1964-02-10 - Ice Cream Social
Summary: Marie and Ne run into one another at an ice cream shoppe and find a way to communicate
Related: None
Theme Song: None
ne marie-ange 


Another day, another time to herself, but Ne was making the most of it. Some recently appropriated funds from the last job were currently allowing her to bask in the wonders that was icecream with strawberry syrup.
She had her disguise, her colored hair concealed as simple black but hanging free around her shoulders while she sits in her booth, content smile on her lips.

*

It's been weeks since Marie's dared to leave the little apartment she shares with her best friend, voluntarily kept inside and away from the forces of nature and socialization by the threat of the Friends of Humanity — and the readings she'd done on her cards hadn't indicated a need to go outside, either. Not until today, when they effectively demanded she go out and enjoy herself. Which is why some wandering brought her to Jackson's, a little mom and pop style ice cream shop in the heart of the city.

Right now, she's at the counter and awaiting her order; a scoop of vanilla, another of chocolate, and a third of strawberry. For a physically tiny thing, the girl at least /orders/ quite a bit.

*

Ne had seen first-hand what the FoH was capable of, but she had inflicted a little of her own horror back on them. Shrugging her shoulders, she seems to be 'humming' silently to some unheard tune, off in her own world.

Her eyes glance up at one moment, blinking a little as the woman she was vaguely aware of makes her third order. Even she, with all her sweet-tooth-ness, wasn't that mad.

*

Marie-Ange draws Page Cups.

*

Once she recieves her dish of ice cream and the spoon to go with it, she looks around the shop; there's a glance down into something carried in her pocket, and when her head turns back upwards, she nods once to herself and approaches the booth where Ne sits.

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle… there seem to be few open seats, would you object to my joining you?" she asks with a hopeful smile, voice carrying a thick French accent to go with the words.

*

The girl looks up, an expression on her face one of suprise even if she doesn't actually vocalize it. A blink, for a second Marie might swear that she'd seen a flash of heterochromia in those eyes before the eyelids reopen to both a deep hazel. That smile returns and she nods, but that's all the acceptance she offers.

A gesture with her hand informs the other woman to take a seat, but she doesn't speak a word.

*

Marie's certainly an observant girl; but unless the cards tell her to be, she's far from a nosy one. So the offer to sit is met with a wider smile, a bob of her head and "Merci, mam'selle." Before she takes her seat. The sign of a healthy appetite — and a bottomless pit of a stomach to go with it — comes quietly, as the first thing she does upon sitting is put spoon to bowl and pop and shovelful of the frozen treat into her mouth.

Once that's processed, she glances at her new companion across the table and inclines her head. "My name is Marie — may I ask yours?"

*

Ne nods her head, a shrug of her shoulder before she takes her spoon, another bite taken until the question of her name earns a pause and consideration. Maybe she should have taken that guy's advice and got herself a notepad.

Frowning, she reaches for a moment to dip her finger in her own icecream and then trace out the letters 'Ne' on the tabletop before wiping them away. A point to herself indicates she was introducing herself before she looks quizingly at the Icecream in front of Marie, counts out the numbers 1, 2 and three in turn before grinning and tapping her stomach, overacting a 'sick' face.

*

"Aha! Enchante, Mademoiselle Ne." Marie replies, smiling brightly. Writing certainly helps to convey meaning; but then again? So does indication and expression. While spoon meets mouth a couple more times to deliver deliciously tasty treats to their destination, the redhead just offers a soft giggle in response.

"Non, non. I have… how you say… a mighty stomach?" Strong was the word she was looking for, but English is only a second language for her. "As long as I do not eat it too quickly, I am alright."

*

Mutal attacking of treats continues, but the mute girl herself gives a little grin at the comment. Beside her on the bench a small closed parasol rests, regardless of the current season she'd been carrying the lace sun-protection like it were something dear to her.

Ne frowns after a moment however, head tilting to the other side as she gestures to the other woman, then to the door, before sweeping both hands over the room. It might take a moment to work out, but she was clearly asking the woman if she came here often.

*

A proper parasol is something she hasn't seen in quite some time — umbrellas, sure, but not even them since the Winter took over the precipatory functions and turned any chance of rain into flurries of snow. It gets a brief look, but then her attention returns to the girl.

This time indeed, she does have to puzzle it out. Does she… clean up the place? Does she swim through the door? None of those make sense. Brain continues to eliminate the impossible until… "Oh! Non, but perhaps I will. I was out for a walk and happened to see this place as I was passing by. The ice cream here is very tasty, oui? What of yourself?"

*

Another nod, gesture with her spoon to her own treat which is mostly emptied out. Seems she agrees quite a bit. It was new for her, something she indicates with a little shrug before she gestures to her mouth for a moment, points towards Marie and then..hesitates. How does one mime tourist? A concideration has her using a hand to mime out a plane and then a camera-click.

*

Meanwhile, Marie's definitely enjoying hers… despite the large amount that was in ther? She's tearing through it like a ravenous beast, to be sure. Omnomnom. The next question that comes up brings an arch of an eyebrow. Something about her and… a camera? Oh, and an airplane? That makes sense! "Not exactly," she admits, smiling. "I moved to your country from France… a few months ago, now. I do not intend to go back any time soon." Not unless the cards tell her to, and she doesn't expect them to do so, either.

*

Perhaps it's rather suprising how much the pair were managing so much conversation, between the silence of one and the second language of the other. Even so Ne pushes her empty bowl aside and wipes her mouth with her fingers, licking the syrup away and letting out a little exhaled 'sigh' of contentment before she continues the casual conversation. Marie's explination of her arrival is met with a raising of both eyebrows and another questioning tilt of her head. Why come here?

*

In some ways, their methodology was a boon; motions could describe quite a bit regardless of languages spoken; and while English is her second language, she's not /too/ awful at it. Spoon digs in a couple more times before she speaks again, having understood the 'why', at least. "It was time to leave France; a new start, a new direction… I have not much regretted following the path laid out for me." Obeying the cards /usually/ provides good results in the end. Even if there were some she was struggling with right now. "What of yourself, were you born in the Americas, or did you come from somewhere else?"

*

The question of Ne's own birthplace earns a moment of hesitation, the young woman chewing her bottom lip in thought before she gives a nod. Pointing to herself she raises her other hand, rubbing fingers together for the universal sign of 'money' before making a slicing movement with her other hand and shaking her head for a clear negative. Charades continuing, the girl idicates herself again, then brings her hands together fingertips touching above her head. A roof? A house? Maybe a funny hat? Either way she finishes it off by 'crossing' herself in the typical 'catholic' fashion. Quite the puzzle her background, even if she was only describing -where- she grew up.

*

This time, the message doesn't quite carry through. She understands some of the concepts at their core, but putting them together? That's where the disconnect lies. Still, Marie can't help herself but smile and put on a friendly face as she finishes off the frozen treat — all three scoops devoured, and the French girl looking no worse for wear. "It /is/ a beautiful country, though… and a most exciting city. There is always something happening here, to say the least…" …although that part? Not always a good thing.

*

It isn't always going to be easy anyway. Perhaps after this she will indeed invest in a notepad of her own, when she remembers…or has the funds to spend on anything other then food. Marie's comment earns a shrug, perhaps the native side of her is underwhelmed by the city as of late, but that last comment earns a very serious nod and frown. Much had been happening already, not all of it good.

*

"Oui… I know." Marie agrees, her smile faltering for a moment — but only a moment before it returns. "But the city still has potential, and more than most give it credit for. Coming from… a town much smaller than this, it remains a marvel to me even by the sheer size of the buildings. The will of the people to survive, and continue forward in the face of… je ne sais qoui. It impresses." At least from the outsider's perspective.

*

Ne raises her hands now, fists up almost like a boxer of some old-timey movie preparing for 'fisticuffs' before she gestures around in a sweeping motion. There was a lot of violence out in the city right now, especially for certain types of people. A questioning glance makes it clear what she's asking. Wasn't the woman worried?

*

This time, it's Marie's turn to shrug in response, features showing little beyond acceptance. "The wheel of fortune weaves as it wills, Mam'selle. Whether the day holds riches or death, it will do so regardless of my action or inaction… and so I go with the current, and simply try to enjoy the good along the way." A pause, and then a smile takes her again as she taps the little dish with her spoon. "Like ice cream."

*

That smile returns, but the young woman moves to collect her parasol, stretching her shoulders lightly and making with intention to stand up. Her hand comes, resting lightly on her own chest with a nod of thanks before she starts to scoot out of the booth, giving the other woman a light thumbs-up. She'd enjoyed the chat, and meeting another whom shared (or perhaps even dwarfed) her sweettooth

*

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