(no subject)

[synanthrope]

These days come around and all that happens is that everything gets loud. But there are so many interesting people.

You may come into the Garage as long as you don't touch. Sticky fingers make enormous messes.


[ooc: do what you will!]

Comments

[synanthrope]

It's behind building three. The City is like a clock - 12 north, and the Palace is in front of it. Then you go clockwise.

It's hard to miss.

[notions]

Garage at three-o-clock, then. Whose palace is it?

[synanthrope]

Billy Kaplan's.

[notions]

Billy doesn't sound that regal. Hasn't he got expensive things?

[synanthrope]

I don't know. I've never met him. I just know it belongs to him.

[notions]

Then you're not a... loyal subject.

[Knock, knock.]

[synanthrope]

[Laughing.]

No.

[She opens the door, dressed to kill, perfectly poised as usual]

Hello.

[notions]

[He's obviously been the subject of a final belated growth spurt, too tall to be entirely graceful balanced on his own bones but with a newborn deer sort of delicacy to him. The suit is expensive, for off the peg. His hair, whichever way he pushes his hand through it, falls into an arrangement both messy and well-cut.

Hello. You were right, it was easy to find.

[synanthrope]

[She watches him for a minute then reaches out and tugs the suit]

You ought to get this tailored properly.

[notions]

Oh.

[He looks disappointed, but recovers fast.]

I would, but it's not for best.

[synanthrope]

Why is that?

[She starts to walk towards the Jaguar, which is on display, having been recently redone]

[notions]

It's better if people can relate to you. Outside of court.

[He follows. The car is large and shiny but not interesting since it's shut in a garage and not prone on the street somewhere. He tries to pay attention, though, or at least not seem as though he's glancing around too much.]

Once you're in the wig and that... too late.

[synanthrope]

A lawyer. It depends on the kind of law, I would think.

[She pauses a moment]

Nothing?

[notions]

Barrister. [Baby.] Criminal... law?

[He's red handed with one paw absently reaching out to touch, disinterested or not.]

Pardon?

[synanthrope]

Baby.

[Said with a touch of pleasure.]

Defense?

[She nods her head to the car]

You're not interested.

[notions]

Pupil.

[His chin juts out just hinting at sulkiness. Then he nods.]

The chamber takes both but...

[A shrug and his hands push into pockets.]

I don't know. I've seen expensive cars. Car park at the Bailey.

[synanthrope]

Never give the prosecution any reason to think they can walk on you. Clothing is one reason.

[She almost smiles]

It's the insides that are impressive, but you would have to know cars.

[notions]

You dress differently for court. Anyway.

[Folding the lapels of his suit.]

Don't you think it's the same for people?

[synanthrope]

Is court the only time you meet the opposition?

[Her eyes are turning to look him over]

What's inside you is very similar to what's inside of any other man, although not most women, as you lack ovaries and a uterus and your genitals are outward facing.

[notions]

Unless they come from the same chamber.

[See, he's just going to stand and blink at that.]

...I think the car's all right.

[synanthrope]

That's very polite of you.

That car has taken up over a thousand hours of my time.

[notions]

Ten thousand hours is what they say it takes to become a genius at one thing.

[He walks away. His hands ghost over a work surface.]

That's a year or something, but with no sleep at all.

[synanthrope]

I don't sleep much.

Are you a genius at something?