bakerstreet | (no subject)

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The First Meeting Meme

Rules:
01. Post your character, fandom and preference.
02. Go to RNG, roll and tag others. Since this is a first meeting meme, tag characters your character has never met. If you’re tagging characters you already RP with, then it defeats the purpose of this meme.
03. Tag around! Don’t just throw your characters in the meme, and make no effort to play with others. Remember, this is meme is for interacting with new muses, not canonmates.
04. Have fun!

Prompts:
01. At A Bar: You’re out with your friends, or maybe by yourself, and someone catches your eye. Don’t be shy! Go say hi, or give them a cheesy pickup line.
02. Grocery Store: Maybe the both of you are eying the same frozen dinner, or maybe you’re both grabbing for the same apple. Whatever the case, chat them up!
03. Laundromat: Whoops! Did you just drop your panties/boxers on the floor? Don’t worry! There’s a friendly stranger there to help you pick them up, or maybe just look awkward and blush a lot.
04. Blind Date: Your friend thinks you need a life so they’ve set you up on a date!
05. A Long Line: Both of you are stuck next to each other in a long line. Strike up a conversation!
06. Work: Maybe your cubicles are next to each other’s, or maybe you work in the same building. Or, maybe you’re a delivery person, delivering something to the other person.
07. Public Transportation: Subway, bus, train, airplane. Whatever the case, you’re now sitting next to this person.
08. Jail: You’ve both been put in the same cell (let’s just pretend there are coed cells), and now you have nothing but time to chat.
09. School: Are you both lost and anxious on your first day of high school together? A kindhearted upperclassman showing the transfer student around? Stuck in detention together? Nowhere else to sit during lunch break?
10. Fan gathering: Is one of you a superstar and the other a fan, finally getting to meet their idol? Are you both fans meeting through your shared interest, or fighting over the chance to get an autograph?
11. Someplace fun!: Did you lose your friends at the zoo? Date ran ahead of you at the amusement park? Do you make a habit of going to the movies alone, except today there's someone irritatingly chatty besides you?
12. Battle: Are you a magical girl and a jedi, having somehow found yourself fighting back to back against a common enemy? Are you a hero rescuing an innocent passerby? Are you the villain that must be stopped at all costs?
13: Stuck: You're seeking shelter from the rain, the elevator got stuck with the two of you in it, the lock on the door broke when you both just happened to be in the room...
14. Wildcard: Whatever your heart desires!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The local writer's convention runs for three days in the early spring, and panelists representing several different genres are invited to speak. On the first day of the convention, a Friday, a group of kids from the local high school visit briefly, touring around the booths and asking loud questions. At the back of the gaggle of teens, a blonde girl carrying a hardback journal lurks. She looks sullen, and she's far quieter than the rest, flying under the radar.

One might think she's not interested in the proceedings, except the next morning she's there again, bright and early and all by herself. Still carrying her book, she sits at a table having cocoa and a doughnut, ostensibly waiting for one of the panels to start.]

[Chuck had really gotten off on the wrong foot as far as conventions went. His first one was... well, he doesn't like to think about that.

But this convention was a one for writers. No cosplay, no fangirl squeeling, no homoerotic panels, no ghosts, nothing but learning how to write better from those who made a living off of it. Prophet or not, Winchester gospels or not... Well, Chuck doesn't really consider himself a good writer. He knows he needs all the help he can get. That's why he's here.

He'd seen the blonde in the clique of teens the other day. He hadn't thought much about her at the time, but he catches sight of her again the next day, sitting alone waiting for a panel to start. He walks up to her, cup of coffee in his hand and gives her a smile.]

Is, uh, this seat taken?

[This is actually Courtney's first experience at anything resembling a convention. She's never been the 'joining in' type, and in fact the whole idea that she might want to seriously invest time in learning writing technique is new. Poetry is apparently her thing, though, whether she likes it or not.

The jury's still out.

She eyes the strange man skeptically when he first approaches, but after a moment she returns the smile, just a tad uncertain, in the way only a teenager can be.] Nah. My brother's supposed to meet me later, but probably not until after lunch. Help yourself.

Thanks.

[He might have a beard, but that doesn't mean he's creepy or anything. If he was, he certainly wouldn't be here, of all possible places. Besides, some of the legitimately, actually published authors kind of... intimidate him, just a little.

He takes the seat next to her, placing his cup of coffee down on that table and offers his hand to her.] Carver Edlund. [He's honestly not trying to name drop or anything, because he seriously doubts anyone in this convention knows who he is. But it is his pen name, so it's the name he's going to use while he's here.]

[Yeah, she's getting 'socially awkward' vibes, but no 'creepy' vibes. She can deal with that. She's pretty socially awkward, herself, anyway.

She pushes her journal out of the way to give him room for his coffee and reaches back to shake his hand. Hers are tiny, but her grip is surprisingly strong. Dark blue eyes study him shrewdly, but her smile is a bit more relaxed now.] Courtney Crumrin. Hi! I'm mostly here for the poetry panel, but there's nothing better going on in this town anyway, so I figured I'd stick out the day.

[When she lets go to go back to her cocoa, she looks thoughtful.] I know that name, though. [Clearly not well enough to place him instantly, but she's trying to figure it out now.]

It's nice to meet you, Courtney. [He can appreciate a firm handshake, especially from a young teenage girl. He gives her a smile back, taking a sip of his coffee after they shake hands.]

Poetry, huh? [He chuckles.] I'm no good a poetry. [He can barely string together a sentence at times, let alone finding the right words that rhyme and fit to meter and still projecting the meaning you want to give across. He has a definite appreciation for people who can.]

I, uh... wrote the Supernatural books? [It's definitely more of a question than an answer.]

Well, that's the thing. I'm not all that good at it, either. But apparently I have potential, whatever that means. [She shrugs. It's probably not kosher to tell a total stranger that her super-secret magic power is literally activated by her own angsty poems. She'll keep it vague.

...Oh. Oh! Now she recognizes his name. Her eyes widen briefly, and then she breaks into a small, sheepish grin.] That explains it. My brother's gonna be jealous. He has the whole set, I think. You won't get made if I say I only read one, right?

[Her magical abilities might not be something anyone else would believe, and it probably isn't a good idea to go around telling people that. But with all the things that Chuck has seen in his visions, and all the things he's lived through himself--he might be one of the few people that actually believes her.]

Do you like it? [Because, in the end, that's the only thing that really matters. If she doesn't like what she's doing, the why would she be doing it at all?] I mean, if you're not good at it, you can always get better, you know?

[Chuck relaxes just a little bit when it turns out that she isn't the fan. He doesn't know what he would have done if he turned out to be another Becky.] Oh, no, no. [His lips quirk upwards.] Definitely not.

Like...poetry? [She has to take a minute to consider this.] I would never have tried it if my teacher hadn't blackmailed me into it, actually. I kind of hate it. But I love it, too. Does that make sense?

[She picks at a threadbare spot on the corner of her journal, frowning.] It's like, people don't usually listen to me, and poems are a way to make them hear. But when they hear, they get to judge, and it makes me feel...exposed.

[She shakes her head. She's only fourteen; she's not supposed to have this crap figured out yet.] But anyway. Yeah, I read 'Heart' and I ended up feeling really sad for Madison, so I kinda didn't pick up any of the others.

[He nods. Because yeah, it actually does make sense. He hasn't been a writer very long himself, and he was kind of forced into the occupation. After all, it wasn't like he could hold down a normal job or anything--visions of the Winchesters occurred at all hours of the day, and it wasn't something he could just excuse himself from.

But writing was a very personal thing. Poems especially.] Yeah. I get it. [He really does.

He gives a small grimace upon hearing which one she's read.] Oh. Yeah. They're, uh... They're not all that sad.

[She rewards that sympathy with a small smile. It looks like she's not given to handing those out easily; he should feel honored.] So, I guess, if I'm going to be writing poems anyway, I want them to at least be good.

[Less chance of being laughed at that way.

She tilts her head at him thoughtfully.] Well...one thing I did like though. She was a person. I read a lot of fantasy and horror books; they're kind of my favorite genre? Only so many of them just have monsters that start as bad and end as bad, and there's never any in-between. Real life isn't like that. Even monsters have histories and families, and the best ones do bad things because they think they're doing the right thing.

[He appreciates every smile he gets from everyone. Making people happy or smile wasn't something anyone should take for granted, and he certainly doesn't. He gives her a smile back.]

Just, uh. Don't give it up, I guess. I mean, practice makes perfect, right? [It's cliched advice, but true nonetheless. If she enjoys it and wants to get better, the best thing she can do is not give up.

But then his smile turns slightly forced. He's glad that she enjoyed certain aspects of his books, he really is! But... he feels guilty making excuses and taking the credit for making her up. She had been a completely real person, after all. He hadn't known it at the time, but that didn't make it any less true. But then again... he can't go around admitting he was writing about real people either.]

Yeah, I... try to make my characters as life like as possible. I mean, something has to be realistic in Supernatural, you know?

Realistic is even more important in fantasy and horror than in other kinds of books. [She agrees, nodding mildly, and then gives him a long, thoughtful look. Long enough to be slightly weird, and to draw attention the the way her eyes look a tiny bit too old for the rest of her face.

Then she smiles faintly and pulls her journal closer, opening it and flipping through pages.] My uncle told me a story about werewolves once. When he was still alive. Wanna see?

[The page she's opened to has a rough, childlike sketch of a wolf amid the scribbles, and a pair of sad dark eyes drawn in the margin.]

[Chuck doesn't keep eye contact for very long. He knows it's more professional--personal even--to look people in the eyes while having a conversation, and it puts him in a slightly creepy light, but he simply can't bring himself to it. Instead, he gives a nod in agreement before focusing on his coffee as he reaches for it and takes another sip.]

Oh, uh, sure, yeah. [He gives her a sympathetic smile as he leans in a bit closer to her. Not enough to be in her personal space, but just enough to see the notebook. His eyes are automatically drawn to the sketch and scribbles, and he points them out.] Did you draw those?

[There's a hint of grief in her eyes, but she's mostly recovered now. Uncle Aloysius was the most important person in her life, unquestionably. But things have changed, and she's starting to grow up. It's not as bad as she was afraid it'd be.

She pushes the book closer. The writing at the top of the page says 'The Fire-Thief's Tale'.] Yeah, I drew 'em. I'm not much of an artist either, though. That's Jan. [She points at the eyes, pronouncing the name 'Yahn'.]

Dunno where he is now, either.

[Unfortunately, Death is an important part of life. They were all going to have to deal with the death of a loved one sooner or later. But knowing that doesn't make it easier. If anything, it makes it worse. But even so, he's glad to see that, while she's still obviously upset about his death, that it hasn't completely ruined her life.

He looks closer at the drawings when she pushes the journal close.] No, no, they're... good. [He means it too. He's seen all kinds of beautiful artwork in his life, but there's nothing like the potential of an artist who's just starting out.] It's, uh. Better than what I could do, at least.

Oh, is Jan a friend of yours?

[She gives him a skeptical look. Shoot, at that rate he'll probably think her poetry's amazing. No one's harder on their work than an artist, of course. Still, she has yet to hear anyone but that one teacher tell her the actual writing is any good.]

Mm. Thanks? They're just doodles. [She looks at the page.] Sort of. I met him when my uncle took me to Hungary to meet a friend of his. Jan was romani. His whole clan was camped near where we were staying. My uncle's friend had a daughter about the same age as Jan, and they had a thing. I really wanted it to work out for them. She kinda broke his heart.

[Maybe he's a little biased. But he thinks, if she spent time on it, working on it and perfecting it, that doesn't make it bad. It just makes it different. Writing was all a matter of perceptive, anyways.]

Oh. [That certainly wasn't the story it was expecting. It kind of reminds him of Becky, in a way. Not in the way that he broke her heart, because when they had broken up, Becky had just seen it as a chance to woo over Sam again, but... still.] I broke up with my girlfriend not too long ago either.

[What she's left out was that a major feature of this sad little tale was that Jan was a werewolf. She looks up at him, torn between sympathy and uncertainty. He seems okay. Like, maybe he wouldn't think she was crazy. Just...childish and creative or something, at the worst.]

I'm sorry. About your girlfriend. If that's the right thing to say? [She's never had one; she wouldn't know.]

Maggie--the girl that broke up with him--was actually engaged to someone else. But that guy was a total jerk. In the end, she didn't really stick with either of them. I was...upset at the time. But now...I don't know. Maybe she did what was right for her.

[He wouldn't judge her. Not at all. He's never met any werewolves, Thank God, but he certainly knows for a fact that they exist. If anything, he'd be surprised that she knew they existed.

He gives her a sad grin and shakes his head.] Yeah, no, it's... I didn't want to, but there were... [The Apocalypse.] ...reasons why I had to.

[He gives a shrug.] Maybe she did. And, uh, who knows? Maybe her and Jan are together now? I mean, they're both missing, right? Maybe they're missing... you know, together?

Well, maybe you'll see her again some day, and things will end better. [Courtney's not really a romantic, but she does want to believe in happy endings, at least for some people.]

Actually, I hadn't thought of that, but I guess she could have tracked him down, if she decided she wanted to. [That seems to cheer her up a little, but clearly it's time for a change of topic.]

So, the things you write about. Did you ever see any? Werewolves or vampires, I mean? Or ghosts.

Yeah. [He wouldn't deny that he would love to accidentally run into Becky again and they could try things over. Only, he's afraid Becky might actually slap him of he tries anything again. The thought, oddly enough, makes him smile.] Maybe I will.

[He's definitely glad he could cheer her up, even if it was with a prospect of maybe. But then she changes the subject, and he can feel any since of cheer fading away from him. He knows that, in every day life, there are people that believe in ghosts and vampires and werewolves and the supernatural who haven't actually seen them. He wonders if Courtney actually has.]

Oh, no. I haven't seen anything myself. But, I know friends who have. [If he could call Sam and Dean friends and not just those people I have visions about.] Why? Have you?

[Aw, that's kind of cute. Courtney notes that smile, and wonders why he broke up with this girl in the first place if he likes her so much. Man, adults are weird.

His willingness to admit there are weird things out there perks her up further, though. She's seen a lot more of the supernatural world than is normal, even for a witch.] Yeah. I have, actually. Jan was a werewolf. Only he never lost control of himself like in stories. Maybe there are different kinds.

Also, vampires and goblins. But I'd be fine with never meeting a vampire again. [She frowns and makes an awkward little movement of her head, like the thought literally makes her neck itch or hurt.]

No, I--I'm sure there are werewolves that don't lose control. They just... don't make for very good stories, you know?

[Not that he's trying to say werewolves aren't real. Just that Sam and Dean never run into the ones who are good. Well, except for...]

I do know that there are vampires that don't drink human blood. I mean, they drink cattle blood, but, uh. It actually works.

[Apparently.]

I never heard of that. The ones I met...um. Actually they were distantly related to me, which makes it even more creeptastic. They didn't drink a lot of human blood, but they sure weren't vegetarians. [She smiles at him weakly, but damn does it feel good to be able to talk about this with someone other then Will. A grown-up, even.]

You know, there are a lot of crazy things out there, but sometimes I still think everyday humans are the weirdest.

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10?

Works for me!

yay!

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