Sep 22 12:13:56 109 PA - Button Girl and Books

From Chronicles

Sep 22 12:13:56 109 PA.

YAKOV'S DELI

It is a slow Sunday, just after noon. The staff, is kind of lazily doing their chores as Rasputin reviews a list of figures and a stack of books. He is mutters to himself, as he drinks a bit of tea.

Outside, a large stretch Diplodicus pulls up near the deli in what looks like it might in some alternate universe serve as a proper parking space. Eight-liter engines aren't normally quiet, but this one is surprisingly so. Not that you wouldn't still notice it of course. Out steps Gabriel, in nice street clothes that don't entirely go along with the gloss-black paint scheme on the vehicle. People might recognize the large yellow spade symbols painted on the two front doors though, and the much smaller ones on the hood and on the back. He closes the door, ensures that it's latched and locked, then starts to make his way inside, whistling an old tune that likely no one would recognize.

Rasputin yawns as he continues to look over the papers, doesn't look up as someone enters the Deli. That happens often enough. The cute Anya at the counter smiles and waits for you to walk up to the counter to take your order. Rasputin says something in Russian, then and one of the pseu-chefs. brings over some more hot water for the tea pot.

Gabriel continues to whistle his way up to the counter. "Good morning," he says to the cute girl in his Kentucky drawl. "Any lunch specials today? It's my one day of the week off work." His eyes seek out Rasputin, but he doesn't raise his voice to call to him and break the mood.

Anya nods and smiles, "Yup, we have a fresh hot pastrami sandwich, with cup of beef stew." She smiles and her cheeks dimple, "With a drink of your choice, ya? Whatcha think?"

Rasputin, just keeps looking over the figures and facts. Doesn't look up, not even to pour himself more tea.

"Sounds just fine, thank you, miss," Gabriel responds with a smile. "If you have either milk or fresh juice, I'll have a glass with it." Again, he looks to Rasputin, but doesn't break the silence. "Things going well with the refugee magic down south?" Maybe the serving girl knows.

Anya shakes her head, "Da boss has been worried about it, but so far the Dregs have been fairly quiet actually. Well, save for the few gang attacks going on." She giggles, "But that is normal, right?" She smiles, "And we have orange juice, does that work?"

Gabriel smiles again. "Orange juice is fine, and yes, the 'Dregs do seem to be like that most of the time." After a moment of clearly inspecting the girl, he asks pleasantly, "How old are you, miss?"

She giggles, "18 of course. Razzy won't hire anyone too young," she grins and those dimples just won't stop. "Why do you ask?" She gets the order form the cools, and puts it on the counter, "Want me to take this somewhere for you?" She says with a small shimmy.

The older man smiles and laughs lightly. "You just remind my of my daughter Polina. She would be about eighteen now." With that, Gabriel reaches out to take the tray. "Thanks, but I think I can manage to find my way to a table. Maybe it'll give me an excuse to trip and get Rasputin's attention, huh?" *Wink*

Anya giggles and goes about her business, not paying any attention to either of you.

Rasputin, just sits there working, doing his best job at ignoring the rest of the world at the moment.

Gabriel resumes his whistling, and heads over toward the studying dwarf. Or perhaps accountant. His steps take him that direction anyhow, with the accompaniment of "Tuxedo Junction" to his bootsteps. Eventually, he'll reach the other man's table.

Rasputin finally looks up, as someone is approaching him. He grins and tugs his beard, "Hello Gabriel mink friend." He chuckles a bit, "So, you are in a good moods, why fors?"

With a shrug, and an uninvited plonking of his rear into a nearby seat, Gabriel states, "No reason not to be. It's Sunday, which means that as long as there aren't any emergencies, I'm off work. Time for other things. Of course, most of them keep me busy too, but I do my best not to frown." He nods his chin toward the books. "What've you got going today?"

Rasputin frowns and tugs his beard, "Accounts, just balancink da books." He shrugs a bit, "Been puttink dit off, for a while." He moves it all to the side, and of course there area few maps beneath it, "Dhough, dis what mink really wanttink to be reviewink, da." He chuckles and grins.

Gabriel's interest in maps is clearly piqued, as he pushes the tray aside quickly. "Oh? Whaddya have there? I actually have need of some maps."

Rasputin grins, "Da, da. Dwell dhey are maps from here to da Appalachian mountains. Dis where mink does dino huntink." He ponders a bit, "Why are you lookink for maps? Goink on da travesl?"

Gabriel shakes his head. "No, no. I need someone to work local - like, thirty miles from here - and survey some land for me. The city wants me to prove that no one else has a claim on it before I nail down my own stakes and call it my own. I know how to get around very well. Read maps, the stars, the terrain... but actually *making* maps?" He shakes his head. "A skill that I lost, and I have been finding it exceptionally difficult to learn. So.. do you make them? Or maybe know someone who does? Because the city is really pumping up the cost for a simple review. I can do the library stuff myself, even the flyovers. But I guess they aren't detailed enough."

Rasputin shakes his head, "Net, net. Mink purchased dese mink self." He shrugs a bit, "Mink net knowink who is makink maps, " he tugs his beard as he talks, "Da city? You buyink some lands dhen? For, uh, refugees? Or some business venture of some kinds?"

"Not buying, claiming. At least, as long as no one else already owns it, which I don't think they do." Gabriel waves his left arm to a distant north-northwest. "I found a good ten, maybe twelve square miles to settle the incoming refugees. Try to keep 'em out of the way of the Family and other troubles. Even the Coalition doesn't care - I've stayed there myself, and I've had a friend camping there for weeks. It has its own freshwater spring, plenty of land to work with... as long as the Tolkeenites follow orders, it could be a nice place." His thumb yanks south. "A lot better than the compound, which incidentally I'm not sure the residents there ever left."

Rasputin nods slowly, "Hmm, dough net in Kingsdale?" He shakes his head a bit, "Dhey aren't goink to try to enter da city? Not members of da city," He thinks a bit, "Mink, disn't good. How far away, 30 miles?" He shakes his head, "Still in patrol zone, by rangers da?"

"Yes, still within the patrol zone, which means that it's not technically Kingsdale territory, but close enough. Which ironically is why my name has to be on the deed. The Council's cowardly stance against simply accepting refugees means that they won't do it. So I get to put my head on the chopping block, as it were, for people I've never met," Gabriel says, though not with any malice. At least, not toward the refugees. "But I'll see if I can't find someone and get back to you later. Looks like one of those emergencies has come up after all." He points to a little blinking light on his communicator and starts to leave rather rudely and abruptly.