Participants:
| Scene Title | Of Nite Owls and Exploding Manatees |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | The Nite Owl sees a new customer. Teasing amongst employees and idle but slightly morbid chitchat ensues. |
| Date | December 21, 2008 |
The Nite Owl is a survivor from ages past - one of those ancient diners with huge plate glass windows, checkerboard linoleum floor, and a neon owl over the entrance that blinks at those entering. Inside, there's an L-shaped main counter, complete with vintage soda fountain and worn steel stools. All of the cooking is done on the ranges ranked against the rear wall. The outer wall is lined with booths upholstered in cracked scarlet vinyl, tables trimmed with polished chrome. Despite its age, it's been lovingly maintained. The air is redolent with the scent of fresh coffee, vanilla, and frying food.
I know tonight might seem like dinner and a movie, but to me it is much much more, cause I'm bettin' my whole life you're gonna love me~
The diner is mostly empty now. Just a few employees present. Brian is one of those employees. The music plays gently as the young cook/dish washer stabs his fork into the steak he's been eating. It's late afternoon to early evening. The weather outside is not so beautiful, rain coming down, gently, but still coming down. Brian humms along gently with the song as he eats
Huh? (Type "help" for help.)
Because of the diner's emptiness, Delilah has made herself a cup of coffee and is currently flitting from stool to stool along the counter with a Lysol wipe or two. Think of all the butts that have been there! It's only sanitary. Plus, she is a personal clean-freak, and over the month and change she has been here, Delilah has brought with her disinfectant sprays and Swiffer mops.
Since starting, she and Brian have likely been on neutral ground, and even when they bear each other's company it is largely common courtesy and as little small talk as possible. Truth be told, Delilah is getting tired of it by now. So the redhead pipes up between wiping, and her voice even gives her a spook. It was quiet. "Don'tcha just hate this weather?"
Sometimes empty stomachs simply do not let their owner wait to find their usual spot to eat. Such is the situation now for Zachery, who ends up entering the Nite Owl after business dragged him into the neighborhood. His coat is splattered with rain drops, and he looks out of place almost the moment he steps inside, clearing his throat and taking off his glasses to clean them on a sleeve. He frowns at nothing in particular. Bah, rain. As usual, the scent of antiseptics follows him inside.
"What?" Brian asks with a little shock as the girl speaks to him. His brows arch as he peers at her. "What did you just say?" He heard her fine, it's just odd to have her actually talking to him. Though their possible resolution of differences might have to be held off. Brian jerks a thumb over to his shoulder to Zachery. Then, "Welcome to the Nite Owl, sir." He murmurs over his shoulder, before going to eat again.
What what? She spoke, you nerd, it's your fault you didn't expect it. "I asked if you hated this weather." As for the door, she is already on it! Delilah spins on her heel once her attention draws over to Zachery. "Hi!" What Brian said? As she passes him and his food by, the wet wipe in her gesturing hand waggles out to smack him in the forehead. All the while, Dee has her eyes on the newcomer, bearing a bright smile. "Have a seat wherever you'd like, sir. Would you like a menu?"
Zachery looks up when he's spoken to, gives a twitchy nod in greeting, and an even more forced smile. "Yes. Ah- Thanks. I'll just…" He trails off again, in favor of wiping some rain off of his face. Delilah's smile only seems to discomfort him further, and his smile shows his anxiety. He knew listening to other people was a bad idea. Eating places he's never been before. Nevertheless, once he puts his glasses back on - now with less fog! - he makes his way toward an empty table toward one of the corners. "A menu would be good, yes. Lunch and all that."
"Oh. Sure. I hate everything." Brian says over a mouthful, of steak. Then his head bobs to the side as he's thwapped. A broad grin comes on his lips, as he looks over his shoulder to the girl. He won't say anything else. Can't play around customers, that's against the rules.
Delilah circles around the counter, plucking up a menu, a roll of silverware, and matching placemat as she goes. She slips them all onto the table right after Zachery finds his corner. "Special today is fried cod, and our soup for today is potato." The silverware clinks as she sets it down inside of its napkin. She's been getting good at this. "Can I get you somethin' to drink?" Dee continues this infectious chirping somehow, her accent blurring at least a few words together along the way.
And yet Zachery, once seated, appears completely and utterly unaffected by the enthusiasm. He sits and lifts his hand for a moment, but then ignores the fleeting urge to reallign the napkin and silverware he was brought. Ahem. He. shoots a quick glance over in Brian's direction, before his attention is settled back on the other employee. "Yes. Some tea. Or actually, just some water." He pauses, mouth still open, then continues. "… There is such a thing as potato soup?"
Finishing off his plate, Brian goes to gather his dishes before heading into the back. Once everything is in one balanced hand, he goes walking towards the back. As he walks behind Delilah, a playful flick is aimed at the back of one of her ears. Then he retreats into the kitchen. Potato soup. eww.
"Well, to be technical, it is cream of potato. There's dairy innit, other veggies, big ol' chopped potatoes." Delilah's lips purse in thought just as Brian walks past her and nips her in the ear. The redhead frowns and throws him a disgruntled look, which transforms back into a smile when it goes back to Zachery. It's as if she is assuming he'll understand the whole 'ignore him, he's a turd' expression. "I'll give you a minute to look at things? Be back with your water." Though between moving to do so and coming back with it, she probably does elbow or otherwise muscle around Brian somehow.
Zachery's gaze flits between the employees as one passes the other, before he gives an awkward but amused grin. "Right." The menu is flipped open and looked through, between short glances at the rest of the place.
A grunt is given as Delilah elbows him and some off the cuff british jokes is made under his breath while he heads into the back. Moments later he reemerges with his hands free, and goes to take a seat at the counter. Waiting for Zach to make his order so he can go make it. But for now he'll sit and glower at Delilah.
For some reason, after her successful physical contact, it only serves to make her more amused. At least it is past the terms of hating him, and now Delilah just smirks smugly over a shoulder at Brian glowering at her. It isn't mean so much anymore. It probably hasn't been for a week or two, but now it is most obvious. Meanwhile, she treks back to Zachery with his glass of water, the halfmoons of ice clicking around at the surface. "Anything looking good?"
"Actually, I think I'll just have that fried cod?" Zachery closes the menu again, and offers it back. "Quiet here today. Must be the weather." He frowns, then. "— Not that I 've been here before. So I wouldn't know how… in… comparison…" Yeah. At this point he just shuts up, and clears his throat again. Following advice to make small talk with strangers is harder than it seems. Maybe he should have ordered a stronger drink.
"I think it's the weather." Brian says amiably. Giving a grin to the older man. "We usually got more people then this." The young man goes to stand and make his way over to Zachery. Aww camraderie. "Don't think nobody comes here cause the food sucks. I swear it's edible." A playful grin. As he walks up to the man, a gentle shoulder check is gifted to his younger coworker.
Enough of that. Dee seems to just ignore that next bump, only after tilt-a-rolling her eyes for a second. "It really is the weather. I slipped twice on my way here, and got stuck in the bank outside my trailer. Cold and wet and eugh. Nobody wants to go anywhere unless they have to, huh?" The young redhead props a hand on her hip, neck craning to the side as she turns to echo at Brian. "You heard the man, Brian. Fish it is. Would you like some sides with that? You get two." Talking to two people at once can be a chore, but she seems to manage with ease.
"Fries?" Zachery answers, all good and integrated and ignoring the nagging urge to say the 'correct' word instead. He offers Brian a halfhearted grin- at least he's less of a trainwreck when he has multiple people to focus on. "It's not so bad, the weather. Going through it, maybe. But still, places to be, people to see." Which he doesn't mind in the least, it seems! As long as it's work. "We can't all have a cozy diner job."
"Got it, dollface." Brian says with a smirk, going back to the kitchen. "Nice to meet you, sir." Even though he didn't really. The young man goes to prepare said meal.
Delilah puts the back of her hand to the opposite side of her mouth, muttering an aside to Zachery. "You can go on with that 'round me." She'll know what he's talking about, absolutely. A sneaky hand swipes up the menu from the table, right under his nose. "Cozy? I guess it is." Dee makes a slight tittering sound. "What do you do, then? Or am I being nosy?" You started it, just sayin'.
How is it that somehow his every conversation goes straight into the direction of work subjects? Again, not that he minds. As far as he's concerned, what he does is pretty much his life. "I, ah. Work in forensic pathology." He doesn't expand on that just yet, perhaps curious to see whether someone like Delilah will know what that even means. Judgemental much? Nah.
"That's like CSI-stuff, innit? Picking apart dead people? Do you work in a morgue, then?" That's a …'sort of'. She knows what American television tells her, at least. "That's nifty." While Dee doesn't seem outwardly bothered by autopsies, et cetera- if faced with a dead person or persons she would likely squick more. But for now, it is more interesting than it is gross.
There's only a brief sigh that hints at the slight annoyance Zachery feels when - once again - a TV show is brought up after the mention of his work. "/Sort/ of. Less pretty people. More… unexpected sounds and body odors from the recently deceased. Then take away the credit and attention that's usually given to the people actually solving the bloody cases they're forced to look into and tada, there you have it." Despite all that, he still seems pretty genuinely happy with it!
"I watched a documentary once on what happens after your body dies. It was… well. Too much information for me on a Friday night. Death is pretty nasty." Dee laughs nervously at that bit, one foot rocking on its side. "At least it's always interesting, right? Seeing all of the different ways people kick the bucket?"
"Oh, definitely sometimes." Zachery takes a sip of his water, seeming suddenly much more at ease, sitting up straight and cracking a grin that is perhaps a little too enthusiastic for the subject matter coming up. "A few weeks ago I had to examine this one man who had died taking a bath, but his neighbors only found him a day and a half after that, so his face was all…" He briefly lifts his hands to around his own head in a failed attempt to show Delilah how big the man's face was, "And his stomach. Hell, the stomach. Have you ever seen that video of the exploding dead manatee?" … You'd almost think this was a perfectly normal everyday question, the way it's asked.
Delilah tries to hold in a laugh, but it only half succeeds. "..I can't say that I have." She bites at her bottom lip after a second of thought, however. "I have seen roadkill, though- did he have all four legs in the air or something?" Somewhere in the back of her head, Dee also makes a note to look up said 'exploding dead manatee', in spite of her best interests. "Gosh, I hope I don't die like that. I'd like a good old boring death. In my sleep." Growing old is her idea of a good death. Unless there were prospects of some kind of Valhalla otherwise.
"There's plenty of people who grow old, die of natural causes and are still able to sustain post-mortem injuries. Some of them manage to die of a heart attack, THEN fall face forward into the business end of one of those drive-around lawn mowers. I've seen it happen." Zachery claims, though this may or may not be true. "I don't envy the people at the funeral home she ended up at."
Delilah visibly winces. "Ow. Oh, ouch." In the back somewhere, a bell chimes, and the redhead glances over her shoulder. "Order-up, rubber-gloves." Dee smiles once more before she treks into the back to fetch Zachery's late lunch/early dinner. There may be some more questions about death and dead persons in passing- and hopefully it'll serve to make the pathologist comfortable enough to return for another meal, another time.
 December 21st: In or Out |
 December 22nd: I Said it was Complicated |