11680/Roses are Red. Violets are Blue.

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Roses are Red. Violets are Blue.
Date of Scene: 26 June 2020
Location: Student Gardens, Xavier's School
Synopsis: Jeremy and Shannon hang out in the gardens. He tells her the big secret. He's still awkward around girls.
Cast of Characters: Nightingale, SpyderByte




Nightingale has posed:
     It's mid-afternoon, and there's finally been a bit of a break in the oppressive heat that had turned much of the region into a sauna for the past few days. Still, most students were either out by the lake, swimming, wandering the trails through the woods around the property, inside their dorms, or exploring nearby towns in air-conditioned comfort.

     Not Shannon.

     She's chosen the student gardens as her haunt that afternoon. Wearing her black leggings, long black t-shirt, and a pair of daisy-toe flip flops, she's crouched down near a patch of a delicate, daisy-like herb. Her hair is all pulled back in a ponytail except for the little blue braid at the left side of her face, with its three small silver beads on the end. There is a small basket on the ground next to her. The herb in front of her rustles softly, punctuated with a few soft, metallic snipping sounds, as she harvests some of the blossoms. Really, the plant was doing very well, and looked almost to be taking over its section of the garden. She hums a light, unfamiliar melody as she works, at peace for the moment.

SpyderByte has posed:
Having thought this was a short cut of sorts, Jeremy has got himself a bit lost. That's alright, he is a human GPS when connected to his phone and thus he's finally found his way back on course towards the mansion. He went out for a walk. Just something to get his head on straight after this morning. As always, he is dressed in a full black ensemble and sweating heavily beneath his large oversized hoodie. For a change, he doesn't have his laptop with him and he's going through only 'mild' withdrawls.

As he spies Shannon in the distance, he makes his way over on his worn sneakers quietly. He gives a light clear of his throat to gain her attention, as opposed to calling out. There is no need to stutter through a hello and salutations. Pulling his hoodie back to reveal his face, his black hair is plastered in sweat along his brow.

Nightingale has posed:
     Craning her neck to glance behind her, Shannon straightens up a bit and smiles. "Jeremy! Hi!" It's difficult for her to hide her concern for him as she sees the way his hair clings to his forehead. But she'd made an offer to stitch something a little lighter weight with long sleeves and a hood for the warmer months. He'd accept it or not, in his own time. Only a few strands from her bangs cling to her face, as while she is wearing black, the fabric is of lighter weight--and no hood. "A little surprised to see you out here... how are you?"

SpyderByte has posed:
"I-I-I a-am okay. J-juh-sst ow-owt foh' a walk." Jeremy says as he stops before her. He looks uncomfortable in the heat, but he puts on a smile for her none the less. Anyone would be uncomfortable wearing all heavy black clothing complete with chains dangling off the legs. His dark eyes glance down towards the gardening curiously as he takes in the different types of plants. "You? G-g-gar-gardening?"

Nightingale has posed:
     "A little bit. It's peaceful." Shannon gestures with her small scissors to the plant in front of her, and smiles. "This one's chamomile. Real pretty plant, and it makes a tea that's very good for settling a sour stomach, and helping with sleep." Picking up one of the blossoms she'd just harvested from her basket, she offers it on the palm of her hand to Jeremy. "It has a really nice smell to it. Kind of light, almost like apples."

SpyderByte has posed:
Reaching out to take the flower from her, Jeremy's sleeve pulls up to show a nasty, older scar along his wrist. He lifts it up to take a sniff from it, then rolls his eyes upwards, pretending to sway back and forth as if he just got knocked out by the sleeping effects. Chuckling, he tucks it into the pocket of his hoodie. "Sm-ssmeells nice." Easing himself down to his knees in the grass next to her, he shifts a bit so not to get himself too dirty. "Got p-plans l-later?" He asks curiously as he reaches for his phone, searching through his powers to see if she has hers on.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon just shakes her head, laughing as Jeremy goes through his 'Prince Valium' act. But her laughter fades as she sees the scar, though she somehow manages to keep her smile--mostly. The scar's location had several thoughts running through her mind, none of which were good. "I hadn't made plans," she begins, a wee bit cautious. "I... got jumped day before yesterday in Salem Center, outside the burger joint. Got lucky, a normal human stepped in and got me out of there. But... I think I'll be sticking close to the mansion for a few days all the same."

     As always, she had her little brown bag with her, and sure enough, within could be felt her phone's tell-tale signal. "Besides," she adds. "It's kind of nice just being out here, too."

SpyderByte has posed:
There is a visible frown upon Jeremy's face as he hears that she got jumped. His head tilts to one side as he takes his phone out, then focuses upon it as he pulls up the camera feeds in the local area. "Wh-wh-what day and t-t-time?" He asks her in regards to the attack. "D-did t-they hu-rr-hurrt you?" He says as he glances up at her with concern now as he blows the black hair away from his face, despite it being a sticky mess. Perhaps, feeling a tad guilty, he quietly reaches out to her phone with his powers.

<< Hello beautiful, can you please give me access to your location settings? You can? Thank you so much. I need you to tell me where and when Shannon was in Salem the other day near the burger joint. Can you do that for me? Pretty please? It would make me most happy. >>

As he speaks to her device, he just watches her with that concerned manner upon his face, blinking slowly as he clutches his phone harder.

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon shakes her head. "No, I wasn't hurt. In point of fact, I actually managed to hip-check my first attacker to the ground before things got ugly." She shivers a little bit, and shrugs. "At least there was help. Kind of gives me hope that one day normal humans and mutants can learn to live together." She turns to snip a few more blossoms from the chamomile plant before standing, brushing off her leggings and picking up her basket. "Hmmm. Late afternoon, early evening I think, about two days ago. I'd just gone outside the burger joint and was opening my wings up to fly home. There was an anti-mutant rally not far off. They saw the wings and... ugh. How can people be such bigots sometimes?"

     Within her little leather bag, her phone woke up from its slumber. Its 'voice' was delicate, almost flute-like in its timbre, with the tinkling of little windchimes sprinkled throughout.

     <<Of course. It was approximately 4:30 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time, in Salem Center, New York, outside the Burger Joint. Is this the information you require? You are a kind one.>>

SpyderByte has posed:
As the information appears on his phone in front of him, Jeremy takes a subtle glance downwards at it. His thumb brushes the volume button to hit mute, then launches the video of the attack up once he focuses on the date and time. As he watches it, he keeps the screen tilted towards him.

"I-I d-don't know wuh-why p-pee-people are sss-so muh-mean." He says quietly. As he blinks a few times, the video zooms in tighter to catch the man's face, then saves it. A new screen pops up as the video begins to rewind so that he can track the path that the man came from. He will zero in on every camera possible to try and tag the man's vehicle if he drove up in one. He will also snag a license plate if need be.

"I-I'm s-sssorry th-that you got attacked."

Nightingale has posed:
     As the local security cam footage of the attack plays across the screen of Jeremy's phone, there is no vehicle in evidence that looks as if it could belong to Shannon's attacker. She's seen coming out of the Burger Joint, and not bothering anybody. Nearby is a small group of anti-mutant protesters, shouting slogans and handing out pamphlets. Some kids driving by give the group the universal salute, much to their credit.

     But the moment she spreads her wings, the protesters start shouting at her and gesturing; with the audio turned down, one can only hazard a guess as to what was being said; it was unlikely that any of it could even be considered 'mild'. For a moment, Shannon just turns to them, closing her wings again to present less of a target, and says something in what looks like a more calm, collected manner, her hands at her sides, empty. She is unarmed, and has her little brown bag with her, trying to defuse the situation without a fight.

     This did not seem to help matters, and in point of fact, only irritated one of the bigots, who got right up in her face, shouting at her like a drill instructor at first.

     However, at some point, he made a grab for her wing. Shannon took hold of the man's wrist, twisted around and used her hip to throw him off-balance, with her other hand gripping the back of the man's pants waistband, tossing him neatly to the ground--without apparent injury. The other protesters converge on her, and the situation does not look well for her.

     Out of nowhere, someone actually shows up to /help/ the winged teen, kicking one protester in the back of the knee, chopping one on the side of the neck, and a side kick to the head of the third. The motions are sharp, quick, and precise.

     Like a ninja.

SpyderByte has posed:
As he freezes the frame on the attacker's face, Jeremy gives antoher focus on the phone, then blinks twice. He snaps a shot of his face, then starts forcing his way through the FBI's firewall. With a quick copy paste query search, he starts searching law enforcement agencies to see if this man will pop up. The ninja is noted for the moment, but the hero isn't the focus of his attention.

As he glances down at his phone, he seems to zone out, losing himself down the technical rabbit hole. If Shannon is still speaking, he most likely can't hear it. Screens and screens whip through the phone at a rapid pace as he segments his brain to work in a million different ways. He's become a machine in this moment. His eyes rapidly blink at times, followed by a slight twitch.

"Uh huh." He mutters, as if he was still listening to her, his voice coming out automatically. Kind of like a distracted boyfriend watching a football game.

Nightingale has posed:
     "It's alright," Shannon replies, though her voice trails off as she sees the look on Jeremy's face. Shaking her head, she just chuckles lightly. "If you're looking for whoever it was that attacked me, I seriously doubt you'll find them."

     The footage continues, with Shannon taking advantage of the three protesters being dropped to get airborne. But the attack escalates. One protester reaches in under his shirt to come up with a pistol, taking aim at Shannon. But before a shot can be fired, the one who was helping her is swift to disarm the man, turning the weapon on him and letting loose a single shot into the man's femur, dropping him to the ground. It's enough to quell the protest, with the rest of the group putting their hands in the air. A second friendly joins in the effort now, from behind the crowd, with an assault rifle in her hands, and some sort of lanyard around her neck. The insignia, unfortunately, is not very clear, and is nearly impossible to enhance visually. Near her is a van that, in a few moments, she reaches into for what looks like an aid bag.

     Oddly enough, Shannon herself lands nearby, reaching for her little brown bag, and the first aid supplies within. Despite the man having just tried to attack her, she cannot go without at least trying to help set him to rights.

SpyderByte has posed:
"Do you want to put money on it?" Jeremy's voice comes out perfectly without a stammer. When he is this hyper focused, it's like he's a different person. "I found three of the top ten Most Wanted Terrorists two years ago and sent the CIA after them. They were in a hole three miles underground. One slipped up by accessing an old Netflix account before he forgot to close his web browser. It only took me fifteen seconds."

His eyes blink faster as the screens whip along his phone. One site after the other. Facial recognition software he VPNs into. Backtracking multiple camera feeds. By now, his phone is starting to feel incredibly warm, and that causes his fingers to tighten around it.

"I-I-I a-am g-g-onna fff-fffiiind him."

Nightingale has posed:
     And there it is. As the ninja-like friendly escorts Shannon back inside the burger joint, ostensibly to debrief her after the perp was stabilized by their joint efforts, the police arrive, as do EMT's to take custody of the man. The closest hospital is right in Salem Center, and that appears to be where he was taken. His name is kept classified, but at least his location has been found.

     The winged teen just grins ruefully at Jeremy and laughs, shaking her head. "Somehow, I think taking that bet would be a very bad idea. She pauses, tilting her head and peering over at him. "What if you do find him, what then? The law's probably already got him, let them take it from there."

SpyderByte has posed:
Wrinkling his nose, Jeremy disconnects as he whips his head back. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he shrugs bonelessly. "Y-y-ou're right." He gives a loud snuff, then reaches up to wipe beneath his nose a few times.

"D-do you th-think the law will c-c-are? No one c-cares about us. P-Police p-pr-pro-probably thinks he is d-doing them a fffavor." There is a soft sigh from the technopath as he places his hand over the top of his pants, as if he was antsy about being away from his technology for too long. That is what happens when he disconnects after a deep dive.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Well... someone cared. And the law sure seemed inclined to listen to them." Shannon shrugs, regarding Jeremy for a moment. She knew that feeling of being alone, of wondering if even those closest to you understood what you were going through, being so different.

     Thinking for a moment more, she finally plops down on the ground near what smells like a mint plant, setting down the basket next to her. Her little scissors are in hand, clicking away as she snips a few mint leaves here and there to add to her basket. Smiling lightly, she offers one of them, too, to Jeremy, to let him smell and taste if he wants. "There was a time for about two years after I manifested, where I felt incredibly alone. My abilities cost me all the friends I'd had up to that point, and the entire community where I grew up. Even though my parents loved and supported me, they could never really understand what it was like. They had never undergone a change like that, or experienced how... isolating... it can be. I know they wanted to try and understand, but... they couldn't. And I know it hurt them. Feeling alone like that... sucks."

SpyderByte has posed:
Taking his phone back out of his pocket, Jeremy holds it out as the robotic voice of British Siri can be heard. << My parents don't even know I'm a mutant. They are just mad that I got busted for my criminal activity involving comptuer hacking. I was bullied my entire life at school for being weak and for being born autistic. I can't talk very well. It made me an easy target. My brain says one thing but my mouth does not want to work with me. It made socializing really hard. I don't want my parents to find out about me. They don't talk to me as it is. My dad left us after we had to settle in court. My family lost a lot of money bailing me out and then we were sued. They lost everything because of me. >>

There is a twitch of his cheek as he lets out a low sigh. << I was new to my powers and careless. Was a lesson I will never forget. They were more than happy to get rid of me when Miss Grey told them about the academy. >>

Nightingale has posed:
     "Their loss," Shannon says, reaching over to gently lay the mint leaf onto the screen of Jeremy's phone. "But our gain. You are more remarkable than you give yourself credit for. She pauses, considering for a moment. "Is it alright if I just touch your hand?" She'd seen him shy away in initial encounters, and so had no wish to spook him.

     A soft sigh escapes her, and she purses her lips. "I had a careless, reckless moment, too," she begins. "Partially, I was deceived... tricked into healing someone. My desire to do good was used, and it was incredibly risky besides. It should have killed me. Hell, it should have killed a /god/. But it didn't."

     She smiles a little bit, and shrugs. "And yet, because of that, I learned that I am capable of more than I thought, and sometimes, one /has/ to be bold, and take a risk. It also showed me how far I had to go, how much there is still to learn, and... I don't have to give up any of my dreams, just because I have mutant gifts. I gained more than was lost."

SpyderByte has posed:
Giving a nod of his head as he listens, Jeremy glances down at the mint leaf upon his display. At the question about touching his hand, his eyes glance down towards his left one that isn't holding his phone, the one with the jagged scar across it. His lips press, then he lets out a soft breath. << Yes, you can. >>

If he is to ever learn trust, he has to start taking baby steps. At least he doesn't curl up within himself and his hoodie this time. He's already a sweaty mess and there is no reason to pull his hood back up so he can be even more miserable. << I don't know how powerful I am. I have hacked into alien technology recently and it made me almost black out. I got a nose bleed. >>

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon smiles lightly and reaches out, moving slowly to give Jeremy every chance to pull away if he so wishes. If he does not, her touch upon his hand is brief, her fingertips tracing the scar across his wrist, then the back of his hand. "I wish I could heal that," she murmurs. "But it's old. I wouldn't be able to do much, if anything." She does not allow her touch to linger for very long, drawing her hand back and allowing it to rest on her lap.

     Her eyebrows loft as she looks down at the screen of her phone. "Was it that day in the backyard with miss Braddock?" she inquires. "Is... that what's wrong with her eyes? Alien tech?" She frowns deeply, taking a long, slow breath to try and calm down. "One can guess it's probably less than friendly. Does miss Grey know?"

SpyderByte has posed:
As her fingers brush along the scar, Jeremy's body is on high alert and he gives a stiffened twitch. << The ones on my back are a lot worse. It's why I wear hoodies and baggy clothes. I don't want to scare anyone. Mister McCoy saw them and I could tell by his face he was upset. >>

At the next question, he gives a nod of his head. << Yes. She doesn't know how it happened to her, but I was able to hack her eyes and loop the stream. It was only for a moment, but I reverse engineered the signal and I was able to see who was watching us. Not human. Large yellow slug. Crazy eyes with .. wires holding his eyes open. It was a blurry image. So, now Miss Braddock is living off mansion so that she won't compromise anyone else. She is looking to remove her eyes. Yes, Miss Grey knows. >>

Nightingale has posed:
     Shannon nods slowly. "Good, then it sounds like you've done what you can so far. And... about the hoodie..." Her words trail off for a moment, and she furrows her brows, trying to choose the right words. "I won't ask what Mr. McCoy saw. That's between the two of you. Maybe someday you'll be able to talk about it. If that day comes, I'll be here." She smiles a little bit, lifting her chin just a notch towards Jeremy. "I can understand you wanting to cover something like that up. But a heavy hoodie scares me in hot weather like this. It wouldn't take much for me to sew something with equal coverage, but lighter weight so you won't risk getting heat sick."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< I could buy something lighter if I wanted to. I just like black. It makes me feel safe. Even if I am sweating and not comfortable. It's humid out here. >> The phone continues with the British female voice of Siri. It has to be weird instead of a male voice. But, Siri is soothing and gentle.

He seems to hem and haw a bit before he lets out a soft breath. He reaches down to his hoodie and pulls it upwards over his head where he has a thin black shirt on. He is soaked in sweat as the shirt clings to his lanky body. With the hoodie off, it's easy to see just how thin he is. As he puts the hoodie to the side, he kinda slumps into a bit of a lump. There is scars along his arms, long jagged marks that tuck up into his sleeves.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Well... black does look good on you," Shannon replies, smiling as she nods in agreement. "I meant a lighter weight material, not a lighter color. Black so you could still feel safe, and look pretty good doing it."

     She says little about Jeremy's scars. It must have been hard enough for him when Mr. McCoy saw those and worse. But she couldn't lose it. Not here, not now. "If I had known you then," she says, her voice soft. "I would have tried to protect you."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< Maybe I will get a lighter hoodie. >> Jeremy says as he gives a few tugs on his short sleeves of his shirt. The comment about him looking good in black causes his cheeks to flush brightly as he ducks his head. He rubs the back of his neck a bit, working his fingers through his sweaty hair.

<< You could not have protected me. Unless you were in Juvie. When I was sentenced for hacking, it should have been until I was eighteen, then I would have served a five year sentence. Unfortunately, when you are new and you look like me, the older kids see you as prey. >>

Using the computer voice, it's obviously easier for him to speak about it, instead of stuttering through the conversation. His face looks tight though as he glances away from her, as if ashamed.

<< Do you want to know what they did to me? >>

Nightingale has posed:
     "It's up to you if you want to tell me. I can imagine it was pretty bad." The winged teen's voice is soft, gentle like Siri's, but without the British accent; there is a faint note of sadness in her voice that cannot be entirely erased.

     "Alright, maybe I couldn't have protected you then. But perhaps it's possible to work on not being prey for the future." She smiles a little bit, ruffling her wings, and combing her fingers through the feathers. One flutters to the ground, a light breeze sending it twirling and skittering along till it hits Jeremy's sneaker. "Something as simple as going for a short walk every day could help you with a bit of strength. That's it. Just a bit of walking. I'd be happy to go with you, so you don't have to be alone. Plus it'd be good for me, too."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< I'm not really good with walking long distances. It hurts to breathe. >> Jeremy picks the feather up in his fingers, stroking it along his palm slowly with a soft sigh. << I was never athletic. I'm practically a vampire. The sunlight hates me. >>

Giving a chew on his bottom lip, he lets out a soft sigh. Slowly, he peels his shirt up and over his head to reveal the scarring along his back. The names. The 'word'. He is skeletal in appearance with sharp ribs pushed against his skin, his body white and hairless. The angry red and pink scars are a sight to behold

<< They pushed me into a closet and held me down. They took a broomstick and used it on me. In me. They hit me so hard I blacked out. The janitor found me covered in blood and what they did to my back. It was enough to release me from Juvie and waive the rest of my sentence. >> He is staring at his hands and away from her as his body gives a tremble. He's slick with sweat, but he feels cold as he tells his story .. through the voice of a sweet British lady.

Nightingale has posed:
     There is no way Shannon can prevent the mist that glistens in her eyes now, as she sees the scars and listens to Jeremy's story. She is struck to silence, hearing of the horrors he endured. Her wings spread out to their full span, rustling herbs and flowers on either side of her. But there is no hint of revulsion whatsoever in her expression. For a moment, it looks as if she might reach out to try to hold him, but she holds back, not quite sure if that is something he is ready for. "God... I am so sorry that happened to you. The next person who tries to hurt you, I think will have a long line of protectors to go through, to even come close. And I will be among those in that line."

SpyderByte has posed:
Nodding his head, Jeremy hugs himself a bit as he curls inwards and to the side. Ashamed. He reeks of humilation. << I know. Every one says that. I kind of believe it. I like staying inside and not bothering anyone. Just work on my computer. Less dangerous that way. School has incredible firewalls. I can break into another universe and walk out without being caught. >>

A lame attempt at a joke. It doesn't have the punch coming from a computer voice on a phone.

Nightingale has posed:
     Seeing Jeremy curl up like that is something Shannon cannot bear. "Is a hug something you feel ready to allow? If not, it's okay." Always, she did her best to remember to give him right of refusal. The ball was in his court.

     "You know," she says, cracking a bit of a smile. "Remember the fuzzy one you saw in the garage through my phone that time, before we ever met face to face? Logan?" Her smile turns into a bit of a grin. "He's very... /very/ protective of this school, and everyone in it. Including you. Maybe one day soon you'll get to meet him in person. He can be... a bit grouchy, but he's not so bad under all that."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< Yes, I know him. I'm not afraid of staying here. I know I won't be hurt here. It's just going to take time for me to work through this. It was only last year that this happened to me. It's fresh. I don't sleep good anymore because of it. >>

Jeremy rubs the back of his neck some at the offer of a hug.

<< I am sweaty and I probably smell bad. >> At least he is very honest. No one wants to hug a sweaty skeleton. Yech.

Nightingale has posed:
     Jeremy obviously isn't counting on someone who, quite frankly, doesn't give two pins about whether he's a bit sweaty and needs a few sandwiches or not. One hand and wing extend towards him, very slowly, as if even without words, the chance to step back or otherwise refuse is being given. Shannon tilts her head, noting his reaction, ready to pull back if it looks as if he is severely uncomfortable with the whole thing.

SpyderByte has posed:
When she reaches out to him, Jeremy glances up at her from behind a veil of black bangs. He hesitates for a moment, then shifts himself forward a bit so that he can hug her back. He practically weighs nothing, his body so thin. She can feel the bones poking through him. One of his ribs looks a bit crooked, as if it didn't heal right from being shattered. He is definitely sweaty, but at least he doesn't smell too bad. Just like a young teen boy. She can feel his breath on her neck coming out in a tight puff. His own arm slides against her hip, just resting there as he half lids his eyes as if he wasn't sure how long to do this for.

Nightingale has posed:
Shannon's wing curls around Jeremy for a moment, as if to shelter him from that which would cause him harm; it also serves to hide his scars from anyone nearby. "Thank you," she says, with a light smile. He is, of course, free to pull away any time he wants, though she's not going to push that, either. She didn't say anything else, just content to relax in the moment.

     Now, just what /had/ he meant, when he was asking if she had any plans...?

SpyderByte has posed:
Once it feels a bit dragged on, Jeremy eases back away from her, then pulls his shirt back on over his body. He smooths the wrinkles out a bit with his fingers, then tucks the feather into the back of his phone case. There. He's accessorizing. << No problem. >> The phone chimes again.

<< I should get going and take a shower. I feel gross and sticky and now I feel bad that you're gross and sticky. Your feathers are all clumpy there. >> He says as he points at her wing.

Nightingale has posed:
     Taking the hint, Shannon leans back a little, folding her wings and tucking them in neatly against her back. Or at least, as neatly as one can, with sweaty, clumpy feathers. She chuckles softly, smiling. "It's alright. I'll just go take a shower, and make some tea with this chamomile and mint." She inclines her head towards the basket. "Next time you're having trouble sleeping, maybe I could make you some, too. At least you'd have company."

SpyderByte has posed:
<< If you want to watch me stare at a computer, sure. When I can't sleep, I just pull the laptop into bed with me and I go back to work. >> Jeremy pushes himself up and grabs his hoodie. He bites his lip for a moment, then ties it around his waist. Looks like he's not going to put it on right now.

<< You can always knock on my door if you want to hang out too. I like hanging out with you. >>

Nightingale has posed:
     A soft chuckle escapes the young woman, and she shrugs, ruffling her slightly matted wings. "I might knock, but they're pretty picky about boys and girls hanging out in each other's dorms. But," she adds. "We could always head for the computer lab or the library. Or the garden, if the weather allows for it. I could bring my laptop, too, and work on a little music while we hang out."

SpyderByte has posed:
Nodding his head, Jeremy's phone says once again. << Also can use Facetime also if you did not want to get out of bed at three in the morning. That seems to be my sweet spot of when I wake up. >>

Giving himself a long stretch to crack a few joints in his spine, he flops his arms back down and smiles towards her. He leans in and gives a gentle shoulder bump, then starts down the path. << See you later! >> His phone chimes in the Final Fantasy victory music in his wake.

Nightingale has posed:
     "Facetime works too," Shannon agrees, nodding. The shoulder bump draws a smile from her, and she chuckles softly. "It'd be a change of pace. If I'm awake at that hour, I'm usually either in the kitchen, or in my dorm either playing my piano, or on my laptop working on something. But I'm rarely without my phone, so I shouldn't be hard to find either way." As he starts down the path, one slightly matted wing raises, as does her hand, in a wave. "See you later!"