That's Lovely

Cast: date: 'October 7th, 2012'
place: 'Hook''s Fish & Chips'
participants: 'Hilary, Huruma, Teresa'
synopsis: 'Three people, Grumpy - Hilary, Gloomy - Teresa, and Creepy - Huruma, are having lunch. Yum. '
log: "You do not come here, for the atmosphere. Unless perhaps you enjoy this sort of atmosphere. You come here for greasy food that clogs arteries and a decent fish and chip. For Teresa Murdoch, she comes here because of proximity to home and she is one of those that actually enjoys the fish and chips. It's like comfort food for her. And she needs comfort. It's a sunday, no work at the shop, no classes, just slumming in the restaurant side of the shop, drowning her batter fried fish in lemon sauce and malt vinegar for her chips. Tomorrow, is not going to be a good day, and she's dreading it. \n\nDreading it and watching others in the shop while nursing her food.\n\nHilary enters with the smell of smoke still trailing him, having just finished a cigarette outside. Since he's appropriately attired for the weather, that hunch in his shoulders is probably not from cold, but from some sort of massive tension headache. He comes and heads to the counter to order. \"Give me…oh, God… Something,\" he says quietly. \"Steak and kidney pie. You just surprise me with the beverage.\" Order placed, he slides into the dining side of the room and finds a place to settle, not far from Teresa.\n\n It didn't take long for one more immigrant to fall into the trap that is fish and chips- Huruma was admittedly, reticent, but after being goaded into trying some she seems to zero in on one of these types of restaurants seemingly a couple times a week. She has been in this one before enough that when she sidles in through the door and approaches the counter, the person at the register asks her if it's the usual by the time she gets there to pay. Of course it's the usual. Eating is habitual. \n\n With a tailored leather jacket and large golden hoops in both ears, Huruma, incidentally, does not seem the type to come in here too often. Still, she is here. For purely food, or otherwise, there's no telling. The two consecutive glances towards Hilary come off as lingering, even though Huruma soon moves past any occupied tables towards an empty one, the back of the chair facing the wall.\n\nThe upside to being touched by the gloom for Teresa - besides the need to never need to cart around matches - is her ability to discern gloom touched from normal. The person adjacent to Hilary, normal. Hilary? Not so normal and the blonde takes up to glancing at him now and then once she got that feeling off him. Trying to guess what it is that he can do. Whether he's watch. If he's watch, random co-incidence or one of those keeping an eye on her. Same for Huruma, those less looks as sometimes, looking can get you into trouble.\n\nHilary sits with one arm crossed over his chest, holding the other arm while he chews on his little finger, but it isn't long before he starts to notice glances coming his way. From two sources. He sits in silence for a while, but his patience does not last long. \"/What/. Is it?\" he lets loose as last, looking hard at them both. He really pronounces those 't's.\n\n Huruma has no answers for him- or other looks, either for Teresa or Hilary a third time. Instead, she finds her seat, crosses one leg over the other, and pulls out a smartphone, which she promptly begins to type on with her thumbs. Maybe she does not speak more English than is necessary for ordering food. Or, of course, she is entirely ignoring his protests of being looked at. Both are likely suspects. Considering the pursing of her lips, the latter moreso.\n\n\"I'm trying to figure out where I've seen you before. I'm sorry\" Teresa offers up instead of Hey, you're gloom touched like me, wanna sit and compare what it left us with? Since Huruma has chosen to remain silent, there's little attention paid to her. \"Teresa\" The american blonde offers up. \"I think.. have we met before?\"\n\n\"I don't think so,\" Hilary says crisply, looking Teresa over after visually dismissing Huruma. \"I would say you've probably seen me onstage, but you're an American,\" he says, as though that were a very disappointing fact. \"Americans don't go to the theatre.\"\n\n That's a terrible lie. Broadway exists, doesn't it? Huruma flicks her gaze upward for a moment to take stock, pale eyes showing from under her eyelids out of the corner of their vision. They sink back down, and she resumes typing whatever it is on there. It certainly is too long to be a text message, that's for sure.\n\n\"I'm from America, yes. But I'm not American. So what would I have seen you in over here. I've been here for a while. It would likely surprise you\" Teresa points out.\n\n\"You sound American,\" Hilary accuses, watching Teresa with a flicker of eyelids. Something about her makes him frown still more, though he takes his hand away from his mouth. \"So. If you've been here for so long, you must have seen my picture somewhere. Devoted to the stage, are you?\" he asks, but there's a note of dry sarcasm in his tone.\n\n \"I take it… you are not a Broadway man.\" When the other woman speaks, her words begin at a deep place in her throat, rising into a curious sound as it goes. Huruma has stopped typing, for the time being, for some reason interceding on the matter of whether Americans are theatre people at heart. The tall, dark woman watches them both from her seat against the wall, one brow tilted upwards.\n\n\"I sound American. But I'm not. Nor am I devoted to the stage, but I enjoying going when time and money permits\" She's getting annoyed by his tone of voice, so perhaps that's why she looks to Huruma and her broadway comment. \"Broadway is overrated. That and over priced. You find better talent off broadway and in other communities. It's a tourist trap\"\n\n\"Broadway?\" Hilary echoes, turning his head as he looks at the large woman who has at last deigned to address him. \"It's spectacular. But it is ninety percent Not Theatre. But don't feel sad, at least fifty percent of what goes on in London theatres is in reality Not Theatre.\" He flicks his eyes back over at Teresa and smiles, but says nothing.\n\n \"Oh, I see.\" Huruma all but verbally backpedals from Broadway, low tones hovering around sarcastic, yet it simmers down once she sits back, gaze trailing off to check the kitchen door before roaming back to Hilary. \"Is it safe to assume, that you then, are an actor of quality?\" Having never seen his face, and all.\n\nTeresa will let Hilary answer HUruma's question, still waiting for her memory to be jogged as she sticks a fork in her fish and saws off a bite to consume.\n\n\"No, it isn't,\" Hilary says, a bit of an edge in that answer. \"I don't act anymore. But I /am/ one of the finest directors in the country.\" His food arrives and he looks relieved to see it. \"God bless you,\" he gushes to the waitress.\n\n A bit of an edge that appears to please Huruma, judging by the smooth curving of lip. \"I could do with a show…\" The dark woman purrs, shifting in her chair and setting the phone face-up on the table. \"Any… ah, recommendations?\"\n\nThere's HP sauce on Teresa's table, and quietly, after the waitress brings Hilary's food, there's an outstretched arm and she's offering the bottle to Hilary if he wants it. \"St. Thomas\" She hazards a guess, having racked her brain while quiet.\n\n\"I haven't seen anything new that was good so far this season,\" Hilary says, glancing at Huruma's phone before looking back to her face. \"But never fear, I'm putting on Richard three soon, which should be excellent, because with Shakespeare, no one sues you for cutting the lines that don't /work/.\" He stabs his fork into his dinner. \"Thank you,\" he says, taking the bottle from Teresa, only realizing she's hit on his name after he's poured a few drops on his food. He looks up. \"Yes, you've remembered. From a poster?\"\n\n The hostess that had brought Hilary's platter returns soon with Huruma's- which is, decidedly, primarily fish. She murmurs her own thank you, before starting to pick at it with her fork, venting some of the heat. \n\n \"Richard three? Hm. What theatre, might I ask?\"\n\n\"Playbills, newspaper. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for your production, if you're seriously doing it\" She offers up, a glance back to Huruma and she's picking at the last of her food. A business card is plucked from a pocket, slid onto Hilary's table and the American blonde, it seems, is easing away and attempting to make her escape.\n\n\"Yes, I am /seriously/ doing it,\" Hilary snaps, although he pockets the card without hesitation. Then he looks to Huruma. \"Space called The Visible,\" he says. \"I am supposed to say something like, 'If you would like to join our mailing list…'\"\n\n Huruma looks after Teresa with a mildly curious eye, pulled back by the man's answer to her question. For a second or two, there was also that telltale glint of hating to see her go, but fond of watching her leave. It passes. \n\n \"I have nothing to… put on a mailing list, as it so happens.\" Huruma lets out a small laugh, before she starts into her meal of fried fish and sparing chips.\n\nHilary watches Huruma watch Teresa go. \"Oh no?\" he asks, looking pointedly at his phone. \"That just connect to a tin can and a bit of string, then?\" He stuffs a bite of the pie in his mouth.\n\n Between bites when he asks this, Huruma swallows her food and levels her eyes at him, lids half lowered. \n\n \"Yes. So to speak. A very intimate tin can. One that I prefer to — keep away from other tin cans.\" The pause takes a beat from the sentence, allowing the woman to settle her expression on something more smug than need be.\n\n\"Well, you're the most conspicuous covert operative /I've/ ever seen,\" Hilary retorts. \"What were you looking at me for, eariler? You didn't recognize me.\"\n\n \"Conspicuous is underrated, I find. I dislike …useless airs.\" Well, that may be why she is being so up-front about it, surely. Huruma cares less for the fact that he now, pretty much knows she was looking after him, than the fact he was able enough to notice some oddity in the first place. It simply means he is a good read. \n\n \"I actually do enjoy th'food here. But you are only… a lovely addition to th'afternoon.\" Lovely is subjective.\n\"Yes, 'lovely.' That's what everyone calls me,\" Hilary says dryly, tucking into his food with renewed seriousness.\n\n \"I'ave met worse.\" Huruma may even consider herself less than lovely, judging by the darker aura she gives off towards the end. Still, she remains to eat her meal, undeterred by any self-deprecating from nearby."

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