Starring:
Summary:
A writer and a lawman happen upon each other in a comic shop. Darwin brings out a little geekiness in Namir and semi-recruits himself into Namir and Nima's Halo team, Karmageddon. Namir talks about setting up a book-signing for Darwin at the Secret Lair. Darwin calls Samantha a name.
Date It Happened: May 17th, 2007
Friendly Geeks
Tony's Comics, Upper West Side
Tony's Comics - a small, relatively little-known game-and-comic shop no the Upper West Side - is Darwin's favorite place to stock up on geeky things. It's got a good range of stock and carries most of the latest issues of the things he tends to read, and has a tempting selection of figurines (NOT toys!) to buy. Most importantly, it's also just around the block from his apartment building. Convenience is the fruit of sin, and he has once again found himself wheeling his way down to the shop. He's currently tucked into a corner amongst several shelves, reaching up and out of his chair to strain for the latest issues of some Star Wars comic or another. He's almost got it. Really. /Almost/. Streeeetch - and there, he's got it. He slumps back down into his wheelchair, the thing rocking a little. The newest item takes its place amongst the short stack that sits on his lap, and after a moment he reaches down to set his hands on the rims of his wheels. Twist, twist, twist, turn; it's time to go over to the figurines. The healer is absolutely certain he saw an awesome new Darth Vader.
Already standing at the figurines is Namir Dayan, who stopped by this shop and not the Secret Lair purely because he was in the neighborhood when he got the urge to purchase something for Essam. Not usually a man of compulsion, he is entertaining a rare moment of it today. In his hand are a pair of manga books, but right now his main focus is on a deluxe Optimus Prime collectible figurine. He was on his way to checkout when he spotted it. Being still a couple of months away from the release of the Transformers movie, merchandise is rare, however there is just enough to catch the attention of Namir. He stares at the figurine, obviously making a valiant internal struggle over whether or not he should buy it.
As Darwin wheels his way over, he can't help but notice the tall man who happens to be ogling the Transformers stuff. A smile curls its way onto his face and he lets his hands stop moving, simply letting his chair glide while his fingers keep contact with the rims of the wheels - it wouldn't do to go careening out of control or bumping into anything. It would make him look silly. He comes to a stop about a foot and a half away from Namir, then leans forward to conspirationally whisper: "I'd pick that up if I were you. It's underpriced." The writer then leans back and starts inspecting the merchandise around little Prime, his gaze lingering appraisingly on an action-posed Han Solo. /Awesome/.
Oh no, a stranger has caught him in a rare moment of geekery. Do a barrel roll! Outside of the XBox, Transformers is one of Namir's "internal little child" pleasures. No, he won't be at the premiere dressed in a homemade Optimus Prime costume, but he /will/ be one of the first people to see the movie, and by Allah, he will drag Sam along whether she likes it or not. He gives a small start when Darwin appears, then smiles easily and looks to the figurine again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you worked here," he chuckles lightly. Darwin is not helping the fight between his wallet and his secret fanboyness.
"I'm glad you know better, then, because I don't have the luck to work here. I just write the books." If Namir wants to talk guilty pleasures? Well, it's a really big one for Darwin to see his Star Wars novels on the shelves. They're usually tucked near the back, but /maybe/ he's rearranged the books on the sly. Just a bit. It's a perfectly innocent alteration! A victimless crime!
…Ahem. The author folds his hands neatly atop one another after setting the lower one onto the top comic of his stack, then smiles back at Namir. "Transformers is classic. I suppose you've heard about the movie?" Only every geek ever has. /Is Namir one of them?/
No, Namir is not a geek. He just likes Transformers. He has since his younger days. His gaze remains on the figurine, his expression quite determined, conflicted, before he glances at Darwin and raises both eyebrows. "You write?" His smile grows. Wow. He could be standing in front of a minor celebrity and not even know it. Go figure. "I have heard about the movie, yes. July, isn't it?" As if he didn't know this.
Namir might /claim/ he's not a geek, but Darwin can safely assume that he knows better. "July second, I'm pretty sure - and yeah, I write." One of his hands comes up and is offered with a slight quirk of the man's wrist to the stranger in front of him. "Samuel Darwin. Most people just call me Darwin, though. Apparently it sounds cooler." He pauses thoughtfully for a moment, tilting his head. "I'd suggest celebrating its upcoming release with a purchase of what looks like a truly magnificent figurine, but what do I know?" Peer pressure. It is /on/.
The writer's name is Samuel. Namir is /very deeply amused/. He shakes the offered hand, smile breaking into a highly entertained grin. "Ah, good thing you go by 'Darwin'. My girlfriend's name is Samantha and she goes by 'Sam', so I can only imagine the horrible mix-ups that could occur." His attention returns to the figure when it's mentioned, his frown returning briefly. /Should/ he? Well … he's back on the job Monday, so he'll be able to afford it. Really. So after dropping Darwin's hand, he picks up the figurine and tucks it under his arm. "Impossible to say no to that. What is it that you write exactly?"
The writer's name is Samuel. Namir is /very deeply amused/. He shakes the offered hand, smile breaking into a highly entertained grin. "Namir Dayan," he introduces himself, "and it's a good thing you go by 'Darwin'. My girlfriend's name is Samantha and she goes by 'Sam', so I can only imagine the horrible mix-ups that could occur." His attention returns to the figure when it's mentioned, his frown returning briefly. /Should/ he? Well … he's back on the job Monday, so he'll be able to afford it. Really. So after dropping Darwin's hand, he picks up the figurine and tucks it under his arm. "Impossible to say no to that. What is it that you write exactly?"
"Sambantha." It's the first thing that pops into Darwin's head. "It would help clear up any identification difficulties," he explains with a grin of his own, shrugging a little. "And as long as you don't try to kiss me, I think we'll be fine. Nice to meet you, Namir." The writer leans back in his chair when his hand is released, letting it come back to brush a few fingers against his chin. "I write what I'm told to write. I do some work for the Times - reviews, mostly - and I've done a few novels for the Star Wars Expanded Universe." Hence 'Sambantha'. The man breathes Star Wars. This is something further confirmed by the gentle tugging at a box containing that Darth Vader figure that he came over to look at in the first place. Willpower? What's that?
Namir has no idea what a bantha is, so he has no clue that Darwin is being potentially insulting toward Samantha. For all he knows, the guy has a speech impediment and can't say the name correctly. It's the bit about Star Wars that piques his interest. "Oh really? Do you happen to do book signings or anything of the sort?" Because now the gears in Namir's head are turning.
It's not meant to be insulting, really! Darwin just can't help himself. "I do, yes. Whenever I get the chance, really. I'm always told I need to meet more people." He sets the box on his lap with the comics and starts to turn his chair again, though he doesn't actually take off - he just repositions himself. "Why do you ask?"
"I play Halo with someone who owns a, ah … specialty shop like this one," Namir responds. "I think she would be very pleased to host a book-signing of some sort for you. She's a big fan of Star Wars and the like." Oh-ho, he's understating there. Big time. This is the woman who hugged a homemade R2D2 and whose dog is named Chewbacca. "The shop is the Secret Lair. It's in the East Village."
…oh HO. That's a name that the writer knows, even though he's never personally visited the place. The recognition is clear in his expression, and a smile quirks its way back onto Darwin's face. "I'd be happy to oblige her if she turns out to be interested. You play Halo?" Yeah, this guy's definitely a geek. A friendly geek! The best kind.
Oh, Darwin has shown an interest in Namir's greatest love (or almost). Darwin is now instantly on Namir's 'good' list. "I do, actually. I mostly play online with a team called Karmageddon." To which he will recruit Darwin shamelessly. "My handle is nyninja1116."
Insta-BFFs. "I can't say I've got much experience with team play, but I've been thinking of giving it a shot. I'm also thinking we might be qualified to be what most earthlings would call 'friends'." Darwin begins wheeling himself slowly forward, heading for the counter. He has to pay for his swag, after all. "Need another team member?" No need to recruit; Darwin recruits /himself/.
Well that just makes it /easy/ then. Namir follows Darwin to the counter to pay for his own so-called 'swag'. "We could certainly use another team member, yes." Using his free hand, he digs into his pocket to retrieve a notepad and pencil. The notepad is placed on the counter, when there is some extra space, and an empty page is flipped to. He scribbles down his name and number, rips out the paper, then holds it out to Darwin. "Give me a call sometime. I'll talk to Nima and we can arrange a time to get online and shoot."