail, we should probably discuss a few things. Like how he's got a tail."
LUKE: "If I were you, I wouldn't suggest it." It wasn't a threat, and said in a matter of fact manner. He used to beat up guys who were twice as big as Noah, and it wouldn't take long for him to easily finish off the wirey little guy. He was tempted to start the fight when Noah started shit with the tail comment however. Feeling like he at least gained some ground earlier, he wasn't about to give up yet. "Really. A tail. Do you think I'm going to believe that?"
NOAH: Noah took this suggestion as more than a grain of salt. He leaned back, narrowed his eyes and set his jaw in a line that only was used when he was about to fight the oppression. Luke was not the oppression but he was definitely a force to be reckoned with. Well played, sir. "Well," the tail, oh that would be fun to explain, "A bomb fell. Radiation. Weirder shit has happened. Did you know," and Noah leaned forward like he was about to tell a secret, "When I was moved to Fort Scott, I saw a girl who had grown a beard? Jut from a small amount of radiation. Then, down in the Ozarks, I met a guy who had been exposed for five days and lost his vision but gained Daredevil like senses? I mean, anything can happen."
LUKE: Again, that was because he could most certainly make a man long to get beaten up by the oppressors. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm during Noah's long explanation. Remember, killing people is wrong, killing people is wrong, you'll get in a lot of trouble. Maybe a maim--NO. Wrong. "I'm sure anything can happen. But I also recall Max mentioning he was nowhere near California when the bomb dropped. Can you explain that?" He did his best to remain impassive while waiting for Noah to respond.
NOAH: Headshake, "Magic, I suppose. I'm pretty sure it still exists." That, right there, is his rationing for why Max has a tail from radioactive exposure. Magic. He looked pretty smug and even more so when his waitress finally brought him some food, of which smelled delightful and amazing and like something he needed to put in his belly. "Magic."
LUKE: "Magic. Of course. How could I not have known," he said, managing not to roll his eyes at the last moment. Getting up, he tossed down a few dollars to compensate for his time spent at the table, nevermind he only got a water and had waved away the waitress from bringing him his sandwich. "Well I must go, I'll leave ye in peace," he announced, smiling somewhat politely. "And just so ye know, yer not as bad a guy as ye pretend to be," smirking as he turned and made his way out the diner.