ArchivedLogs:Coffee Conditioning

Coffee Conditioning
Rain = Caffeine. Apparently.
Dramatis Personae Doug, Micah	8 March 2013 One could potentially argue the need for a spoiler warning for the current season of Doctor Who. In a really vague kind of way.
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Tucked down an alley, this out of the way coffeeshop is easy to miss if you don't know what you're looking for. Unassuming from the outside, its inside makes up for it -- spacious, with abundant seating and plenty of plush couches and cosy armchairs along the room's edges. The coffee is good, the prices are cheap, and there is a definitive alternative vibe to the room, from the music they play to the art that hangs on the walls. The real draw to this place, though, stems from its client base -- one of the very few businesses in the city that is welcoming to mutants, Evolve has become widely popular as a hangout with that crowd, and it is quite common to see them among clientele and employees both. At night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits over the coffeehouse. Friday night, and mid-terms are over! The energy in Evolve from the relieved students about to embark on Spring Break is almost palpable (and, in the case of a couple of projecting empaths in the corner, contagious) as they gather for their pre-celebration meet-ups and espressos to carry them into the wee hours of the morning. Even Doug seems a bit jumpy with nervous excitement at his table. Remarkably, he is devoid of laptop, focusing his nerdery on the smartphone in his hands. He's not exactly dressed for going out, in a gray t-shirt (with a picture of Batman hugging Fluttershy with the words 'The Dark Brony' across the chest) and a pair of low-riding jeans that show a strip of skin where he slouches in his chair. Today, he tops the look with a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses that he keeps pushing back up his nose, the tilt of his head not helping at all. Micah zips in the door as quickly as possible, practically teleporting to the counter. It is /cold/ and /windy/ and /wet/ outside and he wants no more of that business. He strips off his sad, sopping Jayne hat and puffy coat, flinging them over one arm. He is wearing a pair of faded jeans that are a lot darker around the cuffs for dampness and a long-sleeved powder blue T-shirt with a Totoro face smiling on it, Cheshire-cat style. At least the shirt seems to have stayed dry. He quickly picks up a coffee order, cupping it in his hand to steal its warmth like a heat-vampire. Glancing around the room, he spots a…very phone-focused Doug. Challenge accepted. He tries to sneak up and tap him on the shoulder without being noticed first. Doug is /very/ focused on his phone, and even with the extra keyed-up feelings, he is blissfully unaware he is being stalked until he's tapped on the shoulder. Then he jumps, and turns, eyes wide as they land on...Micah. The grin that splits his face is wide and immediate at the sight of the older man, fading immediately into a wince. "Man, you look like someone tried to drown you," he teases in greeting, using his foot to slide out the vacant chair in invitation. "You get the sunroof stuck open on the TARDIS or something?" Micah has that big, goofy grin plastered on his face when Doug turns to see him. He is excessively pleased with himself for inducing the surprise-jumpiness. “Hey,” serves as his simple greeting. He /shivers/ from head to toe at the reminder of the weather that has been inflicted upon him. “I had to park not-at-all-close and the sky seems to /hate me/ right now.” He slides into the invitingly empty chair, bunching the coat up and stuffing it under the seat. Both hands are now free to cradle the cup like it is /life-giving/. Doug laughs. "There's this thing they've got," he says, leaning back and shoving his phone into his pocket. "It's called an umbrella. Very handy for keeping the rain off of yourself." He lifts his eyebrows, eyes dancing merrily as he watches Micah's coffee-cradling. "You must have been dying for a cuppa, if you braved this." He lifts a hand at the window, and as if nature is obliging, there's a flicker of lightning. Which impresses Doug, and he scrunches his nose. "Man. I feel like I missed an opportunity for an evil laugh, there." So he offers one now, a chilling Lugosi-like laugh that draws the attention of the tables closest. Micah breaks out his epic pouty-face, lower lip out and everything. “I /broke/ mine the last time I came here in the rain. Oh, great, the operant conditionin’ is working. Every time it rains I feel the need to come here for coffee now. Stupid brain.” Speaking of coffee… He sips from the cup. It’s too hot, but worth a little tongue-searing. The lightning-evil-laugh combination makes his eyes go wide. He giggles a /gleeful/ six-year-old sort of giggle. "So, it's Pavlovian, now?" Doug seems amused by this, dropping the evil scientist and leaning forward. "That could get inconvenient, seeing as it's Spring. Like my granddad says, you'll be wound up like an eight day clock with that kind of caffeine input." He grins, and waves a hand. "Especially on a Friday night." Then something occurs to him, and he grins widely. "Hey! We met here on a Friday night! It's our..." he wrinkles his nose, and pulls out his phone, punching up something. "...three week-iversary!" “Mmm caffeine…” Micah drinks more, having cued himself. “Sleep is overrated. I’ll take the buzz, thanks.” He watches Doug consult his phone again. “Really? Has it been that long already? Yay, friendship is magic!” He actually puts down the cup for a second to flutter-wiggle his fingers in approving silent laughter. “Hey, how did the econ. go?” Heat-seeking hands latch onto the coffee cup again. The phone gets shoved back in a pocket as Doug reaches for his own cup of now-probably-cool coffee and takes a big sip. "Yay!" he can't help but echo Micah, his own hand fluttering at the image on his chest. The question gets a chuff of laughter that borders on a snort. "It was actually harder than anticipated," he says. "But I think I managed to do pretty well. I don't have trouble with the math side of it, but the theories and politics of it all bore me to tears." He lifts a shoulder. "But, if I want to own my own computer company one day, it's the price I have to pay, I guess." He lifts his cup in salute. "And I finished my last Comp Sci mid-term this morning, so I am free and clear for the next ten days." “Ugh, I know. This is why I hired out for all the financial blah-de-blah parts.” Micah scrunches up one eye, sticking his tongue out a little, as if his opinion needed more visual aid. “Exams all done? Oh, that is an /awesome/ feeling.” His expression waxes a little college-nostalgic. “You got big plans, or just gonna enjoy the lazy?” Doug laughs, although it's soft as he watches Micah screw his face up. He leans back in his chair, throwing one arm over the back. "Maybe I'll work on a program that handles that kind of stuff that's more intuitive than Quicken." He narrows one eye at Micah. "Or maybe I'll just install Quicken on your computer and teach you how to use it. That way, you can be even more profitable." He offers a wide grin, and shakes his head at the question. "I'm going for lazy," he says. "My biggest plans are going to the movies with you on Saturday, and maybe taking that tour they offer of Stark Tower." He brightens. "Oh, hey! You should come and check that out, too." “Nooo,” Micah releases the cup again, just long enough to flail in protest. “I have a finances-program already in place. Her name is Janine, and she lets me /not think about it/ while being paid way less than she’s worth.” He grins a bit at that this assertion. “She actually enjoys that stuff. I think it may be a mental illness.” Micah nods as he listens to Doug’s plans, the little wings that are forming in his air-drying hair nodding along with him. “Lazy is good sometimes. Aww…I’m Big Plans now.” The grin widens. “What kinda tour-thing is this?” Doug holds up a hand. "Okay, okay. Fair enough. I don't want to put anyone out of a job." He grins. "I thought you were using some sort of firm or something." He wrinkles his nose, and drops his hand back to the table. "Yeah...there are a few people like that in my Econ class. They get the same sort of look I feel like I get in my Comp Sci class." He lifts his eyebrows. "Which just goes to prove that everyone's a nerd about /something/." He pinkens a bit at Micah's response to his plans, and scrunches his nose. "You were always Big Plans," he says, ducking his head, and mercifully, Micah is distracting him with the second question. "Oh, it's fantastic, I hear," he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "It's a tour of their tech and energy research labs. Then it ends with a video presentation by Tony Stark on what current projects there are. That part's a little cheesy, according to my friend Ahmed." He grins, and lifts his hand in the air. "It's like...Futureland, but with more security and less giant mice." “Firm…no… I conscripted my GM. Well, honestly, she self-conscripted.” Micah matches Doug’s nose-crinkling with his own bunny-like gesture, eyes closing just long enough for reddish lashes to brush his cheeks. “I’m all about the tech. And no complaints about watchin’ Mr. Stark go into tech-the-tech-tech mode. Y’know. For science.” He laughs softly through a vaguely suggestive smile. "Can't beat volunteers," Doug says, crinkling his eyes at the older man over the rim of his cup. "Even the ones you pay." He watches Micah's face as he speaks, lowering his cup to set it on the table. When it appears Micah is down for tech-tours, his grin is wide enough to technically classify as goofy. "Excellent," he says, and there's a long moment when he's just staring at Micah with that dumb grin. Then he pulls himself almost visibly together, and shakes his head as if clearing it. "Those things are always more fun with a fellow geek," he offers in an embarrassed voice, looking at Micah through lowered lashes. "Y'know, to talk science and toys and stuff with after." “Don’t need to beat volunteers, they’re already doin’ what you want them to,” Micah jokes with a Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle indicating that he’s /aware/ it’s a bad pun, but he’s going with it anyway. He’s almost pathologically incapable of leaving a pun on the table. “Geek pride!” Micah flashes a happy grin. “Why the shy over geekdom? /I/ think it’s an admirable quality.” Not to offer oneself flattery or anything… Doug clears his throat, and lifts a shoulder. "I dunno," he says, scrunching his nose. "Some geeks make me shy." He pinkens again, and reaches for his coffee, pushing up to hide his face as he regards the older man over the rim of his cup. He doesn't seem able to voice much beyond that, the pink deepening in his ears. Micah…isn’t quite certain how to take that. But Doug’s ongoing blushing is making him start to blush a bit because it takes next to nothing to set it off. He giggles a little, sort of his default response, and sips from his own cup. “Sooo. Movie. Tomorrow. What time? I can drive if it’s drivey-distance.” So much blushing! Pink geeks for the win. But thankfully, Micah's question is a nice sort-of subject change. "Oh! Um..." he leans back to fish out his phone, unconsciously pulling up his t-shirt to access the pocket. He punches a couple of things on the screen, and wrinkles his nose. "Logan's Run starts at 4:25," he says, grinning up at Micah. "And hell yes, you can drive. I've wanted to ride in a TARDIS for about as long as I knew crazy British guys drove them." He punches a couple of more things on the screen, and grins. "There's even a parking garage less than half a block from the Waverly, so you can avoid parking on the street." Micah is chuckling more earnestly now. “Happy to oblige.” He slides into a David Tennant accent—English version, not Scottish. “And garages are good. Subtle. TARDIS less likely to be Angel-thefted.” Making up words is totally Doctor-legit. Doug's gaze goes a bit smoky at the sudden accent, and his lashes lower in appreciation. "If you're looking to avoid Angels, you're in the wrong city, Doc," he drawls in a poor imitation of John Barrowman's American accent. "This place is crawling with gargoyles and stuff. Have you not /seen/ the first half of this season?" It's a gentle tease, and Doug actually reaches out with a sneakered toe to nudge at Micah's leg. "Okay, since you're driving, I'll cover the tickets," he says, withdrawing his foot as he leans forward. "And it's every man for himself for snacks. Deal?" "Although," he adds. "I'm happy to share my popcorn with you." “Oh, riiiight,” Micah snickers. “I’m totally not supposed to be here. Timelines!” He mimes an explosion. “Wibbly-wobbly in the /worst/ way.” This sentence amuses him to no end. “So many ‘W’s’!” He switches over to a Matt Smith impression. “Although this wasn’t the me that was talking at the time.” Time travellers. So complicated. “Deal.” He nudges Doug back…kindly with a non-prosthetic toe. “I share popcorn now. Sharing popcorn is cool.” Micah makes an attempt at a self-satisfied Matt Smith face, but ruins it by grinning. "Alliteration is awesome," Doug says, the goofy grin working its way back across his face. "You're really good at that," he says, resting an elbow on the table. "The best I can manage is Sean Connery." He chuckles, and pinkens again when Micah returns (!) the nudge. "Cool," he murmurs, looking down at the floor briefly before he looks up with another scrunch of his nose. "Oh, hey...that tour is only on Tuesdays and Thursdays," he says. "They do one on the weekend, but it's more for tourists and not the hardcore techheads." “I /might/ have had a little bit of practice,” Micah admits with a bashful little smile, front teeth meeting lower lip. “Hm…weekdays can be a little wild to schedule. How long do the tours run?” His eyes trace upward, consulting an invisible schedule in the air. “Thursday’s probably going to be easier than Tuesday. I have a new gaming group I promised to boardgame night with on Tuesday nights. I mean…we can’t be missin’ out on the hardcore version.” Smirk. "Well it paid off," Doug offers in appreciative murmur, looking down as he fishes his phone back out. "Tour is three hours, including the twenty minute video presentation," he says with a wince. "There's one at 10 AM and one at two in the afternoon." He frowns at the screen, and taps it a couple of times. "Sorry. There are four tours that run. The others go at eleven and at three." He looks up and frowns. "That's a big chunk of time out of the day," he says apologetically. "I'd understand if you couldn't commit." Micah “hms” again. “Might could pull the last one if I shift a few things.” His lopsided grin returns. “Part of the benefits of bein’ self-employed. Ain’t gotta ask permission or nothin’.” He takes another drink from his diminishing supply of coffee. Doug chuffs a laugh, and the grin he gives Micah in return is a bit suggestive as his eyebrows lift. "Just do whatever you want, huh?" Micah gives a little snort in reply. “Honey badger don’t care,” he offers though giggles. "Thursday at three," Doug confirms, tapping the information into his calendar. "It's a date." /That/ comes with another pinkening of his ears, although he lets it go. "Honey badger, huh?" he says, chuckling. "You seem a bit more...um. Cuddly." More pink! "Than that." Micah also chooses to just…breeze by Doug’s word choice there. “Ha!” He actually /says/ ‘ha’. “No, really, I’m like the least bad-ass thing that has ever happened. If I ran into a cobra, I’d be up on a chair like a woman in an old cartoon, clutchin’ at my skirts and waitin’ for someone to rescue me. Those things are /scary/.” "Dude. You're /bionic/. That alone is a whole star's worth of bad-assery." Doug's eyes crinkle, and he tilts his head. "I don't see skirts," he decides. "But I could see you up on a chair, for sure." He grins. "That is, if I didn't knock you off of it climbing up myself." He frowns. "So I guess I would fail as Knight-Protector, against cobras." He lifts his eyebrows. "But I'm +3 to hit against dragons." “Shoot,” Micah draws the word out like it’s got extra ‘O’s’ in it. “These legs? Just /made/ to rock a mini-skirt.” He manages a downright /girlish/ look, all coy eyelash flutters over a shoulder. “But just /how/ did you pick up an anti-dragon bonus?” And the geekiness. It just goes on as long as there is /caffeine/ to be had.