Paper Frogs Like Cottage Cheese

Participants:

dixon_icon.gif zoe_icon.gif

Scene Title Paper Frogs Like Cottage Cheese
Synopsis Zoe joins Dixon and Anthea for a meal.
Date October 23, 2008

Linderman Building


The little restaurant within the Linderman Building is always busy, no matter what time of day it may be; the first floor seems to be a good place for it for that reason. Today is much like the rest, with employees coming and going with coffee cups and whatever sandwiches or food items are on the menu. The tables inside are not really that crowded, since it is only the afternoon and most are already finished with lunch, and only waiting to go home for supper.

Dixon's large form perched on a comparatively tinier metal chair is easy to spot, and possibly humorous at the same time. The hulking man has most of his his back to the entrance, and is seated further in the corner. His blanket-like suit jacket lies over the back of the seat next to him, and just across the smooth tabletop sits a young girl with bushy brown curls. She is presently sitting quietly with a spoon in her hand, and a small plate of food in front of her; a spoonful of cottage cheese empties into her mouth with a small pop of her lips as it leaves, and the girl chews thoughtfully before trying to pick up another spoonful. Her motions are hesitant, and she holds the spoon palm-down, but otherwise the meal is ritual.

Zoe bustles into the employee caf with an air of harried confusion. Zoe isn't the sort despite her bookish appearance to seem harried; save when she's been trancing for a bit and has been abruptly disconnected from it. That's not altogether unusual, frequently her assistants have to interrupt her to make sure she eats. She doesn't notice Dixon and Anthea at first, preoccupied with her hunger as she acquires an egg salad sandwich, bottle of Snapple, and an apple…no wait, trade the apple for a big chocolate chip cookie. It's after she pays that she turns to consider a seat, and notices the large man and tiny child. She's momentarily endeared by the aesthetic, wishing for a camera as she walks toward the pair. "Dixon!" she greets brightly, and tsks. "Back to the door. Haven't you read Dune?" Then in a warm yet somewhat formal tone, "Hello, Anthea. May I sit with you?"

Dixon has an empty sandwich wrapper and a half-empty drink sitting there with him; he is taking a sip from the latter when Zoe's voice carries into his ears. The man leans back a few inches and turns his head in her direction. Dune, what? He gives her a quizzical look, first of all. He never always knows what she is talking about. Few ever do. "Apparently not. How are you doing?" He answers softly in that low voice, which makes it quite like someone indeed rustled a gorilla awake.

As for Anthea, she is used to people coming and going to talk to her father, and so is content to not show any attention to Zoe until the woman speaks to her. She is still half-chewing something, and while those big brown eyes look up and back to her spoon, the little girl doesn't verbalize until the chewing is done. "Sit?" That's a yes. The little girl's words are only mildly blurred, as she smashes a few bits of food deeper into her plate, glancing from the redhead and back a few more times. "I don'like beans." Which is why Anthea wants to either smash them or roll them away from the other foods even further. They are already in visibly strict groupings on the plate, in any case.

Zoe takes a seat, adding her own mix to the already charming aesthetic. "They're like little soldiers." she says to Anthea. "You can put them into little troops." Looking back to Dixon she nudges her glasses up her nose and makes a vague gesture. "Hungry." she admits. "We got a positively amazing shipment in from Crete today. You know how I get. I got the email about the gala event this morning. Will you be working it?"

Anthea pauses to glance at Zoe one more time, shifting in her seat to better stare down the plate. At some point she takes another careful bite of food. In his own seat, the mountain that is her father shifts as well; it is mostly just adjustment. The chair even gives a small squeal underneath, valiant in keeping him off of the floor. "Yes, I know how you get. I bet someone had to remind you to eat." Dixon turns the corners of his mouth up in a smile. "I will be, yeah. Seems like too much pomp for my tastes, but as long as it works for them." The man pauses to lift a napkin from the table with one meaty hand, reaching over towards Anthea. "Baby, you've got something on you." Which she does, eyeballing Zoe while Dixon wipes a stray spoon trail from her chin. "Done?" "Done." "Are you sure…?" Anthea now picks up her own napkin, unfolding it extremely carefully and fluttering it on the table in front of her before making an attempt to wipe her own face with it.

Zoe takes up her napkin, dabs her mouth with it, and as she talks, she starts folding it in various ways, doing it slowly as much to make sure she's correct at it as it is a possible visual distraction for Anthea. "I'm attending, of course. Uncle Daniel wouldn't hear otherwise. I suppose it'll be fun, but you know — it's not my sort of thing." Not anymore, anyway. Hard to believe the bookish young woman was born into glitzy society. "If I promise not to go as a ghost, will you make Mr. Zarek stop calling me Spooky?" And then she's finished it — an origami frog, which is placed in front of Anthea will all solemnity of a princess been given tribute.

"I can tell him, but that doesn't mean he'll listen." Unfortunate, but true. It is probably much like standing in front of an oncoming rainstorm and yelling 'NOOOO'. Though with a voice like Dixon's, maybe that may actually work. We'll see. "I'm thinking he'll be more open to fixing his work-world like that now more than before, though. He got told." There is a short, snort of a laugh with that.

Anthea has also been watching Zoe work, and when that frog appears out of a napkin in front of her, the little girl opens her mouth in a half-smile and reaches to poke at its paper nose. Once she does, her spoon is put down onto her plate and both hands reach out to hold the paper frog as well as turn it over to examine it better. After a few more seconds of that- "Ribbit-ribbit-ribbit.".

"Could you make your hands into fists when you say it?" Zoe asks, with an air that suggests that she is entirely kidding. She screws up her face and makes a fist — hers is significantly tinier than Dixon's. "I'm pretty sure one of yours is bigger than his head." She flashes him a grin, and looks pleased that Anthea's taken with the frog. Then she blinks. "Who told him?" Then, "Uncle Daniel?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm not sure of the specifics— just that I heard he messed something up." Whether he lies for her sake or not is up in the air. He could know every detail, or as little as he says. "…and I can try the fists, sure." The man chuckles again before he watches the frog-encounter curiously; Anthea mimics the noise a few more times and puts the napkin frog on her plate before she tucks in again. Sharing food with a paper frog, of course. He somehow does end up with cottage cheese on his pointed face.

"Oh goodness, please don't call me ma'am." Zoe laughs a bit nervously at that. "We're both employees, you know. You can call me Zoe. Actually, please do. Ma'am feels like all kinds of awkward. But it sounds like things are running smoothly once again? Now that things have been sorted out?"

Dixon likely calls most of the women he knows ma'am, but he doesn't say it again. The man smiles and nods, voice starting soft and ending in a disgruntled sort of rumble. "Okay, Zoe. Yeah. As smooth as they can be. I know for a fact that Kain likes to take the dirt roads instead of the nicely paved ones." Whatever that might mean. Anthea goes about her meal, with a moderate pace and every so often sharing that spoonful with the frog. By the end it's not so much a frog as it is a dirty napkin.

"If you get me another napkin, I'll make you another animal." Zoe tells Anthea, and looks back to Dyson. "For your sake I hope they don't force you to wear some awful costume. Perhaps a demure Green Hornet mask or something like a Crazy 88." She continues to work on her sandwich. "Am I keeping you?"


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October 23rd: All That Glimmers is Gold
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October 23rd: Alea Iacta Est, Part 1
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