*headdesk* [Open]

[ghostlygeorge]

"I've got a better idea....Let's not. Obviously she doesn't want us asking and I'm not furthering your career in sadism anytime soon."

A career in sadism, mmm.... George shook her head and plopped down. Kat had held her hand out in that general area. An invitation, right? Mopey was starting to bug her. She had never met someone so antisocial in all her life! Really, this guy must absolutely hate to be around people. But he came to a coffee shop and sat down. He had to want some kind human contact, right?

"Mopey, have a seat!" George said kinda forcefully. "We go to the same school. It's not like I'm some total stranger, who wants to know her for other reasons." She arched an eyebrow. "We don't even have to ask her about her power." Smiling, she realized she talking about Kat as if she wasn't sitting right there.

"Anyway Kat, don't think I'm taking liberties. If you want me to go, I'll go." George grinned widely at Clocks. "But not without a fight...

[Kat]

Kat waved at the seats again. She would have fled already if she hadn't wanted to talk to the pair. She couldn't help but look at 'Mopey', but she wasn't disgusted... more slightly morbidly fascinated. She tore her gaze from him as George spoke.

"We go to the same school. It's not like I'm some total stranger, who wants to know her for other reasons."

She had a sip of her drink and almost choked. "Wait... what other reasons? I think I missed something." She considered that a moment, as George continued.

"We don't even have to ask her about her power."

"Did I do something wrong, at the school? Should I not have come here this morning? I..." Maybe coming here wasn't a great idea after all.

"Anyway Kat, don't think I'm taking liberties. If you want me to go, I'll go. But not without a fight... "

Kat shook her head. "No, don't go." She leaned forward a bit. "You guys aren't here to take me back or anything?" She looked between George and her companion.

*Dwarf? He looks more like a hot faerie than a dwarf.* Kat thought, the amusement (and a bit of a blush) came unbidden to her face int he form of a faint smile.

[Clocks]

Clocks groaned, but sat down after a short pause. Fuck. He was always a sucker when it came to being entreated with. Remy would probably be laughing his insufferable fucking head off right now if he could see this, letting his darling dong-saeng get bossed around by a girl.

Did I do something wrong, at the school? Should I not have come here this morning? I... At this, Clocks sighed, rested his chin in his palm in his trademark languid style.

"No, but it is rather early to be up and about." Upon completing the thought, he turned back to George, a quizzical look tacked over his face. "Why are you here, anyway?"

[ghostlygeorge]

Did I do something wrong, at the school? Should I not have come here this morning? I..." - Kat

"Why are you here, anyway?" - Clocks

George frowned, Kat was a bit jumpy. And Mopey was a snarky. At least he sat down. Must be his job as a masochist. "Kat calm down, the school is not a prison. We're not here to take you back or anything. What could you have done wrong?" George asked, mostly to herself. She didn't expect Kat to answer.

"And you Mopey, I'm here 'cause I'm not necessarily welcome in the kitchen..." George muttered. The kitchen incident was a paradox. It was and was not one of her finer moments. She wasn't sure on whether she should be proud or embarrassed. "I could ask the same, Mopey, you obviously don't like humans, so why come to a coffee shop, milling with people?"

[Kat]

"...the school is not a prison. We're not here to take you back or anything. What could you have done wrong?" George reassured.

"Oh, that's alright, then." Kat said, but George continued talking to her Mopey. She looked between them as the other girl interrogated him.

"..so why come to a coffee shop, milling with people?"
"They don't mill people here, they mill bean... oh, nevermind." Kat began to interject, but decided it was too lame of a joke.

*You probably don't have to try so hard... they're weird too. It won't be so hard for them to like you.* she thought.

[Clocks]

And you Mopey, I'm here 'cause I'm not necessarily welcome in the kitchen...

Clocks stared at George.

For a long time.

Really, he should've just quelled his curiosity and come out and asked. It was probably something simple and mildly annoying, like she set fire to an oven, or her powers accidentally blew things up. At a school like theirs, anything was possible right? But, oh no, Clocks could never be straightforward about anything, and his imagination was more than making up for the difference there.

Wisely, though, he decided not to ask.

I could ask the same, Mopey, you obviously don't like humans, so why come to a coffee shop, milling with people?

"My business is my business," he said shortly, finding the idea of disclosing the details of a particularly tiring mini-exorcism not exactly favorable. Besides, he had more loyalty to his ghosts than to these people, no matter how much they tried to wriggle and squeeze and flail madly into his life.

They don't mill people here, they mill bean... oh, nevermind.

...Okay, that made him smile a bit, wondering why he hadn't thought of that one first. He shoved the evidence behind his drink, though, trying hard to maintain his surly look. He was not going to be inviting, damnit! Clocks had every intention of being the most ornery jerkoff he could be until they decided to heed his earlier request and just leave him alone. No one called you 'Mopey' or stared at your face with a perverse interest when you were alone.

...

But then, no one made cracktastic jokes about human slaughter when you were alone, either.

Yeah, okay, maybe it's a fair trade.

[ghostlygeorge]

Mopey's stare was slightly unnerving. George was annoying, she could admit that, but what was he staring at. She raised an eyebrow at him. Was he thinking about trying to be an actual human being instead of an misanthrope?

"My business is my business".................no...

George scowled at that. Mopey could be a jerk if he wanted to, that didn't mean he was getting off easy. Oh no! George had the tenacity of a pit bull and she would most definitely hound for the rest of his days. Mainly because she did not like to be proven wrong. But she also liked Mopey, she couldn't even explain why.

"They don't mill people here, they mill bean... oh, nevermind."

George turned to Kat, grinning. "Perhaps if they did, Mopey would be more inviting. Then everyone would be in a crappy mood." She looked to Clocks to narrow her eyes, but quickly turned back. "Here's where I would ask you to tell me your life story, but I'm tired of being rejected by loners." Another pointed look at Clocks. "Is there anything you would like to talk about?"

[Kat]

"Perhaps if they did, Mopey would be more inviting. Then everyone would be in a crappy mood."

Kat made a face at that. "Ugh. No. People would make terrible coffee. How would you decaffinate them, anyway? Tea... that might work, though." She was perfectly serious at first, but smiled a bit when she was finished with her outburst and how bizarre it was. They must think she's insane, or a potential serial killer.

She looked between the pair. George seemed comfortable enough with him to ask him personal questions.
*Is he her boyfriend, and she dragged him out here when he didn't want to come?* Kat wondered silently.

[Clocks]

Aww, how cute. George was trying to slam him by pointing out an obvious personality factor of his. Instead of retorting, he focused on the floor, lips pursed and eye burning a hole into the table. Not literally, although he wished he could do that. Damn the guy at their school that could do that... because Clocks was sure there would be a guy who could do that.

"Mm... people-tea," he mused, lifting a dreamy gaze to the ceiling. "I'd imagine some people would be bitter, like you'd have to pick out all the gristly bits from inside the tea bag, you know? Hmmm..."

George's query, though, he decided to bend to. After a small sigh, he sipped thoughtfully once more at his drink, now imagining it was infused with essence of twenty-two-year-old instead of java. Or something.

"Well," he began with a dramatic flourish, "I was born, shit happened, some guy died, and then this weird kid came up to me in a Java Junkie to see how long she could talk to me before I walked away. That's the important stuff, I guess."

[ghostlygeorge]

"Ugh. No. People would make terrible coffee. How would you decaffinate them, anyway? Tea... that might work, though."

"Mm... people-tea...I'd imagine some people would be bitter, like you'd have to pick out all the gristly bits from inside the tea bag, you know? Hmmm..."

Well it's nice to know that the both had a sense of humour. George had started to fear that Mopey really did hate her.

"Well...I was born, shit happened, some guy died, and then this weird kid came up to me in a Java Junkie to see how long she could talk to me before I walked away. That's the important stuff, I guess."

George hadn't figure that Clocks would answer her questions, she was really asking Kat. But this made her much happier...even if he was making fun of her. She grinned. "I'm glad you think of that weird kid as important. It turns out she is!" George cackled. "And since you didn't walk away when you could, you're stuck with me."

George smiled satisfied with the Mopey. But now it was Kat's turn. "What about you, Kitty Kat?"

[Kat]

Kat looked between the two of them again... sitting with Mopey and George was more of a spectator sport than anything.

"What about you, Kitty Kat?" George asked, which surprised her a bit, Kat had thought she was asking Clocks for his story.

"Oh, you know. Pretty boring, really. Noone died. I'm still not married to Ang.. er, Brad Pitt. Wishing I had a muffin." Kat rambled.

[Clocks]

Clocks slumped forward onto the table at George's declaration, his plan having very effectively backfired. So much for reverse psychology -- whoever had thought of that needed to be slapped. Hard. By Clocks. Or their gym teacher, since he was big and could probably do a lot more dama-- Oh, he was getting off track again, wasn't he? It was the lack of sleep, really, associated with being up this early.

Wait, when could he have walked away? The thought just depressed him. He'd had a chance to get out and he hadn't taken it, either from not seeing it or from George not really giving one to him. Oh well. The medium would find a way to get her off of his back one way or another, sooner or later. Preferrably sooner. Kat, not so much. She seemed more his type, with the macabre sense of humor and the not-as-completely-fucking-insane... ness.

Oh, you know. Pretty boring, really. Noone died. I'm still not married to Ang.. er, Brad Pitt. Wishing I had a muffin. And, deciding that maybe good karma energy could be amassed with his one daily good deed, Clocks rose, scuttled off to the front of the Java Junkie, looked around for a cashier attendant person thing. When no one was spotted, he sighed, craned his arm around the little refrigerated display for their baked goods, snagged a few muffins (and a biscotti for himself. Mmmm.) and slapped an indiscriminate amount of money on the counter before returning and tossing both girls the various things he'd just kind-of bought, sitting back down and wordlessly munching on his biscotti. A little goodwill never hurt.

[ghostlygeorge]

George had watched Clocks stand up and shuffle off, with a raised eyebrow. Had he decided to leave? Not that it mattered they lived at the same address. He could try to hide, but George would most definitely find him. She smiled when he came back with muffins for both Kat and herself. She fought back making a cooing sound and pinching his cheeks. That would probably just make him more pissy.

Looking at Kat, George grinned. "Wish granted," She chuckled. "He's not all bad. Although he's probably looking for a good karma chip somewhere. But hey beggars can't be choosers, right, Mopey?"

Even if Mopey didn't like her, she liked him. "Thanks Mopey," she said genuinely grateful. "Well, I suppose it's my turn. But life was quite boring for me, so I became a hyperactive troublemaker/pranker." George was thoughtful a she bit into her chocolate muffin. "I think everyone I've met at school thinks I'm insanely giddy...but I'm not...not all the time..." She said the last bit softly.

Like she had said, she had lived a boring life. No one really felt she was freak or a danger to society. She had never been discriminated against like some of the other mutants. And she had both her eyes. So there was no reason, for her to be depressed and angry at the world. George may feel those things, but she most certainly did not express them. She didn't have a reason. George smiled widely and took another bite. "That was the life story part of our program. Now for future aspirations!" George said happily.

[Kat]

Clocks took his leave from their table... he had decided to collect food rather than just leave. So far, so good.
Kat smiled as well when he returned with goodies for everyone. "Uh, thanks!"

"Wish granted,"George laughed. "He's not all bad. Although he's probably looking for a good karma chip somewhere."

"Wouldn't that be... brownie points?" Kat offered, weakly. _That_ at least, she knew was bad, bad, bad.

"I think everyone I've met at school thinks I'm insanely giddy...but I'm not...not all the time..." That was Introspective George.

"You don't seem giddy, just very friendly and you probably have no concept of personal space..." Oops. That one got out too. "Sorry! I talk too much." Kat sighed, and waited for George to shout or storm off.

[Clocks]

"Pft. Personal space? She hardly knows what the two words mean on their own," muttered Clocks, looking forlornly at his empty drink and tossing the cup anywhere. Not like he cared where it landed, there was no way he was coming back here after this.

George's latest prompting had him irked again, though. Hell, he hardly knew what he wanted to do today, how was he going to figure out what he was going to do in the future? Not dying by age eighteen would be nice -- and it was a pretty realistic goal, right?

"Future aspirations... hmmm... how about not getting convicted for the murder of two teenage females that convieniently attended my academy? That's pretty reasonable, wouldn't you say?" He grinned, brushing his hair back over his eye out of habit. "Or, just one."