ArchivedLogs:The Date Goddess
| The Date Goddess | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-02-22 Ivan comes to Shelby for a little advice. |
| Location
<XS> Treehouse | |
Built by enterprising students of yesteryear, this treehouse has weathered generations of Xaviers' students coming up here to study -- or escape from studying. A cozy retreat, its wood planks are sturdy and well-sanded, fit snug together to keep out draft. Snacks occasionally find their way up here, and the roof keeps the rain off well enough to pass a night -- so long as the teachers don't catch any students at it. For anyone agile enough to make the jump, a lucky leap juuust might carry them from here to the school rooftop, so long as they're careful of the drop... Another Friday afternoon, and the school grounds slowly empty of the students who prefer to spend their time somewhere less... learny. Ivan is not one of those people, and he has opted for something else- going somewhere on the grounds he hadn't gone before; The treehouse is new to him, still, and he wanders around it as if it were a museum, hands clasped behind his back. He's wearing his usual boring old jeans and off-white dress shirt, and there's a certain forced preciseness to his steps as he walks in useless little circles. This may have something to do with the note he left under a dorm room door earlier, addressed to Shelby. Once unfolded, it said simply, Ivan turns on his heels to face the entrance to the treehouse when a pachyderm attack seems imminent. And what a place for it! This is going to get exciting. This assumption causes the disappointment which is then aimed at him to be aimed right back, though for entirely different reasons. But then he remembers that this is actually a preferable visitor, he rushes to her side to-- he's not sure. He ponders sticking out a hand to help her up, and it shows in his /almost sticking out a hand to help her up/, but then- he never actually does. FWOMP. He just sits next to her instead, his face alert and hands balled into fists. his mouth opens and-- nothing. For once he really wants to say something, but nothing happens. Shelby lies there until it is clear that help is /not/ on the way. Then, with the most dramatic of sighs, she pushes herself up onto an elbow and rolls onto her side, facing the other teenager. Again, she waits. Again, she is disappointed. Her eyebrows draw together. "Okay, so, like, I know English isn't your first language and all, dude, but I just said I gotta get back soon." Of course, it's only /after/ she's spoken that she thinks to actually slow her speech down to make it less rattled off and more comprehensible. Another breath is taken. "What. Is. Up. Spit. It. Out. Ivanovich." Nh? Ivan snaps out of his stupor, with the briefest shakes of his head. Alright. Deep breath. He looks a little distraught, now, and wraps his hands around his neck before they drop into his lap. After several seconds, he leans ever so slightly closer and says with a look of utmost concern, "Does Rasa like dates?" WAIT. His shoulders snap back, and for a moment he bears a striking resemblance to a puppy having just been caught tearing up all the toilet paper in the house. "No-- I mean. What does Rasa like. I would- like to know." Success! Shelby has to grin at her own ingenuity. Not only did she get him talking but she actually got him to reveal a /weakness/. Kind of. "S'okay, I knew you liked her. So you wanna take her on a date, huh?" And of course he'd come to hir roommate. So long as Shelby doesn't confess to not knowing a whole lot about Rasa, this should go /swell/. She levers herself up to a seated position, folding her legs and curling her arms around her knees. Full of officious--false--knowledge, she begins, "Rasa hasn't really dated much, y'know? Like, at /all/. So you're totally going in with a clean slate and that's /awesome/ but it also means you're kinda like...setting the bar for /every/ other date she'll ever go on. Ever." Ivan's face doesn't know what to do with itself. He's listening attentively, and his expression goes from hopeful to confused, and then back to more of a blank look that is probably caused by contained, nervous disappointment, from the looks of one of his hands trying to mercilessly /crush/ the other. "So-- how do I make it /not bad/?" This sounds more like an absentminded question to himself than to Shelby, and indeed his gaze wanders to his own hands as he ponders. That is an excellent question. An answer requires that Shelby think for a moment, idly rocking back and forth on her butt. Her eyes go towards the ceiling, to complete the contemplative look. "Welllll," she says, "if you /really/ wanna knock her socks off, you go all out. We could pull in some folks to help. Make it super fancy. Like...what if you asked her out for dinner, right? But instead of taking her someplace, we set up the dock down by the lake with lights and candles, and like...a table for dinner for two. Oh! Oh oh oh, and me and B and Shane could /totally/ play you guys some romantic music while you ate, and then you could ask her to dance again, and /oh my god/ this is going to be the best date /ever/." Ivan looks back up at Shelby, right into her face. Trying to read her expression as well as he can. Cogs are turning in his little head, cogs that lead to the very healthy assumption that her plan might be a little crazy overboard for a sheltered individual like Ivan who has never had a date nor even really talked to his potential date. That is, they lead there in NORMAL PEOPLE's heads. In oblivious little Ivan's head, however, they lead to his face lighting up with a smile, perking up where he sits, as if a tremendous weight had just been lifted off of his shoulders. Oh boy oh boy. His mind reeling, he quietly asks, "When?" It does not help matters that Shelby too is something of a dating novice. She has exactly one (1) date under her belt. Yet here she is, masterminding The Best Date in the Universe. She gets her hands into it too, talking with them as she illustrates the full scope of her plans. "It'll probably take, like...maybe a week to set up? I'll have to talk to B but he'd totally do it if I asked, and I bet we could get Shane in on it if we both leaned on him. That gives you two guitars and a violin, right? Plus a vocalist. That's me, I'm awesome, you'll love it. We can get the lights and candles from the Dollar Store. The food's the tricky thing but I bet if we made big eyes at Savita in the kitchen, she could totally hook us up." There are several nods from Ivan now, and he seems perfectly happy to let Date Goddess Shelby take the lead. So much so that he hasn't got a single complaint, ending up staring somewhat wistfully ahead of him. This is going to be amazing, he just knows it. Wait, right, people usually say things. "Thank you." He blurts out in the middle of a thought. "I do not know many people. I am glad I know you." He states this as fact. Earnest statements of gratitude? Yeah, those make Shelby uncomfortable, particularly when they are delivered by dead sincere people such as Ivan. Shelby shifts on her rump. "Yeah, um. It's...I'm glad too," she says, albeit lamely, with her eyes cut off to the side. "Anyway, I gotta run, right? Ryan's gonna be pissed if we get stuck in traffic," she goes on, scrambling up and making for the ladder. "I'll talk to B and Shane about it, maybe you can work on Savita for the food." Ivan doesn't move. He's too busy /processing/ this potential wonderdate, hands pressed to the floor between folded legs while his brain tries to figure out what to do if one is stuck between anxiety and excitement. "I will." He replies in a flat tone before Shelby leaves his sight entirely, and then another FWOMP- as he just buckles and ends up on his back, staring up at the ceiling for a while. Half an hour later of silence later, he comes to a conclusion to quell one of his problematic emotions. There is no way this is ever not going to be absolutely perfect. | |
