Dining Un-Alone


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Scene Title Dining Un-Alone
Synopsis Two co-workers who are respectively having dinner by themselves, end up at the same table to discuss the work status and a bit about each other.
Date April 11

Corinthian Bar and Lounge

Situated on the uppermost floor of the building, the Corinthian Bar and Lounge boasts an arched ceiling whose many small, square panes of glass double as a huge skylight. Of course, the large and open room is also lit by a dozen half-dome chandeliers suspended from that double-height ceiling and several high wall sconces. Brass fixtures gleam in the warm light, while the room's scattered potted palms drink it in with their bladed foliage. A ring of doubled marble columns supports the weight of the skylight dome and defines the two sections of the room: that lofty open space in the center; the quieter, slightly darker and more private edges of the lounge.

The tables are elegant rectangles of fine black glass, the seating a mixture of russet-upholstered couches and comfortably-padded oaken chairs. Most of the floor is covered by carpet shaded in the reds and golds of autumn, save for a runner down the very center of the room which is colored the exact shade of purple found in wisteria blossoms. The bar food at the lounge is much like its decor: expensive and beautifully arranged; but unlike many such spendy places, it's also very good. So is the alcohol.

With nary a bit of self-consciousness about the matter, Travis Flynn is dining alone. Or, at least, he's waiting for a meal alone. He's seated at a table, with a practiced left hand leafing through a relatively nerd-sized book. His right hand is idly tapping a finger on a frosted glass of beer. The server pauses to address him. Some words are exchanged, and Flynn offers a polite-yet-distracted word or two, a smile, and a nod. As she moves away, he does glance up from his reading to inspect her parting figure. Social recluse, perhaps, but still a bit of a Guy, apparently.

Yana is, as usual, the woman in the back dress. Cut properly across her figure, and resting over her features perfectly. Almost a pencil skirt neat the bottom, a split resides on either side up to her thighs, enough to allow a tasteful flash of leg, which go without stockings. Often one to dine alone, and having expensive tastes, it isn't unlikely to see her here at the lounge, looking like she just stepped off of the cover of a rich and famous magazine. Definitely a woman of higher breeding, patiently awaiting the arrival of her own meal. It is a questionable and curious thing that a woman such as her is dining alone.

Meanwhile, people don't tend to think it remarkable that Travis Flynn dines alone… Although with some dry cleaning attention to his jacket, and the advice of a stylist regarding his shock of jet black hair, as well as the slightly more frequent encounter with a razor… he could be appealing enough to be professionally appealing. However, the man hunches over his book and draws into himself as a default, disappearing into the background. He is certainly alert, however… Yana does not escape his notice. On general principles at first, recognition follows soon after… He sits up straight, closing his book. "Huh." He comments to himself.

Clever to a fault, he actually did have a quirky greeting planned, had he made it over to greet one of the few people in the city he was vaguely familiar with. However, fate slaps the man in the face. Having the bad taste to wear running shoes with his formal jacket, one of Travis' laces has come untied. As he rises, his chair rocks a bit, causing him to correct himself, which knocks over his drink. "Shit." He announces, stepping and reaching to catch it… he steps upon said shoelace and ends up as a loud, "Gack!" and thud as he falls to the floor, dragging his beer-spilling glass with him to shatter on the floor. Unfortunate.

Of all of the women in the city of New York, Dr. Elvira Blite is perhaps one of the more difficult ones. Hard to impress, and very easy to offend. Just from the looks of her, first impressions are very lasting, whatever they might be. And she is at least a little familiar with Travis, if just in brief passing from work. Baring that in mind, his re-entrance leaves much to be desired. Casually, Yana's bored glance lifts up just in time to catch his fall and misfortune that befalls him. There is confusion behind her eyes in the initial moments to follow, and a peer from her dark look right after, assessing the situation. "You are perhaps, alright, I would hope? Perhaps one too many for such an early hour?" Her concern goes only as far as wanting to know what happened, as opposed to the general well being.

Beer on the -face-, even. Excellent. Getting to his feet, it's readily apparent that Flynn seems neither inebriated nor clumsy. He's actually rather graceful in his movements… when not tripping over random shoelaces. Taking the offered napkin from the slightly shell-shocked server, he glances over and flashes a grin, "You'd think. That's my first on the floor…" He dries his face with the napkin, running it through wet hair with no obvious change in random spikeyness. "It's not all that…" He glances at his watch, frowns, taps it a few times… Then sighs and shakes his head, "Didn't think it was that early." He smirks, bending to help pick up the broken glass. The staff members manage to shoo him off, and he returns his attention to Yana, moving to a more appropriate conversational range, "I was going to try to say something interesting, but after all that idiocy I can't quite recall what it was." He rolls his eyes skyward and gives a bit of a sigh before offering, "I am glad to see you, though. I could count the faces I'd recognize in this city on a hand."

"Oh, well then I suppose that ranks me as fortunate. At least in the aspect of being memorable." Yana offers up. She herself is with cocktail. A martini from the looks of it, properly resting upon her table in front of her, and barely touched. "Especially considering the lack of structure that we seem to have as a result of dome events." She decides to wet her tongue a little, lifting the glass up into her slender fingers and taking a gentle sip. "It would be bad form to turn you away, back to your table after the display you just underwent, so to mend what was quite an embarrassing moment, I feel inclined to offer you a seat?" she of course means the chair that is directly across from her, at her table. It is empty, and there is no indication that it was occupied since she got there.

"Can't have bad form, now." Flynn offers, his eyebrows quirking upward as he eases into the indicated seat. He gives his face another rub-down with the napkin before offering it up to the arriving server, who is bringing him his second attempt at a beer. A stout or porter, from the looks of it. "Thank you." After taking a sip, "I'd wager you already know you're memorable. I can't possibly be the first man to trip overhimself en route to talk to you." Giving a half-grin, Travis sets his glass lightly on the table, "Classy place. Can't say I've been in a great many of them, but options were limited where I came from."

"The first to survive." Yana answers and waits a bit or so before finishing her statement, "Public humiliarion that is. Which is surprising, considering you just took a spill across the floor." her head cants to one side ever so slightly, "If you were perhaps a stranger, and I were in a much less acceptable mood— Well, we'll just both be glad that it didn't happen, and leave it at that." Her shoulders straighten just a little more, lifting while she looks him over, mostly for the sake of ensuring he isn't still soiled from the alcohol. "And yes," she casts her dark gaze around the establishment for a second, "The place comes highly recommended for it's atmosphere, and hopefully the food. The verdict is still out on that. You join the team at perhaps a rather difficult time. Are you taking well to the hiatus that we're under? It must be frustrating to be new, and unestablished in these times."

Flynn's smile is grim, though he doesn't lose the laid-back take it in stride undertone. Nodding, "Polite company limits me my full range of expression on the matter." He leans back in his seat, frowning thoughtfully at his glass before continuing, "I'm not here to see the sights, and I'll be blunt — If not for the research, I'd never voluntarily move to New York. I'd rather spend my off hours out on a lake, wandering through a forest somewhere… I'm just -not- urban." Travis bites his lip for a moment, cutting off what could turn into a rant on the matter, "But, well, I guess 'NO', I'm not taking well, but it is what it is." Pausing for a sip, he clears his throat then inquires, "Yourself? Many side projects underway?"

She can appreciate the answer with it's honesty and lacking in sweetening the picture. And her face registers actual interest, as opposed to the typical individual who ask 'how are you' because it is just the thing to do. "I have to commend you for sticking to it, even though you would favor other situations. Perhaps there is a department that can have you out into the field, at the lake like you desire. Considering the company's reach, it wouldn't be surprising. I was once told that if you serve the Institute well, your well rewarded." With her hair taken all to one side, hanging down the front of her shoulder, she is left without the need to keep knocking it from her face every few seconds. "And you could say that, yes. I've managed to occupy myself during the downtime. I will have quite an interesting development to share once we all get back into function."

Giving a nod, "Well, if you need a psychologist, a respiratory therapist, or for whatever bizarre turn of events a musician… let me know." Travis flashes a half-grin, "I don't really respond well to idle time, I'm afraid." He idly scratches at a cheek, considering for a moment, "I might be interested in a day or two on said lake, but I don't think the field would work for my first project. I'm hoping to be accumulating… Ach, a good ton or two of functional MRI data, after which — Well, that depends on where that data might lead. But, not really a wilderness-friendly endeavor, I'm afraid. Might sound a bit contrived, but so long as the bills are paid, I'm pretty content with the opportunity to indulge my curiosity as its own reward."

"You should speak with Dr. Sheridan." Yana mentions, her fingers gripping the toothpick speared into her olive in order to idly stir her drink around. "She is high in the same department, and can possibly afford you something in the area of what you're looking for, workwise. She has been a little out of touch as of late, as of course we all have, though I could pass your name along to her, and see what comes of it? I may be just a virologist, but I do have a few connections." She has lost a little of the lazy look in her eyes. Not quite perked up, but she has developed a degree of interest. "I have to admit, Mr. Flynn, that at first glance, you would likely be on the list of people that I couldn't tolerate to be around— Mind you, that list is very long, so don't take it personally, but you seem to be pleasant and well put together. Established if you will."

"To be honest, I seem to end up on quite a number of those lists…" Travis pauses for a moment to take a sip from his glass, considers it for a moment, then chuckles, "I can rub people the wrong way. Honesty trumps tact, I guess, and that gets on most people's nerves." He rolls a shoulder in a bit of a shrug, then offers a quirk of a smile, "But I appreciate the observation. I do know who I am, at least." His eyes narrow a bit, and his expression dimples a bit as the half-smile deepens, "You seem very straightforward, though a bit more aloof than I'm usually comfortable with. But… I'll take straightforward in the bargain every day." He changes direction, "Virology. Fascinating." He doesn't even sound sarcastic, "I was always interested in pathology back when I was doing clinicals… My cardiopulmonary clinicals, I mean. Didn't have the patience to get through organic chemistry, unfortunately."

"That is a fair assumption." Yana nods, agreeing, "I at least make up for it by being as polite as possible. I was raised to view rudeness as unacceptable behavior. Admittedly, the death of my former husband has left me a little bit distant all around. Though as you can see, I am at least somewhat approachable." her small shoulders lift in a half shrug, and she finally stop playing with the parts of her drink. "Organic chemistry does take a certain learning type to get through. I suppose my ability to identify viral particles and assess their nature made my career decision that much easier. Compared to your average student of virology, some might say I have an unfair advantage. However, it's more like possessing a natural talent than anything else. Cannot fault me for that, is more useful to congradulate."

"Like faulting tall people for being good at basketball." Travis offers, breaking to take a long swig from his glass. He pauses for a moment afterward, indulging in a bit of an internal debate, "My second wife died when I was about halfway through grad school. I was already a bit jaded and distant when I met -her- on account of my first wife being… just horrifically maladjusted." He gives a bit of a chuckle, then changes back to the other topic, "You know, I was kind of excited when I tested positive, had to Register… I mean, I was already a bit weird, having a super-power would just be a cool addition." He smirks faintly, "Alas, nada. Kinda like winning the lottery right after the fund goes bankrupt."

She could afford the situation a light chuckle, but it would be uncharacteristic of her. Though it does seem as if the comment has her at least a little amused, "Well, give it time. You are perhaps quite new with whatever your ability is. Given some time, you might be able to find an active use for it, with some control and direction of course." Yana nods. Hearing that he has lost a spouse as well, she can at least relate to him on that level. Even if she is responsible for her husband's passing. This is of course something she keeps to herself, and doesn't push the issue very far. "Just give it time. And with the assistance of the Institute, you could yet be entitled to the lottery you thought was coming." And just in time as well, the food is ready, promptly brought out by the server who takes the liberty of bringing Travis' to Yana's table. "Ah. It's time to test the mettle of the dining here. Shall we?" Yana prepares her napkin to place properly in her lap.

Giving a nod, Travis draws a deep breath and exhales with a suitable show of trepidation, "We shall. I'm notoriously picky," He confides, "To the extent that I actually took the time to learn how to cook while still a slovenly bachelor." He reaches out to adjust his plate, nudging the half-full glass of beer in the process. It tips, teeters… and, despite what would seem likely, physics favor the man's fortune this time. The glass rocks back, wobbles a bit, and is still.

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