2017.04.13: of Pain and Gain

of Pain and Gain
Trip, fall, meet a guy, fall again?
IC Date	April 13th, 2017
IC Time	Mid-Day
Players	Tavia, Dusk
Location	North Beach Athletics Park & Surfer's Cove

Walking quietly with an introspective look upon her face, Tavia's pace is slow but it has a consistant rhythm to it. Her eyes seem fixed at a consistant distance just a couple yards in front of her, studying the ground. Clearly she is lost in thought. The weather is nice out, and a soft breeze comes in from the ocean, carrying the hint of salt in the air.

Meandering in the the flux of morning crowd, Dusk moves over and stops to take an eye full of the park, likely taking it in for the first time. His green eyes scan over and gives quickly suppressed smile upon seeing security doing their rounds. When spys the concrete pads with tables, he begins heading in that direction armed with his only obvious possession: a hotdog from the orange food truck just outside.

Closing her eyes in a moment of particular thought-provoking distress, Tavia accidently catches her checkered black and white converse shoe on a slight rise in the uneven concrete, causing her to flail and fall to her hands and knees. She grimmaces, the rough surface scratching at her palms. "Shit." She says under her breath, rolling over to sit on the grass right next to where she had fallen on the concrete walkway. That was embarassing. Hopefully no one saw that. She gazes at her hands, then tries to wipe off the dirt on her pants, where she notices a fresh hole and a bleeding kneecap. "Great."

On his way, who can't help but notice the flail, the fall, the sound of bodies (or body) hitting the ground. He stops and winces before turning course to head in that direction, stopping when he gets close enough to hold a normal volume conversation, "Uhh," smooth, "would you like some help?" he offers, bending over at the hips, his long hair dangling freely while he offers the napkins he had gathered for his pre-lunch lunch.

A defeated expression crosses Tavia's visage, her eyes squinting up through embarassment. Someone /had/ seen. At first, she looks as if she wants nothing to do with the man. Pride, probably. But she lets out a breath and holds out a hand, looking for help back to her feet. "Thanks." She says, not really looking him in the eyes, her olive cheeks a tinge red.

With her hand posed the way it is, Dusk turns his from offering paper products to putting his hand under hers and standing erect once more. The smile on his face is genuine, "Hey, it's no problem," he starts before looking at to her knee, "but I think that they might have to amputate." With his other hand, still holding his pig snout shaped like a sausage in a bun, he points at her torso, "Nice shirt by the way. I like Teen Spirit."

Gathering herself, she finally brings her brown eyes to look up into his moss-green ones. She studies his face, notices his smile, and she offers one back, feeling a bit more relaxed now that she was back on her feet. "That's unfortunate. It's my favorite of the two." She says, talking about her leg. "Thanks. Grunge at its best." She then puts a hand behind her head, running her fingers through her short dark brown hair. "Just don't ask me about details. I only listen to music, I don't try to live it." She comments, her smile persisting.

Dusk's smile widens a little for a moment while he looks down again at the damage, "And I can see why." As his hand is free again, he offers the napkins again, "You sure you don't want one? You might be able to still wear those if you like the whole torn knee look, and it'd be a shame to get blood on them. Oh, I'm Dusk," he touches his hotdog to his chest, oblivious of the grease mark, "and I can't say I'm much of a grunge-head either."

Did he just... She glances down at her leg, then takes the offered napkin. "You have a point." Glancing around, she spots a bench that was fairly close, under some shade. She manages to move over to it without wincing too obviously. Once there, she sits and applies the napkin to her knee, doing her best to clean it. It wasn't too bad.

Following along, his brows uplifted with a little bemusement and worry, he stands nearby, watching the medical procedure being conducted on her leg. "Well," he says in an off handed manner once pressure's been added, "it looks like the copious bleeding has stopped," before he looks back up with a joking smile. "Maybe the leg can be saved after all. You need any help, or anything? I can loan you my phone if you need to call someone to come get you," he smile falters, the offer made with seriousness.

Tavia laughs awkwardly. "I'll be fine. It just stings. I've had worse." She then picks both feet up off the ground and slides them onto the bench, wrapping her arms around her legs as she rests her chin on the 'good' leg. Her eyes study him with an evident curiousity. Picking her head up slightly, she mentions "most people don't stop to help. Thank you." She then shrugs. "Besides, the worst damage was done to my pride. I'll just have to find a way to repair that and all will be good-as-new."

Inviting himself down, he sits slowly across from her, some things just aren't built for tall people, or he's had bad experiences having had his own shins bashed once or twice while sitting down at public tables. After being seated he reaches behind him and pulls out paper back book: California the beautiful, and lays it on the table top, on to which, his lunch is rested. His smile returns while he reaches back and pulls his hair back, "Well, I suppose I'm not most people, and I couldn't let a Nirvana fan, never mind a person in pain, suffer alone." He looks down at the hotdog, picks off a piece of the bun and throws it underhanded towards the grass. Presumably for the birds.

Tavia turns to face him as he sits across from her at the table, her legs dropping down under it as she leans forward and peeks at the book's cover, reading the title. An eyebrow goes up, but she doesn't speak on it. Her eyes flick back up to his once more. "You're a regular hero." she remarks, half joking half not. It's not like he swooped in and saved her from a thousand foot fall, but the good intention was still there. She felt her stomach give complaint, but she ignored it. Food would have to wait.

Dusk's cheeks are quick to turn a darker shake of pink at being referred to as a hero and he turns down his head, causing a stray strand to escape from the rest of his hair to come to a rest on the middle of the left side of his face. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that," he's quick to add which his chest blushes as well. Lifting his head, he casts it over her shoulder at playing couple, and then back. "I, ah. Was just going to do a little bit of reading, eat something, " he bobs his head to indicate the items before him, "I don't know if I would be good company, but I wouldn't mind if you stayed."

Tavia finds his sudden bashfulness curious, her eyes lit with an inquisitive mirth now. Funny how little things can change your perspective. Meeting new people was always an experience, one she sometimes enjoyed, like right now. Perhaps her own embarrassment was worth it. "I'll stick around, can't rush these things, ya' know? Wouldn't want to further injure myself."

Nodding slightly, causing the strand to sway, Dusk picks the hot dog up with it's paper cozy and places it between the two of them, a clear invitation, at least to him. He picks the book up that was underneath it and fans through the pages with the accompanying sounds of flipping pages. "So," he says when the flipping ceases at the front cover, "I don't mean to pry or anything, but do you come out here to trip here often?"

With a grin, Tavia fights to keep from laughing at her own expense. "This is my first time here. I usually walk or jog on the beach or at the park near the UC." She contorts her mouth a bit, then adds "Might be my last time here. The cement and I had a disagreement. It's not working out."

Dusk smirks knowingly, "I don't know, I think the two of you can work it out, but I wouldn't put up with any more physical abuse, honey," and as part of the act, he stiffens his spine, closes his eyes, and shakes his right hand, index finger pointed. When he's finished with whomever he's impersonating, he bends his spine again, so his forearms reach the table and his toothy smile returns. "I just moved here myself, a couple of days ago. I was looking for a place to run. My neighborhood doesn't look so friendly, some gangs in the area. And I wouldn't want the ground here to get jealous if it seems me with you."

Tavia puts a hand to her face, partially concealing her amusement, peeking at him through fingers and loose hair. "You're more than welcome to join me." She suggests, "It's easier to stick with a routine when you have someone to do it with." She blinks. "Jogging, I mean." Her eyes divert.

A smile appears on his face while she covers hers, and widens when the offer is made, "Hey, that'd be great." Dusk points down with his left hand, switching the book to his right, "Do you do it here, and at what time?" He doesn't make a glance at his wrist because nobody wears watches anymore, but rather, puts his book down on the table top and leans back, making his mostly open shirt open further, while he fetches his phone and puts the Apple device down. Looking awkwardly to his left for a moment, his smile changes to a little concern, before he looks back at you with a nod, "Yeah, jogging. What else..." he asks, leaving the question unfinished.

With a thumb directing his attention over her shoulder toward the beach, she shakes her head. "No, I run on the beach... or at Maple Park, down town. It's close to where I live." She then reaches out to try and take his phone, quick but not overly aggressive. "I could give you my number...?" she says, while doing so.

Following the gesture, his brows go up to match his impressed expression, before he returns the gaze back to her, with a lopsided smile. "Hey, I live downtown too. Third and F, though, so I don't think," and he stresses that last word, "that that's nearby the park. But it isn't so far from here." With the offer of her phone number, he doesn't prevent her from taking his phone, in fact, he takes it too to give for an awkward moment of holding hands before he lets get and his blush, a light blush and muttered apology, returns.

Taking his phone from his hand, Tavia quickly, perhaps too quickly, pulls it to herself and swipes it unlocked. She navigates to contacts and puts herself on the list. In the process of doing so, she does give what she can see of his current list of contacts a quick once over, though she doesn't linger. Pressing the power button and turning the screen back off, she offers it back, holding it out to him. "My name is Tavia, by the way." She smiles as she watches him.

His contact list reads like one would probably expect: girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend, wife, girlfriend, girl

Just kidding. There are a number of names on the list, and with the quick look it would appear that he does collect more female sounding names rather than male. One or two are just abbreviations, and he even has one titled simply 'Mom'. Probably covert contact information. For Dusk's part, he just smiles while she types and browse, more watching her rather than where she's going on the device. And when she's done, and offers it back, he straightens his spine again and accepts it again. "Thanks," he says brightly. He had introduced himself previously, but does it again, maybe out of reflex, "And I'm Dusk," which matches up with the name on the screen. "About what time are you up? I don't want to text to soon."

Giving him a shrug with her left shoulder, Tavia slouches a bit. "I'm usually up pretty early. I don't sleep well..." She frowned, then waved off his inquiry with a flick of her wrist. "Don't worry about when you text. If I don't want to be bothered, I just turn it off. If I didn't want you to text me, I wouldn't have given you my number." She then tries to think of a good reason to have said that, besides the possibly obvious one. "It's uh, good for us new-comers to stick together, right?"

For a moment it looks like he might say something, an inquisitive expression, his lips parting as he opens his mouth. But with the flick of his wrist, his expression returns to just interested as it was before and with the hint of his smile mostly in his eyes. "Ok, good. The last thing I'd want to be is a bother. You mentioned UC, so I figured you must be still in school." He leans forward, puts his phone into his back pocket and folds his arms over his book. "Are you?

Tavia nods, "Yeah. I'm majoring in Cultural Studies. You know. Cultures..." She smirks at that, "I needed a change. I'm originally from upper state New York. I had to get out of there." She peers at him, eyes looking down his form, but it was so quick it might have been missed. "You?" She asks, wanting to know where he was from. "You runnin' from somethin', or to something?"

His right lip lifts up with a bemused smile, before he shrugs softly. "Hey," he says, reaching across the table and patting her side of the table in a gesture meant to assure, "I think that if you do something that you love, whatever it is, then that's the noblest of pursuits. It doesn't have to be something glamorous or prestigious. Just something that you like." He looks up, using that hand to brush wayward hair back in place. With a soft sniff, he returns his gaze back down, he doesn't seem to have noticed the time or two he's been glanced at as he nods, "Yeah, actually, me too." Once again he averts his gaze, as he explains, "I was in a," He pauses, like the wounds are still fresh and he's trying to put a name to it, "unhealthy relationship. I had to get away too." He turns his head back to fix you with a wounded gaze. "I guess we have more in common than just being new."

Tavia sits quietly after he finished speaking, her brown eyes searching his face, studying the emotion there. "I'm sorry to hear that." She says, meaning it. She then lays her hand, palm up, out on the table, reached across and in his space. Clearly, its a gesture that says 'take my hand'. "If I can survive it, so can you." She would squeeze his hand should he take hers, though it is a gentle squeeze from soft hands. "I think my knee is feeling better." She says, taking her hand back and moving the bum knee out from under the bench and strattling it now. Her gaze shifts over toward the beach. "I want to go down near the water. want to join me?" she asks him.

He puckers his bottom lip at the words of heart felt sympathy, and puts on a brave smile. Not the kind that conveys, a thanks for saying the right thing, but the kind that actually believes it was, "Thank you." When the hand is offered, he doesn't take it. Rather, he does something weirder, much, much weirder and possibly more intimate. With his forefinger, he begins to trace the lines along her palm. Life lines. Without seeming pattern or cause, until the hand is taken back but the gesture has made him happier all the same, with a wider smile.

Following her gaze and back, he nods his head and stands up, picking up his book and putting it in the other back pocket before he picks up the hot dog he only moderately molested. With both hands he rips it in half, measures them together and offers the larger of the two to her silently, with an upraised brow and inquisitive expression.

As Dusk rose to his feet, Tavia too swung her feet out and stood up. With a heave of a breath, she was just about to start wondering why she felt so invigorated, and then it dawned on her. He's attractive. Nice. The half of a hotdog that is offered to her only further seals her thoughts. She tentatively accepts it. She was famished, after all. She up-nods in the direction they were going to head, to get around the wall that divided the ocean and beach from the athletic park. Only hesitating long enough to make sure he was in tow, she leads the way, unabashed in how she quickly ate the offered food. She had been so lost to her thoughts that she skipped lunch by accident.

For his part, Dusk doesn't seem to mind falling behind. He eats in small bites while he watches: most where he's walking but more then that, the curves of the woman ahead of him while trying to maintain some chance that he won't get caught staring. It doesn't take him to long to eat, who knew they've been up there talking for hours and it only felt like a few minutes. And she could be leading him to murder point creek for all he knows, but the view, of the beach to name but(t) one thing seems promising. And so he dutifully follows on.

Tavia reaches the sand and pauses to take off her shoes and no-show socks. She tucks the socks into the shoes and caries them as she steps out onto the beach. The wind picks up a bit, billowing loose articles of clothing and wreaking havoc on any attempts at keeping her hair straight and orderly. She didn't care. In fact, her demeanor is noticably more up-beat upon setting eyes on the vast ocean before them. The cove is riddled with surfers, in and out of the water, but it's otherwise pleasantly un-populated. Once they're near to the water's edge, she finally stops, dropping her shoes to the sand and holding a hand up to shade her eyes from the sun. She looks back and smiles at Dusk. "My favorite place so far." She tells him.

While she stops, he pulls beside her and glances down when the strip show starts. There's a small nod from him, externalizing the question of why you'd stopped, and he does the same. Dress shoes, well worm in aren't made for beach wear and it was difficult walking but he wasn't complaining. The black shoes on his feet follow and get tucked into the toes of his shoes. As with you, his hair is allowed to just go free, so with the windy cove, it flys in every direction with untamed beasts; like Medusa's own head of snakes. His shoes join yours, making a small pile in the sand while he looks down at you, and then over his shoulder. His lips pull wide with an amused smile as he turns around, "Aren't you more used to it behind this way?" he asks, inferring your New York status must mean you're used to the Atlantic.

Tavia furrows her brow slightly, taking a moment to understand his words. "... wha... oh!" She then laughs. "Well it's certainly different to see the sun set over the water, instead of rise." She then rolls her eyes and playfully attempts at giving his shoulder a shove. She then proceeds to remove her jacket, dropping it on top of the shoes, careless of the sand. It probably already had sand in it, anyway. She reveals that the Nirvana shirt has been made sleeveless, the arm holes dropping low, about half way down her sides. A black sports-bra type deal is visable underneath it. "The water is warmer here, too." She adds.

His smile is made into a grin as she gets it, and then he gets the push he so richly deserves, swaying with the motion and chuckling under his breath. He turns around again, pulling hair from his face again and again since there just isn't a way to do that gracefully, while he eyes the surfer's still out in the afternoon water. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it. I haven't been out of this state," he leans down and towards her before adding, "And I don't mean of bliss." The movement of more clothing being removed causes his attention to drift back, and down. He comments on the armlessness state of the t-shirt with a throated sound of thoughtfulness, "Hmm. Are you going swimming?" he asks, his voice tainted with a little hesitation.

"Here? No. It's looks too rough out there." She gestures to the large waves that have been known to kill even professional surfers. "No, I'm just hot in the sun." She then stretches her arms up above her head, bending backwards just slightly as she does so. It feels good. Releasing the stretch, her arms come down and she swings them in, then out, stretching them more and getting the blood flowing. "Another time, another place?" She says, eyes peering into his open shirt, imagination filling in what she can't see for just a moment. Nope, she wouldn't mind that.

Nodding his head twice, Dusk squints his gaze westward towards the ocean and sun. "Good," he says offhandedly, "because I didn't bring a suit, and I think I'd get arrested, and that wouldn't be a good ending to a nice date." With that said, he looks down and over, first at her feet and then shins and knees. A sly smile slowly creeps on his lips at the damage still there. He gets buffed by flying hair as he lifts his gaze higher quickly, skipping all the other parts in between while settling on her face to see her reaction on his naming it, through the layers or his and her hair.

Smiling, Tavia nods, then laughs as he mentions being arrested. The last part catches her off guard, though the smile doesn't entirely fade. In fact, as she looks away the smile grows. She doesn't say anything for a good fifteen to twenty seconds, letting the moment linger. "It is nice." She finally says, then a coy expression crosses her features as she turns her eyes back to him. Stepping closer, she lifts a hand and would attempt to walk her fingers up his exposed chest. However, any semblance of an intimate moment is quickly dashed as she lifts her hand further and attempts to flick his nose, grinning mischeviously. "I wonder what dangerous inanimate object you'll save me from next time?"

Left precariously in the lurch for all of a third of a minute, Dusk's smile widens even larger when she agrees. He doesn't move away, either from the semblance of intimacy or the flick to his nose, perhaps because he trusts you, although the later catches him off-guard and causes him to twitch, then grin and winkle his nose. His hands move for your hips, and lightly balance there, "I don't know. You don't strike me as the kind of person that needs saving very often. I guess your misfortune was my fortune," he says over the crashing waves while seeking to maintain eye contact.

With Dusk's hands loosely entangling her within his personal space, she casually slides her hands up across his shoulders and entwines them behind his neck, bringing her closer still. How long has it been, anyway? She frowns. Too long since she's allowed herself this sort of closeness. Not that he needed to know that. He was about a foot taller than her, so she had to tilt her head back quite a bit to look up at him. "You'd be surprised, actually." She lets on, but her tone is mildly suggestive that it's a truth about herself that she didn't think fondly of. In fact, it seems to be getting the better of her. She starts to pull away. "You know what, maybe it's better if..." She searches for an excuse.

"If I don't kiss you here," Dusk finishes for her missing the attempt to find a reason not to do just that. But his light embrace doesn't change, he neither releases, nor does he pull in, and he gives voice as to why. "Look, Tavia. I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want to do." His right hand comes up from her left hip, and with his fore finger, he'll trace her bottom lip if he's allowed before he hand goes back to where it was, "But I know what I want to do." He leans down, as tall men do, and cants his head to his right. Unconsciously he licks his lips which also successfully gets him a taste of his own whipping hair. His voice drops, "Give yourself permission."

"It's not..." Tavia tries to say, but his actions distract her from the train of thought. Her brown eyes fix on his face as it draws nearer to her. Her hands slide from his shoulders and place themselves firmly against his chest, holding him at the distance he was. "It's not me I'm worried about." She finally gets out. Whew, that was difficult. "Didn't you just get out of a difficult relationship?" She says, maybe talking too quickly, revealing her hesitation as more than just that. Yet despite all this, she hadn't moved away further. Wait, she actually seems to be inching closer. "Or do you not care..." please don't care...

As he's halted, hands on his chest, Dusk does what one ought, and he stops. But that last move has to be hers. And when she finally expresses the cause for her concern, he can't help but smile a knowing smile. "That relationship. That ended a long time before I left it. I just had to," he pauses again, thinking of the right words, "find the right way to extricate myself from it and give myself distance that I needed to be me." He casts his head down, looking at her through his eyebrows, "Do you know what I mean? Does that help at all?"

Everything about how they stood, and the way he acted, the words he said... it made her ache for that feeling of belonging that she missed so much. But was it fair to him? He did make it pretty clear this is what he wanted. But he doesn't know everything he should know to make a smart choice. Her mind raced, her hesitation only holding out against her own desires for so long. She catches her breath, then moves in, rising up to place her lips against his, her hands sliding back up once more and tangling into his hair. Something about being alone in a new place gave her an extra edge of bravery. She didn't need to have all the answers right now. She just needed /this/. Her tongue parts their lips, seeking his own as she presses her body against him, wanting to feel his closeness and his embrace.

The question asked, the response awaited, and rather than words he gets something even better. Her lips muffle his surprised, but muted sound, over the crashing waves only loud enough for them. His reply is swift once he realizes he's getting what he wanted, what he asked for, and while his hands at her hips help to pull her in and keep her tight to him, his lips part when he first feels her tongue break his hungry kiss. His own slides further, tasting her as he tastes like plain hot dog, his hands begins to roam, his right moves down, around the hip and pauses ever so close to cupping her bottom, while his left rises to press against the small of her back. The contact, the feel of her skin, it causes him to moan into her mouth.

As the moment extended into moments, Tavia eventually broke away from the kiss, though she kept her forehead pressed against his, a hand cupping his neck as the other slides her fingers lightly down his exposed chest. She was breathing heavily, the excitement of the closeness elevating her endorphins and adrenaline.

        What the hell am I doing? 

"Dusk..." she says, testing his name. She closes her eyes, feeling his hands on her and wanting nothing more in the world than to just /stay/, she knows she needs to pump the brakes. "I should go. But... I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?" she asks, hopeful.,,