Participants:
Scene Title | Where Are We Going? |
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Synopsis | The teens flirt, plan their next date, and contemplate what the future holds for the city and themselves. |
Date | February 7, 2011 |
Since Daryl and Koshka first met, they've spent time together more days than not— but he does still have the rest of his life to keep up with. Attending high school; he's not big on education, but dropping out would cause more problems than it would solve. Hitting the books tends to take place after curfew, because it's about the only thing that can.
Then there's the unplanned time, loitering in the park and watching the crowd go by. An old couple here, a jogger there— a pretty young thing in a plaid skirt and earbuds. Who gets a how-you-doin'? smile out of him… and nothing else. Oh, he's got it bad.
If afternoons are dull, daytime is even more a drag for Koshka. She doesn't have school to eat up those hours at the moment, though there's been talk of homeschool or correspondence so she could finish her education. As of yet, it hasn't happened. Afternoon and evening are what she's come to look forward to, when she can slip out for a while before curfew and catch up with Daryl. She should convince him to skip once or twice, though where they'd go is a lingering question.
For now, they'll have to settle for those afternoon meetings and planned for weekends.
"I saw that," Koshka calls out to Daryl, from somewhere behind. She'd gotten his message, though getting out the door took a little longer than expected. Dishes are the bane of all teenagers. With a teasing grin, she steps up alongside Daryl. "Mmn.. She's kinda cute, though."
Daryl rolls his eyes, even as he slips an arm around Koshka's waist. What, he's not even allowed to look now? Oh, but— that last comment of hers catches him by surprise. "You think so, huh?" he murmurs. It could have been meant innocently, but then he took her for an innocent before and was proven wrong about it.
"Not as cute as some people," Koshka continues, with a small shrug. "But not bad. Think it's the skirt, kinda like… almost a goth punk think." Witha slight tilt of her head, she looks up at Daryl. She could be teasing still, or she could be perfectly serious. At the moment, it's hard to say. "What do you think?"
"I was thinking Catholic school," replies Daryl, "she didn't have any black makeup or ankhs or anything. She did look pretty good in it…" He tries to sound a little dubious about it. "But I think you'd look even better. You should get one and try it out, maybe with one of those white tops?"
"Not all goths do the black make up or ankh thing," Koshka points out quietly. She leans a little, closer to Daryl. "Catholic schoolgirl look? I could probably pull it off." She'd have to go shopping, something she'd been considering anyway. "With or without the liquidpaper white face and dark contrasting make up, though. That's going to be a tough decision."
Daryl's other arm starts sneaking its way around her shoulders… until she mentions the liquid paper, and then he just stops and laughs a little. "The albino look? Seriously?" So much for paying attention in biology class. "Not that you couldn't, it just seems… really weird, that's all. There is still way too much I don't know about you yet."
"Like, need more sunlight look," Koshka laughs. "The whole vampire, pale skin thing." With a small smile, she glances up at Daryl. "I don't know if I could manage it. Might be fun to try, though." Wonder what Samara and Brian would think if she showed up in goth motif. With a pause, she looks up again, nodding. "There's lots I don't know about you, too."
Daryl pauses, trying to picture it in his head. It's tough, but if he squints a little and the sunlight is angled just right… "Guess we could give it a shot. Vampires are pretty played out, but I bet you could still rock that look." He takes a step back, still hanging on to her hands. "What do you want to know?"
Koshka gives a small swing of hands, almost like a muted swing dance. "Like… more about you." Which is the obvious answer. "About your family, and your favorite kind of ice cream, and where you go to school." She looks up at Daryl, grinning. "I don't think I could pull it off. Maybe in look but… Not really me."
"Well, it's just me and my dad now," says Daryl, making a face. They covered the basics of that one the other day at the dome. "He's a CPA, so, y'know, real party animal there. Usually doesn't get home till around eight-thirty, and then he just crashes and watches TV."
"Favorite ice cream? I dunno… not like I've had a lot of it. Pizza's good," speaking of food in general. The school question goes unanswered for the time being.
"Pizza is good," Koshka agrees quietly. She looks downward, a foot scuffing against the ground. "I live with Brian." Which has also been explained, after a fashion. "My dad… left and…" A shrug is offered, in place of further explanation. "What kinds of things do you want to know?"
Hmm… 'with Brian', not 'with Brian and Samara'. Which means that relationship still has some distance to cover. Okay, good to know. Daryl lets go one hand, keeping the other as he starts walking, oh, thataway. "What do you want to do with your life? God knows I get that about twice a week."
"I don't know," Koshka replies as she steps in alongside Daryl. "Maybe.. stand up comedy? Samara wanted to be a dancer, told her should should go for it anyway. But I don't know what I want to be." It might have come up a few times, with her father, but none of those conversations stand out, and it hasn't come up with her guardians. "One thing I want to do is stop the injustices. However I have to. Probably would've joined the military, if none of this happened." This, being registration and all else.
"The army?" Because all military is 'the army'. "I don't know if camouflage is your color, either." Daryl reaches up, putting a hand up in front of her hair to simulate an imagined buzz cut.
"Maybe you should be an actress! You scared the crap outta me that one time— man, that was funny as hell. We gotta do it again while the thing's still up."
"Psh, I'd go Marines." Koshka grins, puffing herself up. "Warrior all the way. Take the country back over and fix all the wrongs that our illustrious leader has made." She might sound like she's joking, speaking lightly of the very real situation many are in, but she's serious. She gives a shrug and a light sigh. "Maybe an actress. I don't know though, scaring people is different than acting."
Daryl bites his lip, sounding dubious about the idea, even as a hypothetical thing. "Sounds like a good way to butt up against all the really dangerous types. I think you gotta have issues, to really go in for that sort of thing." Hands are shoved into his pockets, and he stops in place, thinking back to a few days earlier. "What about the gig with the card game? I bet I could get you in on that if you wanted, lots of guys are suckers for a pretty face." And a few girls, not that that occurs to him.
"What, you mean you like the whole thing that's going on?" Koshka stops, too, turning to look up at Daryl. "The whole idea of giving over control to a megalomaniac? Because that's pretty much what's been happening. Those cards that mark you as one thing or another? Just like how the whole Nazi Germany thing started. Only difference is they're not being open about it." Yet.
With a sigh, Koshka gives a shrug and a shake of her head. "Sorry. It's… just… sorry." She drops her gaze, feet carrying her a couple of steps away. "Card games aren't a way of life. Fun hobby, but… like pickpocketing and stuff. It's fun and exciting. Not sure I could live off it."
"I'm not saying I want it to happen," Daryl says, looking into Koshka's eyes - reeling a little as the conversation goes from light to heavy and back again. "But a straight-up fight? That's asking to get curb-stomped. You want to fight something like that, you gotta go guerrilla."
"And the cards— yeah, it's small-time, but how much do we really need right now? Everybody's gotta start somewhere. Gotta have a foot in the door for when something bigger comes along."
"Wouldn't be a fight on their terms," Koshka agrees. She stuffs her hands into her pockets, shoulders hunching. "Just… I don't want to be sitting on the sidelines and pretending to be content with the state of things." Still hunched slightly, she turns and looks up at Daryl, worried or afraid. Maybe both. "We could find something, like the cards." She doesn't want to be a criminal all her life, she told Brian she wouldn't go pickpocketing again. "— Before my dad left, he gave me his credit card."
Daryl nods, not disputing the point, but it doesn't put him any closer to knowing how to throw a spanner in the works. Other than continuing to pretend like his own ability still hasn't manifested yet. "Gave you, like— you have to pay for it, or he'll pay for it, or what?" He doesn't get how that fits in with anything else.
"Like… comes out of his account," Koshka says with a shrug. She'd thought about that card before, a number of times, but had never had reason to use it. Careful planning and keeping track of the money had the cash her father had given her last a long time. "I… he gave it to me… for if and when I needed money. — If you… if there's something you needed..? As long as we didn't go crazy."
A shrug from Daryl. "Nothing I really need right now… I've got months still before dad'll really bug my ass to go get a day job." Months should be plenty of time to figure out how to avoid getting a day job, right? "I'd say save it in case one of us gets into trouble or something."
"That's what I've been doing," Koshka says. Kind of. It's at least why she'd never mentioned it to anyone else. She hesitates, digging the toe of a shoe against the ground, then takes those couple of steps back to Daryl. "We'll find something, though. There's lots out there that isn't grocery stores, fast food, or comic book stores."
Daryl considers it - still failing to come up with anything specific to fill that gap - only to be distracted by her approach, easing a half-step closer at about the same time. "Yeah, we— we'll find something." He likes the sound of that 'we' part, it has a certain ring to it.
Closing the distance, Koshka tips her head forward a little, to rest against Daryl's chest. "You know, I wish parents weren't… parent like. I'd like to …be inside. At home. So we could just crash on the couch and watch music videos or …whatever."
And isn't that a blank that can be filled in about a thousand different ways? Daryl moves over to get a hug in, no longer in any hurry to go find somewhere to go or something to do. This here will work just fine.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Koshka completes the hug. "We could take Brian out for …dinner? I guess.. Maybe he'll decide he likes you after all. He's just…" Protective. "He'll like you better, when he gets to know you."
Daryl rolls his eyes. "Yeah, maybe he'll decide he likes me. And maybe monkeys will fly outta my ass. I'm just glad he didn't bust out a Police Positive, y'know?" He'd sound more annoyed about it if he didn't have an armful of pretty young thing to take the edge off.
Koshka offers a little shrug. She can't go and explain everything, she'd rather not, but she understands some of why Brian might be a little protective, of her and his house. Something she'll have to talk to Brian about, to be sure. "What else do you want to do, one day?"
Biting back the first answer that comes to mind - something involving a couch - Daryl shrugs. "Haven't worked that out yet. Been busy enough just keeping up with stuff… I mean, everything could change up again in a year or two. Maybe the city gets blown to hell again and we gotta bail to Atlantic City— or maybe there'll be something else we can get in on."
After a slight hesitation, Koshka nods. She tightens her hug for a moment, then allows her hands to drop. "Let's get some food. And …we'll figure out what to do after? Maybe sneak off to Red Hook again and see what's happening there." She looks up at Daryl, offering a small smile.