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[Jade rolls her eyes, searching the counter for a spare scrap of paper and pencil. Beginning classes are reassuring, they make her feel at least somewhat confident that she could take them, she could belong in a college classroom. It's weird to her how quickly something that had always been an abstract vision for her future that she was afraid would never happen can become a reality.]

Shut up. This is so, so cool. Look at all the classes they have!

Right, you could take English One or English Two. It's really a stunning variety. An outright menagerie. It's a miracle they fit it into one brochure.

[As sarcastic as he is, he's still smiling, glad to have pleased her in such a way. He does so as he sets aside a cup of espresso for himself, the caffeine to fight off any headaches he's prone to get.] You want a cup?

[She flips him off casually as she continues to leaf through the pamphlet. Sure, the variety could be better, but she's used to high school. She was told what classes she had to take there. She will not let anything dampen her excitement.]

There's a couple literature ones too. And, uh, sure. Thanks.

[Anyone else would be tempting a fit of rage to fly that finger at him, but he shrugs it off with Jade, the same way he does her foul language. He pulls out a cup for each of them.]

Literature, hmm? Is Jade Ellsworth the next Sherwood Anderson?

[She keeps flipping through the course catalog, swinging her feet against the counter as she searches for any courses that interest her. It's a sign of how at ease she is, that you can hear each time she comes in contact with the counter, a steady rhythm of thunks as proof that she's having no trouble keeping her solid form.]

Who's that?

An author. He sells pretty well. I hear he's alright, but I don't have much patience for books. [What exactly Jason does with his time off work seems to be a bit of a mystery even to him. Sleep. He sleeps a lot. And stares into space.] My father had a library of them, and what I say is he could have at least had the foresight to put a few manuals about business in there. Or at least a copy of The Union Single. It might have given him some useful ideas.

[Jade makes a face, scrunching up her nose, he confusion clear. How could Jason not like any books? It's a foreign concept to her. Reading and writing has always been an escape for her. One of her healthier ways of coping with her shitty life.]

Wait, wait. You seriously don't like books? None of them? Why not?

[Perhaps that's why Jade's managed to keep herself sane while Jason's never evolved past his stunted, miserable adolescence. He hasn't had escape. He hasn't allowed himself it.]

I don't have patience for fantasy. And that's what most of them are, aren't they? Fantasy or some author talking about themselves at length. If I want non-fiction I just read the paper or listen to talk radio.

[Jade jumps off the counter, shaking her head. She tucks the course catalog into her messenger bag that she has stowed under the counter, keeping it safe for later, as she continues her debate with Jason. It's nice that they're actually talking to each other again.]

Okay, but there's all different kinds of books. You don't have to like all of them, but there's gotta be some that you think are interesting. And who cares if it's not real? It's way better. If all I read back home was our local paper I'd go crazy.

[Jason twitches at the word crazy, the way he's been trying to dodge it all his life when both his brothers so easily invited it into their crumbling home.]

I care if it's not real. I don't want to waste my precious time on it if it's all just daydreams or concotions. Like I say, I read the paper, and I listen to radio and occasionally help myself to a dictionary when I want to learn something.

[Jade rolls her eyes as she begins to divide her attention between Jason and making sure all the pastries and other baked goods are ready for the morning guests. She shifts over a plate of blueberry muffins, making sure they're not blocking customers view of the lemon scones and croissants.]

But reality's usually so boring.

And you just have to live with that. [Sometimes it's better when it's boring. At least then it's predictable. Jason gets the proper change in the register and makes sure the creamers are set out (non-fat, whole milk, skim, even dairy-free - options he didn't know existed back in 1928).]

Of course, our reality now has us stealing souls and turning into beasts, so your mileage may vary on how boring that is. Although I reckon it makes sense that even that would get mundane after a while.

[Jade frowns slightly, realizing she has to admit that Jason has a point. Their lives right now are crazier and more intense than most books she's read. She imagines that if someone were to write it, audiences would think it was too unbelievable and yet, it's her life now.]

... I'm guessing you really don't like poetry and stuff.

[He shrugs. Poetry, like so many of the purviews of erudite, educated men, stirs a kernel of resentment in him. It reminds him of his father, locked away in the library with volumes of Homer and Ovid and a bottle of liquor they'd outlaw a decade too late, in Jason's opinion.

Or his brother, rotting now at the bottom of a river in Cambridge.]

If you can find me a poem that isn't some tedious mulling over mythological figures or the measure of a man's soul, it might be alright. But I wouldn't say I'm keen on it. Why, do you write it?

[Jade's silent for several long minutes, seemingly lost in the task at hand, though one wouldn't think stacking clean mugs would be such a thought intensive job.

She sets the last mug down with the smallest of nods and for a moment it's seems as if she'll stop there even if Jason hadn't noticed her confirmation. But she realizes, Jason probably wouldn't ask if he didn't care about her answer.]

... Yeah. Sometimes. Uh, nothing like, for other people to read or anything like that.

So just for yourself? What's the point of that? You could at least try to sell them and get some money back for the time wasted.

[Because to Jason anything that doesn't reveal an immediate profit is some sort of loss. Anything he can't fix a money value to falls into that terrifying nebulous uncertainty where possibly it doesn't matter, never mattered, was a waste of the time he's so eager to discount.]

[Jade reels back, seems to go even paler at just the mention of selling her writing. She barely lets other people know that she writes, she could never let people read it, and she could never, ever let someone pay for it.]

I don't wanna sell it. It's not a waste of time if I like writing. Don't you ever do something just because you like it?

I'd have to like something for that, wouldn't I?

[Which isn't a truthful assessment -- there are things he enjoys just for the hell of them. Tobacco, sports radio, sleep, playing the stock market (although he lost thirty dollars this week in sugar futures). And he engages regularly in those.]

Why so shy? Are you writing something scandalous?

[Jade rolls her eyes, seeing right through Jason's lies. There's things he's like, she knows there are.]

Dude, you like things. I can make a list if you don't believe me. And it's not scandalous, it's personal.

I'd like to see you try. [And he might even be a little perturbed if she could. It'd feel like somehow she was getting too close, or maybe the workplace were intruding too much on his personal life.]

You know, the instant you tell a manticore it's something personal, they want to find out. It's just something that happens, like shades floating through things or werewolves smelling like all of hell just belched up.

Ginger ale, your car, those boring radio shows, reading the newspaper, complaining about the future, talking to me... You want me to continue?

[Jade trails off with a smile, satisfied. She knows Jason well by now. She'd say they were friends even if she's not entirely sure he'd agree.]

Dude, I think being bothered by werewolves is another manticore thing. Besides, you've heard some of them before. When you're a cat.

I drink ginger ale because it settles my stomach, I read the newspaper to stay informed, I don't like complaining, the only reason I like talk radio is because music gives me a headache, and any man worth his salt appreciates a good car. [He doesn't refute he likes talking to her, nor is he that aggressive in his rebuke.]

You know I don't pay attention to anything anyone says when I'm a cat. You could confess you're robbing the store's ledger to the last penny and I'd just roll over and yawn.

[Jade doesn't quite manage to hide her smile. She doesn't miss that he doesn't have an argument against liking their morning conversations.]

Yeah, I know. Why do you think I read them to you only when you're a cat?

Why read them at all if your audience is going to care as much about them as about the nearest dust mote they can chase after?

[At least he can afford a sense of humor when it comes to his behavior as a cat. Because honestly. Cats are ridiculous.]

That's kinda the point. You can't say you hate them or say they freak you out if you're barely listening.

[Jason as a cat is the perfect audience, in Jade's mind. Seemingly attentive, yet really paying no attention at all.]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, JADED. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 005.04.008.13 * CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS has joined 005.04.008.13 <JADED> hey, you've reached Jade. <JADED> leave a message or whatever and i'll get back to you. <JADED>** God, I hope this shitty thing actually works.

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