2019-11-07 - On A Bus

Tis eventide, the sun settling below the horizon and night already occupying a good portion of the sky. Wearing a spandex long-sleeve shirt with a towel draped over his shoulder, it would appear that Tyrone may have been doing some kind of exercise in the park. Now, though, he's waiting on the bus. There's a water bottle tucked in between his feet, which are resting on the footplate of his wheelchair. He has on track pants and biking gloves, as well, but there aren't any sweat circles on his clothing so at least he probably doesn't stink. Checking the time on his phone, he looks at the schedule posted on the bus stop and sighs. The bus is running late.

It's from the direction of the Police & Fire building that a lone figure trudges. The coolness of the autumn night has driven this person to put on a thicker sweatshirt, a dark blue one emblazoned on the upper chest with 'GHPD.' She's got on some warm leggings, hiking boots and a knit hat under which her blonde hair is tucked. Her hands are shoved into the front pocket of the sweatshirt.

As she finishes trudging to the bus stop, she draws up next to Tyrone and says, without looking at him, "Well, well, well, you /weren't/ a figment of my imagination." If the wheelchair throws her off any, she doesn't show it in the slightest.

Blink. Blink blink blink. Tyrone looks up, squints, furrows his brow, peeeeeeers, cants his head to the side, and still doesn't recognize Haven. No elf ears. No shining armor. "... is this the beginning of a pickup line I haven't heard before?" he asks, smirking a little as he adjusts his orientation to face Haven a little more. Easier to look up that way.

Haven presses a hand to her chest and feigns some serious drama in her voice, "You mean to tell me that you forgot our /epic/ battle with a dragon? You mean to tell me you /don't remember/ barely escaping it's vile clutches?" She tsks loudly and shakes her head. "For shame."

"That was /you?/" Tyrone exclaims, surprised. He blinks several more times before he shakes his head. "Of course I remember! I just ... I mean ... that was so long ago! And I didn't recnognize you ... er ... like this? I mean, I was standing up in the Dream so I'm surprised you recognized me. How /are/ you? Did you make it out okay after me?"

"I have a good memory for butts. And also faces," Haven quips and nods at Tyrone. "I made it in one piece, though I chalked the whole thing up to indigestion at the time." She glances askance at his wheelchair and then back to his eyes. "I like your wheels," she says, a smile touching her lips. "Could use a touch of color, though."

Tyrone chuckles. "Well, my /butt/ isn't nearly what it was before. And yeah, if Easton hadn't been there, I wouldn't have believed it happened at all." He chuckles then and shakes his head. "I was pretty sure I made you up, too, since you seemed so out of place at the time. I was pretty disappointed in myself for a while, wasting a knight elf girl on a dream that coulda killed me." When Haven mentions she likes his wheels, he raises an eyebrow and looks down, then shrugs. "VA doesn't really pay for ascetic choices." He then holds his hand out. "I'm Tyrone, by the way."

"That's me all over, out of place. All the time," Haven seems to take some pride in it, though, by her tone of voice. She grabs the man's hand and gives it a firm shake. "I'm Penelope. Do you have plans for the evening, Tyrone?" Again, by her tone of voice, it sounds like he does.

"/Penelope/?" Tyrone asks, again surprised. Though, he smiles and nods, approvingly. "That's pretty awesome. I've never known a Penelope before. I like it." There's a quirked eyebrow at her question and Tyrone shrugs. "No, nothing planned. Just hanging out. You?"

"I've never known a Tyrone before, so I guess that makes us even." Haven lets go of the man's hand reluctantly and smiles again, ducking her head and sending her gaze elsewhere for the moment. "Just don't call me Penny. I won't answer to it and you may get stabbed. Just saying." Rocking on her heels a bit, she sticks her hands back inside her sweatshirt and out of the chill. "So, what do you remember from the Dream?"

"Penelope. Got it," Tyrone says, winking. "And I remember most of it. Walking, 'specially. Stupid BFG not doing a blanking thing against that dragon. I dunno, there weren't a whole lotta details," he recalls. Then, he smirks a little. "Although, I do remember a promise being made for finding a way out."

"Oh you do?" Surely that wasn't what Haven was getting at. She turns her big blue eyes back on Tyrone and asks, with an expression as serious as a preacher on Sunday, "I suppose you better keep your promises. Wouldn't want anyone to impugn your honor."

Tyrone laughs at that and grins, before straightening up to attention. "Ma'am, I was wearing the uniform of the United States Marine Corps. My honor is the Corps honor! I /always/ keep my promises!" he barks ... and then he winks again and smirks. "I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to be able to offer to fulfill it." As the bus pulls up, he backs out of the way to let Haven board first, since they've gotta put the ramp out for him. "Do you have a preference as to when or where your drink is given?"

Haven steps onboard the bus, pays her fare and turns to wait for Tyrone. "I never doubted your honor, no sir. Chance meetings in Dreams, well, they can be problematic to follow up on, though." She considers his question for a moment and says, "I wouldn't mind a drink now... but I could wait. If you wanted to take me out, that is. Properly."

Waiting for the ramp to extend, Tyrone holds up his phone displaying the ticket app. He then wheels onboard and folds up one of the seats and proceeds to strap himself in. The bus driver is apparently used to this, though, as he doesn't even attempt to help the man. "I mean, I could get it for you now, sure. But ... I mean, if you'd let me take you on a proper date, I would be more than happy to," he offers, looking up at Haven with a smile. "It is your drink and I am one hundred percent perpared to present it to you however you would like to receive it. You rescued me, after all, so I am considerably in your debt. I'm happy to repay it however you'll accept."

"I was hoping for a stay in and Netflix night tonight. Work... was trying." Taking the seat across the way from Tyrone's chair, Haven leans forward. "And it's been a while since I've been on a date. I suppose I should warn you that I may possibly be cursed and that my past relationships were all brief and... well. Messy."

Tyrone ahs and nods, and then smirks a little. "Well ... I mean, I'm down, if you're inviting. But I'm not tryin'a put any pressure on ya or anything, we don't even really know each other." When Haven leans forward, he quirks an eyebrow a little and listens, then shrugs. "Well, I'm not in a hurry or anything. We can take it slow. Honestly, I haven't even really tried dating since I got shot, so. No rush?"

"If you're willing to take a chance on me, it seems the only decent thing would be to take a chance on you, no?" Haven smirks right back at Tyrone, looking a little more light-hearted after her confession. She holds out her left hand (her nails are freshly painted baby-blue) and she says, "Give me your phone."

Fishing requested object out of the pouch hanging under his chair, Tyrone unlocks it and hands it to her. It's a Samsung S8. Not super new, but also not old. "Nice nails. Do they match your uniform?" he asks, nodding in her direction and probably indicating the sweatshirt she's wearing. "Well I appreciate that, Penelope. That's very decent of you."

"I certainly think so," Haven fires back, eyes on the cell phone in her hand as she goes to his contacts and adds her name and number. "No booty calls, Ty." The phone is held back out for the man to take. "But I think I would like to go on a date with you, soldier. You fought a dragon in a Dream... that's kinda stupid brave. And I happen to like that very much."

Well, now it's Tyrone's turn to look a little taken aback by Haven's comment. Great thing that he can't blush! The facial expression may give it away, though. "Oh, um, uh ... I mean, it attacked. I /was/ a Marine. We don't run when we're under attack, so ...," he stammers, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. He takes his phone back and checks the newly added contact, nodding and then putting the device away and taking the opportunity to try and compose himself. He succeeds and then continues, "And like I said, I haven't tried dating yet, so I'm a long ways from making booty calls. And I'll wait the obligatory three dates before asking you for nudes, too." His smirk indicates that he's PROBABLY joking with the last bit.

"Good. It seems you know the ground rules then." Leaning back in her seat, Haven rests the back of her head against the window and closes her eyes. "I'm pretty sure we pissed that Dragon off something fierce. Better hope you don't turn the wrong corner the next time you're Dreaming. I've been lucky so far myself. Smaug hasn't popped up again, but some zombies did, right around Halloween." She lifts her knit cap and shows off the Snoopy bandaid she's got on her right temple.

Tyrone frowns a bit. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk with Easton about that. The only other times I've been in there were when I was sick on my death bed like a week after we met. Worst nightmares I've ever had. But ... well. I haven't figured much out yet. But I'm much more inclined to go hunting than to just randomly bump into stuff. Easton has talked about some stuff and I'm of the mind that we may need to bring the pain. Especially if we can figure out how I can walk /every/ time I'm over there? I'm definitely ready for more action."

"Brave. But dreaming isn't always fun. If you die in a dream, you stay dead," Haven points out, lowering her cap back down over her "combat damage." "Whether you want it or not, if you stay in Gray Harbor, you're going to get more action." A beat later, she adds deadpan: "And not the sexy kind, either."