6859/The Play's The Thing

The Play's The Thing
Date of Scene:	11 March 2019
Location:	A Gotham University playhouse
Synopsis:	Carrie meets James over a play with Apaches as a subject matter. A stage accident results in students who need saving.
Cast of Characters:	Carrie Kelley, Warpath

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Carrie Kelley has posed:
The theater wasn't that busy at the moment. There were some students off to one side reading over lines and practicing, a few others fiddling with the sound and lighting. It was the standard fare for a theater pre-production. Carrie had an area set up to the side of the stage away from those currently practicing so that she could go over the script and details therein with the guy that was generous enough to spare his time to come out and assist with the finer details of the material.

The redhead was currently decked out in her theater finest... Which is to say she was wearing jeans, and a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up with her hair piled atop her head in a messy bun. She'd been here most of the day already helping out where they needed a hand, but ultimately? She was the director of this production. She was the one they came to when there was a problem or question. Right now it wasn't so bad since they were still weeks away from an actual show.

Abruptly she sits up in her chair laying the folded and scribbled upon script down on her lap with a sigh. "Okay. This is making my heart ache to keep reading, and I'm just some white college chick. You want to take a break for a few? I can grab us a drink," she offers to James with a weary smile.

Warpath has posed:
A member of the faculty at Gotham U and had suggested they had a college friend from their days at Columbia who had grown up on an Apache reservation, and would be well-suited for answering questions about the play and its portrayal of the tribe. And as a bonus, he was not too far away over in New York.

When James Proudstar arrived in the theater hall, he probably received a number of stares from the students, as no one had mentioned he was over seven feet tall. Though by now he has been around the production for a day, more than long enough for the stares to taper off.

"I think a break would be a good idea," James agrees in his deep bass voice. He has been fairly quiet most of the time, observing mostly, though responds well to questions. He rises from where they are seated, stretching his legs. "What was it about this play that brought you to choose it?" James asks her quietly as he glances down at the red-haired student. "I have not seen it performed before. I imagine the performance comes with perils in today's climate," he comments as he will walk along with Carrie to get the drinks.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
There's a little flicker of a shadow that crosses Carrie's face when the question of why this play comes up. It's brief and quickly hidden as she turns away. The script is set down on the table she often used as a 'desk', and she pushes up out of her chair with a little side to side stretch before she starts to lead the way toward the break area, taking care not to step in or tangle her feet on the trailing wires of the sound and lighting that were still being laid out.

"It was written by another student last year," she explains. "I didn't know him very long. I was just a Freshman at the time, but I know this was important to him." A little half-jump is taken over a board on the floor she knew from habit was squeaky, and then she gestures at the mini-fridge set up. "We've got water, Gatorade, iced tea, and coffee. Probably about a billion sodas, too, but I try to keep people hydrated while they're here."

She snags a bottle of unsweetened ice tea for herself before turning back to regard the very tall fellow who had been helping out with a faint smile. There was something she was holding back about her explaination on the play... and after a small breath she finishes the story. "The guy who wrote the play was Henry Eddington. His mom was Apache, from the same reservation you come from. He committed suicide near the end of last year. So yeah, it's controversial, but ... He was one of us. A theater kid. We all want to do his memory some justice."

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar follows along behind Carrie, noting the practice and care with which she navigates the minor hazards of the theater. Either extremely observant, or the young woman must spend a lot of time here. One might expect someone as large as James to move with a heavy step, but the opposite seems to be true. Large feet avoiding the wires, though he does catch the squeaky board he was unaware of.

The Native American, who looks like he's not much past college age himself, selects a bottle of water and then leans back against a wall next to the fridge as he listens to Carrie's explanation about the play continue. The name of the writer brings a look of recognition and a warm smile from James. Expressions that fade away as he hears of the suicide.

"I hadn't realized. No one had passed on..." he says, voice trailing off before James clears his throat of the emotion that threatened to cut his words off. The man's dark brown eyes drop to the floor and he shakes his head. "I should have visited him after," James says to himself. "He was such a talented kid, never thought he'd deal with it like that," James says, drawing a slow breath. His expression is mournful, beyond someone who just out an acquaintance of theirs is dead.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley takes a sip of her iced tea only to set it aside quickly when she watches James' expression fall like that. "Oh shit, I'm sorry, I didn't realize..." Mentally kicking herself for NOT thinking of it she just works on instinct instead. Stepping forward she rests a hand on his arm giving a firm, reassuring squeeze. "I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. But," she adds ducking her head just a little to cut into his line of sight to peer up at him. "Don't blame yourself. None of us guessed either. He was always such a cheerful guy, always quick to make a joke."

"But as to why he chose to leave us that way? That's anyone's guess. Maybe you being there would have helped, but we can't say that for sure. No one can." Her lips purse tight together. "If you need to take a break for the day, or don't feel up to continuing with this I understand. Take some time."

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar's eyes stare at the floor before him, not really focused, not really seeing the theater floor. Focused on a dark-haired kid, coming over with a football and wanting to play with the older kids, but being told he was too small, would probably get hurt.

The touch draws him back out of the memory and he looks up and over to Carrie. "His mother. And uncle. They were at the reservation when everyone there was killed," James says, the deep voice sounding dulled. Hollow, as if reflecting something of what the man feels as he speaks of the massacre. "Word got out to everyone. We checked on each other. I probably focused too much on trying to find those responsible, and not enough on looking after those who were away, those who were left. Like Henry."

Another memory occurs to James and he gives a soft smile at it. "Such a good kid. His mother used to make the best pies and he'd always pilfer a huge slice and cut up with and share with the other kids," James says quietly.

He looks back up and finally his eyes settle over on Carrie. He reaches over to rest a large hand on hers where she touches his arm. "Thank you. For putting on his play. I really had no idea the source. It means a lot. It'll mean a lot. I'll get words out to those who are left, who weren't living on the reservation anymore, when you perform it," he says.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"That would be great," Carrie agrees with a quick dip of her head. "Just let me know and I'll have tickets for them waiting. We're not a exactly broadway, but we'll do our very best for it. For him."

There's a little rough swallow of her own at this point, and her eyes skirt to the side. Even if she hadn't know him long, he had been one of the most welcoming and helpful of the older students when she arrived. The theater in highschool, and how here, had always been her refuge and home away from home. A step is taken away as she realizes her hand was still on his arm, so she gives one last squeeze before drawing it back. Smiling boldly again, in spite of the emotions this entire situation brought up, she offers, "Thank you again, really, for coming. I'm sorry I didn't realize there was more going on than what I knew otherwise I would have told you sooner. It's just not always easy to talk about. That's usually the things people need to talk about though, huh?" Chuckling a bit at herself she reaches again for her bottle of ice tea.

A thought strikes her then. Hand hovering on the bottle she fixes her gaze back on him seriously. "So now that I've ruined your day, how are *you* doing? You've been listening to me all day. If you need to talk about anything I'm a pretty good ear."

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar clears his throat and takes a sip from the bottled water. Together with a deep breath in and out, they go a long way to clear away some of the emotions that have passed through James in the last few minutes. "If Henry didn't talk about it, no way you'd have known. It was last year. And the news moved on pretty quickly when there was no evidence of who was responsible," he says.

James' eyes look to the side and his finger itches at his nose as he speaks of there having been no evidence. Micro-expressions that indicate an untruth, that could be caught by an extremely observant person.

James looks back up and over to Carrie. "I am doing alright. I... came through a rough time previously. Of my own doing. Which is taking some time to live down," he says quietly. "Getting away to Gotham for a day is actually a good idea for me this week," he tells the red-haired college student. "I think I might take it a step further and go visit the ranch, even," he says.

James gets a thought. "You were asking about horses in a few places in the play. Have you ever been riding, yourself?" he inquires, head tilting to the side as he looks over to Carrie.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The mention of horses earns a little laugh from Carrie as her head shakes. "Not a lot of those in Gotham that I'm aware of. Nah, I'm a city girl. Much as I love animals, horses aren't one of the ones I've ever come across before." Another grin comes over her as she takes a quick gulp of her tea. She shifts her weight back to lean against the snack table, ankles crossed casually, in a rather precarious balance. Maybe being lower to the ground helped with that. The whole center of gravity thing being lower thing. "Wait, do merry-go-rounds count? I've totally ridden a merry-go-round horse. Kind of stiff and wooden though," she jokes lamely.

"But, you know, if you need company or anything I suppoooose I could find the time," she drawls out a little only to grin further. Hey who doesn't like horses? Even though she looks about the proper size to ride a pony and not an actual horse.

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar takes a sip of his bottled water, the beverage cold enough that little beads of water have condensed on the outside, James wiping them from his hand after he finishes the drink. "The merry-go-round ones are probably a little more predictable. And the real ones have an advantage in scenery," James tells Carrie. The young woman's levity seems to be helping James get past the emotions of the earlier revelations though.

"If you're serious... well it's not just over the hill," James says, pausing in thought. The Apache's expression seems a little more light-hearted as he considers it. "It is back in Arizona. And I know you just met me, so if this is too much to offer, I understand," James tells Carrie with an expression that suggests he would indeed understand.

"If you were actually considering it though? Could do it in a day I guess. But an overnight stay might be better. But... you could see the land that your play is set on. Meet a few of our people who have returned and are trying to carry on." James looks thoughtful. "I think they'd probably enjoy talking to you, and hearing about the play as well."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"That... that would be really helpful," Carrie has to admit with a thoughtful look. Her hand lifts up to rub at her chin idly as she considers the offer more seriously than before. The joking had at least seemed to cheer him up some, and her as well. They needed a bit of levity after the emotional roller coaster they'd both just gone through. "I was actually planning to make a small trip out to California to visit someone soon. That's about halfway there, so... it wouldn't be that bad of a detour over all."

Glancing back up toward James she smiles sheepishly. "If you're serious anyway. It would really help to get some more insight into things to make sure I do this play justice for him. Getting some conversation with others would be nice as well. Maybe I could work in some memories of Henry for the playbill, too. But," she adds quickly, "I don't really want to impose."

Warpath has posed:
James looks up as a couple of other students come through, grabbing some snacks. The snack-sized containers of mini-chocolate chip cookies seem to be a favorite and are going fast. James nods to them as they smile over and then depart, before he turns back to Carrie, looking thoughtful.

"Honestly... I think maybe having someone from outside of the reservation to talk to would be a nice thing," James says. He itches a spot on his cheek. "There's this look people get... and you know they are thinking about what happened. Or someone that's gone."

James pauses, taking another sip of water. "I think maybe spending some time there with someone who doesn't get that look, might do me good. If you did want to stop off during your trip, you'd have your own room if you wanted to stay overnight. We can take a couple of horses for a ride around the area. There's even a swimming pool if you want to work on your tan for a bit and make everyone here jealous who didn't get to go away for Spring Break."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The cookie theft is noticed as they slowly dwindle. Carrie leans to the side stretching her arm down beneath the table she was leaning against to fish around inside a partially opened box stashed under. The same packets of cookies are pulled out, and she tosses one lightly toward James with a grin. "These things are gold around here," she explains with a little wink of shared secrecy as to their location.

The topic at hand earns a nod as well when she pushes away from her spot leaning to stand properly. "I'd like that. The visit I mean. Tanning though?" A mock shudder runs through her at the very thought. Pointing at her own pale cheeks and red hair she points out, "My last name is 'Kelley,' which I believe roughly translates to 'Burns like dry parchment in the sun.'"

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar catches the offering of cookies, the large man giving a soft grin as he does. "You have guile, Miss Kelley," James says in a respectful tone of her keeping the secret stash. James opens up the package, trying one of the little bites of chocolatey heaven.

A warm chuckle sounds from James, the sound soft but genuine as he nods slowly about her complexion. "I'll pack plenty of SPF 50 then," he assures her. "And a hat for you," he adds, looking up towards the spray of red hair. "It is not as bad, this time of year," James assures her with a small nod. His own skin is that rich, deep tone that Native Americans have, and likely will only deepen in the sun.

"You said that you are a city girl. Gotham originally? Or somewhere else," he inquires. The sound of a couple of students arguing can be heard nearby. Discussing how many ropes to secure some bit of the scenery with before lifting it up overhead.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley can only laugh at the compliment with a theatrical dip of her head and a flourish of her hand as if she were indeed doing a bow. Or mock curtsey. Though given she wasn't wearing a dress likely the former. "I've got a stock of it myself for the rare times it's sunny in this city. I'll make sure to pack appropriately though."

The edge of the cookie pack is torn open and she pops one into her mouth just as she starts to hear the conversation about the scenery. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes run up toward the ceiling and the overhead rafters. Surely they weren't trying to move that JUST yet, right? Half paying attention to what he says she gulps down the mouthful of pastry to respond, "Gotham born and been here since. I've gotten out to New York a time or two but that's about it so far. I haven't had much cause to travel just yet." Though who didn't want to?

A slight suspicion overcomes her as she watches the sway of the rafters fixed overhead. "I think we might need to go check on front stage to see what they're up to," she mutters half to herself as she starts to walk back the way they'd originally come. All the while she talks still, "I imagine you've gotten to travel a fair amount, though?"

Warpath has posed:
The question about travel sends James' thoughts down a dozen paths. Places he's been. Things he's done. Some of them pushing the edges of his honor, though Emma Frost had always shielded him from the worst of the Hellfire Club's missions.

"I have traveled a bit, but it seems like I rarely had the time to relax and enjoy it," James tells her. He disposes of his water bottle in a recycling bin and then moves to join Carrie. The movement of the beams in the rafters is troubling, with the number of heavy sets that are already overhead.

"So one thing to be prepared for, with the horses? It uses a different set of muscles," James says as they slowly pick their way through all of the different bits of scenery and prop construction that are being done on stage. "Expect a little bit of soreness the next day. But I hope that won't scare you off. They are magnificent anima-"

James' words are cut off as there is suddenly the sound of splintering wood that comes from up in the rafters. Too much weight with the new piece that was being raised. Two large pieces of prop start to fall towards the ground. There are a trio of students underneath the one that will land nearer. And a lone girl that is beneath the further of the pair, a good dozen feet upstage.

James sees the falling props, each weighing hundreds of pounds, reacting astoundingly fast as he moves towards the trio of people about to be crushed, planning to catch the falling item. But he cannot reach both, the woman further on in imminent danger!

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"RUN!" The bellow comes clear, sharp, and commanding from the small redhead that was leading the way to the stage. Her voice carries easily as she's so familiar with the acoustics of the theater that she does it without a second thought. More importantly though is the fact that she's taking her own advice by breaking into a run.

Not away from the falling debris, but toward those in danger.

She was, if anything, quick on her feet. Not supernaturally so, but far more than one might expect looking at her. It's that furthest girl she goes for as she literally leaps and lunges to tackle her around the waist with one arm.

She flips them both around mid-air as they sail off the edge of the stage so that when they come down on the ground it's her that lands first. Whether it be a good or a bad fall it didn't matter - Carrie was bracing it so that she would be the one to take the impact either way. It's all done in a matter of moments. All she can do is squeeze her eyes shut and prepare for the impact of both floor and any potential debris that might shatter off the stage itself.

Warpath has posed:
The falling scenery, a wooden contraption that has rocks and distant canyons painted on it, but is meant to have moving parts so it can change to reflect the fading light as the scene on stage goes from day to night, crashes to the ground. The bodies of Carrie and the other student hurtle away from the site, clearing by just a few feet the edge of the falling piece. The student that Carrie tackles lands on her, gasping softly but apparently unharmed.

The other set piece, even larger, crashes down towards the three students who stand gaping. Just as it is about to hit them, James is underneath of it to catch it. The trio of students together probably could not hold it up. James doesn't seem to strain with the weight, just holds it overhead as he looks to see Carrie and the other girl are safe.

Once James sees that, he carefully sets on the ground the piece that he's caught, checking on the three students with a brief, "Everyone ok?" before rushing over to where Carrie and the other student lie upon the ground.

"Are you both alright?" he asks, the large Native American's voice taut with concern, a hand going to Carrie's shoulder to check on her. He gently helps the other student off of Carrie, but makes sure the red-head is alright before helping her up.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Even as Carrie lays on the ground dizzy and winded from the impact, the first words out of her mouth are, "Is everyone okay?" It's barely heard in spite of her earlier ability to project her voice through the theater. Right now she wasn't in any state of mind to do that. Blinking her eyes open a time or two she glances at the girl that gets off her with an apparent nod that SHE was okay. Then There's James, leaning over to check on her.

A hand raises giving a thumbs-up in response though she just drapes her other hand over her rib cage lightly to rest. "Just... give me a moment to lay here... Think about my life choices..." A half joke even now.

Shutting her eyes another moment she runs a mental tally of herself. Injuries? Bruises mostly. Loss of breath from impact. Should have braced herself better. Slowly she takes a few deep breaths, and then looks toward James again with a little nod and accepts his help to sit up.

"Thanks. That could have been bad." A glance is cast back over the stage noticing the other peice that... wasn't totally broken with an arched eyebrow. She missed something there, clearly.

Warpath has posed:
The students are all gathering around, some babbling excitedly, others just staring. "Everyone is ok," James assures Carrie, the large man's deep voice managing to cut through the babble clearly enough to be heard. "Guile -and- agile, Miss Kelley. That was very impressive. You saved her from serious harm," he tells Carrie as he gently helps her sit up when Carrie is ready to do so.

One of the students pats Carrie's shoulder. "You're a hero, Carrie," he says, which provokes a bunch of other students agreeing, and then they break out in applause. James just smiles at the young woman as he stands up, motioning with a hand for everyone to make sure and give her a little space before he crouches back down to where she sits.

"Probably need to revisit the weight limits," he says. Glancing up he adds, "And maybe some metal framework up there to replace the wood. I have some experience working with such things, if the students need a hand making repairs," James offers to her quietly.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The mention of being a hero earns a little groan from Carrie as she turns beet red. "Yeah, well. I've always been a runner," she admits quietly only to lift a hand and wave off the kid who clapped her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah Trev, don't make a big deal of it. Seriously though let's make sure everyone's okay and get this mess cleaned up before we get in deeper shit." Her hand moves to grasp James' arm as she gets back to her feet with a little nod.

One of the trio that had just stood and stared pipes up from where he still stood on the stage. "Yeah, but that guy, he friggin' *caught* the set! Like Hulk Hogan style over his head!" Carrie gives a sidelong glance toward James at hearing this with a single eyebrow raising up.

"You hit your head or something, Mikey? Go get checked out with the nurse before helping us clean this up just to be safe, okay?" Carrie calls out back toward him with a shake of her head.

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar pulls Carrie gently to her feet when she rises. He is quite muscular, enough he could be a professional wrestler at that. But no normal man would have been able to hold up that much weight. James doesn't comment, just says, "Could have been worse, but thankfully no one was hurt."

He looks over to Carrie and says, "Speaking of getting checked out, do you need a trip over to... whatever clinic they have on campus?" he asks, his head tilting just a bit in concern. "That was really brave of you, what you did," he tells her. More concern is in his expression as he realizes how close of a call it was for her, and the woman Carrie saved.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley reaches up with her free hand to gently press against one side of her neck until there's a single pop. There's no wince of pain. A good sign likely. "I didn't really think about it when it was happening. I'm just bruised up a lot," she admits giving his arm a reassuring pat. "I've been taking martial arts for the past year so I'm kind of used to getting thrown on the floor. I don't think it's any worse than that right now."

A glance is cast over the mess that's on the stage quietly. The sight of the potential accident was surveyed and it seems she might be taking in just how close a call it was herself. Another deep breath, and she tips her head up toward James to quietly remark, "I think I could use some fresh air at the least." Smiling thinly she adds, "Before I realize just how close that actually was to being really bad."

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar rests a hand on Carrie's shoulder. "Be right back," he tells her. James strides off to towards the little break area, then shortly thereafter returns with a bottle of iced tea, and another package of the cookies for Carrie. The old package? Can just be seen at one corner of the smashed piece of scenery, where it fell from her hands when she dove to save the other student. Nothing but crumbs now.

"Adrenaline's wonderful in the moment. But falling off of it can be something else," he tells her quietly. "Used to make my hands shake," he says. That was before his powers further evolved. But he leaves that part out.

James begins walking with Carrie then if she's ready, heading out of the theater and out onto the quad if so. "Would getting some ice for those bruises help?" he asks her, glancing over and keeping an eye on the young woman. Believing she is alright, but just looking for any signs. He did not get to see what happened clearly, won't know if she hit her head for example.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
When he steps off to get the drink and cookies Carrie just reassures the other students still lingering around that she was okay, and explains where she's going. Even those who had congratulated her for being heroic are okay with that. Who wouldn't want some air after this? A few were already starting to look over the mess, and others take pictures with their cellphones.

When James returns a grateful smile is offered in return. "Thanks. Yeah I'm thinking I'm probably heading that way. I've had enough brushes with stuff in this city to know how I react after another ten minutes or so." All the more reason for her to twist off the bottle cap to take a long deep chug as they walk out into the quad.

"Ah... Probably, yeah. I did land correctly, like I've been taught, but that wasn't a cushioned floor at all." For a moment she goes quiet and then asks, "So. Did you? I didn't get to see, but that part of the set is in good shape." A glance is offered along with a smile. "Don't really have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm no narc."

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar seems to be considering her question, but only for a few short moments. James glances about, ensuring the two of them are alone within earshot of his softly spoken voice as he says, "Yes, I caught it. I couldn't reach them both at the same time, unfortunately." Even with his arm spam they were too far apart.

James looks down to the shorter young woman. "I'm a mutant, Carrie. Fairly strong and resilient. A few other small advantages," he tells her. He watches her reaction. Not just watches. His sense of smell can pick up her emotions. Well, some of them, stronger ones like fear. His sense of hearing can pick up the beating of her heart.

He hopes that she doesn't react negatively. But he's prepared for it. "If knowing that... you'd rather not visit the ranch, I'd understand," he tells her quietly as he walks alongside of her.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The news does earn a small frown from the redhead as she listens. Her gaze rises up not toward him though but to look around the skyline of the college, and city just beyond. There is a certain tension that settles on her... but it's not fear. If anything it seems as if she were bracing herself for something. Preparing. Yet she seems relaxed otherwise. There's no tension in her muscles other than a tightening of her stomach, and squaring of shoulders.

"Should be careful then. We've had those *things* flying around the city the past few nights," she explains with another breif look around. Only then does she look back toward him with a wry grin. "I'm from Gotham. We've had Metahumans as long as I can remember. Mutants are essentially the same thing on a genetic level, or at least that's what some scientist decided. No different to me." A rolling shrug of her shoulders come, along with the smallest wince. Okay maybe she was a bit bruised.

"Even if I had some issue witht it, you just helped save like half my guys in there. Thank you."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley adds, deadpanning, "And you promised me horses. You are not backing out of that this easily, mister." At the end she does crack a grin though in spite of her serious act for all of a second.

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar spots the small frown and perhaps a small part of him inside feels a little downcast at seeing it. Though as the moment plays out, that fades away as he seems to realize where the frown was directed. "As far as I know, the government ones are not attacking anyone," James replies softly. "I pray it always remains that way. But others have gotten their hands on them as well. A friend of mine... could have been killed by one."

Was killed. But the death part didn't take. Thank God.

"You're welcome. What you did was pretty special, Carrie. I didn't have to risk myself in helping them. You did," the tall Native American tells her. He caught that wince that she gave. "Let's get you some Advil, and some ice. Your shoulder? Anywhere else? Ribs ok?" he asks.

The comment about the horses draws a soft smile from James. "Alright ma'am. Horses it will be," he says. They walk together as he adds, "I'm glad. I'd have been disappointed if you didn't come."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley ducks her head at the compliment. She did risk herself she knew, but she'd also been training to do just that for awhile now. Yet she wasn't sure she should mention that. It was still so new to her. "There's a lot of people in Gotham that risk themselves for others. A lot of people I look up to in that regard. I'm glad I could help and that it turned out okay. I'll survive bruises. I landed with the most of my weight on the back of my shoulders, but she did get me in the ribs with her elbow."

The bottle of iced tea is finished off with a quick gulp, and she lobs it at a trash can. It's a good dozen or more feet away yet she nails it with ease earning a mumble of, 'Score' from her.

Then she lightly elbows his side with her own, which wasn't saying much really in compairison. "Well I'd like to think after tonight we're friends, James. Of course I'll come visit."

Warpath has posed:
James Proudstar looks over to the red-haired young woman. "I'd like to think we are too," he tells her, giving a soft smile before his eyes swing back. "I can use a few more of those in my life," he tells her as they walk across campus.

A trip to the clinic will score some some advil to keep the bruising down, and a bag of ice for the same. James will make sure Carrie gets home safely, either walking her to her building, or at least getting her to her transportation. They already have each other's numbers from bringing him to help with the play.

"Good night, Carrie. I'm looking forward to talking with you again," he tells her before they part, the tall man looking back over his shoulder towards her until she's gone.