Metro Java...

[amityville_sweetheart]

The streets of Metropolis are busy at this time of day. The fact that it's lunch time in the business district doesn't help with the crowds, but the skies threaten rain. Corrine takes solace in this fact, and idly muses to herself about how funny it'd be to downpour on all of their dressy business suits.

She looks to the sky with this thought, pausing on the sidewalk to stare at the bright, but cloudy, sky. Her face is lifted up, waiting to feel a droplet of rain, but it never comes. 'Huh,' she thinks, 'Did you honestly think that would work?'

She continues along the sidewalk, making a left at the corner. Metro Java is just across the street, and she can see through the big glass windows that it's crowded.

Corrine pauses in front of the windows, staring inside at the patrons. There's a Starbucks just down the block, as well as a Dunkin Donuts. She considers this, then realizes that it'd probably be _more_ crowded in these places, where the white-collar busy bees gather for their afternoon lattes.

'Besides,' she thinks, 'No one bothers me at Metro Java, and I can't get the guy at the Starbucks to stop hitting on me. Drop your coffee on another patron _just once_, and you're famous.'

Resigned to her fate, she pulls open the doors and steps inside the busy cafe.

Comments

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Caleb watches Corrine as she enters, being careful not to stare.

“That’s her,” he thinks to himself. A customer interrupts him briefly, ordering their traditional coffee to go. After the brief transaction, Caleb again focuses on Corrine. Being careful not to stare, he tries to relax and sense ambient magical energy.

Sure enough, there was a lot of it – that he could feel the moment she walked through the door. It took only moments to confirm his suspicion that the source was indeed this rather unremarkable looking blonde.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine approaches the counter, staring up at the choices on the overhead chalk board, just like every day. She was a creature of habit, that was for sure, and decided on her usual.

"Can I get a french vanilla latte, and a braided pretzel? Um, also..." She stares at the board again, debating trying the new cinnamon-raisin muffins, but decides against it. "No... uh..." She looks back to the man with the dark hair who is waiting on her-- the manager, she realizes, for she's seen him before-- realizing for the first time that he's staring. She attributes it to her indecision, and makes up her mind.

"Nevermind. Just that. The latte and the pretzel, I mean."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

“The usual again, eh?” Caleb tried to look completely normal, but understood that he was horrible at attempting to keep a straight face, and didn’t want this girl to mistake his interest as flirting.

Caleb turned around, relieved that his face no longer had the potential to betray his thoughts. He made the latte, but intentionally pulled the pretzel from the bin for the old ones that needed to be thrown away. 'It should be stale,' he silently guessed.

Indeed, it was.

Turning back around, he handed the girl her order. “That’ll be $7.50, miss.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine fished around in her bag, pulling handfuls of change and wadded up bills from the bottom of the bag. She carefully straightened out a five and three ones, and handed them to the gentleman.

"Keep the change," she said, his piercing stare finally sending her into a nervous fit.

She grabbed her latte and pretzel, hurrying off to the most unoccupied corner of the store where she slid into a booth. She tried to make a point of not looking back at the man who was still staring at her, and looked out the windows at the passers-by.

Trying to distract herself, she took a sip of her latte, and then a bite of her pretzel. Her face couldn't mask the disappointment-- the pretzel was stale. She sighed, resigned to this fact, and continued trying to eat it anyway, amidst looks of dissatisfaction.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Caleb tried to retain a neutral face as he observed the blonde eating the stale pretzel.

‘She’s just going to accept that?’ he noted with some surprise. ‘I guess I’ll have to be less subtle.’

Caleb strode around the counter, and then across the floor to where the blonde was eating her day old food. He was nervous. Things could quite easily become very awkward, but that was a calculated risk.

“Pardon me, miss,”he said as he got to the booth, “but is this seat taken?”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine mentally sighs, knowing that the man behind her is the manager. She doesn't want to be rude, though, but what could she really say? ''No, sorry, this seat is taken by my imaginary friend''? Yeah, right, Corri. Leave the guy without a _doubt_ that you're a total whackjob.'

"Uh... no." She took her bag from the seat across from her, pointedly sitting it on the open part of the bench directly beside her. 'At the very least, he won't be able to sit _next_ to me if he's a total nut.'

She stares up at him, suddenly realizing this is a convenient opportunity to mention the pretzel. Her attempt to avoid him had obviously not worked, so she might as well get a good pretzel out of the deal.

"The, uh... the pretzel you gave? It's stale," she says, breaking the last half of the pretzel apart to show how it crumbles. "That whole batch is probably... I mean..." She bites her lip. "I've been coming here a lot recently. Not saying you have bad food, but this one's just..."

She sets the pretzel down, and averts her eyes to the table, taking a quick sip of her latte.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

“Oh. I’m terribly sorry about that, miss. Of course you shouldn’t have to eat a stale pretzel.”

Caleb sits down next to the blonde, and smiles warmly at the nervous young girl across the table from him. “I suppose you aught to do something about that.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine stares at him, almost disbelievingly. 'What is _with_ this guy?' she thinks to herself.

"Well, I've told _you_, so you can get me a new one. You _do_ work here, don't you?"

She bit her lip. She hadn't meant to be so snappish, but years of solitude had made her patience shorter than her childhood days. Nevertheless, she continued giving him the most incredulous look she could muster.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Caleb snickered, briefly rubbed the temple on the right side of his head.

“Well, yes, I, uh .. I am employed here. Replacing your pretzel isn’t, uh, quite what I had in mind, though.” Caleb cleared his throat, then leaned in. “You’re not like other girls, are you?.”

He tried to look sheepish, despite his abysmal ability to be spontaneously disingenuous. ‘If this doesn’t work,’ he worried, ‘I’ll have to be more direct.’

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine raised a brow. "What? I, uh... I'm not sure what you're getting at."

She sighed, picking up her latte and beginning to stand up. "Look, it was really nice meeting you..." She paused, realizing she didn't know his name. "Well, whoever you are. It's been... _strange_... but I really don't have time for witty lines from 'clever' men."

She raised her hand to stop him from responding, even though it was obvious he had no intention of interrupting her. "And, oh, yes, I've heard them all before. 'You're not like other girls, Corrine', they say. 'You have the most wonderful smile', 'You know you have the most piercing eyes'. Heard it all. Thanks, but maybe in another life, mmm'kay?"

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Caleb again sighs, growing frustrated at just how poorly things had progressed thus far.

Realizing that the blonde was in the process of leaving, Caleb was compelled to take action. He focuses his thoughts on the incredible raw magical power of the girl before him, and siphons off just a little bit of it. In the same instant, he focuses on the stale bread.

‘Bread goes stale due to a lack of moisture, so to correct the problem, I shouldn’t need much energy.’ Caleb always gets worried when he leaches power. Ever since the accident, he’s always been scared of inadvertently causing someone harm. Even when performing minor feats that wouldn’t drain enough of a mouse to kill it, let alone a human, he always got nervous. Unfortunately, despite his vast knowledge of the arcane arts, Caleb himself possessed no magical energy, and had to absorb it from his environment any time he was to do anything.

“Please, miss. Before you go, just take another bite of your pretzel.” As he awaits her response, he gazes over her face for any reaction to what he had just done.

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

A sudden feeling of exhaustion passes over Corrine, and she yawns despite herself. In an instant, the feeling is gone, though she feels more tired than she had only moments ago.

'Should've ordered another latte... probably would've, if I wasn't dealing with this whacko.' She stares the man down, then decides it isn't worth the effort. She begins to walk away, but something tells her to humor the man's strange request.

'C'mon, Corri. Why would you eat a pretzel you already know is stale? What if he _did_ something to it? They warn you about those hot dog vendors in NYC for a reason.'

She sighs. She decides to ignore her better judgement. Walking back to the table, she snatches up the pretzel. She heads for the door again, taking a bite of the pretzel... and stops.

Then, slowly, she turns back to look at the man. "What did you just do?" she asks, voice full of surprise. The pretzel in her hand tastes as if it was just made.

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

‘Well, at least I have her attention.’

Caleb smiles warmly. “Have a seat, and it’ll be my pleasure to explain.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine looks around the cafe. No one seems to notice her strange interchange with this man.

Hesitantly, she sits back down in her seat, never taking her stare off of the man. "Well, I think a nice start would be to tell me what your _name_ is."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

“Certainly. My name is Caleb, and I’m the manager here. As for your prior question ..I possess certain ..mystical abilities. And that, I suspect, we have in common.”

Caleb pauses for a moment, not entirely sure how he should proceed.

“Have you ever heard of a woman named Zatanna?”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"What would make you think--?" she snaps, suddenly on the defensive. She's already starting to get up, and there's a strange look in her eyes... fear, but also angry.

It's the same look rabid animals get when cornered. "I don't know who you are, what you want, or who sent you, but the game needs to go and the serious explaining needs to happen right now."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

“That’s fair enough,” he answers with a disarming smile before offering his hand.

“My name is Dr. Caleb Zukov, and I have the, uh … shall we say ability to sense magic when it is within a certain proximity to me. Which, uh, you are.”

There’s something else, here. It’s been a while since he’s really hit on many women, but Caleb can still recognize when one is not only as uncomfortable as Corrine is, but even a little scared. The discomfort was expected – no way around it, really – but the fear? Caleb doesn’t really want anyone to be afraid of him.

“There’s no cause for alarm. I mean you no harm, Ms…”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

A doctor. Huh. Doctor of what?

The polite request for her name also gets ignored. What does he need to know her name for anyway? He could be selling something, or recruiting, or working for the government, or just plain Crazy.

The fact that she sits back down doesn't really mean much for him in the grand scheme of things. If anything, it probably looks as if she's being a little more receptive, but she's really trying to find out what he knows, and how he knows it.

"What do you want with me, specifically?"

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Coming to the conclusion that she doesn’t intend to take his hand, Caleb allows it to gently fall to the table, and shrugs minutely.

She may be both an attractive woman and a powerful mage, but I can’t say I care for her attitude. It’s a touch snobbish, the pot thinks about the kettle.

Still, he’s broken through more than his share of rough exteriors, and as such is not so easily discouraged. “Now really, Ms, there’s no call to be so defensive. At any time you can tell me to go away, and I'll do just that.”

He leans forward, quickly licking his lips before settling into a grin that isn’t quite innocent, but not exactly predatory either. It’s definitely purposeful, though exactly what purpose isn’t in the face up cards. “To answer your question, though: What do I want from you? Right now?” He rubs his chin and fights his smirk for a second in mock contemplation.

“Just the pleasure of your company over breakfast.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

She doesn't say anything for a bit. She just watches him, almost sizing him up. The 'seriously unimpressed' face returns. Why does she always meet these whackos? Is it her? Does her undeniable internal insanity make her more susceptible or something?

"All that stuff about magic just for a date?" she finally asks, incredulous. "All right. The bread trick looks like a slight of the hand."

She crosses one leg over the other and sits back in her chair. "If you're really a mage, do something cool."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

Her reaction tells him that he’s not going to get anywhere physically with this one. So rather than look coy, Caleb instead puts his most convincing ‘I’m insulted’ looks on.

“Pardon me, miss, but I never said anything about a date – just breakfast.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"Er... sorry. I just... I thought..." She actually smiles for the first time since their introduction. It's a small smile, on the very right edge of her mouth, and it seems to be an embarassed one. Still, a smile is a smile.

God, she's such a frickin' spazz. "Corrine," she says. "And you owe me 'something cool'."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He opens his mouth as if to speak, but after a moments hesitation dismisses whatever thought he had with a laugh.

“Well, then, did, uh … did you have anything specific in mind?”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

"You're the mage." She folds her arms. "Impress me."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He leans back, lost momentarily in deep thought. This one was going to make him work for it, it seems. Not like she set an impossibly high benchmark…

With a coy smile on his lips, Caleb removes the lid from her coffee, and holds both of his hands as a cup over it. He pauses there for a second as he carefully siphons off energy, before removing his hands. And in their wake, her coffee rises in the shape of a blooming flower. And after several seconds of holding it’s shape, the liquid collapses back into it’s prior shape.

“Shall that suffice?”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

Corrine's back thunks against the booth backing. Both hands go over her mouth as she watches the spectacle in front of her. She briefly looks around to see if anyone else is witnessing it. The place has emptied a bit since she arrived; no one else is looking.

The flower splishes back into the cup and she stares after it. Hrm. So he really was a mage. "Okay," she says, voice measured. "Impressed. Listening."

[caleb-z.livejournal.com]

He fights in vain to keep a straight face. “Thank you.”

“A shy, pretty young woman with your kind of mystical power isn’t exactly something one encounters everyday. I must admit, you, uh … you’ve got me curious.”

“Tell me to leave and I will without rancor, but I thought we might talk.”

[damage-girl.livejournal.com]

She relaxes a little and, after inspecting her coffee a few moments, puts the lid back on and sips. Magic is not something she ever likes to hear, especially someone telling her they know about her. She's been kicked out of schools, lost apartments and jobs, and been injured more times than she can count because of magic.

"Would you--" She takes a look at the doors and the streets outside. The 426 bus is leaving to the other end of town... the time! "Oh my God, I have to go! Um--"

She fumbles out of her seat, juggling purse in one arm and coffee in the other. She looks like she's about to bolt to the door without another word when she stops, turning to look at him. She's got to find out who he is. If he's been sent here to hurt her... "I have-- I was supposed to be back to work three minutes ago. I'm missing my train. Will you be here tomorrow? At 9AM?"

She's still inching backwards towards the door.