Twittering the Sparrows
Roleplaying Log: Twittering the Sparrows
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Emery and Eddie meet over a game of Mah Jong. Things go fine until they don't.

Other Characters Referenced:
IC Date: December 02, 2018
IC Location: Chinatown, NYC
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 03 Dec 2018 21:02
Rating & Warnings: Language
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

Okay, so if you speak the language and you help unclog a sink? Sometimes you get a hook-up that others do not have. In fact, Emery enjoys the less touristy parts of Chinatown. Some street vendor with a few patio tables and foldup is where Emery can be found. He's dressed for an evening out, wearing a pair of dark jeans, docs, fitted black t-shirt and leather jacket. His hair tucked up into a dark green beanie as he's settled at a table, grinning as he slides a pile of cash towards himself and teasing something quietly in Chinese as they get up from the table where Mah Jong is being played. The smells of food, fried and stir fried, of all sorts of asian sources fill the air and he's thumbing the side of his nose before lighting a cigarette and letting it dangle between his lips as he waves farewell to his partner for the evening.

*

From the next door store front that's nothing but a sliver, some heated cursing in Mandarin can be heard. For those familiar with the language, it's a debate over the price of some herbs that's now spilling out onto the the sidewalk. The shopkeeper, a weathered grey haired woman steps out on the stoop, shaking her apron and saying it was the same price as last week, while a dark haired woman argues back that it's nearly doubled.

Eddie, dressed almost the mirror of Emery save she has a black beanie and a blue band t-shirt on, is giving as good as she gets, but the transaction must be complete because she's holding a small parcel in her gloved hand.

*

Emery purses his lips thoughtfully, exhaling a stream of smoke as he rests an elbow against the table, cigarette held loosely between two finger. The Irishman tilts his head to the side as he sets the tiles back up again and then tilts back in his chair to call out in Mandarin to the street vendor, requesting two beers and some type of egg roll. He keeps an eye on the exchange though.

*

Suddenly the heated debate breaks with laughter, Eddie kissing the package and thanking the lady with promise (or need depending on the translation) to return next week. Whatever the herb is, it gets shaken down into the bottom of the packet and the top is ripped open as she moves next door. "Hot water, please." She orders blindly, likewise distracted as she drops into the chair opposite Emery.

*

One of those beers gets pushed across the table along with a pack of cigarettes with an old fashioned siilver zippo resting on top of it. Emery doesn't speak though, he just takes another drag off of his cigarette, turning his head aside respectfully to exhale and nod slowly. He nods towards the tiles with a hint of a smirk. "Do ye play?" Curious head tilt.

*

A waif of a boy sets down a handless clay mug in front of Eddie, and the split of focus of that and Emery asking her a question causes her face to scrunch up. "What?" She asks of the latter, blinking her eyes back open as if the act pains her and she's seeing him for the first time. "If you're expecting someone, tell them to sod off. I need the chair." She grumbles and then takes a pinch of the herb and drops it into the water, making her own tea.

*

"Tell them to sod off? I tink it would be a wee bit rude of me to ask ye to get up and leave after ye just got here wouldn't it?" Emery drawls softly, his country of Irish coloring his words and adding the natural lilt as he bites is bottom lip and chuckles softly. His dark gaze gives his new companion a once over and he shrugs a shoulder before taking a swig of his beer. Then he's going back to stacking tiles and organizing them on the table.

*

"So you were just waiting for me, were you, you little leprechaun?" Eddie tucks away the packet and replaces it with a stainless steel straw that she drops in her tea. Maybe she's socially conscious of plastic straws and the ocean or something.
Eddie is one of those people that is a casting manager's dream. She could pass for a handful of nationalities from Spanish to Asian, American Indian or your standard white girl in a pinch. The way she sorts tiles though, means she at least spends a little bit of time around Chinatown. "Did you touch any of the other cigarettes in the pack?" She says of the offering that's tantalizingly within reach.

*

There is a small smirk with a hint of his dimples peeking out as the reference as he quirks an eyebrow and flicks a bit of ash to the side. "Apparently. I don't always know who I'm waitin' for but I'm rarely disappointed when I see who it happens to be." Emery nods towards the pack of cigarettes. "I didn't 'ave time to hand roll any today, so sadly they are pre-packed factory made. I only draw what I'm about to use."

The Irishman has his racial ambiguity more on the hispanic/romani side of things but the accent betrays him every time as he murmurs his quiet thanks to the person who returns with the plate of hot egg rolls and he nods towards the table and blows a kiss to the young woman before looking back to the table.

*

"Oh. You're one of those." Eddie mutters in English as she takes her first sip of the 'tea' which is far too hot judging by the look on her face, but she was willing to chance it. Eddie has a faint British accent, but it's one of those things that comes and goes when she's not paying astute attention to it. As she settles back to eye Emery properly, his pack of cigarettes comes with her. She looks at the contents warily, then shakes one out and nabs it with her gloved fingers.

*

"That's a rather vague accusation innit?". Emery gaze flicks from the cup of tea, to Eddie's gloved hands and then down to the titles as he shrugs a shoulder and selects his tiles, starting to deal out the tiles as expected and then offering the dice to Eddie with a soft tsking sound.

*

The cigarette dangles from Eddie's lips, unlit for the moment as she plucks the dice from Emery's hand. Even though she's gloved, she still takes extra pains to touch him as little as possible during the exchange. "The sort that flirts with anything breathing. And breathing might not be a deal breaker." As she talks the cancer stick dances between her lips, making her words need to be formed around them in a half mutter. She starts the game without mincing any more words.

*

Emery mmhms softly as he eyes the lay out and his hands go through the familiar motions of the game. He takes another swig of beer and adjusts himself in his chair. He takes a deep breath and chuckles out a huff of smoke. "Eh, everybody deserves a bit of affection. Special attention to know that at least in that moment, somebody is thinkin' of them." Swig of beer, selection of tiles, slide of tile wall, so on. Rhythmic.

*

"And I'm sure that accent works wonders to drop the panties too. Makes a girl think of wind swept moors and high cliffs at sunset." Eddie falls easily into the game, only remembering to light her cigarette after the first few exchanges. "Other girls, I mean." She finally smirks for the first time since sitting down with Emery, a faint thing that disappears just as quickly as it was formed. If he was paying attention to his tiles, it might be completely missed.

"I'm only amusing myself with you until my headache eases off." She props an elbow on the table and her forehead gets deposited in a web of fingers while she smokes and waits for her turn again.

*

Another rough chuckle is drawn from the Irishman as his eyebrows raise, fingers pluck another tile and slide it into place as he just shrugs a shoulder. "Girls, aye. It's the dimples that get me a few pairs of boxers here and there." Emery drawls wryly, studying her features thoughtfully. "Its a curse luv, bein' this good lookin' and charming."

He nods shortly though, flashing a grin and letting his dimples peek out for a moment as he takes another swig of beer. "Duly noted."

*

"I believe it." Eddie responds of the boxers and the curse alike, but doesn't commiserate. "If there suddenly is a rash of people tripping on the undergarments around their ankles, I'll know who's at the epicenter."

She clicks another tile onto the table before she comments. "I can't drink that, if you meant it for your next ivory partner. Looks like you're double fisting it tonight, Irish." Her eyes cast down to the beer in indication.

*

"Somethin' I'd gladly take responsibility for." Emery doesn't comment on the beer save to drag the second one closer to the first one and just give a small chin-up and a fake expression of being put upon. "Alas, two beers instead of one…how will I ever manage?" A quick shake of his head as he lines some more tiles up and pushes another out. "At least ye know how to play the game. Yes, you're a stunner and your wit is as sharp as your cheekbones but you know your way around the tiles. So. Beer or no beer, you're good company."

*

"I'll have to put that on my next business card: come for the smartassery, stay for the Mah Jong." Eddie doesn't comment on the possibility of being good looking, dismissing the notion perhaps with the snort of a little huff of smoke out of her nose before sipping on her tea again. "Glad…" She lays down a Pung, "To be of service." The tosses a tile into the wall and then leans back in her chair, ashing her cigarette off to the side. "Though I don't think I've ever been accused of it before."

*

There is a lot someone can learn from watching someone play Mah Jong, and Emery's gaze is deceptively casual as he watches the movement of tiles and the various plays. His own style is however as casual as his slouch in his chair as he drops the cigarette he was smoking down on the ground and crushes it beneath a heel. First beer is finished with a few long pulls before he's setting it aside and wrapping a hand around the second. "You come down here often?"

*

"Wow. Now that was a line. If the next thing out of your mouth is to ask if it hurt when I fell from Heaven, I might have to upend the table." Eddie plays the tiles like an old hat, but she doesn't seem particularly competitive or even really invested in the game. It's just something to keep her hands busy but it's clear she has a sharp enough mind to strategize. "The Huang's shop? Never been here before." The lie comes easily if not terribly convincingly.

*

"Oh please luv, if it was a line I would've said 'Come here often?' and leaned in real suggestive like. Maybe make eye contact eh? But I meant down here, Chinatown.The real bits, not the touristy bullshite. But here, with the mah jong games and smaller vendors." Emery then is busy breaking a egg roll in half and inhaling its fragrance deeply before glancing over to Eddie at the comment, but doesn't press. "Well, its a good shop. So. You'll hopefully be happy with their product." Then he's making short yet almost dainty work of that egg roll.

*

"Funny, most men look at the tits not the eyes." Eddie takes the last drag off her cigarette, flicking it deftly into a puddle for it too sizzle out of existence. For someone wearing gloves, her movements seem accustomed to the extra layer of fabric, not fumbling or thick fingered as one would be when donning them for winter apparel. "I tend to avoid touristy areas for one reason: tourists. The press of bodies with their camera phones constantly to their faces, paying twice as much for the same shit you could get two blocks over by the case. But if you come here often enough, you know that yourself. And the fact you ordered your food in flawless Mandarin, means you already knew the answer to your question before you asked it. Which means you were testing me. Which means our game is over." Her hand that was smoking the cigarette is now suspiciously lingering beneath the lip of the table.

*

Buh-Link. Emery tilts his head to the side curiously before taking a swig of his beer. A white handkerchief has been tugged out of a pocket and draped over his thigh. It is there he wipes his fingers off before enjoying another egg roll as the woman speaks. "Of course I know why teh feck /I'm/ here. I was askin' about youself. Jaysus woman. Its called small talk. Being polite. I don't know you from a bump on a log but you're far more interesting. I'm off work. I've no desire to test anybody for anyting right now. Ye can stand down." Another swig of beer and slow shake of his head, but he seems more bemused than offended.

*

Emery might be bemused, but Eddie is now a wound up coil. "Just stay sitting, Irish, and twitter the sparrows for your next mark." She chucks her head down at the game without really taking her eyes off the man. "I'd hate to have to slice your gullet at the table, that's a terrible waste of an egg roll." She shifts slowly in her seat, reaching over blindly to pluck her straw from the cup and tuck it back into her inner pocket with her left hand still beneath the table.

*

A casual glance towards the table where the left hand has not made a reappearance and he just looks back to Eddie with a quirk of an eyebrow. "This feckin' generation. God almighty." Emery rolls his eyes as if asking the lord above for strength, looking up at the sky and then back to Eddie with a soft tsk. "Ye dun get to tell me what to do just because you 'ave issues lass. Ye dun get to put your paranoia and your history on me shoulders because the ones that made ye like this aren't around to bear it." He flips over his hand and the tiles make a pretty clack sound before wiping his fingers off carefully the cloth. "Ye can take your threats and shove them firmly up your own arse where it appears your head seems to be. Which is fine, I get it. Needin' to protect yourself but I haven't the time or desire to deal with that shite right now. I'm just lookin' for company and a decent games." Another calm sip of his beer.

*

There is the soft click of where a switchblade gets folded back up on her thigh, and Eddie is standing. "My ass is the one thing you haven't complimented yet. But at least you think it's firm." There is a delicate shrug of her shoulders as she twists his words to suit her. "Slainte, Irish. Here's hoping your next partner isn't a paranoid narcissist." She shoots him a quick wink and backs up from the table a few paces before she turns to head off down the street.

*

There is a flicker of amusement in the Irishman's eyes as he hears the switch blade click, a familiar sound and he just bows his head politely to the woman. Emery's nose wrinkles a bit as he regards her thoughtfully and he lifts his beer in a salute. "May you find the peace that ye need, and win the fight that you're expecting ma'am." Then he's reorganizing and resetting the table, before leaning back and slipping a cigarette free to place between his lips with a shake of his head. He's getting too old for this.

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