isaacnorton-grimm:
samuelhayes-grimm:
Cars were for people who had places to go, apparently. Isaac’s life rotated on a very small axel, spinning around and coming full circle like the rising and setting of the sun. He rose, drove to work, went out to treat himself sometimes - ice cream was a delicious snack, of course - and came home to spend his nights alone. The car was only useful to carry him to and from these places. Perhaps, out of the two of them, Samuel needed his car more. But then who were we to judge? Either way, one had the vehicle and the other didn’t.
Isaac in and of himself couldn’t help tiny reactions like that. He wasn’t expressing for pity, he was expressing because that was his first and most natural reaction. Surprise, of course, would always reign on his features when a surprising tale was told - whether or not he believed it after he heard it was another matter. He’d been told he didn’t have a very good poker face and he supposed that was true. After all, even if it was just with tiny stitches, his heart had been sewn to his sleeve, apparently, and no matter how hard he might pull on it, it just wouldn’t give.
But that’s alright. He never cared for poker anyway.
Blue eyes blinked rapidly at that statement. He didn’t much know what to say in response, though he did have to supress something of a shudder at the thought. “That…sounds horrible,” he said with concern in his soft voice. Maybe that was why he hadn’t gone out to Halloween parties when he was younger, outside of that one Isabella had dragged him to. But that story was, as always, not worth retelling as was most that had to do with her.
He nodded. “It is.” Face falling at the mention that the reason for Samuel appearing there was deceased - it always pained him to hear that someone had passed away, despite working in a place that, essentially, was the last inn before death - Isaac expressed his condolences, “I’m sorry to hear that. You have my sympathy.”
Nodding once more, he answered, “I am. It…isn’t that interesting. We did have a wheelchair race the other day.” He chuckled at that.
Samuel had a pretty good poker face, except for the nose twitching. When it came to reactions though he usually remained stoic unless it was something truly mind boggling. Probably why his parents ceased telling him important things. It just wasn’t all that fun. It was fun to see them flip out though when he had done something questionable or said something rather magnificent. These days he was lacking in fire in creating trouble. Soon though, he’d figure a way out to get their attention focused on him once more.
This was probably why Samuel enjoyed telling Isaac all his little anecdotes. The man reacted accordingly and even if he didn’t believe the college kid who had nothing better to do than draw in a cafe, he at least gave a good show.
Shrugging, Sam took a sip of his steaming drink and murmured, “Yeah it was, sent to the hospital and everything. I haven’t gone to a party since then.” That part was true but for totally different reasons. His friend went to the hospital because he had fallen from the roof and Samuel never went to any more parties because he wasn’t invited. Details though, and besides it could be said that spirits ruled his friend’s form in the shape of alcohol.
Fiddling with a cookie crumb, his finger tip slid across the paper plate before he lifted his finger and licked off the remnants of the treat that had fallen. There was a still a big portion of it left though. “It’s alright,” Samuel replied, not enjoying the pity on Isaac’s face, he smiled gently in reassurance. “It was his time to go, just miss him I guess.” Too much information. Clearing his throat, he sat back and grinned, dimples and all showing, “Wheelchair racing?”
Laughing, he stated, “Bet that’s fun. Did you participate?”
They appeared to be the opposites then. Isaac reacted, no matter how he might try and stop it, and Samuel didn’t react much at all. But it might work out in Isaac’s favor. After all, Orderlies were partly there to make sure people smiled and felt enjoyed, reactions were simply a part of that. This did mean, however, that most people could understand exactly the sort of reaction their stories had on him, true or otherwise. And that was not something Isaac cherished.
Then again, it probably helped, at least in a little bit, that Isaac didn’t go out to see many people. He saw a few here and there but most had left in favor of his former fiancee. Not that he really blamed them. Isaac could be a shade short of interesting at times, usually responding as an Orderly would and not being much more.
Or maybe it was that he simply wasn’t the coolest thing around. Not boring, not entirely, but Isaac wasn’t exactly flashy. He stood out more as a soft color in a world full of brights. He was an accent, as it were.
“That’s understandable. I’m sorry you had to see that,” Isaac said with a sympathetic nod. He wasn’t much for parties, himself, as stated before. Maybe once or twice or a small get together with friends would suffice but…well, he probably never would be into the whole wild party thing unless incredibly drunk. And seeing as the man wasn’t known to drink to an excess, this probably wouldn’t happen either.
Isaac slowly brought the warm cup of tea to his lips. Coffee had never sat well with him unless he needed it for energy. And even then, he only drank it sparingly. It had the alarming tendency to do exactly what it was designed to do: keep him up all night. And an energetic Isaac was basically a giant ball of unstoppable…pizaz. It wasn’t usually something he was fond of explaining after the fact. “He’s in a better place.”
A low chuckle escaped Isaac’s lips. “I tried to. I’m afraid my wheelchair was knocked over by unforseen events. But I did participate, yes.”
There was something interesting about Isaac. Whether the orderly could see it himself or not, Samuel knew better. Maybe it was just a little spark or light in his eyes that said this was a good person, or maybe it was his looks, Sam wasn’t too sure. He was keen on finding out though. If he would be allowed such a privilege. And where Isaac found some sort of shame to found in the way his face twisted, Samuel just saw delight. He needed those reactions to keep sewing up stories, true or not.
Samuel saw Isaac as having a pastel color. Soft, pretty, light, but noticeable. And if paired with the right contrasting shade, he could really make an impression. Again the cogs of his artistic mind were overworking themselves and Samuel just looked away before his staring was accounted as creepy.
“Meh, I’ve seen worse.” And he had, but elaborating for the moment would not come to him, not even in a story full of lies. Samuel had been drunk a couple of times, but usually he stayed sober. Considering the fact he wasn’t even legal to drink yet, but only had a few months until his birthday, he figured he’d just hold off until then. He only ever got drunk because it seemed to be what everyone else was doing, and the first time he had gotten smashed alone, it had been a really bad day.
Thinking about his grandfather always made Samuel a bit mopey, so he averted his thoughts to other things. Like Isaac, racing in a wheel chair. “Oh, bummer, man.” Laughing though at the image that formed, he said, “Well hey at least you tried. I probably would have crashed, too. Not even going to lie to ya.”
Sighing he said, “So ah. Um,” Taking a moment, Samuel gathered his wits, conversation, something he felt compelled to make. Now if only he could do well at it. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in this cafe’. Or maybe this is my first time noticin’ ya. Where else do ya go to…so that you can relax?”
Anonymous
So how often do you draw naked people?
Just on the weekends.
Cars were for people who had places to go, apparently. Isaac’s life rotated on a very small axel, spinning around and coming full circle like the rising and setting of the sun. He rose, drove to work, went out to treat himself sometimes - ice cream was a delicious snack, of course - and came home to spend his nights alone. The car was only useful to carry him to and from these places. Perhaps, out of the two of them, Samuel needed his car more. But then who were we to judge? Either way, one had the vehicle and the other didn’t.
Isaac in and of himself couldn’t help tiny reactions like that. He wasn’t expressing for pity, he was expressing because that was his first and most natural reaction. Surprise, of course, would always reign on his features when a surprising tale was told - whether or not he believed it after he heard it was another matter. He’d been told he didn’t have a very good poker face and he supposed that was true. After all, even if it was just with tiny stitches, his heart had been sewn to his sleeve, apparently, and no matter how hard he might pull on it, it just wouldn’t give.
But that’s alright. He never cared for poker anyway.
Blue eyes blinked rapidly at that statement. He didn’t much know what to say in response, though he did have to supress something of a shudder at the thought. “That…sounds horrible,” he said with concern in his soft voice. Maybe that was why he hadn’t gone out to Halloween parties when he was younger, outside of that one Isabella had dragged him to. But that story was, as always, not worth retelling as was most that had to do with her.
He nodded. “It is.” Face falling at the mention that the reason for Samuel appearing there was deceased - it always pained him to hear that someone had passed away, despite working in a place that, essentially, was the last inn before death - Isaac expressed his condolences, “I’m sorry to hear that. You have my sympathy.”
Nodding once more, he answered, “I am. It…isn’t that interesting. We did have a wheelchair race the other day.” He chuckled at that.
Samuel had a pretty good poker face, except for the nose twitching. When it came to reactions though he usually remained stoic unless it was something truly mind boggling. Probably why his parents ceased telling him important things. It just wasn’t all that fun. It was fun to see them flip out though when he had done something questionable or said something rather magnificent. These days he was lacking in fire in creating trouble. Soon though, he’d figure a way out to get their attention focused on him once more.
This was probably why Samuel enjoyed telling Isaac all his little anecdotes. The man reacted accordingly and even if he didn’t believe the college kid who had nothing better to do than draw in a cafe, he at least gave a good show.
Shrugging, Sam took a sip of his steaming drink and murmured, “Yeah it was, sent to the hospital and everything. I haven’t gone to a party since then.” That part was true but for totally different reasons. His friend went to the hospital because he had fallen from the roof and Samuel never went to any more parties because he wasn’t invited. Details though, and besides it could be said that spirits ruled his friend’s form in the shape of alcohol.
Fiddling with a cookie crumb, his finger tip slid across the paper plate before he lifted his finger and licked off the remnants of the treat that had fallen. There was a still a big portion of it left though. “It’s alright,” Samuel replied, not enjoying the pity on Isaac’s face, he smiled gently in reassurance. “It was his time to go, just miss him I guess.” Too much information. Clearing his throat, he sat back and grinned, dimples and all showing, “Wheelchair racing?”
Laughing, he stated, “Bet that’s fun. Did you participate?”
isaacnorton-grimm:
samuelhayes-grimm:
Oh yeah, driving. Samuel couldn’t do much of that, no scratch that, he could do plenty of driving. He just wasn’t allowed since he took his dad’s car a few months ago and crashed into a ditch while trying to impress some girl. For now he was ordered to ride his back from school, to work, and then home. It was sort of a raw deal but, he guessed he deserved it in some way. Anything was worth writing about in Samuel’s opinion, someone just had to be clever enough with his or her words to make a believable story from it.
At the question, Samuel leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his steaming beverage, afterwards, he smiled, “It’s called the Comix Shop, with an X, really original I know. Boss said the X was there a reason he wasn’t allowed to say. I think it’s because he’s dealing in black magic and I’ve always heard that certain letters hold a magical quality to them, it would explain how well the store has been doing in a town like this.” Faintly his nose twitched but he just pressed his lips together and ran off over that little fairy tale to lift his hand and shake Isaac’s outstretched palm.
“Nice to meet ya,” Samuel chimed before pulling away. “I’ve never seen ya in here before, you come out often?” Breaking off some of his cookie, he took a bite and nibbled, “Where do you work at?”
Terrible accidents did happen, even in town such as this. As for Isaac, he was obligated to drive his car to work. On more than one occasion, it even came in handy for one errand or another. But still, not too terribly exciting. Though perhaps the seniors would care to disagree as his car was once used to cart them about town, taking in the sights.
In retrospect, that might not have been too advisable as Mr. Jenkins decided that would be the perfect opportunity to shout insults at passing children from a mobile vehicles. But that is but a simple digression.
Isaac’s eyes widened at the appropriate times in Samuel’s stories. Though he didn’t particularly believed such a thing as black magic existed, it still was interesting to listen to. Turning to his paper, he wrote down the young man’s instructions. The least he could do was look it up, right? Aqua eyes turning back to the talkative youth, he smiled softly. “I guess we all need a little help?” He wasn’t entirely sure what to say after that.
Returning his hand to clasp it with his other, he shook his head in response. Not that he was shy, not really. No, definitely not the most outgoing amongst the crowd, but certainly not a wallflower. After all, he had to present a happy and open face at work each day. “I work at Sunny Hills…I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it.”
The student missed driving around town, terribly. He never used his automobile to hurt insults at pedestrians, but he did use it to get to his places of work and education in a much more timely fashion. When his friends took an interest in him it was usually his wheels that won them over having to hear his fabrications. Until of course it got taken away and Andy got around to getting a car of his own. Time out with friends was few and far between, but he was fine. Honestly, Samuel had better things to do.
The look of wonder on Isaac’s face was worth Samuel’s fib-telling. Really in the end his lies were usually harmless unless against his parents or authority. He just loved weaving fantastical tales so that he could really get a grip on the look of surprise and perhaps even belief on a person’s face. He wondered if this stranger would be someone who would get used to his stories or if this was a one time occurrence. Samuel supposed only time could tell.
Smiling, the blonde replied, “Yeah we all need some help I guess. Never much wanted anything to do with that crap though after a friend of mine had a seizure on Halloween at some party and spoke in a dead language.” Another twitched passed and then he sighed.
“Sunny Hills,” He replied, “…That’s the old rest home right? My gramps was there for a while,” He used to go before he had a job and was just in high school. His parents, will, his mother, had all but abandoned her father. Samuel was the only one to make the effort. Pathetic. “Died two years ago,” He announced.
“But yeah I’ve heard of it,” He replied, “So you’re an Orderly then? Must be a job never lacking in dull moments.”
isaacnorton-grimm:
samuelhayes-grimm:
Unfortunately, Isaac’s story was anything but adventurous. A jilted Orderly working with the elderly, taking packages, making smiles appear…it wasn’t exactly the knight in shining armor story. Most would probably be disappointed as to the quiet life Isaac had chosen to lead over the years. Granted, it fit his idea of how he wanted to be just fine, but that still didn’t mean it fit others and their own fancy. As it was, Isaac was more the man to be content with a quiet evening, jazz music playing in the background, curled up in front of a fire than the man who went out and slew dragons, rescued maidens, and won the hearts of everyone around.
On the contrary, Samuel wasn’t bothering him. He’d only caught the man off-guard as it were. The most Isaac had expected as far as conversations went would be the ordering of his tea from the barista. That having already happened, this added conversation was not something he was expecting.
Not that he minded.
“I might have to check them out,” Isaac said softly. “I…usually stick to the novels, myself. I can’t say I’ve read many graphic novels.”
Setting his book down after marking his spot by folding one of the corners of the pages, Isaac placed his hands on the table in front of him, fingers lacing gently. “Mostly detective novels. I like the puzzle, really, and how everything gets solved. The old Sherlock books were some of my favorites.” Tilting his head, he broke the current chain of thought, “I don’t believe I know your name.”
Much of the same could be said for Sam’s life. He didn’t really have adventures, he just went to school, worked, and went online once he got home or drew. He wasn’t the type quite yet to go galloping through the forest everyone said was haunter, nor did he pick people up for interesting nights out. He supposed that was why he was more of the type to sit down and think something up, a fantasy, a story, an adventure, rather than go after it himself.
It was fun though, weaving a story out of thin air, and while Samuel looked over the stranger he was already piecing him together in a suit of armor, on top of a horse perhaps, no wait, that was far too cliche’. Ah, his eyes brightened as he saw the man instead running down the street, beating down a few thugs, and saving a girl. Mm, yes, that could work. He was charming in a subtle way and his hair was rather nice, would be fun to draw, perhaps.
Focusing back in on reality, Samuel smirked, “I grew up on ‘em. Had a best friend who would let me borrow them in school before he,” His voice stopped and then he sighed. “Anyway, you should check some out, I work in the comic shop downtown, we’ve got all sorts of things coming in. Might find a few detective graphic novels or comic books to your liking. Think there’s a few Sherlocks too.”
“Oh,” Samuel smiled and his dimples came into view, “My name’s Samuel Hayes, you?”
It wasn’t something to feel too bad about, not going on adventures. After all, in today’s society, really, what was the biggest adventure people went on? There weren’t any dragons to slay or giants to bring down, no glass mountains to climb or men inside them to fool. Really, perhaps the most dangerous - and this is purely speculation - was learning how to drive. Those lumbering beasts could be considered trolls after a fashion. But then, it wasn’t exactly worth writing about, now was it?
Isaac remained oblivious to Samuel’s sketches. The notebook wasn’t exactly in his line of sight and, even if it was, Isaac wasn’t one to pry. Though, no doubt, the idea of him running to save a maiden might cause him to laugh…albeit somewhat awkwardly. He wouldn’t have imagined himself as the type to inspire stories of any kind, nice hair or not. Isaac always found himself to be more of the man who, well, worked as an Orderly and attended to the elderly - not a dashing knight at all.
“Oh?” Isaac sounded off softly. His voice didn’t rise too loudly, out of force of habit and perhaps simply from his current state of tiredness. “Well, what’s the name of your store?” Briefly pausing to rummage around in his pockets, he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil to write it down should the information come forth. Maybe not one to openly go out and go to the comic book store - or anywhere else offered for that matter - he could at least write it down…in case.
Sticking out his hand in a friendly gesture, Isaac answered, “Isaac. Isaac Norton.”
Oh yeah, driving. Samuel couldn’t do much of that, no scratch that, he could do plenty of driving. He just wasn’t allowed since he took his dad’s car a few months ago and crashed into a ditch while trying to impress some girl. For now he was ordered to ride his back from school, to work, and then home. It was sort of a raw deal but, he guessed he deserved it in some way. Anything was worth writing about in Samuel’s opinion, someone just had to be clever enough with his or her words to make a believable story from it.
At the question, Samuel leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his steaming beverage, afterwards, he smiled, “It’s called the Comix Shop, with an X, really original I know. Boss said the X was there a reason he wasn’t allowed to say. I think it’s because he’s dealing in black magic and I’ve always heard that certain letters hold a magical quality to them, it would explain how well the store has been doing in a town like this.” Faintly his nose twitched but he just pressed his lips together and ran off over that little fairy tale to lift his hand and shake Isaac’s outstretched palm.
“Nice to meet ya,” Samuel chimed before pulling away. “I’ve never seen ya in here before, you come out often?” Breaking off some of his cookie, he took a bite and nibbled, “Where do you work at?”
Unfortunately, Isaac’s story was anything but adventurous. A jilted Orderly working with the elderly, taking packages, making smiles appear…it wasn’t exactly the knight in shining armor story. Most would probably be disappointed as to the quiet life Isaac had chosen to lead over the years. Granted, it fit his idea of how he wanted to be just fine, but that still didn’t mean it fit others and their own fancy. As it was, Isaac was more the man to be content with a quiet evening, jazz music playing in the background, curled up in front of a fire than the man who went out and slew dragons, rescued maidens, and won the hearts of everyone around.
On the contrary, Samuel wasn’t bothering him. He’d only caught the man off-guard as it were. The most Isaac had expected as far as conversations went would be the ordering of his tea from the barista. That having already happened, this added conversation was not something he was expecting.
Not that he minded.
“I might have to check them out,” Isaac said softly. “I…usually stick to the novels, myself. I can’t say I’ve read many graphic novels.”
Setting his book down after marking his spot by folding one of the corners of the pages, Isaac placed his hands on the table in front of him, fingers lacing gently. “Mostly detective novels. I like the puzzle, really, and how everything gets solved. The old Sherlock books were some of my favorites.” Tilting his head, he broke the current chain of thought, “I don’t believe I know your name.”
Much of the same could be said for Sam’s life. He didn’t really have adventures, he just went to school, worked, and went online once he got home or drew. He wasn’t the type quite yet to go galloping through the forest everyone said was haunter, nor did he pick people up for interesting nights out. He supposed that was why he was more of the type to sit down and think something up, a fantasy, a story, an adventure, rather than go after it himself.
It was fun though, weaving a story out of thin air, and while Samuel looked over the stranger he was already piecing him together in a suit of armor, on top of a horse perhaps, no wait, that was far too cliche’. Ah, his eyes brightened as he saw the man instead running down the street, beating down a few thugs, and saving a girl. Mm, yes, that could work. He was charming in a subtle way and his hair was rather nice, would be fun to draw, perhaps.
Focusing back in on reality, Samuel smirked, “I grew up on ‘em. Had a best friend who would let me borrow them in school before he,” His voice stopped and then he sighed. “Anyway, you should check some out, I work in the comic shop downtown, we’ve got all sorts of things coming in. Might find a few detective graphic novels or comic books to your liking. Think there’s a few Sherlocks too.”
“Oh,” Samuel smiled and his dimples came into view, “My name’s Samuel Hayes, you?”
isaacnorton-grimm:
samuelhayes-grimm:
isaacnorton-grimm:
His shift complete, the night barely beginning, Isaac Norton made his weary way back to his house. Working at the nursing home was fun, he enjoyed it most nights and he kept smiles on faces as he kept a grin on his own. But every now and then, as he supposed was the case with all jobs, things got…
Samuel’s morning had been spent moving around Grimm’s community college, going from class to class, picking up on information he didn’t really care about. Well okay, he cared, sure, but the mouths on some of these teachers were endless and Sam often found himself wishing they would just shut up already. The thing was, most of the stuff he was learning, he already knew. Having a dad as a lawyer sort of helped when trying to learn all the jargon and legal terms. It was exhausting and he had heard of cases and side notes a hundred times over during dinner, but at least it meant that he didn’t have to actually study.
So once he was done with school, he went to work, which lasted just four to five hours since the Comic shop closed before nine and he was out of there a quarter after seven. Walking with his black jacket clinging to his upper body, his hands slipped into his pockets while the material of his shirt, colored green with the Hulk on it, clung to his upper body. His feet scuffled a bit against the ground and his jeans hung on his hips. Messy blonde hair was fixed only for a millisecond as he walked into the coffee shop and ran his fingers through his curls.
Glancing around, he found the barista he was familiar with and ordered himself a Cappuccino and a cookie, leaving a dollar tip, he glanced around. A messenger bag was on his shoulder, and as per usual, he had the plan of sitting down and drawing out a few scenes in the comic he was working on before he went home and avoided his parents.
Spotting one guy sitting next to the table he was usually at, Samuel shrugged, he could deal with someone there he supposed. Once he was seated, his leg bounced a bit after his drink and treat were set down and he worked to get out his pad and pencils.
Glancing over, he caught the title of the book and spoke up, “There’s a graphic novel of that coming out in two months.”
Isaac hadn’t the slightest clue that he was in anyone’s spot. This, after all, wasn’t the typical cafe he attended - this one being closer to his house than work where he usually left from - and also not the particular time. Had he known, he would have shuffled off from it with a small smile and an apology to find somewhere else to sit. Perhaps he might have even taken his things and gone home. It was just one of those nights, apparently.
But as it was, he sat blissfully unaware that he had claimed anyone usual seat. He was rather caught up in his novel at the time. In fact, so immersed was he in his book that he almost didn’t hear a voice speaking to him. It had just gotten to a good part, you see, the crime had been committed, the detective on the scene, and a potential criminal was currently being chased down.
Perhaps not the most pivotal point in the book, but the way it was written was just perfectly enough to draw-
Oh.
Someone was talking to him.
Right.
Looking up from his book with a blink of his blue eyes, he turned to find the voice, his place in his book held with his fingers. “What? Oh,” he smiled his Orderly smile, “I didn’t know that. I just started reading the author’s works.”
Samuel didn’t mind, much. He could draw pretty much anywhere, it was just interesting to see a new face around the cafe’. He wondered briefly about who the man was, his story, and soon decided he’d just make up one of his own if it wasn’t as adventurous as he hoped for. Something he was quite skilled at doing. His fingers moved deftly across the page, creating boxes around the drawings he had made in linear form to tell a story. It had been tricky at first trying to figure out just how to make a comic, but after so many months of selling them, reading them, studying them, he got the hang of it.
With his left hand perched beneath his chin, his right kept on sketching while his gaze went from the paper to the stranger after he spoke. Samuel was probably bothering him, oh well, the guy took his seat after all. Besides he’d been dealing with idiots all day, might be nice to have a civil conversation that didn’t always dwell around who was better, Spiderman or Iron Man?
So once those clear blue eyes met his black ones, Samuel raised his brows and nodded. “He’s good,” He replied, “The author. The graphic novel looks pretty awesome, I guess. Kind of always prefer the books to the comics though, and the comics to the books. Original form and what not,” The steady scratching of his lead could be heard over the light music pouring from the cafe’s speakers.
“Who else do you read?”
isaacnorton-grimm:
His shift complete, the night barely beginning, Isaac Norton made his weary way back to his house. Working at the nursing home was fun, he enjoyed it most nights and he kept smiles on faces as he kept a grin on his own. But every now and then, as he supposed was the case with all jobs, things got…
Samuel’s morning had been spent moving around Grimm’s community college, going from class to class, picking up on information he didn’t really care about. Well okay, he cared, sure, but the mouths on some of these teachers were endless and Sam often found himself wishing they would just shut up already. The thing was, most of the stuff he was learning, he already knew. Having a dad as a lawyer sort of helped when trying to learn all the jargon and legal terms. It was exhausting and he had heard of cases and side notes a hundred times over during dinner, but at least it meant that he didn’t have to actually study.
So once he was done with school, he went to work, which lasted just four to five hours since the Comic shop closed before nine and he was out of there a quarter after seven. Walking with his black jacket clinging to his upper body, his hands slipped into his pockets while the material of his shirt, colored green with the Hulk on it, clung to his upper body. His feet scuffled a bit against the ground and his jeans hung on his hips. Messy blonde hair was fixed only for a millisecond as he walked into the coffee shop and ran his fingers through his curls.
Glancing around, he found the barista he was familiar with and ordered himself a Cappuccino and a cookie, leaving a dollar tip, he glanced around. A messenger bag was on his shoulder, and as per usual, he had the plan of sitting down and drawing out a few scenes in the comic he was working on before he went home and avoided his parents.
Spotting one guy sitting next to the table he was usually at, Samuel shrugged, he could deal with someone there he supposed. Once he was seated, his leg bounced a bit after his drink and treat were set down and he worked to get out his pad and pencils.
Glancing over, he caught the title of the book and spoke up, “There’s a graphic novel of that coming out in two months.”
ROBOTS OR DINOSAURS?
Robots, man. Always robots.
-grins-
I once built a robot in third grade. Was really big, even walked a little. -sighs- It broke though.
Knobby elbows rested on the counter top, laid out on the surface was his sketchbook, Samuel’s pencil kept moving across the paper as he sketched out the heroine’s face. Heroine of what, one might wonder? He had no idea.
“Hey, whatchya drawing,” A foreign voice asked and slowly his dark eyes rose to see the delivery girl, Ross, come in with a box specifically for them. It must have been the new DC comics the boss ordered. Well they were not exactly new, more like mint condition and put into sleeves for other old collectors to come out and buy.
“I’m drawing a woman named Sugar James, top-Assassin of her class, and,” His brows quirked as he smiled and drew out the curvy shape of her lips. “She’s a lesbian.”
“Oh really?”
Nope.
“Yep,” Sighing, he closed the sketchbook and turned towards the box the girl had laid down on the counter. “These the comics Kevin ordered?”
“I believe they are-hey,” She pointed at Samuel, eyes shining, “Reserve a copy for me, okay? Especially if there’s a batman one in there.”
“Have you got that kind of money,” Scratching behind his ear, Samuel tilted his head, almost smiling. “Or should I just heed your words and let you have your fantasy?”
Samuel laughed when she flipped him off.
Once she left, he got out his phone, flipping through his contacts, he grinned and sent a mass message to three of his friends. “Know that girl, Ross, the one who delivers? Yeah, well, she just delivered me one hell of a kiss. Lol, txt it.”
