(2018-08-20) Tacos for Two
Tacos for Two
Summary: Dylan buys an injured Besa some soft tacos.
Date: 2018-08-20
Related: None
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: NA

Tiki Taco - Shady Cove

Entering through the front doors, the most obvious things to see are a long counter that runs the length of the tiki hut restaurant. At one end is a cashier who takes orders and money and further down is a serve yourself soda counter with lids and straws once the cashier has given the drink cups over. The end of the bar serves as the delivery counter where orders are placed once the number is called out.

The floor is a muted orange acacia wood while the counters are a polished oak color. A large fishing net covers the ceiling and is decorated with sea shells and other ship paraphernalia and on the walls are an anchor, a life preserver, a ships wheel and other items.

The tables and chairs are the same polished oak in color, booths line the wall opposite the counter. A few televisions on the walls show different sports programs ranging from baseball to football to hockey, depending on the season. This is an alcohol free establishment, catering to families and the younger crowd.

Opposite the door is a patio that is a pier over the water and is lit with decorative lights in a vast array of colors, the entrance is an arch with the wooden door kept open during business hours.

It is a summer night. The weather is warm and clear.

Besa's sitting outside the Tiki Taco on the curb with a bunch of napkins pressed to his bleeding knee. So much for not needing the knee and elbow pads. It seems to be his only real injury. The helmet is off hanging from the bars of his bike, which is next to him. He looks annoyed, but who wouldn't be with a skinned knee. There's a Tiki Taco cup on the other side of him with water, seems someone took pity on him and gave him something to drink while he waits for the bleeding to stop. Hopefully it'll stop before the last ferry goes to the new school. He sighs, letting his eyes close briefly.

Dylan wanders along the beach. His stomach nagging him until he headed towards the Taco shack. Seeing Besa from a distance, he skips so that he is standing right beside the other boy instantly. "Everything okay?" Obviously it is not, but it is still the polite thing to do to ask, right? See he can have manners… sometimes.

Besa's dark eyes snap open and he tenses when someone appears right next to him. "Oh!" He takes a deep breath, looking up at the taller teen, "Tom! I…yes, I am fine. I just…am not as good with the bike as I thought…" He forces a smile, the pain isn't so bad he can't smile, it's just stings and he's chiding himself for the fall. "I prefer riding camels." Yes, that's said with a straight face. "How are you?"

Dylan grins as if he is amused by being able to startle people by skipping right by them. He cocks his head, "So you can cure others with your blood, but you can't heal yourself?" The camel remark doesn't seem to faze him at all. "You didn't see all that bad at the park, when I saw you and some other kids there… I guess those were other students of your special school."

Those perfect locks sway as Besa shakes his head, "No. It is part of the curse." The napkin is peeled away from his knee only to be pressed against it hard again. He remembers enough of that day, "You laughed at me." It's not said with any annoyance, beyond what he's feeling towards his knee. "Yes, Rain and Schuyler and the others." His fingers are tinged red where he's pressing the napkin and it's bleeding through. With his free hand he reaches for the water. "I have spoken to the twins parents. They are looking into changing your foster home."

Dylan looks around. Luckily this isn't a super clean restaurant. He searches around the outside of the building and comes back. "Okay, let me see it again." He has a small handful of gathered spider webs. "I may not be a healer, but I am the grandson of a medicine woman." He grins, "Yeah, I did.. but it wasn't meant out of malice… it was funny. Besides you did good right before you fell." The smile fades. "Great… every time I have changed foster homes, it has been to some place worse."

Again, somewhere Rain is suddenly twitching. But Besa does as bid, pulling the napkin away from his skinned knee. "Your grandmother is a doctor?" He not so certain ti wasn't, but that's not anything to argue at this point. "It is the only transportation I will have that I can control on my own. I must get better at it." The bike riding, that is. No camels to ride now! He gets a concerned look, "No. It will not be that way. Mrs. Masters says they will get your …." He wets his lips, eyes darting to the side as he tries to remember the right word, "Guardianship ? That to the school. There have been several students who have had that." Besa thinks his has been transferred to the Masters, but he's never bothered to ask. "I promise, the school is not a bad place." Well, besides that time he was murdered, "The worst thing that has happened to me recently is someone keeps putting my tea on the top shelf out of reach." He's decided that was on purpose, but he'll just have to see at the new kitchen.

Dylan shakes his head, "She is a medicine woman.. a wise woman, a keeper of the old ways… It is more of a religious figure for the Native American peoples." No, Ashton doesn't really look to be Native American, but his grandmother certainly did. "She taught me some of the old folk medicines.. spider webs help to stop bleeding." He tenses up, not really comfortable with people he doesn't know messing with his life. "I don't know… I ran into two of your fellow students… one of them was a real bitch to me for no reason… had I deserved it, it would be another matter, but I didn't…"

Huh. Best nods gently, not knowing much about the Native American culture. "She did seem very wise. I felt as if I could ahem sat and talked with her about many things." Unsure if Dylan is going to press the cobwebs onto his knee, he waits and will either allow him or take the webs and do it himself. Eyes on his knee, "Tom…you told me to try, so I did. Do you wish me to tell her to stop?" A furrowed brow and he looks up, unsure of which girl Dylan could mean, "There are many new students this year. Do you know who it was?" A stray thought passes through the ancient teen's mind and he swallows, dark cheeks taking on a touch of pink. Hopefully not her.

Once he sees the wound again, Dylan does indeed press the spider webs firmly, yet carefully, to the injury. He whispers something in Apache, as he does so. He sighs, "No, I told you to see about it.. I'm just.. I'm just unsure about all of this. It's a little much." He pauses as he tries to think, "No, I don't remember her name… she was hanging out with this girl that looks like living silver or stainless steel at the Y. That's where I ran into them…"

Besa listens to the words, but it's not a language he's encountered before expect the brief the Dylan spoke it before. "What language is that?" The Y….He does' know what that is, but he nods gently, "The metal girl is Sydney. She is very nice, usually." His mouth makes a thin line as he thinks and looks down at his knee. "I am sorry they were unkind…." His cheeks stay pink.

Dylan squats down besides Besa, hands resting on his knees. "It's Apache… I may not look it, but I'm one-fourth Mescalerao Apache… I was speaking the words of the People, the Apache." He shrugs, "It's just the way that my grandmother raised me… before she got sick and they took me away from her." He shakes his head, "The metal girl, Sydney? She wasn't mean, it was just her friend. And it's okay, I don't have a thin skin, in fact, I'm rather used to people saying mean things to someone like me."

Besa nods, "I speak many languages, but not that. Coptic is my people's language." He seems slightly relieved that Syd wasn't the mean one, although now he's trying to figure out who it would have been. "No, it is not okay. It is never ok to be mean to someone. There is too much cruelty in this world…" He sighs, lifting a hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes before leaning back slightly to try to get something out of his pocket, "I have five dollars, if you want to got get some tacos, I would be happy to share them with you."

Dylan chuckles, "Keep your money… I'll get us some tacos. My treat. I still have some money from when I was with Marko. I didn't get as much as the others, but I did get a cut. What do you want to eat and drink?" Money is easy to come and go. He shrugs, "If you say so… I'm never going to fit in.. there will always be mean words for someone like me."

Besa will not deny the other the kindness of sharing. Sometimes that's just as important. He smiles "Thank you. I appreciate it. I like the soft tacos, please." The cup with water is tapped, "I have a drink." He chuckles softly, "Tom, I have seem much cruelty in my life, it is something to fight against. I am your friend. I will not allow anyone to say mean words to you."

Dylan shrugs, "Words are just words…" He gets up and goes into the taco shop and comes back with a large vat of soda and a hug bag of food. It is filled with at least a dozen soft tacos. " He sets it between him and Besa. "If this isn't enough, then I can go get more. I was thinking about getting another half dozen just to be sure."

Besa knows that's not true. Words have power. He may be small, but Besa's a growing teen (Again). Six may not be enough! He flexes his leg gently before straightening out his leg to rest. "This will be fine." He lies, but smiles warmly as he reaches for a taco.

Dylan sits down on the curb. He drapes his arms over his knees. The large drink hangs loosely between then as he is a little lost in his own thoughts. "So what should I expect? If your friends' parents can pull some strings and get me into this school?"

Besa chews, glancing over to Dylan. He sighs softly, having many thoughts. "This is the first school I have ever attended, so I do not know how it compares to others." A sip of water and then he offers, "There are classes. And teachers and homework." That doesn't sound too fun. "I have been able to advance my rune casting while there." One taco done, he crumples up the wrapper it came in. "I feel like I am always hungry. I wish this growth spurt would hurry up."

Dylan snags one of the tacos and wolfs it down. He chuckles. "Maybe you just have a tapeworm and you're destined just to be short?" He grins, "The more I skip, the hungrier I get." He pauses, "So, will I be allowed to go visit my ami sani, if I go to your school? I mean like whenever I feel like it?"

Besa's brow furrows, "No….I do not have worms." Gross. There's a small uncomfortable shift, he's going to be short by modern day standards. And it sucks. "Destiny is terrible. I hate it." Reaching for a second taco, "Sometimes healing or battle makes me hungry." Little Besa has been in battle? He shrugs, "That I do not know. Perhaps when the rest of the students are allowed to go into town on the weekends?"

Dylan frowns. "This place sounds like it's got a lot of rules that they'll expect me to follow. So you are only allowed in town on the weekends? What if you need something during the week?" He purses his lips as he thinks about this. He then realizes what Besa said, "Battle?"

"Or if you have a job." He doesn't know how old Dylan is though. "There is a store at the school." While Dylan thinks, Besa unwraps the taco and bites into it. He nods, swallowing before he answers, "Not at the school. But…my life is…complex. Destiny is terrible, yes?" He smiles, although there is a touch of something, maybe sadness, to it. "It is not anything that you must concern yourself with. I will be going to them. The school should be safe."

Dylan shrugs, "That's a little deep of a question for someone as shallow as me, don't you think. I mean… the only thing I'm destined for is probably just to be another stereotype of an alcoholic Indian on the res that never amounts to anything." The thing of it is, there is plenty of his usual bitterness in his voice, but none of the joking. "You'll be going to who? Dude, no offense, but you can't ride a bike without getting hurt… "

Besa doesn't know that stereotype, so….he just looks at Dylan with some concern. "You say more unkind things about yourself than you should." He stops chewing, lowering the hand with eh taco to rest against his good knee, "How am I supposed to take that without offense, Tom? I am learning to ride a bike. I know how to battle." If it was battle on a bike, he'd be in trouble.

Dylan shrugs, "Okay, then don't take it with too much offense… you just don't seem the type to do battle on or off of a bike. You seem to nice to be able to hurt someone. " That is pretty much about as good of a compliment as one might get from Dylan. "And as far as saying unkind things about myself… " He shrugs, "It's not anything that hasn't been said before by others…. I'm not smart, Besa… I'm probably not going to make anything of myself.. The only thing that I'm good at, well, makes me a freak and is gonna make other people mistrust me even more… I mean I'm good at stealing stuff… not exactly something to brag about."

Ah, Besa nods, suddenly understanding, "It is not…a battle with people." Dylan's correct, Besa couldn't battle people. On or off a bike. He tilts his head, studying the teen, "What they are saying is wrong, Tom. I know this. Your grandmother knows this. She is a medicine person, yes? You must believe her." He takes a moment to flex his knee again, "You have helped me many times already, yes? You are good. You will find your purpose, I feel it. Just as we all have purpose to better ourselves and the world, so shall you."

Dylan takes a long drink from his soda as he cocks his head and looks at Besa. "I haven't really helped you any, Besa… I mean not in any significant way." He just tried to get Besa out of the hospital before the others decided to get involved, skipped him away from the cultist, tried to help with his bleeding knee - nothing, nope nothing at all, but it's nothing that Dylan really thought of as significant. "My grandmother is biased… she has to be.. besides she's quick to call me a dumb ass when I screw up… generally right before she's hitting me with something… That woman is scary with a broom." He grins and waggles his eyebrows at that. "So if you aren't battling with people… what with?"

Besa smiles softly, "Tom. You are not the one that gets to decide what the value of your actions means to me." An eyebrow raises, "No not say such things of her. She is a medicine person after all." A soft chuckle, "And I am sure you are being a dumb ass when she tells you are are as well." The eyebrow waggle has Besa blinks, that thought from earlier rearing again in his mind. Oh boy. He looks back to the taco in hand, his smile fading, "I told you before that I was sued by those priests, yes? As a sacrifice? It…it was to a demon." He sighs, lifting the taco up to finish it, right after saying, "I fight demons."

Dylan blinks, "Demons? Like literal demons? Not just some metaphoric internal demons." He looks at the Egyptian boy. "Are you telling me that there are actual demons?" Well, that is a subject changer, if he's ever heard one.

Besa just nods, looking down at the taco in hand. He always hates telling people that, like he's destroying a bit of innocence. "Alraxmargoth'ha is dead, but his brood now is looking for retribution. I must destroy them before they can hurt more people." Oh, that's all. He finishes off the food and reaches for his water.

Dylan grabs another taco. He unwraps it, "You know…. My ami sani use to tell me stories from her grandfather's grandfather's grandfather's day before the white man came and kicked the Apache off their sacred lands… about demons that wore the faces of animals."

Besa listens intently, chewing his lower lip. He's starting to lose his appetite. And is starting to wish he had Cocoa here. His hand reaches up to rub his chest, "If ti would not be too much. Bother….could you ask her if she would tell me those stories at some point? All stories have some merit…perhaps they can help me…"

Dylan swallows down the taco. "I'm sure that she will… she liked you… told me that I need more friends like you. Of course, she also said that she liked Mister Quickie too… " He sucks down more soda. "But yeah, I will ask her when I see her tomorrow when I see her.

Besa things he called the speedster that. His head tilts, "What do you call me to her?" He'd rather not be knows as the Bleeder. "I liked her as well." He smiles softly, looking down at his knee, "I need to get to the Ferry soon. I would rather not get in trouble the first night back at the new school." He starches out his leg before slowly starting to stand.

"Um, Besa?" Dylan says, before he starts chuckles softly. "I hate to break it to you… I kind of like you… I don't really make fun of my friends, at least generally." He snorts, "Oh yeah.. we wouldn't want you to get in trouble for being late.." He rolls up the bag with the rest of the tacos and hands them to Besa. "If you need me for anything you know where to find me."

Besa smiles at Dylan warmly, "I like you as well, Tom." One day he'll call him by his real name, but not till he asks him to! There's ams head shake, "I cannot carry them and ride my bike, but thank you." The helmet is thrown on, although it's not secure enough to do much to protect him if he hit his head, "I will come find you when I hear back from Mrs. Masters, yes?" He hopes on the bike, "Have a good evening Tom. Please be careful." And then he's off, only wobbling a little as he goes.

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