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Log Title: Girl for the Evening

Log setting: This takes place perhaps fifteen minutes after the log Monster in Jackson Square.

Log Cast:
Catherine
Trace

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Catherine is slowly pacing around the hole, keeping a couple of feet away from it, as she circles and tries to spy down the hole. After TooFar got out, she hasn't heard anything else yet, and she's starting to get more and more worried.

And here comes Trace, not only tragically too late to have gleaned a single clue as to what was with that whole monster business to begin with, but he couldn't find any help. Utter failure. He comes panting up to Catherine and shoves dampened braids out of his eyes, rasping out softly, "M'sorry, I... I couldn' find nobody. I looked... I jest.." He spreads his hands a little, helplessly. He tried his best, but still feels bad about it.

Catherine quickly turns around as she hears someone walks up to her, and she looks really relieved to see Trace there, even if he says he couldn't find help. She shakes her head and says, "TooFar came out of there, and he seemed to be okay, but I still haven't seen the others, and there were gunshots down there.." She takes his hand and holds it, finding some comfort in it.

Trace takes a nervous step closer to the hole, peering down with trepidation. Then he steps back, turning to face you and sweeping up your other hand and squeezing both gently. "Is it gone, you think?" A glance back to the hole, then to your eyes. "It sounds quiet."

Catherine gives a light squeeze into the other hand as well, and she steps a little closer to you, as you move towards the hole, to look down as well. She nods slowly, and says, "Yeah, I.. guess so.. It's been really quiet, ever since Meilyan went down there.. I just.. I hope they got it, before it got them. But your friend didn't seem too worried.. so I hope it's okay.."

"That one girl went down..?" Huh. Trace peers towards the hole one last time before shuddering and averting his eyes from it. "Nothin' to do but find TooFar later an' make him tell what happened, I guess." Yeah, that's such an easy task. Lets feed his jacket to a mulcher while we're at it. Piece of cake. "But I f'sure ain't gonna go down there and poke around to make sure it's dead." In fact, let's not even stand this close to it. Trace tugs gently at your hands, taking a step in retreat, though it's all hesitant just in case for some odd reason Cathy wants to stick around.

Catherine nods again, and says, "Uhmm.. police should be here any minute now anyway.. I called them, and told them what happened.. Well, actually, I told them some people fell down the sewer, and they would be sending help.." She doesn't really mind retreating anymore, giving the hole one last glance, and then turning her back to it, and looking back to Trace, she asks, "Uhmm.. Let's go somewhere else.."

"Good idea," Trace grins, because really it's a fabulous plan. Stick around to watch the clawmonster resurrect? No thanks. And besides, "I kinda doan' wanna be here when cops show up. They might wanna ask me questions, an' I can't let 'em coz they'll find out I gotta missing persons report or somethin' an they'll try to send me home. My ma wants me back." And apparantly this is a bad thing, by his expression, which has grown a bit more grim as he speaks of the possibility of being sent home.

Catherine shakes her head and smiles just a little now, "Yeah, I don't exactly feel like explaining to the police that there's a monster down there with sharp tentacles and stuff.. Let them think that it's just a couple of people that fell down. I told them about the gunshots, so they should be warned to be careful.. Besides, they have my name at 911, so they can call me if they need me." She doesn't let go of Trace's hands, as she retreats with him, and says softly, "I wouldn't want you to leave this city either.."

"It'd be totally weird to explain, yeah," Trace agrees, now turning his steps fully away from the hole and padding back out through the square with you. "People have a lot better'a time with jest' psychos and big guns inna sewer. They doan' wanna here about big hissing clicking monsters with yellow claws. Some stuff's jest easier t'let yer mind believe..." He rolls his shoulders in a shrug. His hand still holds yours, lightly now, like he's shy with the contact but trying to accustom himself. "Well, at least yer night as my girl had some excitement, right? God." He laughs softly and looks over at you. "Guess it ain't over. You wanna go somewhere?" He's pretty much cool with anywhere that falls into that 'Not Here' catagory.

Catherine wrinkles her nose a little and says, "Yeah, tell me about it.. If anything, people just want to hear that everything is safe and the scary monster under the bed is just a pile of old clothes." ,then adds with a smirk, "Too bad it's the psychos with the big guns that want that the most.." She shakes her head, and mutters, "Ahh, never mind. I'm sure they'll say everything's alright soon, and yeah, let's just go somewhere.. Uhmm.. you were talking about a cafe of some sort?"

"More a coffee house," Trace admits, "But ya doan' drink coffee. Even so, I bet they make some good hot chocolate. I'd be all fer that if you wanted, I s'pose." He grins a little, glancing over. How odd that they could have an incident like that bit with the monsters and then continue on with their original plans. Done with monsters for the day, onto the coffeeshop! "It's one'a them places with all the comfortable couches and the always a goth kid spoutin' mediocre poetry inna corner. Comfortable, y'know? An' relaxin'd be good afta tonight's madness I think."

Catherine smiles again at the prospect of a good cup of hot chocolate. New Orleans might be hot and moist all the time, but waiting at the edge of a hole with weird monsters down there sure gave her the chills. "That sounds really good.. Yeah, let's go there.. I mean.. I think I could use some comfortable couch to lie down on, and with a good cocoa, I think I'll even be able to stand bad poetry.."

Trace chuckles. "Well, it ain't *bad*, it's jest... I dunno. It's all card-board cut out love, or cheesy gloom and doom. Gotta rhyme 'death' with 'last breath' in every other one. I seen better, anyway. I like poetry, I jest seen a lotta uninspired stuff in there. Y'get the occasional gem, though." He grins. "You ever write poetry?" The boy reaches up with his free hand to readjust the strap of his canvas bag, the other remaining in yours.

Catherine giggles softly, perhaps the idea of talking about poetry has eased a little of the tension away, and she shakes her head slowly, "Well, I thought there was lots of other stuff to write poetry about.. I mean, okay, love is probably the favorite subject, but you could write something about.. well.. about everything. Sunsets are probably overdone as well, but a walk in a forest would deserve some poetry I think.." She smiles and says softly, "Well, I never really have.. Just the things you sometimes do for school, but nothing serious or anything."

Trace chuckles. "I only write poetry when it's really important, I guess. Like I wanna portray somethin' to somebody without words, but I don't think a picture'd do it. It's jest really hard for me, though... It comes out okay in the end and all, but it takes me a while, pourin' over the words, an' then worryin' over it some more, and it jest takes courage." He grins down at the span of sidewalk ahead of him, leaving Jackson Square behind, and admits sheepishly, "But yeah, my school poetry mostly sucked." He stops then and looks over at you. "Wanna talk to you about somethin.."

Thinking back of school poetry, Cathy smiles and says, "Well, school poetry is something you force out of yourself because you need to finish some assignment, but the real poetry is something you say and do because you feel that way, because it's something deep inside you that gets stirred up, and that you want to talk to people about, to tell them about. Though the most scary part is to show it to someone, because it's also that which is deep inside you.." She looks back over her shoulder, as they leave the square, just in time it seems, as there are police officers arriving at the scene, and she looks a little surprised up at you, as you stop her, and she stands there in front of you, looking up.

Trace looks at you a slightly embarrassed smile; it's clearly something difficult to speak about. "I... can't go to school," he says finally. "F'the same reasons I can't see cops. They'd want medical records and guardians and shit before I could enroll. It wouldn't be good. My ma could find me then. And it's jest... I was kinda, well. Counting on Ben to help me." He has to blink a little. Something caught in his eyes, that's it. "He was gonna.. teach me more about books and stuff, and the world. I was jest wonderin' if maybe sometime we could talk some about the stuff you do in school, like if you could help me look over yer books sometime. I wanna learn, but it's like all my options is closin' f'me, you know?" He sighs and shakes his head a little. "You don't gotta say yes. I mean, I know how that'd suck f'you maybe, bein' in school all day an' then havin' t'come home and go over MORE school stuff."

Catherine looks a little surprised, and as she hears you talk about Ben and blink, she gives your hand a light squeeze, as if to say things are going to be okay. Finally she smiles, and she shakes her head as she looks up at you, saying softly, "I wouldn't mind at all, to do a little more school stuff.. Yeah, I think it's really great that you'd want to learn.. Uhmm.. We'd have to figure out where to pick up things, but I still have a lot of my schoolbooks. I gave some of my older ones to Amy, but.. well, I could tell you all about what I learned in school that day, and you could look into my books with me. And if you want, I think I could get you a library card as well.." She looks a little pensive for a moment, then nods quickly and smiles, "Yeah, I can arrange that."

Trace just lights up as you mention you're going to find a way to get him a library card. It's another one of those things he can't do, because it's another way They can track you, and they ask for all that personal information.. Just not a good situation. "I useta think about takin' books from the library, jest like stuff 'em in my bag and walk out. I'd bring 'em back 'course, jest like anybody else usin' the library, but people'd still call it stealin I figgered and I could get in big trouble." You know, Big Trouble. "You really think you could get me one, without me fillin' out no forms or nothin..? Think it'd work if I said I was yer big brother an' jest used yer address an' stuff?" It's funny, the way he talks about this... All conspiritorial and secret, like you're getting him a fake ID or something. But you know how much more worthwhile this is than a fake ID?Because he's got one of those, and it's not doing him a bit of good. But a *library* card...

Catherine nods quickly and grins, "Yeah, I'll have to check out a little just what they all need to know and are going to ask about, but I can either get a card in my dad's name, if they need to check out info about New Orleans residents, or if they'll accept it, I can just say you're my big brother, and get you a card that way. It shouldn't be too hard.. and I know what you mean.. I mean, even if you bring back the books.. taking them without asking.. even if you borrow.. it just doesn't feel right." She smiles brightly as she looks back up at you, into your eyes, as if she's seeing more and more in there that was hidden before, and she says softly, "I'm really glad you're not one of those I-just-hate-school people I keep talking to. I mean, learning things can be boring, but it can be really great as well.."

"I've always thought so," Trace admits shyly, looking down. "I mean, there's so many times I seen parts'a my life played back at me in books. Partsa *myself*, y'know..? Well, that's what I miss most, I think. The stories.. English,I loved English class. Math I weren't so good at. But I figger once I'm right nuff fer diplomas t'matter I kin' get me one'a them fancypants calculators and zip right through that boring math stuff, right?" He grins broadly.

Catherine smiles and looks away for a moment, a somewhat distant look on her face as she says, "I always get really lost in a book.. I mean.. completely submerged, and then it's like the book is everything and everything around me just disappears and only the book is real.. It's great when that happens.." As she looks back up into your eyes, she giggles, "Well, you should learn a little math, and there's a couple of tricks to make things easier. Calculators are fun, but sometimes it's good to be able to do things in your mind as well.. But I could help you out with that as well, and you would just need like the normal day stuff, right? Unless you plan to learn all about physics."

"No please, girl, physics." Trace giggles. "Physics kills wildman." He tries a solemn grin but spoils it with his smile. "Honest. Kills us dead. We can jest barely handle the every day math, but y'know, we squint our eyes up hard and get through it and tell ourself English is jest next period and how much nicer that'll be." He laughs, looking over. Rather oblivious to the people and the streetsign s around him actually. He might have even passed the proper street by now, who knows.

Catherine giggles, "Well, physics can be fun, in an odd sort of way. I mean, if you look at it the right way, it's almost a form of poetry, but it's also a lot of boring calculations.." She smiles each time she looks back up to you, and says finally, "Yeah, we'll do just a bit of math, and then spend time with English, I think that would be best.. And I could get you books to read. It's not exactly literature, but it's still pretty good, and I enjoy reading them. I only have fantasy novels, well, apart from my schoolbooks that is. And some of them are actually accepted as literature."

Fantasy books? Is that what you said? Trace's brows lift a little with interest and he gets a little grin. "Back home, I had a shelf of my dad's old books.. And I read every book on that shelf. But it was mostly classics. Y'know, good stuff, but still..." He tips his head to one side a little. "And the only other books I got was from school. Our library there was small, an' mosta the books like fifty years old.. And the next time I got my hands on books was Ben's." And Ben's not the swords and sorcery type, one would assume. "Could I really borrow one'a yer fantasy books sometime? I'd really, really like that." He seems quite intrigued by the idea.

Catherine 's eyes widen a little, and she smiles brightly, "Wow, fifty year old books? You mean, like.. real books, with leather bindings and all, not just those glued together paperbacks?" She giggles, "I mean, perhaps it sounds silly, but I really like real books, it's something.. well, special.." She nods quickly, and smiles, "Yeah, sure, you could borrow them anytime, I have loads of them. I usually spend half my money on books, and I got a lot of them as presents and all. Just drop by sometime and take a look, and pick one out. I might even have some books that I have twice, that you could have.."

Trace flushes a little around the grin and shrugs his shoulders lightly, "Well, I dunno if they was REALLY fifty years old, but yeah, there was some old musty ones, alright. I went through a buncha them. My dad's were all hardback mostly. Nice ones. I really wish I'd thought to take them books with me when I left home. But I guess that woulda gotten real heavy and impractical, luggin' a buncha books around." Alas. His eyes grow a little larger as you suggest not just letting him borrow them, but actually *giving* him books. "I." He blushes more, but his grin stretches wider. "That's so wonderful of you, Cathy. That's.." He shakes his head a little, at a loss. "Gotta make su re you got doubles," he insists softly.

Catherine smiles warmly and she says softly, "Yeah, I'm sure they are doubles.. And I you can always borrow the others. There's some so so ones, but there's also a lot of great books, and I'd love to point some out. Though you really should find out for yourself what you like best.." She shakes her head and says softly, "I don't think you'd have liked taking those books in the end.. I mean, it would have been stealing.." She smiles up at you, and says softly, "I'll just have to find you a real book for your birthday sometime, or something.. Is that anytime soon?"

"Naw, sorry," Trace shakes his head a little. "My birthday's in August. Kinda a ways off." He grins and suggests cheerfully, "We'll just hafta find some other obscure holiday to celebrate, I guess. Y'know, I hear there's this one comin' up... S'called 'Give Trace Books' day." He looks over and giggles. "Swear t'god. It's a very respectable holiday." He squeezes at your fingers, expression playful.

Epilogue: The two continue on to the coffeeshop and share a much more peaceful and relaxed evening than one would expect after monster encounters.

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