(2020-11-09) Meeting Reese
Meeting Reese
Summary: Log Summary
Date: IC Date (2020-11-09)
Related: None
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: None
Players:
kentucky..quentin..reese..

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Lighthouse Landing Coral Springs
Mon Nov 09 10:15:18, 2020 — Mon Nov 09 07:15:18 2020


The lighthouse landing was once the residential floor of the ancient structure. Today, its been refurbished with hardwood paneling, a polished hardwood floor, and brass porthole fittings around each small window. A snack bar has been set up in the center polished marble counter tops, a stainless steel bar fridge and sink, real glassware, and a wide variety of sodas, teas, and other non-alcoholic beverages on tap. There is coffee. Most especially coffee. There is also a doorway leading to a balcony that rings the entire lighthouse, the metal grates underfoot and the railings made of ornate cast iron, baked with a modern finish that should never rust. The rail itself is polished brass and gleams in any light. As for the view? Its fantastic. The lighthouse landing commands the most romantic view of the entire island, from the lush greenery of the treetops in the woods to the rolling majesty of the sea, from rugged cliff to bright sandy beach.

It is a fall morning. The weather is cold and snowy.


Contents:
Kentucky - 5'10", slightly curly long black hair, black eyes, half-Native
Quentin - 5'8", curly bright red hair, amber-hazel eyes, fair complexion.
Reese - A short teen, probably half-Asian. Always wearing a slouchy beanie pulled low to cover all the hair.
Exits: [LE] Lighthouse Entryway [LT] Lighthouse Top
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It's early enough morning that it's normal for Quentin to be up and about this early. He always is. It is at least an hour before classes, maybe more, and he's here in the lighthouse, on the landing. Considering there's a snack bar here, and always something to drink, and an incredible view? That might be why. He probably went for a fly this morning and wound up here after. Whatever the reason, he's standing out on the balcony railing, leaned against it, heedless of the cold, weather. Heedless of the snow falling from the sky. He's on the side of the lighthouse facing back toward Shady Cove. As though with his crappy vision he had any chance of really seeing anything from this distance away. And yet, here he is. Sunglasses on, despite the relatively dim light. The white makes it brighter in an overall sense. Which plays merry havoc on his vision. And even more, he has a hard time seeing when everything is white anyway. Getting back to the academic building in time for classes is going to well and truly suck.

Quentin isn't the only one to be up and about in the early morning. Kentucky often is as well, though for him it's for… different reasons. Having time to spare before classes actually start, he's been wandering a bit. Shoulders hunched, gaze downcast, chin lowered. His dark hair is loose, falling across his shoulders and lower, given the length of it. His breath fogs the air, and he has his hands stuffed in the pockets of his uniform. He doesn't look overly comfortable in it, but… he's wearing it. He doesn't seem to either mind or like the snow that's falling, flakes of which land to speckle his dark hair. What caused him to head for the lighthouse is uncertain, but it's where he is. And he finds himself at the snack bar area of it, chewing on his lower lip and considering what manner of hot drink might be the best choice this morning. He didn't sleep well last night. Caffeine would likely be for the best.

For some reason the hot chocolate at the lighthouse snack bar is better than that served in the cafeteria. Plus it is easier to get an espresso shot in it here. It's incentive enough to make the walk from the main campus to the lighthouse, and the cold isn't anything new to Reese. That's what coats are for and they have theirs on, but it isn't zipped so the uniform trimmed in the Ares blue is obvious underneath it. Having ordered their drink and received it they are cradling the cup in gloved hands as they stare at the menu as if debating whether to get something to eat here, which would probably annoy the student staff, or just go back to the cafeteria to get breakfast. Especially since there is nothing on the menu that most think of as breakfast foods.

Quentin lifts a hand to rub his forehead for a moment. Then he drops the hand as he resolutely turns from the view. He tucks his hands into his pockets and heads for the closest door to come back inside off the balcony. He pulls his right hand from his pocket only long enough to open said door, and make sure it's closed behind him, then pockets it again. He pauses there, to let the relief of the, slightly, lower light level wash over him. And notices a familiar face. "Ky," he says. He turns to walk toward the drinks area himself and browses until he finds an orange juice. Or, at least, something that's labeled as orange juice. "What does orange juice really look like, Ky? Will you describe the color to me?" Quentin makes no move toward the food menu. Either he already ate, or he's simply not hungry. Reese gets a polite nod and Quentin steps aside to free up counter space, his orange juice in hand.

The half-Native youth did, at least, make a decision about what drink he wanted and ordered a half coffee and half hot chocolate. Without fluffy stuff on top. Which is exactly what he called it, too. Which may or may not have amused the counterperson now making said drink. With the nickname used by a familiar voice, Kentucky turns his head to look towards Quentin, and there's an immediate smile to come and play about at the corners of his lips. "Hey, Quen," he offers in quiet greeting, giving a small nod. His dark gaze turns to the orange juice that Quentin picked, and he's quiet for a lingering moment. "It's… more yellow, than orange, I think. The orange juice. Like the sun on a bright day. Like… like the colour of fire between the hot part where it's blue and the tips of the flames where it's red," he says softly, his tone thoughtful. Leave it to the pyrokinetic lad to akin something to fire. There's a brief glance towards the other youth that Quentin had given a nod, and he ducks his chin as he gives a nod of greeting as well, seldom one to be impolite. His attention returns back to Quentin, though. "Colour is not easy to describe, I think," he says a bit sheepishly, looking to Quentin through his lashes.

The snack bar isn't so large that overhearing conversations is difficult. Noticing people coming and going and non-verbal greeting are hard to miss. The nod is returned after Reese studies the two briefly. There is a sip of their drink and is about to turn to head out when the curious question is asked. Another look at Quentin and the obvious assumption is made and they realize the sunglasses aren't just a fashion choice. "Orange is a cheerful color." they add after listening to Kentucky's description. "It is loud. It screams look at me, but in the same way a playful child would.

Technically speaking, that stuff on top really is fluffy stuff. Quentin, it may have been noticed, when he gets anything like that is ordered sans whipped cream. No fluffy stuff for the redhead. His hair's fluffy enough, he honestly doesn't need any help there! He tilts his head as he listens to the description, and then blows out a frustrated breath. He shakes his head. "While the description is interesting, I just… have no concept of what the colors are supposed to be, so the descriptions don't really make any sense to me. I have nothing to compare it with." Not knowing is frustrating! His head snaps to Reese as they speak. "Cheerful and loud," he murmurs. He lifts his orange juice and has a taste of it. "Kind of like it tastes." His lips curl up in a smile, and though it's small, it's also full of wonder. His accent is not from anywhere around here. Definitely not American of any sort. Welsh. Very Welsh. Though it is perfectly spoken, as it is in Wales. Which is to say, some things might not be understandable at all if he were to talk quickly enough!

It's not something that Kentucky would thing to ascribe to colour. An emotion. Though he knows and understands that emotions exist, he hasn't experienced the range of them in order to have that better understanding. There's a slight wrinkle to his brow at the offer by the stranger, though he doesn't offer an opinion about the descriptor. His dark gaze holds to the other person for a moment before his chin ducks and his gaze lowers. The counterperson sets his drink on the counter and calls his attention to it. Kentucky gives a small nod before reaching out to pick up the paper cup, not seeming to mind the heat given off by it. His dark gaze turns back to Quentin at the frustration that his description seemed to cause, and there's a flush of colour that comes to his cheeks as he looks down anew. "I'm sorry… mine was not a very good description," he says quietly. He's failed, and failure is unacceptable. There are always consequences. There's a faint turn of his head, enough to cause a fall of his dark hair to tumble over his shoulder and curtain his features, and he stands quietly still. Waiting, almost. Expecting… something? … maybe.

"Your description wasn't wrong." Reese might sound a bit guilty for making the teen feel bad about his words "Orange is a warm color. Isn't it the warmest color on the color wheel?" They aren't any kind of artist so it's just a guess on their part. "Color is subjective anyway. Everyone perceives it slightly differently than everyone else." there is an amused grin "In several Asian languages we use the same word for both blue and green. I think your English word from it actually used to mean shimmering or lustrous, and wasn't a color at all." not that the knowledge helps, but they are just hoping it makes Kentucky feel better.

Quentin is thoroughly distracted by the other description of 'orange'. But not to the point he misses Kentucky's body language. He reaches out with a single finger and pokes the taller boy in the shoulder. "Hey," he says. "It's not your fault I don't have any experience of what colour is. To me, it's all shades of grey, so describing something using more colours just.. doesn't really help, but that still isn't your fault, Ky and I don't blame you for it at all." Whatever had been being expected? Nothing bad happens. Not on Quentin's part, at least, except perhaps that his finger withdraws and he tucks both hands around his orange juice. His eyes go back to Reese and he listens to them, expression still fascinated. "That's really neat," he says. "I'm Quentin. Pleasure to meet you." Curiously, he doesn't offer his hand, but instead keeps both hands tucked about his orange juice container. He nods toward Kentucky. "This is Kentucky. We both start classes today. Any advice you can offer a couple of new kids?"

The description hadn't been wrong, per se. But he'd seen the reaction Quentin had to the addition of the emotions to the description. How much better that had been. "I… don't know," he says quietly, about the colour wheel. He doesn't. He's never seen a colour wheel before to have an understanding of what it is. The drawings that he'd ever been given leeway to create were all… grey and shades of charcoal. No colour. "Colours are not easy to describe," he says quietly, still looking down. The poking finger of Quentin finds a tensed muscle to poke at. And Kentucky shifts his dark gaze in Quentin's direction, peeking to him through a parting of his hair. And there's a little smile that just finds the corners of his lips as he gives a small nod to Quentin, tension bleeding away from him with the words that were said. "Thank you, Quen. I will try to remember that, next time, and not use colours. Using emotions feels… strange," he says softly. Because of his limited experience with them. There's a glance towards Reese, the words considered for a lingering moment. Thinking. "There are colours that are blue and green combined. Perhaps it is similar to why there are so many different words for snow to Inuit people. Blue and green seem… quiet. Gentle. Water and grass and growing things. Maybe… maybe they are linked because one needs the other to exist," he says quietly, chewing a little bit at his lower lip. And there's a smile to tug his features at Quentin's introduction of him, and he gives a small nod.

Reese's dark eyes shift between Quentin and Kentucky, they are observant enough to pick the social cues and smart enough to know what they could indicate. The introduction has them once more giving a laugh "A little early to come to that conclusion, isn't it?" in reference to it being a pleasure to meet them "You can call me Reese, by the way." slightly different than saying my name is Reese. For their part, Reese isn't holding out a hand either, they just give an upward nod of their head.

Kentucky gets their undivided attention as he speaks of the two colors and brows raise in thoughtful surprise "I have never thought of it like that." there is a nod of head "You are probably right. It's kind of poetic too, now that I think about it."

Quentin nods his agreement with the half native boy. "Colours aren't easy to imagine either," he says with a small smile. Quentin has a colour wheel, one with quite a lot of colours on it, but that likely hasn't been brought out in Kentucky's presence just yet! He ducks his head in a nod. "Welcome, Ky. And thank you for trying. Emotions or sounds will both work well, I think. Even smells. Tastes?" He just looks thoughtful now. He tilts his head thoughtfully, considering. "But does water need grass to survive? And can't both water and grass be differing shades of blue and green? I read that, somewhere." Quentin smiles at Reese and shakes his head. "Nah. I always assume the conclusion will be a pleasure until the opposite occurs," he says. He lifts his orange juice and drinks the last off it, then disposes of the empty container in a recycling bin for that purpose. "Kind of is poetic, yeah. That sort of thing helps me understand what colors are." He tucks his hands into his pockets now. "Right. I'm going to go get set up and ready for class. Still got a couple things I want to go over. Later." Nods are offered to both Reese and Kentucky, then Quentin turns and heads for the exit, not quite curls bouncing as he leaves in a much more chipper mood than he had been upon arrival.

"You are not known, but… it is nice to meet you, Reese," Kentucky says, giving a small nod. There's nothing wrong with being different in the way of introductions. Kentucky isn't very good at them, himself. He lifts his drink to take a sip of it, his brow furrowing briefly as though considering the flavour of it, and then his tongue flicks out to brush over his lips. He tilts his head a touch to one side, and colour rises up into his cheeks as he lifts one of his shoulders in a faint shrug. "It is only a guess. It is… possible? It is interesting to consider," he says softly, a small smile touching the corners of his lips. His dark gaze turns to Quentin, and he tilts his head a touch to one side, considering the words in that quiet way of his. "Trying will always be," he says softly, giving a small nod to the redhead. He will always try. He has to. It's too ingrained in him not to try. One of his eyebrows quirks slightly. "Yes. I think. There is a cycle. Of water. Plants are a big part of that," he says softly, a very small nod following the words. "I am… unsure. Water in a glass has no colour but water in a lake has colour. It is… strange. I do not know, in truth," he says softly, his brow furrowing a little bit. His learning and experiences are limited. He chews a little bit at the inside of his lower lip, considering the notion of blue and green further. Then he gives a small nod to Quentin. "See you in class, Quen," he offers, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

There has been some pondering on any advice that they can give, but for the most part comes up blank "I'm new here too. I'm not only a freshman but I've only been here a few weeks myself." they will be of little use in helping others fit in "Bodies of water only have color because they reflect the sky? I think I heard that somewhere." academics isn't their strong suit. They begin to wave at the departing Quinton "Oh! The ghost in the library likes the smell of earl grey tea!" they blurt out seeming almost spontaneous. AFter a few seconds they look sheepish "that's probably not the kind of advice you were looking for." Yes, apparently Reese believes in ghosts.

Quentin pauses briefly at the door to glance back at the offered advice, but it's better than nothing? "I'll keep that in mind, thanks," he calls back. Then he's gone and out the door. He doesn't know yet just how that could come in handy, but maybe it will!

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