[D3 EA] Some Kind of Bliss

[Chantelle Rossette]

Chantelle rapped her chin thoughtfully, then, appearing to change her mind, “oh, no Queen. Jus’ one rula fo’ each Court. At de momen’ Autumn ‘as a King. An odd one, I daresay.” She finally finished her cheesecake, setting the fork tidily on the plate, primly wiping her beak and folding the napkin, setting the plate aside. “You kno’ dere is a Spring girl who is in a ban’, judgin’ by ‘er mo’ of dress, she migh’ be more to your likin’. Ah, wha’ was ‘er name? Lily? Lisa? Liza! Weh, dat is it, Liza, de pun’ rocka.”

[Tiffani]

Tiffani chuckles a little, reaching one hand beneath her hair and gently massaging the back of her neck. "So the punk scene managed to gain some traction in the music industry since the 80's, hmm? In my day, they were sort of ... fringe, I guess. Still not in my musical area but it's a lot closer. And uh, mosh pits really aren't my thing." She giggles girlishly, a rather musical sound, the first time she had made that sound since being tossed into the Hedge. "I would get trampled in seconds."

She sobers up quickly, however, giving you a rather serious, even somber, look. "What do I need to do to visit this king? Is he really a king? Like, with actual subjects and things? We had a queen in the UK ... is she still around? But she was really only a figurehead."

[Chantelle Rossette]

Laughing warmly, “dat Queen gon’ live foreva.” Becoming a little more serious, “mais, de rula of each Court is a sor’ of elect position? I,” Chantelle made an apologetic gesture, “I still ‘aven’ qui’ go’ my ‘ead aroun’ it all jus’ ye’.”

[Tiffani]

This time, it was Tiffani's turn to smile warmly at Chantelle. She waves a hand dismissively as if it were not all that important. "Don't worry. I don't need to know everything today and, perhaps, we can try to wrap our minds around it together."

Another drink of cappaccino, her stormy eyes carefully watching Chantelle over her drink.

"And ... hmm ... where can I get one of those little phone things that you can take with you anywhere and even tells you exactly where you are and stuff? Everyone has one now. I can't even talk to anyone anymore because everyone has one of those phones glued to their ears. Honestly, how does anyone even meet people these days? In fact ... you were one of the only people who weren't already talking to someone. How come?"

[Chantelle Rossette]

“Mais, I guess I jus’ don’ know dat many people? I li’ to play games on mine, bu’ I don’ spen’ a lo’ of time chattin’. It spen’s mos’ of de time in my purse.” In one of her shopping bags was the very thing they were talking about: one of her shopping errands had been to pick up a phone as a gift for Jack, but finding that Marcus and Tiffany needed them as well, she was starting to calculate if she could stretch her last pay check to cover all of them.

[Tiffani]

Tiffani frowned as she set down her drink, yet another dawning realizing setting into her stomach like some kind of nauseating virus. "Actually, now that you mention it, I guess I really don't need one of those phones after all. I mean, who am I going to call, right?"

She gave a rather self-depracating chuckle, but her voice was sad. It only served to remind her that all of her friends were gone - lively, energetic, invincible teens now in their 50s with spouses and kids and perhaps even grandkids. And here she was, still as young as the day she had seen them last. She looked down at her drink, pursing her lips for a moment.

"I'm not feeling very good at the moment. I'm sorry ... I shouldn't bring up things that make me remember my old life."

[Chantelle Rossette]

“Don’ worry, you’ll mee’ people fas’ enough,” Chantelle assured, but there was concern in her eyes at the mention of feeling unwell.

[Tiffani]

"Yeah ..." Tiffani said in a small voice. "I'm sure I will."

She began playing with individual charms on her charm bracelet as if recounting what each charm stood for. There was the charm her parents got her for her 16th birthday - a big number 16. A megaphone for making the cheerleading squad. A little cat when she got her first kitten when she was seven. A wolf signifying her school mascot. A book when she was given a full-ride scholarship to MIT. Heh, she never made it to MIT. Her whole life symbolized there on her arm.

Tiffani suddenly looked up, putting her arm back on the table. "Alright," she said in a stronger voice. "Enough of being a weeping willow. It's not who I am. Yes, I'm ready to move forward. What's gone is gone, right?"

[Chantelle Rossette]

“Dat’s de spiri’,” Chantelle replied, and finished her drink. “Will you be alrigh’ until tonigh’? I don’ feel grea’ abou’ leavin’ you alone.”

[Tiffani]

"I'll be okay," Tiffani said before draining the last of her cappoccino and then making a rather daring throw to a trashcan two aisles away. She missed. Instead, the cup careened off the trashcan and flew into a group of tables nearby, earning her the scowls and glares of several customers.

Tiffani only laughed and said, "Oopsie" under her breath.

"Anyway ... yeah, I won't lie. I like the company of others. Being alone ... it ... it's hard. But you owe me nothing, Chantelle. You can't babysit me all the time. If you need to take care of other things, by all means, go. As I said, I'll be okay. And I'll stop by your place tonight."