2022-06-29 - Pizzeria Sounding Board

(TXT to Jules) Ariadne : Hey girlfriend, want to share a slice of pizza? I should amend - you get your OWN slice of pizza, but you share my company? I'm at the pizza place downtown and it's too quiet. I'll buy your drink?

(TXT to Ariadne) Jules : Yessssssss pizza! Gimme 15 and I’ll be there.

(TXT to Jules) Ariadne : Sweet, see you soon! I'm over in one of the corner booths, by the window.

It really only does take Jules fifteen minutes to get from Point A to Point Pizza, and that’s including the time it takes to park. “You caught me just after class,” she declares to Ariadne as she walks in and locates the other woman, tossing her tote bag into the booth seat opposite. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt to ward off the morning chill, though that’s begun to burn off by now.

“What’s up? Been anywhere fun lately?” She asks it with a sly grin. Doors, man.

Whatever Ariadne's looking at on her phone when first observed has her fretting her bottom lip against an obvious and, dare we say, twitterpated little smile. Jules' voice rises and the barista looks up, brows lifted, before she laughs and slides her phone away.

"Welcome to my corner booth," she declares with a magnanimous spread of arms. Currently, she presides over a slice of veggie-and-meat pizza as well as a sweating glass of some dark beer. "And let's define fun?" Definite up-lilt of questioning there because...well...Doors. "But here, take this," and she fishes out the appropriate bill to hand towards Jules. "Get yourself a slice of pizza and a drink and come back to me. I'll have an answer for you then, textbook cadet." Rolling up the light-weight sleeves of what appears to be a men's sailing shirt, the barista then reaches for her slice of pie.

“Pfft, keep your money,” Jules replies, pushing the bill back Ariadne’s way. “I got it.” She’s got her slim wallet in her pocket; the tote bag full of art supplies stays right where it is.

She’s off before Ariadne can protest, claiming her own slice of sausage-and-mushroom pizza and a pint of something dark—and visibly fizzing. Not a porter, then. “So. Less fun, more impending doom. You go first, and then man, have I got a story for you.”

"Then it's being saved for another time," Ariadne informs her friend of the declined bill with a grin and a laugh. She pauses in eating her pizza to pocket the bill and is in the process of cleaning off her fingers of light grease plus minute charcoal coating (mmm-mmm, oven-stone-cooked thin slice, best slice) when Jules returns with her own bounty. The proposed vein of conversation has the barista laughing quietly again and nodding. "Deal, but first."

A swig or two of her own drink to clear her tongue before she then too clears her throat. "I'm intrigued." Circling her finger briefly at Jules, she then expounds. "I've got equal parts impending doom and fun. The doom was a mountain in...oh my god, I don't even remember when and I don't really remember where, but Germany and it was a black sabbath and at risk of wanting to upchuck my pizza, I'm going to leave it at that. If you know anyone who can do a memory scrub, let me know." Her entire face screws up in a reaction purely disturbed before she sighs harshly. "The...the fun part, right. The fun Door was the one to Malta, me and Ravn." This brings a smile onto her face and one can see Ariadne fuel the expression with the goodness of this particular memory. "We ended up being invited into this wonderful sandstone building by these two sisters, Mia and Olivia, and oh my god. I'm so glad I've got practice in keeping a straight face because..."

She devolves into sudden giggling and has to put a hand to her mouth. "So. Ahem. They hosted people, but they also hosted people...if you get my drift." Eyebrow waggle. "It was so unexpected and oh my god, Jules, they were such wonderful hosts the entire time. We just talked in the garden courtyard about the island. Thing is..." Her smile goes lop-sided. "Turns out they were skeletons and the entire thing was a beautiful dream-Dream, like...the gardens weren't real. None of the flowers or fish in the raised pond or the iced cream with lemon shavings...all of it was memory or...something like memories from the two sisters. Ravn could only see the skeletons and the abandoned property. I saw all of the beauty. It was...weird and yet, I'm really honored somehow."

Up for the eyebrows at the mention of the black sabbath devoid of details. “Uh huh.” Her eyebrows stay up for the hosting and hosting experienced in Malta.

Jules starts in on her slice as Ariadne describes it, smiling faintly. Her own fingers leave grease smudges on her glass of root beer when she lifts it to drink. “That’s kinda cool,” she decides after Ariadne renders her own judgment. “Like—people from the past welcoming you in.”

Another bite, another swallow, another swig of root beer. “Ravn and Una and I ended up being invited to stay the night at some village right at the edge of a war zone in the middle of the Crusades—did Ravn tell you? Speaking of people inviting you in. But the story I was gonna tell you is about going forward in time, not back. Not being able to talk about it properly while time here caught up has been killing me.” Her eyes widen to emphasize the dramatic turn.

"Yeah, that's a way to put it. Someone making sure their dreams get known," the barista agrees with a smile almost private. She sips at her own beer, eyes on Jules while the younger woman explains.

Her own brows shoot up. "Oh my god, no -- Ravn hasn't told me yet about the Crusades. Holy shit. I mean, I know he's fine, he didn't get hurt there. I'll have to ask him, but you." It makes a return, that circling finger, while Ariadne's paused in lifting her beer to her mouth again. "You've got me curious as all hell about going forward in time. First of all...what-the-fuck-how? Secondly, how far forward in time?" Her elbow ends up parked on the table and her jawline in her palm after she's set aside her drink. Jules has a very attentive audience, especially in light of said audience's scientific background.

“None of us got hurt,” Jules assures while her lips are still quirking at the what-the-fuck-how. “We saved this little girl. Anyway, I’ll let him tell you about it. It will probably make his historian nerd heart happy. The other one, it was Della and me, and it was the same as all the rest of these weird-ass Doors spitting you out somewhere new—except it was a week forward. In New Zealand. In Mikaere’s mom’s house. I swear to God, whoever or whatever is making these Doors happen is trying to make me die of embarrassment.” Jules doesn’t seem embarrassed now though, grinning wide through the retelling and as she waits for Ariadne’s reaction.

Forget brows lifting.

Brows try to hide away into Ariadne's hairline. Slowly, as surely as the dawn, the corners of her lips rise into those deep dimples she uses as social weaponry to charm across the counter at Espresso Yourself.

"Reeeeally...?" the barista drawls. "Do tell about ending up in Mikaere's mom's house, oh my GOD!" The last word isn't impressively loud, but certainly emphasized enough. "Side note that you're totally right about the Doors trying to make you die of embarrassment, that's their goal in life, to make us gnash teeth and feed them negative emotions. Spite. Spite's a good way to kick the dolorphages in the teeth," she notes with a particularly toothy grin to boot. A palm flipped and lifted at Jules asks for this terribly-juicy tidbit of a tale.

Jules has just lifted her root beer again when Ariadne repeats her words back to her, and she bursts into laughter. Another second, and she’d be snorting her soda and complaining about burning nostrils.

“I mean, yes and no, I don’t buy the theory that every encounter with the Other Side is about making us suffer. Like I said, we saved a little girl. And it actually ended up being a really nice visit, even if it was totally weird. Della is the one trying to make me die of embarrassment. She was all, hey let’s exchange numbers! And she’s now texting with Tui all the time—that’s Mikaere’s mom. And he called while we were there because obviously I told him when we got back a week ago and she totally knows, and now I can’t tell who’s manipulating who.”

Jules sits back, working her way through another bite of pizza. “But it was nice. It was the Māori New Year, and she showed us around and took us with her. Still. Oh, my God.” It hasn’t been said enough.

Leaning back against the booth now, Ariadne tilts her head back and forth. "True," she allows of the rescuing of the little girl in the Crusaders' Dream. This is definitely something she'll be asking Ravn about. How Mikaere's family seems to be handling the Dream is enough to make her laugh fully and almost from her stomach.

"Holy shit, that sounds like my family," she shares. "I've got a younger sister, Ana, who'd absolutely pull something like that if she had any powers like we do. She doesn't, I can tell, not even any growing or anything. But the whole texting my boyfriend's mom business...yeah, she'd somehow do something like that if she could. I'm safe by proxy of Ravn's aunts being less than accessible and that's fine with the both of us." Gesturing the line of thought away, the redhead then asks, "Māori New Year? And...come on, tell me his mother didn't have some idea of how much you mean to him because Jules? Darlin'. I got news for youse: your homeboy there makes a serious set of goo-goo eyes at you when he thinks we're all not looking." What a grin from Ariadne.

Cue a nose wrinkle from Jules, though it’s accompanied with a semi-sheepish and certainly pleased smile tugging her lips to one side. “Well she didn’t say anything directly to me—actually, yes she did, but it was in Māori—but she did to him. Also in Māori. And she put me in his freakin’ bedroom for the night. Have I mentioned that she’s completely and utterly intimidating? And powerful as fuck.” There’s some serious respect in Jules’ tone as she relates this.

“Your sister could always develop it later,” she points out as a tangential thought. “I only started a year ago. Della too, when she got here. You never know. Better watch out.”

Jules' scrunch of nose receives a cheeky waggle of brows in return. This redhead across the table had also been seated across the way on a sailboat not so long ago to see the sweetnesses exchanged between them.

"In Māori...huh." Ariadne's lashes briefly narrow in a thoughtful squint before she reaches for her pint. A sip of it and a nodded shrug. "I'm not surprised Mikaere's mother is powerful. He's got some amazing control of his...mind-speech. I keep meaning to ask him about the whole Mind Xanax bit, but I never get a chance...and man, don't be like that," she laughs quietly. "No giving the Veil ideas! If Ana suddenly developed powers, that would be...pretty nuts. She wouldn't have an idea of what to do and she's in Seattle. She's had zero interest hunting me down here in Gray Harbor and aren't we all drawn here? Anyways, what did Tui tell you then? Do you know?" Nosy baristas are so nosy, geez.

“Sorry,” says Jules, not apologetic at all. She’s worked her way to the crust of her pizza now and tears off a hunk with her teeth. It gives her a moment to think through how she wants to respond.

“So yeah, I do.” There’s a change to her tone, a shift away from the over-exaggerated thrill of dishing news to something more serious and thoughtful. “I didn’t understand at the time, and I had to wait until time here caught up, but I asked Mikaere the other day. You remember us all talking about the mindscape thing?”

The question is largely rhetorical; Jules continues after a brief pause. “It was in there.” The way she wrinkles her nose this second time is far more self-deprecating. Rueful, even. “I couldn’t not know.”

A more sober shift in conversational tone doesn't have Ariadne's smile disappearing. Sure, another bite of pizza does, but her dimples linger even as she chews and listens.

Rhetorical question aside, she still nods -- yes, on the boat, and how the mindscape was a sensitive subject to wade through. She daubs at the corners of her mouth first with her napkin before she asks, "Is it one of those things where, like, you want to un-know it? Or just...too heavy and unexpected or something? Mikaere took you into the mindscape?" Now it's not such a matter of being nosy as cajoling along to a potential conclusion about this discovery. She too is down to her crust; the delicious garlic-butter dough is a pleasure to eat in no terrible hurry.

Jules shakes her head with a quick negation. “No, I wouldn’t un-know. It’s just a lot. The whole thing was a lot. I mean, they warned us. It’s like Pandora’s Box. You want to know what’s there, but you know that once you open it, you can’t put the lid back on. I took the risk because I wanted to know, and there was a decent chance I’d remember it better that way, with how it’s a language I don’t speak. And it worked.”

Another faint smile, and then she blows out a little huff that isn’t quite a laugh. “His mom told me to take care of her son and make him happy,” Jules says quietly, pitched so it won’t carry beyond this corner booth. “And once you know that—“

She’s without words for a moment, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “So much for keeping it casual.”

"Oh, whoa." For a short period of time, that's all Ariadne can bring to the fore as well.

She takes another bite of her crust and sighs as she chews, eyes temporarily over Jules' shoulder into the middle-nothing of the pizza parlor. Another sip of beer to clear her palate. "Damn, girl," she mutters as she finds Jules' eyes. "That's...heavy and unexpected after all. I guess it's not casual anymore, but...unless you think his mom is yanking your chain, you're over the hurdle? You've already got the blessing?" There's a tiniest flicker of wistfulness through her regard, there and gone before she takes another longer sip of her porter.

“Yeah.” Jules lets the heaviness sink in, quiet as she polishes off her pizza crust. Once her fingers are wiped and mouth dabbed, she allows, “There’s that.”

But there’s also this: “But if it’s not casual, then it gets complicated.”

Ariadne takes the time to finish out the rest of her crust. It leaves her temporarily chipmunk-cheeked for a passing second before she clears her mouth with another swish of her porter.

Jules gets a supportive little smile. "Oh, sure, it's doomed to get complicated, but...that's half the fun, right? Having someone who's actually there for you no matter what? Who respects that you're your own person and yet decides to be beside you anyways to help you up when you're down on one knee? And isn't there a happy middle to everything if you try hard enough? Like..." Her eyes roll to one side as she sighs through her nose and visibly thinks. "There's way too many variables to consider here, but the middle point between casual and complicated would be like...having an official term. I mean, are you two officially together now? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Or partners?"

Jules just makes a face across the table. “Terms are complicated,” she asserts. “They’re loaded. They come with expectations.” So that would be a no.

Alas, there’s no more pizza crust to viciously rip apart. “Everything was fine. Just like it was.”

"Hrm." Ariadne isn't dismayed the display of frustration or the timbre of it in her friend's voice. If anything, she's empathetic by the quirk of her brows. No more smile on the barista's face, just a thoughtful and sober cast.

"So let me make sure I'm hearing you right: everything got complicated because you went into the mindscape and figured out what Tui said? Or everything's complicated because of the Dream alone, by itself, and the weird time gap you dealt with?"

"They kind of go together," Jules decides as she thinks through the question. "I mean, going through the Door was wild, but it was also really nice. But I think maybe Tui wouldn't have said what she said unless she suspected I might want to find out what it meant. And don't get me wrong -- I think it's great that she apparently likes me. Way better than the alternative."

She picks up her napkin and starts to shred that since there's no pizza to concentrate on. It only lasts a few seconds, though, before she looks down, considers what she's doing, and gathers the ripped napkin into a ball and deposits it on her plate. "The mindscape is the most complicating factor," she says. "Everything's so naked."

Ariadne nods thoughtfully. "Definitely better than the alternative," she agrees before upturning her pint glass. Her own porter is all gone now, but that's fine. There's a sweating glass of untouched ice water nearby and since she has to drive home, now it's time to pick at this and see about the mild buzz leaving her system before she puts palms to steering wheel.

A tilt of her head and plumped purse of lips. "Naked. Appropriate word choice." Of course she'd want to playfully note that before returning to solemnity. "You're not wrong. It's why I don't use the whole...mental speech thing often. I can tell it startles Ravn and based off that? It's invasive no matter what my intentions are. It's like...controlling your facial expressions. Your brain processes and you can be saying the most venomous shit about someone behind a polite mask. No mask, no filter..." There's a sympathetic quirk of lips for Jules. No filter is a thing, they've learned. "It sounds like you don't have to go into the mindscape again though, right? Mikaere isn't making you or has some weird wish for you to do it again?"

It draws an answering smirk out of Jules -- apparently things aren't so bad that she can't appreciate a bit of innuendo.

"Oh Jesus, no, of course not," she immediately answers Ariadne's question, shaking her head. "He's not like that. It was very much, 'whatever you want to do is fine.' And it wasn't bad. I mean, it was kinda fun. I'm apparently a Stellar's jay, and I could fly, and that was pretty awesome." She perks up, remembering. "It's just that you can't really walk back from whatever comes up. I can see why it bothered Ravn so much -- and why you might not want to do it. I don't mind the mental speech thing, though it's annoying I can't respond."

"Ohhhhhh, a Stellar's jay!"

Cue barista squee, if a smaller and quieter one.

"I love those guys," Ariadne notes between Jules' thoughts. "I feel bad that some people can't respond, yeah. It's a one-way radio and it's kind of not fair for it." Her lips twist in apology. "I'm just glad I don't bust anyone's mental ears out like I used to. I had too much enthusiasm and it translated to volume." She winces too and shrugs, upturning one palm again. "So...you can't walk back from knowing. Have you talked to Mikaere about it? I mean, after this all happened? Or are you both kind of...still reeling from it?"

Jules breaks into a grin for her friend's response. "Jay takes the place of Raven for the Quinault. I like those little guys too. And I mean, it fits, right? I can't for the life of me stop myself from sticking my nose into things." Her shrug is entirely at her own expense.

Maybe it answers a bit of the question, too. "I didn't really want to talk. It's like -- it's already a lot, and then you wanna add words on top of that? Oooooooor not. But it's not like I ran away. As tempting as that might have been." Cue another rueful smile. "But it's a lot to process, and I kinda want space for that, you know? See: why I'm sitting here talking to you about it."

"Aw." Earlier's shrugged palm is offered out to Jules for a companionable and supportive squeeze. "I'm honored that you would borrow me as sounding board. It's a lot, totally, but...I guess maybe it's also one of those things where as long as Mikaere knows you're just thinking and not running away, a few days to think isn't going to hurt anybody. Going at a conversation like that when things are raw and nothing's been...'contemplated' isn't the perfect word, but it's close," she decides. "It isn't the wisest thing. I'm certainly one to want my space to think after heavy stuff like this. No argument from me about talking with an outside perspective about it."

Verboseness turns into impishness in the twist of lips.

"But you? Stick your nose into things? No waaaaaay," drawls Ariadne with a troublemaker's grin and dimples before she outright laughs.

“You’re a good sounding board,” Jules affirms, happy to reach across and take that proffered hand. “And a good friend.” She too grins when it comes to her self-description. “It must be why we get along,” Jules teases right back.

After one last quick squeeze, she reclaims her hand. “So, that’s what’s up with me lately. I’m ready for a nice, quiet week, you know? Where the most excitement is tipping a kayak over. I brought mine back, by the way, so anytime you want to go out, let me know.”

"Me, stick my nose into everything? Pffft." Lips raspberry lightly. "People tell me everything, you mean." -- and an eyebrow waggle because literally, what were they just doing but discussing a la Scullin sounding board?

But talk about a kayaking enthusiast. Ariadne's mouth parts and her eyes light up at the offer.

"Oh my god, yes, Jules! You let me know when you're free from classes, I'll see what days I have off, and boom: kayaking. I'd love to!!! Where at, the bay? Or is there a river nearby you like? I defer to your experience," she says with a gesture towards the younger woman.

“Point,” Jules concedes with a grin. “Maybe the bay? I mean, it doesn’t matter to me, I’m out on the water nearly every day at this point with the tour groups. I still want to take kayaks along the coast, though, so if you feel like a drive and then getting on the water, I’d say we head up towards Kalaloch and see if we can spot some sea otters.”

Because really, who doesn’t want to go looking for those adorable creatures?

"Uh, twist my arm? Twist it so hard!" Ariadne then mimics this very action to a degree at her own forearm before laughing.

"Sea otters are the cutest damn things, so count me in. I'll bring my camera along and see if I can get any cute shots. Depending how close we are to the coast, there's the off-chance of seeing one of the migratory ocean pods, so...keep an eye-out for those fins if we head out there." She cleans her fingertips off on one of the napkins plucked from the holder to her left and takes a few gulps of water. "I don't think I have anything else dramatic to report, honestly. I have the suspicion we're both due for a nice, quiet week and it's coming up here."

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” Jules lights up with a smile. “Sea otters and migratory whale pods it is. Let me check my schedule and get back to you on a day when I’m off, and we’ll coordinate.” She finishes off her root beer, jiggling the ice in the glass. “Here’s to a day without drama.”

"Cheers to that...cheers to that." Ariadne offers out her own ice-filled glass for a ceremonial clink. "I think I've got the middle of the week off coming up here, so if your classes allow for one of those days, text me. I can also see about flipping shifts around if need be."

She sighs as she looks down at the empty pizza plate. "And now? Groceries. I always eat before I shop, if I can, saves me from impulse buys," she explains with a little laugh. "And then a walk for Sam. He's been very patient with all of this Door business lately and he's only complained once about it. He had a lot to say about not getting a morning walk one time and I don't blame him."

“Midweek tends to be better with work, since it’s particularly busy with tourists around the weekends,” Jules says agreeably. “And I’ve just got the one art class, and it’s in the morning, so I can always head out right after, and we’d still have plenty of time.”

She gathers her things, leaning over to grab the tote bag beside her on the booth. “Go do your things and give Sam a good ear scratch for me. I’ll see you soon!”