Dawson Nolan (silentlyhowling) wrote in worldsapart_ic, @ 2019-03-13 20:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | dawson nolan, xx_cassidy roka |
Who: Cassidy Roka & Dawson Nolan
What: A packed cafe makes for good company
When: March 10th
Where: Jack's Diner
Rating: Low
Dawson loved Jack’s. He really did. It was one of the few places in the city that he had frequented before they’d left that really hadn’t changed at all. It was busy, busier than normal, but Dawson wasn’t to be denied the pizza fries that were one of the diner’s specialities. People might have been out in full force, but Dawson was hungry and he’d been on his own in the house all day for the past two days - since he hadn’t messaged Shiloh yet about lessons because he was still half sure that she’d only said yes because he’d offered and not because she was actually interested - so was also feeling stir crazy. Gloria had been working at Jack’s when he had been here before and she had watched him grow from a newly turned, scrawny werewolf with no confidence into a not-so-newly-turned, slightly less scrawny werewolf with no confidence. She ushered him to one of the last free booths and settled him there, not needing to take his order because she knew it well enough. Of course, once he’d finished his second milkshake and the place was packed to the gills (was that even an appropriate phrase?), the delay in getting his food out made a bit more sense. Lunchtime rush, or… whatever time of the day it was. It was okay, he didn’t mind waiting. He texted Drew, checked in on Elijah and was reading a book when he sensed a presence beside him. He didn’t know how long the guy had been standing there, but he saw Gloria off to the side. She lay a hand on the other man - werewolf, Dawson’s ears pricked up - and he could see her mouth moving but obviously couldn’t hear what she was saying. “This is Dawson,” she told the other wolf, who had come in looking for something to eat. “He won’t mind the company but he’s not awful chatty.” She patted his arm. “Take a seat, you two have a fair bit in common just on the basics,” she winked, well aware that Dawson was a werewolf and she had a sixth sense for these things. “I’ll be back shortly to talk your order.” Not a hundred per cent sure what was going on, Dawson offered the other wolf a warm grin and waved his hand indicating that he could take a seat. Naturally, he was non-threatening, there was nothing about him that caused people’s hackles to rise. He lifted a hand to wave in greeting, closing his book - because that was polite. Cassidy was almost regretting his decision to step in Jack’s. The place was busier than he’d clocked outside when he’d pulled up, and while crowds weren’t necessarily what got to him, it wasn’t...exactly how he’d wanted to spend his afternoon. He should’ve stopped on the way back into town, but he’d wanted some actual food, and, love the place as he might, what he’d had in mind at the time served decent coffee and that was about it. He’d remembered Jack’s about the time he’d hit the actual city limit and, while he’d only been in once or twice, he remembered enough to know it was probably his best option. Of course, he could just push on and head home. But the only food there was the leftover dinners in the freezer and a couple boxes in the cabinets and that just...didn’t sound appealing. And waiting until after he’d gone grocery shopping didn’t either. So, Jack’s it was. Honestly, he should’ve gone shopping last night, like had been his plan. But the need to move and get out had taken precedence. Staring at the over-crowded interior of the diner, maybe this’ll help him override that urge next time. But for now, he was here, and he was going to make it work. He’s not quite sure what his face is doing when the waitress - Gloria, by her name tag - comes up to him, but he can’t quite suppress the urge to flinch when she lays a hand on him. But, no, she’s being nice, and he needs to get over himself real quick, so while doesn’t quite manage a smile, he does keep his shoulders relaxed and his body language open, letting her lead him to a booth. He’s about ready to just call it quits when he sees the booth is already occupied - he gets it, the place is busy but with a close enough atmosphere that he’s pretty sure this is a regular thing, he’s not about to throw a fit over that - but he manages to catch the scent before she’s done explaining. “Ah...thank you, Gloria.” He manages, watching her walk away before glancing back at the wolf. He didn’t look too upset that his lunch had been interrupted at least, if the smile was anything to go by, but Cassidy still hesitated a moment before taking the invitation to sit down. “Sorry about this…” he offers, dragging a hand through the back of his hair. “Guess there wasn’t really another option?” He blinked slightly, then quickly offered over his other hand, “Ah, name’s Cassidy. She said you were Dawson?” Dawson’s eyes tracked the man as he moved and sat down, eyes on the man’s mouth as he spoke, though he didn’t quite catch the name. He glanced back at Gloria, wondering if this was another one of those occasions where she seated someone with him but forgot to tell them he was deaf and realised, with a creeping awkwardness, that was exactly what had happened. He held his hand out to shake the offered one so as not to appear rude - that was the last thing he wanted - and shook the guy’s hand firmly before retreating back to his side of the table. He rubbed behind his ear and signed [I’m deaf], just on the off chance that the guy knew sign language, following it up five seconds later with a scribbled note on a piece of paper from his notepad: I’m deaf. Sorry, she probably didn’t tell you. I missed your name. If you say it again, slowly, I’ll catch it. He looked up, equal parts apologetic for existing and hopeful that the first werewolf he’d met since coming back to LA wouldn’t just up and ditch him. He wet his lower lip, worrying it with his teeth, brows creased a little. Cassidy may not have been able to tell what was signed at him - at least, not directly, though context quickly fixed that at least - but he recognized the movement for what it was, and the note just confirmed it. Glancing back after the waitress, he huffed softly, not quite able to help the slight glare. Not awful chatty suddenly made a lot more sense, even if it was possibly the worst way he could think to start this off. Made things awkward for everyone, at the very least. Shaking his head - nothing he could do about it now but move forward - he turned back to Dawson with a small, sheepish smile. “Cassidy,” he repeated, slowly as asked. “Talking okay, or should I steal a pencil? Or leave you alone?” He continued after a moment, keeping the same slow and clear rhythm as best he could. The expression Dawson was giving him, he figured it was best to ask. He didn’t want to bother the man if he didn’t want to be bothered is all, and he could sit here quietly, eat and leave if that’s what he wanted. But honestly, having another wolf around after last night was already making him lose the knot he’d been holding between his shoulders that even the clear night air hadn’t been able to get rid of. Maybe he should’ve gone to the pack house last night instead...ah well, something to keep in mind for next time. Dawson’s eyes tracked Cassidy’s lips and he nodded, scribbling Talking is fine; as long as you don’t cover your mouth I can read your lips well enough. Might just ask you to repeat something if that’s okay? He looked a little sheepish, twisted the sheet back around again before he added, I have a crystal that lets me Flipping the paper back around and pushing it over to Cassidy, his other tugged on the leather strap that held the crystal around his neck. He indicated to it with a curious tilt of his head. At least it was easier for Cassidy to understand him with it. Though since it wasn’t a two-way thing it didn’t help him understand what was being said. He had to just get better at it though; he was a champion lip-reader and couldn’t rely on Drew forever. He’d managed before; he’d just become complacent and it looked like he’d have to start re-teaching Elijah sign language, since at least one other person he knew needed to be able to interpret for him on occasion. He hoped Cassidy wouldn’t mind; Drew was good and all, and honestly Dawson liked to think that Drew was all he’d ever need but that was a lie and they both knew it. Just seeing another wolf, sitting opposite one, had made Dawson’s chest loosen and tighten all at once. He missed werewolves. Cassidy tilted his head curiously at the note, raising an eyebrow when Dawson pulled out the crystal. “If that’s easier for you, sure.” Weird, but he could go with it. He still didn’t understand a lick what all magic could do, no matter what he got out of Kitty on the matter. And while the effect sounded odd, he couldn’t imagine why he’d object. Pausing, he offered a thin smile to the waitress that came by - coffee and pancakes ‘cause it was shaping up to be a morning where he needed something simple, and a thank you - before turning back to Dawson, the smile still in place, but more genuine. He eyed Dawson over for a moment, hesitating slightly - an invitation to stay and talk didn’t mean carte blanche and he knew that as well as anyone could - “You new in the area?” He started, then stopped, shaking his head at himself with a huff before making sure he was facing Dawson again, “I mean. I don’t know every wolf, but uh...never seen you around is all.” Dawson took a breath and waited as the waitress took Cassidy’s order. He’d already put his in, but he figured he’d have to wait now for the other one so they were served at the same time. Or Cassidy’s would be expedited. That would be better. Lip reading was tiring but he was used to it. No one really knew ASL, which sucked but it was a fact of life. That reminded him that he needed to message Shiloh. His lips lifted into a small smile and he shook his head, voice projecting into Cassidy’s mind as he replied. “Not really, I lived here a few years ago and then left, now I’m back, the pack I was with moved on.” The last bit was tinged with sadness when spoken; they hadn’t been a great pack, Lord knows they had treated him terribly, but it had been a pack, and he was coming up on five years without one. “You?” It wasn’t until after the waitress had left that Cassidy connected that, on a busy day like this, he’d probably just delayed Dawson’s meal. Dragging a hand down his face, he groaned, keeping his hand over his eyes so as to not block his mouth, “So. I’m sorry. If it’s late, I’ll pay, alright? ...Actually, I’ll just pay anyway. As a thanks for letting me intrude. That alright?” Slumping back in the booth, arms crossing loosely over his chest, his face scrunched up slightly at the first sound of Dawson’s voice in his head. Odd. But, honestly, he’d dealt with weirder. “Been here about five years. It’s felt like home for at least two, so that’s something.” And then what Dawson actually said caught up with him and he sat back up straight, elbows on the table, frowning slightly. “Wait. They didn’t wait for you?” Dawson waved a hand, arguing without words that Cassidy didn’t have to pay; honestly that seemed unfair for the guy to take on the cost of their food considering they were two separate orders. But he had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be quite so easy to put the guy off his decision to pay. “You don’t have to.” His eyes tracked Cassidy’s lips again and he nodded, five years. They had just missed each other. Not that Dawson likely would have met him anyway, since he didn’t really associate with anyone beforehand. Still didn’t really do so now, every time he’d met someone it had been a total accident. He shifted, leaning back out of instinct when Cassidy sat up, his posture changing from the laid-back slump to something a lot more alert and for a brief moment Dawson was rocketed back to his old pack and made himself smaller, looking past Cassidy rather than directly at him so he could still see what was being but didn’t risk challenging him. Realistically he knew this wasn’t needed, but you couldn’t fault experience. He shook his head in response to the question, fingers finding his napkin and pulling it off the table onto his lap where he started to shred it anxiously. “N-no, pretty sure they were glad to see the back of me.” “...Would you be offended if I did anyway?” Cassidy asked, because as much as he wanted to, he also knew that it wasn’t worth actually upsetting the other man over. But he did feel bad about interrupting Dawson’s time, and a lunch was hardly enough to put a dent in his wallet. Not like he spent much on anything else anyway. Which was suddenly the least of his worries by a long shot as he clocked the shift in Dawson’s posture, echoed in the stutter in his head. Aw, fuck. It took him a second to actually place what he did - far too complacent with wolves that knew him, knew how he moved, to consciously track all his movements - but when he did he kind of wanted to drop his head to the table. A couple times. Instead, he slumped back again, shifting lower in the seat, arms crossing loosely over his chest again. “So. I’ve been told I act before I think. A lot. I’m sorry about that.” He said, face as open as he could make it. He took a long moment, making sure he could react without going overboard - again - before shaking his head. “I don’t know the situation, but...they don’t sound like the greatest pack then.” Well, there were a couple other adjectives he could think of. But, like he’d said, he didn’t know the situation, all he had was what he could see. ...So yeah, a few of those adjectives probably fit. Dawson flinched again as Cassidy apologised and shook his head, it wasn’t Cassidy’s fault that Dawson had been in a pack with a brutish alpha who had taken pleasure in lording over the others in his pack that weren’t as bold. He rubbed behind his ear, took a breath and went back to shredding the napkin. He wanted to tell the other wolf not to apologise but then he didn’t want to start a conversation that could become anything less pleasant when actually this had been going well. Sitting with another werewolf made him feel better. Dawson’s shoulders lifted again. “They were my pack,” he said sadly. They had been all he had known, all that he had after his dad had died and before his brother had come back into his life. A bad pack was still a pack. Now he was alone and it hurt. He wanted to ask about Cassidy’s pack, he could just about sense that he was part of one. He didn’t have that same kind of strung out feeling that Dawson and other packless wolves like him had. But he didn’t. Didn’t really think it was appropriate. It was on the tip of his tongue - what was, Cassidy didn’t quite know. Some form of apology again - for making the situation weird, for pressing, that the only pack experience he seemed to have had, apparently, been pretty bad. But none of that was appropriate in the least, and he knew it. “I get it. Well, no, not all of it, but...pack is pack.” He offers instead, because that part he did get, in his own way. “...So before things become awkward,” or more so anyway, “what do you like to do?” He asked, smile small, and slightly hopeful. He wanted to keep talking with Dawson, wanted to find out more about him. But pushing at things that made him uncomfortable was the quickest way to push him away, and send Cassidy out the door. Dawson snorted humourlessly, “You said it.” Even if they had still been around they probably wouldn’t have taken him back. He wasn’t sure of that was a good thing or not. Drew thought it was. But Drew wasn’t a werewolf. The conversation shift was gratefully accepted and Dawson chewed his lower lip, hands lifting to the table again, signing slowly in time with his answers. “Reading, writing… I like learning. I used to work at the library before. You?” Cassidy kind of wished he hadn’t had to, even if the sentiment was true. He’d seen plenty of packs he’d gladly left in the dust on his way up to LA, and he couldn’t imagine being saddled with any of them, let alone not having much of a choice about it. Pack was supposed to be...well, not family, because he’d seen that gone to shit as well. But something more, and the idea of that being twisted always left a bad taste in his mouth. But, not the point now. Possibly not ever, since it wasn’t his business in the least. He listened carefully, watching Dawson’s hands as he talked, curiously. Sure, he knew enough to recognize sign for what it was, but he’d never taken the time to pick it apart. “Ah, I’m kind of boring, honestly. Work, cook, sleep,” he grinned, slightly sheepishly. “I’ll go out to the parks and hike and run a bit,” if he actually takes the time to get off his bike once he gets there anyway, “but that’s about as exciting as it gets. What do you like to write?” Dawson hesitated before responding, teeth worrying his lower lip as he processed what could have been said by the context of the other words that he had managed to get. Something about the park, and then a question about writing. Dawson figured he could at least cover off the second part and hope Cassidy didn’t take it personally that he didn’t mention the first bit. He wet his lower lip and replied, “Um, lots of stuff? I tend to just write stories. It’s stupid, I know. But it was a good way of keeping myself occupied after I was turned and didn’t know anyone.” He looked sheepish, “Nothing that helps pay the bills so I gotta get a job.” It was remarkable, though, how just the act of sitting with another werewolf was settling the itch under his skin, soothing that constant ache and buzz that never let him be. How amazing it was that so suddenly it went still. He knew it was only a temporary reprieve, but he would take what he could get. “Considering I don’t have a creative bone in my body, I think it’s really cool.” Cassidy said, rolling his shoulder in a half-shrug and fiddling slightly with the bracelet Kitty had given him. And he did - he really wasn’t the creative type, and the only place he might have a chance at the description was with his cooking. But he’d always been amazed at what some of the younger kids in the pack liked to do, liked to create. All he remembered from that age was...well, no, he didn’t remember a whole lot. Laced-alcohol worked wonders like that. “Sorry about the job though. Unless you like to work security, can’t really help.” Because that was about all he knew. And while any wolf could typically get a job like that without too many questions, he got the feeling that just wasn’t something Dawson would be interested in. “I could ask a couple people. See if they can keep an eye out if you want though? What kind of work are you looking for?” He paused to offer another thin smile as a waitress set up next to their table, unloading what looked to be both their orders. Not as long as he’d thought it’d be, given the rush, but, then, he didn’t know how long Dawson had been waiting, so, minor relief at least. And at this exact moment all he really wanted was the coffee, the pancakes could wait a second. The night out without his normal crash at the end was catching up with him, and while he was still good to go for a little while - chatting with Dawson, as stumbly and awkward as the start had been, had definitely woken him up a bit - he definitely needed caffeine. “Anything that helps pay the bills, honestly,” Dawson responded, shoulder hitching up again. He fell quiet, metaphorically speaking anyway, once he could start eating the food placed in front of him, his pizza fries (which were just fries with a pizza-style tomato and melted cheese topping) immediately making his stomach grumble. He glanced up at Cassidy and smiled a little before letting his attention drift to the food, trying - and failing - not to get his hopes up that maybe, just maybe, he’d taken his first steps to making a new friend. |