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Log Title: Slushies and Yo-Yos.

Log setting: Bourbon Street, in the afternoon.

Log Cast:
Amy
Trace
Catherine

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Trace is seated on the curb of the street, sucking contentedly on one of those gigantic cherry cola flavored, turn-your-tongue-red-and-freeze-your-brain slushies, the kind with the bubble lid that you can pick up at any gas station or convenient mart. One hand propping up his chin, the other curled around the drink, he watches the crowd. Looking for someone, perhaps? But he doesn't seem very earnest or urgent as his hazel gaze rides the tide of pedestrians, so perhaps he's just in a thoughtful, observant mood.

Amy starts into a skip, but calms the impulse and returns to a tempered gait, weaving and side-stepping. Her dark eyes lock on Trace through that veil of messy hair - whether he notices this or not, does not seem to matter to her. She makes a crooked path toward him until she is at his side. "Hair boy," she murmurs, sitting beside him.

Catherine opens the door to the Raven and slowly comes walking out, head lowered somewhat, as she has her attention mostly on the yo-yo she is tossing up and down from her right hand. She almost bumps into someone who tries to enter, and she quickly steps to the side with a gigglish apology.

Catherine�s Desc:
A thick mane of strawberry blond hair, shiny and currently in messy waves, frames this young girl's face. A face that holds some semblance of angelic beauty with big brown doe-eyes, peaches and cream skin dotted with freckles and an infectious little mouth. Standing roughly about 5'8", she is fairly tall for her age, and a little on the lanky side judging from her clumsiness and skinny build. Her hands, though, are very pretty, with long slender fingers tipped off by nice nails. She has developed this distracted air about her, as if her mind is constantly on other things. A professional opinion might deem her a touch delusional at times with all of that nonsense she spouts off.

She is wearing a white t-shirt and blue zipper sweatshirt over it. A pair of tattered gray sweat pants, looking entirely too large for her, hang from her thin hips. On her feet are a pair of dirty Keds with ripped laces.

Slurp, slurrpp... Trace pulls hard on the straw, trying to get good syrupy slushie-liquid instead of just ice-mush. but it's not going so well. He lifts his brows at Amy, and lowers the straw from his lips and smiles with red teeth. "Hair boy? Yeah, kay, miss Cosmopolitan," he giggles, and reaches over to tug at one messy strand of Amy's own reddish-blonde hair.

Catherine grumbles a little, sidestepping having thrown the yo-yo in a wild spinn and she has to rewind it. The sudden loud slurp does catch her attention though, and she looks over towards Trace, a moment frowning, then noticing who is beside him, the worry on her face deepens. She steps back to the wall, and leans against it, yo-yo rewound, and starts to toss it again, but tries at the same time to overhear anything that might be said.

Amy winks at Trace and nudges her bony shoulder into his, though her height puts her shoulder above his, the effect is close enough. "Hey, I showered a couple days ago. You know, I hate to go home. There are some serious bad vibes happening there. Wolves and stuff." She nods authoritatively then grins a toothy girlish grin.

Trace looks fairly blank at that. "Wolves?" He shakes his head confusedly, and then grins a little and holds out the slushie for her to have a sip as he asks, "So.. what was with that one guy? I mean, is he like yer dad 'r somethin'? He didn't even letchya finish yer cheese fries. He didn' look happy t'see me with ya, neither." Oh sigh, ever the bad influence, Trace is.

Toss.. yank.. toss.. yank.. It seems Cathy is getting the hang of this yo-yo thing now, and she actually looks over to the other two sitting outside, while she manages to keep the yo-yo going. She smiles a little, after being bored to death inside the Raven, any good story will do, so she just looks curious over to the two talking... until she messes up again and has to disentangle a piece of string.

Trace flickers his gaze towards Catherine as he holds out the slushie for Amy, the movement of the toy she plays with having snagged his eye for a moment. He watches it, up, down, and grins with faint sympathy and amusement when she flubs it up.

Catherine starts to rewind the yo-yo, something she -really- has become practiced in the last couple of days, and while her hands almost automatically go through the routine, she looks over at the two once more, then grins sheepishly and shrugs, as she finds Trace looking. "I guess still lots more practice for me.."

[ Amy disconnects, and it�s said that she just wanders off at some point and Trace and Cathy keep talking. ]

Trace grins and stirs his straw about absently so that some of the ice-mush will melt and it will be more slurpible. "Better'n I could do. When I try'n yo-yo, it just keeps comin' back less'n less til' I hafta just wind it up again. Kinda pointless. Hey, 'kin ya do that one trick where it rolls on the ground and comes up, that dog walking trick thing?"

Catherine shakes her head quickly, and says with a shrug, "Steve can.. He's in my class, he's really good.. but I am almost sure I can learn it as well, it's just.. well, practice a lot.. I can make it spin sometime.. You know, when it's all the way down, remains spinning there and then when you give it a tug, it comes back up again.. I just don't know exactly how I do it.. it just happens sometimes, and I don't always make it come all the way back up again."

The blue-haired boy studies Catherine for a moment, taking a sip of his slushie, and then sets it down carefully at his feet. "So you're... that one guy's girl, huh. From that day at the Ren Fest." He purses his lips a little, and his hazel eyes are clear and calm, not unfriendly, just a little wary perhaps as he touches on a delicate subject.

Catherine tosses her yo-yo and it comes neatly back up, but she catches it and stops, a frown coming to her face, as she asks, "Huh? Uhmm.. who's girl am I supposed to be? The Ren Fest?" She shakes her head, and looks puzzled, then blinks suddenly and shakes her head even more quickly, "No way! I don't want to have anything to do with Rusty ever again.. I mean.. he acted all nice and stuff.. but.. Well, he just wasn't and I'm glad nothing ever happened.."

Trace's brow wrinkles with puzzlement. "Rusty? Who's Rusty?" He shakes his head a little, murmuring. "Naw, nevermind, I guess yer not, then. Nevermind. I jest thought.. you were one've the Sacred Heart crowd." He chews on his lip consideringly. "They don't like my friends. 'Cept Ryan. Pisses me off sometimes, because I mean, it's not like I didn't useta go to school 'r whatever too..." He shrugs and lugs himself up off the curb. "Not like ya did anythin' t'me. I'm just rantin' at nuthin, s'all."

Catherine looks completely lost now, as she asks, "Uhmm.. what.. is this about? Ohh.. wait.. the Ren Fair.. I was messing it up with that Beltaine things, but that was like.. more than a year ago.. Uhmm.. I was there only for a little while, and I know someone told me a story.." She suddenly smiles and says, "Ryan is great.. Uhmm.. and I don't have anything against you.. I just think it's stupid how some people hate school, but I'm not angry at people that don't go to school or anything.. I know Amy would love to go, but she just never got a chance, so I tried to help her.. But she doesn't seem to remember a lot nowadays.."

Trace smiles fondly. "I never hated school. I hated the crap, sure, like mean jocks and cliques, and I sucked at math and stuff, but.. school was the only place I could draw, n' write stuff, 'n not get in trouble fer it. My ma didn't like 'dreamy nonsense' like that."

Catherine ohhs, then sighs softly, "Yeah, well, I guess it's the other way around for me.. I mean, I do like school, don't get me wrong but.. Well, I only really get to draw when I am at home, school just never has time for it, except art class, but then you have to make exactly what they want you to.. It's more fun to draw the things you want yourself, though I'm still pretty bad. But I guess it's like with the yo-yo.. Just practice and it'll get better.."

Trace grins. "I never drew what they told me, 'less I felt like it." He shoves his thumbs into his pockets and scans the street before shifting his eyes back to you. "Mostly why I left home was to be able t'draw when I liked. 'N now I can. So even if things're hard sometimes, I won. See?"

Catherine smiles a little, and says softly, "Well, it must be pretty harsh to have to live out on your own because you didn't get to sometimes do the things you want.. But.. well, yeah, I guess in a way you're right.. You're really good at drawing, aren't you? Didn't you do that street chalk drawing, out on Jackson Square, a month or so ago? With a few others, that was?"

"Make me sound like a spoilt brat, why don'tchya..." Trace mumbles with a chuckle at the way you phrase the beginning of that. But he lights right up as you mention Jackson Square and his friends. "Yeah... yeah, that was us. My friends and I. Well, the drawin' part was just me'n Batiste, but Jason played the pipes, and his music weaves inta everythin', and makes it more... But right now we're stayin' at this guy's house, and we're drawin' a mural for him right on his walls... This one lil' cubby place, on the three walls there, and he's payin' us real good fer it."

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