2008-01-08: Pot and Kettle


DaphneM_icon.gif Tyson_icon.gif

Summary: Tyson goes to look for a friend, Daphne goes for the view. There is a meeting of like-hairstyles.

Date It Happened: January 8th, 2008

Pot and Kettle

Empire State Building, 86th Deck

Up in the Observation Deck of the Empire State Building, Tyson is busy looking for a friend; only… he isn't looking around the deck so much as he is looking out across the city as far as he could see for the friend that had gotten away from him. "I swear if she gets caught…" He began, quickly ceasing, not wanting to continue that thought for much longer; still looking really, REALLY hard for something that could help him.

Excuse her, excuse her—speedster coming through. Daphne could be anywhere she wanted right now, but sometimes she even chooses the homegrown sites. Well, home-country, at least. Plus, hey, it's not like she has to wait in line or anything. Still, it's some kind of post-lunch rush at the building despite the unpromising weather, and Daphne is jostled on the way to the railing. Bumping into some guy next to her, the girl glances over her shoulder at the crowd accusingly, "Sheesh. Like nobody's ever seen a city before."

Tyson's search is distracted by some sort of burstling that makes him look around for anything that might have changed since he last looked. He questionably stares at the girl with apparent beef towards a group of people, not being able to recall her being around before. "Hm…" He murmurs to himself taking a step back from looking for Ophelia to, if nothing else, not drive himself crazy looking for her.

If you ask Daphne, it's everyone else that's got a beef against sharing a deck. But she wiggles her way into a space and claims it as her own— at least for the couple of minutes she plans to look out. Really, it's just kind of nice to be up somewhere and look and breeea… and be stared at by some dude standing by you. "Yeah, hi," she smarts off expectantly. Expectant that he'll find something else to do, at least.

"Hi, yourself." Tyson shoots back, smiling back at the woman. "I-uh… I noticed you didn't bother waiting in line. Good on ya!" He nods, giving his sign of approval in the form of a thumbs up. "Its like, if they're not going to do anything about it, why shouldn't you just jump ahead of them. You know?" Realizing he was starting to ramble, he catches himself and steps back over to the railing, looking out for a moment before turning back towards the girl with a curiously amused look in his eyes. "I'm Tyson, and you are..?"

Daphne pauses, looking a little taken aback when her greeting is assumed to be friendly. But she doesn't ditch or anything, she just juts out her lower lip and her right hip and regards the guy as he talks. "Hey, when you're faster, you're faster," she shrugs a bit smugly to his comment about skipping ahead. When he steps to the railing, so does she, once again expecting closure. Then he gives his name, and Daphne huffs to herself and sideways glances over at Tyson. "Wondering what the deal is," she supplies to his lingering question.

"There is no deal, per se…" Tyson admits, while nodding at the thought that there had been something more to his approaching her. "Well,-" there was no point in being coy anymore, especially when she is the one to bring up the topic of speed, "Fast? Brash works a little too, but hey, that's coming from a guy who apparently has a staring problem." He shrugs, not looking away from the nameless lass.

Daphne pursues her lips at the description but does nothing to deny it. She holds the gaze he's keeping for a couple of seconds then looks away, as if playing bored. "Yeah, well, welcome to New York," she says, though not cruelly, "Everybody's got a problem. I guess yours could be worse." Hey, a joke. She even smirks a little when giving him an allowing nod.

"Let's hope so," Tyson affirms, catching the smirk. "but really, just because its a problem for somebody, does that mean it can't ever be useful? Nope, because sometimes, you can't just wait, right?" After that mouthful, he takes a deep breath and lets it go. "New York does seem to bring that out in people, though. Yay? But yeah, I introduced myself, isn't it only fair I at least know who I'm talking to?" Persisted, ain't he?

Like when Daphne steals from the fabulous hot-dog vendor a couple blocks away and creates something useful for her stomach with his problem? Definitely. Her body language warms up as she shifts in place and lets a hand drift onto the railing, but she still responds, "Life ain't exactly fair, mophead." Then a pointed eyebrow raise and, half-curious, "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Of course life isn't fair, spikeybroomhair-…girl…" Tyson begins, glaring at her after the mophead comment. "If it was, I'd be eating cotton candy… but what you just asked- And might I say, is wierd hearing that from somebody else- is exactly the problem. Nobody ever /does/ anything; or when they do it usually just ends up more of problem itself down the line." He shrugs, "If I were to do something, though… I'd probably get a bunch of people that could help together and… help people? But that's not a vague answer…"

Daphne turns all the way away from the city sights as the guy's answer seems to go on and onoh, and? Spikeybroomhair? It's like the pot and kettle up here"You'd get a bunch of people," she echoes, "Nope, not vague at all. And what's to stop /your/ little people-thing from ending up more a problem later, huh? Got something up your sleeve for that?"

Another question that leaves Tyson reeling, "I don't know…" His blunt answer surprises him, "I mean… I don't even know if I could do something to be useful to any group, let alone manage one." Tyson shakes his head, his locks swaying. "You'd think submissive negotiaions would work; but, sometimes…" His mind seems to drift, and he begins looking out the window again, with a very careful look in his eyes.

"Maybe you should work on that," Daphne replies, though she is quiet when he trails off, studying the look on him. "Trust me," she pipes up flatly, watching the tall buildings as shadows from clouds darken their windows, "Sometimes it's better not to be useful. I'd invest a little better in going alone." She isn't sad, or angry, or insulting. She's, in fact, so matter-of-fact that she isn't anything else at all.

Tyson looks at Daphne enough curiousity to kill a cat when she bluntly advises him. "Good advice. Do you have any prior experience to back it up? Because I'm going to be straight with you… you're scaring me a little… Hehe?" He chuckles nervously with an undertone of actually trying to make it sound like a joke.

Her eyes are back on him when he kinda-chuckles. She hesitates a second and then rolls her eyes, "Oh, nevermind. Just be careful," she adds, leaning in towards him, "If you spook so easily!" But she's smirking again and she soon enough pushes away from the deck railing and turns toward the inner elevators, "View's getting old anyway."

Tyson scoffs at the girl's assumption, but even as she starts to get away, the boy's yet-to-be-questioned theory burned in his mind and he couldn't let himself lose this lead so easily. "Hold up," He says, picking up his pace catch the elevator down, "You haven't told me your name, yet. I mean, friends come so infrequently, I'd like to at least be able to call your name if I see you walking down the street or something."

Well, since he caught the elevator, now they're stuck in it. Daphne glances at the falling numbers (yeah, count down from 86, people) and then across her shoulder at Tyson. Then forward. Then at him. Then forward. She sighs. Then looks back at him—"It's Daphne." Beat. "And we're not friends."

"Aw, c'mon?" Tyson begins, more humored than put off by her rejection of friendship status. "I like you, you like me? What's the problem? It's not like you're going to murder me in this elevator… Besides, I do believe it is a pleasure to meet you, Daphne." He beams challengingly.

"Hey, buddy," Daphne returns, now shaking a finger in his direction, "Who said anything about liking. You were staring. Be happy for a name." She only sulking-frowns for all his beaming. Then, "How old are you anyway? Isn't there a teacher missing you somewhere?"

Tyson gets the impression, Daphne was getting the wrong impression of him, which was a little funny. "17, and school's out…" Not that he went to it most of the time. "Besides, I simply meant that if I don't pay attention to your hostility, you'll actually seem kind of nice. Not that I'm banking on it." He looks up at the descending numbers, just waiting to get off, or make a new friends… whatever happens first.

The hostility is there for a reason, and so probably is the impression-giving. Either way, Daphne raises her eyebrows at the guy's age — even if she didn't exactly get a by-the-books education, herself. She hopes he knows how lucky he is to be running around by himself at seventeen. And then promptly shuffles that thought away. "If you don't pay attention to hostility then you're not doing it right." She informs him as the elevator ding announces what will probably be their last moment together.

"Trust me, I know hostility… doesn't mean I have to go cowering at it all the time. Time will tell whose problem that becomes…" Tyson notes the elevator ding and watches the doors open, "But you're not the only person who seems to think so, I guess you all have a point…" He shrugs, stepping out of the elevator, glad to be on the ground floor again.

"My guess?" The speedster says for problems, "Yours." She also watches the doors open and is a step ahead of him when they walk out. "Well, mop, gotta go," her eyebrows jump humorously, "I think you've made me want cotton candy…" She tilts her head in thought, shrugs, and adds, "Stay in school!" for a chuckle before pushing her way into the crowdiest crowd section she can. She's tiny, she can vanish. And then she can /speed-vanish/.

Tyson tries to follow the girl with his eyes, but after she dips into a crowd of people, she's gone and even after Tyson uses his great vision to find her… he still comes up with nothing. "Well, damn… I think I was right…" With that, Tyson goes off to his own tasks, finding his not-girlfriend.

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