Owner	Pose
Phobos	There is never a morning rush for a magic shop. Never a lunch time rush, nor a dinner rush. In fact the number of customers that the young Olympian known as Alexander Aaron has seen in his time spent at the Magic Box in Sunnydale could all easily be counted on one hand. But there's something liberating about that. An easing of expectations and freedom from desire which leads one to embrace the casualness of the life.     Such as taking time to wake up in the morn after various and sundry people have wandered toward their daily business. No responsibilities for him here until the next moonrise, what with his time taken off from his other obligations. But still, was nice to just wake up, have a cup of coffee and wander outside the shop to the street before it.     There was a metal picnic table with four metal chairs near it that gave a place for one to relax and take their ease. It was there that he pulled out one of the chairs, its metal legs scraping on the sidewalk slightly, and then he sat down in it. Slouched comfortably, mug in both hands, he looked like any tourist who wanders the ways of the suburb. Though right now he was wearing a pair of white Chuck Taylor sneakers, some blue jeans, and a t-shirt that depicted a cartoon penguin brandishing a knife hat had a caption beneath that said simply, 'Psycho Penguin Qu'est-ce que c'est'.
June	"I dunno," June says, "It's fuckin' Sunnydale, this place is like, little town America, they aren't gonna just advertise if stuff like that's happening. Yeah, well last time I was here I got fuckin' attacked by a werewolf, place is creepy as hell. I'll let you know whatever I find."     Besides her rather loud exchange on the phone, June stands out from the average Sunnydaler for other reasons. Blue and blonde striped hair, shaved on one side. Piercings in her nose, several in the ears, and a less than modest attire might peg her as urban trash. Tattoo on her shoulder of the infamous Footclan, and a shredded belly shirt that shows a dragon around her midriff. Her black ripped shorts are clashed by a pair of converse sneakers, and she shoves the phone into her back pocket, and takes a gander at the area, looking remarkably pissed at its very existence.
Phobos	Indeed, the small side street just continues to be there, existing menacingly. At a glance it seems to show no hint as toward losing its corporeality and instead keeps on being there in a shared reality. The nerve.     Across the way are those small shops, an older woman walking her poodle of all things, and a food truck that's parked near that magic shop and the blond guy settled in the chair there drinking his coffee. He has a sort of sleepy-eyed look though whether that's from the time of day or just his natural facial expression is hard to say. But one thing is for certain, his attention is drawn toward the Urbo Chic young woman with her tats and gear and the Cons on her feet.     Does he say anything? Maybe if they were back in the Bronx. But here in Suburbia? He sips his coffee. And if eye contact is made he doesn't shy from it, instead giving that thin smile of. 'Oh hi, Mark.' That non-committal non-greeting.
June	June, in her judgmental looking survey of the area, feels that sense that she's being watched, and her head swivels uncannily toward Alex. The cordiality isn't returned, the glare at the stranger more challenging than passive.     "What?" she asks, standing a good fifteen feet away. She doesn't change her posture to be threatening, or more friendly.
Phobos	A leisurely blink is given as he lifts his mug of coffee and offers in rejoinder. "Morning." He looks just like some dude, handsome sure, but his clothes are a bit baggy. Pale hazel eyes might be a little disconcerting but his body language is exceedingly passive as he remains mostly reclined with one shoe over his knee as he slouches there.     "You look a little lost." Some presumption in those words as he tilts his head to the side to continue to consider the other young person. A quick once-over is given, a glance from bottom to top, not a casual glance like a guy looking over a gal, just curiousity.
June	The young woman looks as if she might just cuss him out for the comment, but she bites her tongue. Literally. "A little. And mornings suck ass, so that doesn't help." If she just traveled here today, it's a little bit of a drive to get here from any major metropolis, so she certainly had to get up early. She doesn't offer any explanation of what she's looking for, though, she just stands there with a mild discomfort, though it seems directed toward the town around her more than to the man before her specifically.
Phobos	The youth watches her with a slow blink that might be reminiscent of a lizard considering its next meal. Though there is naught malicious in his gaze, just that steady regard given with no shame to be watching. Then he gestures with a slight nod to one of he iron chairs that surround the metal picnic table.     "Well," He takes another sip of coffee then straightens up a little, resting the half-empty mug on the grate that passes for a tabletop. "You could take a seat, get your bearings. Figure out where you're going."     Then he cocks his head to the side as his gaze wanders to the food truck that is starting to open, the owner jostling around and making a few clanging sounds from within the old greenish van. "Then, by the time you're done, Mr. Kosar might be done opening and you can get a sandwich." Which, apparently, all of the sandwiches seem to be involving peanut-butter in some form as the name of the food truck is none other than, 'Miracles-In-Peanut-Butter.'
June	June looks at the iron seat. Then her eyes shift back up to him. She decidedly makes no motion to go sit in it, inhaling in a way that is almost seems an excersize. "Yeah...I think I'll pass," she says, looking at the truck. She does give it a longer gaze that would suggest her comment isn't fully truthful.     "You live around here?" she asks. "You ever heard of Courtney Schreiner?" Who's that? Just a college age girl that survived high school in Sunnydale, and never moved out.
Phobos	"Yesterday," Alexander starts as he remains in his casual posture. No hint of him giving some insight into tension nor malice nor heightened agitation. It's all at ease, to such a degree it might be a subtly affected thing when he's around someone that he perhaps recognizes is on edge in some way. "Mr. Kosar made a deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwich with powdered sugar and chocolate. It blew me away."     There's a steady nod there as if he were imparting some deep wisdom to the young woman before him. "No idea what today will be, but we'll see." A glance is given to that green truck, then back to her.     "But no, I live in the city." The one across the river with that famous skyline. "Just sort of staying here for a few days. Small vacation."     A beat passes between them, then he adds. "My name is Alexander. And no, I don't believe I know a Courtney."
June	There's a slight look over her face that says 'you poor creature.' "Is that so?" she asks, as if she doesn't really care. "Well, I guess call the peanut butter convention," comes her dry response.     She does, however, walk over, but instead of sitting on the chair, she parks her rear on the edge of the table, not too close to her new acquaintence, though. "You chose here as a vacation spot? You are shitting me. What is there here that would make someone want to go on vacation? And don't worry about it, seems nobody's heard of her." she asks. She doesn't offer her name in return.
Phobos	"Well," Alexander seems to straighten up a little, and he gestures with one hand to the side. The way the t-shirt hangs on him it offers small glances at a normally decently disguised physique that might be worthy of remark. But beyond that he does a good job of looking just like some casual twenty-something. "Some of my friends run around in these parts. And I came by."     She might see his eyes distance a bit as he composes his thoughts in a way that might not be too outlandish, but also isn't lying. Which can be a curious journey as one finagles that mentally. "I found one of their sorta parental type units under some duress and getting hassled, so I vouched for them. Got the hasslers to back off the hasslees, but to make sure everything goes smooth..."     Only then does he look fully back at her with a hint of his smile reaching those pale eyes, "I ended up having to stay here for a few days. So I'm making the best of it."     As he finishes with that he then inquires, "And you? Why're you stomping around all grumpy?"
June	"Parental type units?" June echoes. "What are they robots?-You know, I shouldn't ask, Stepford Wives bullshit probably is real here, wouldn't shock me. Place just seems...too perfect. Places that seem perfect usually have some fucked up stuff happening."     The young woman certainly doesn't have any qualms about a rather foul vocabulary. "And I'm just a bitch, I'm always like this. Don't wanna be here, can't wait to leave again, and hopefully no weird shit will happen to me and I don't get murdered by something. I tell ya, this place...all kindsa weird vibes." Which might be saying something, since the visible tattoo on her right thigh looks like a demon hand tearing it's way out of her body.
Phobos	"You'd probably be right," Alexander looks curiously to the side when the wooden shade is pushed out away from the side of the van as Mr. Kosar gets ready for the first few customers who have wandered out and gotten in line. Not exactly a brisk business, but a few orders are taken and made.     "But he's a parental unit like... not a parent, but fills that role, guardian." He lifts a hand and waggles it to the side as if not really accepting whatever definition and just using what words are best to use.     "Though I think mostly the weird stuff happens at night, so long as you mosey by then you should be alright."     A tilt of his head as he sort of points in her direction, "Though figured a ninja might have made peace with the night." His lip twists a little. Making fun of her? Maybe, maybe not. More likely curious than anything else.
June	The word ninja decidedly, if subtley, gains a reaction. It's not a look of surprise, just of attentiveness. She's fully aware of what gave her away. "Yeah, well, night is fine best clubs are open at night, but weird monsters and shit, that's another story. Stay around here and I'd probably end up starring in some pervy japanese cartoon story. That ain't my thing." Her eyes momentarily fall on her shoulder with the Foot tattoo. "And I don't do that shit anymore." She gives a twitch of her cheek that says that might not be fully true. "Well, not for them," she adds.
Phobos	"Well, I mean..." Alexander gives a nod as he listens to her explanation then considers his reply. "You do sort of stand out, which goes against the whole be not seen thing." His eyebrows lift, then he cocks his head to the side curiously, "Then again it could be super effective from the other angle. Someone that draws a glance so strongly couldn't possibly be engaged in subterfuge."     Then his lip twists up, "If it weren't for the tattoo." Which yah puts a bit of a kibosh on that argument he'd been considering.     "The main thing. I am told. That they have running around here, weirdly enough, are vampires." He takes up his mug of coffee and takes another sip, but continues to hold it as he finishes the swallow.     "And demon-like things."
June	There's a curl of her lip. "Yeah, well, all about perception. You don't gotta be invisible, just not what people think." Which of course does beg the question of where the contrast lies in her.     "Vampires? So I should like, eat a shit ton of garlic," she comments. "Great." She stands up from the table. facing away for a moment. "Place just gets better," she comments sarcastically. "So your friends just stay here with vampires around?" she pauses, the opposite question clearly creeping into her mind. She doesn't say that second question. "Well, you got balls of steel to just stick around here," she comments. "Soon as I can figure out if this girl even really exists, I'm out. My luck she'll be one of the vampires."
Phobos	"It's possible," Alexander leans back in his seat and resumes the slouch, drawing his leg up over his knee but grabbing it with both hands and pulling it a little more into his lap. "That she's one of them, but I don't know."     He spares a glance for the place and then says, "Maybe they stay here since the property values are so low. I mean vampires are vampires, rent is rent." His lip twists up, amusing himself if no one else.     "Though dunno if garlic works." A pause before he adds, "Though really every city has its crazy. Gotham has the bat stuff, which could be another flavor of vampires too. Metropolis has all the costumes. New York too."
June	"Eh, I live in Gotham, they aren't so much vampires as much as like, cosplay goths that like to beat the shit out of people they decide are bad guys. Which gives them justification to beat the shit out of about ninety percent of the population." She turns back around to face Alex. "Well, as stimulating as this conversation is," she comments. "I gotta see if I can't find this girl, before someone else does." She doesn't really bid farewell, but she does just start to walk away. She's definitely low on social graces, whether by design or by nature.
Phobos	There's a measure of curiousity as June offers her reasons and makes her goodbyes in her own particular way. Which is enough to cause Alexander to answer with a simple single word. "Alright."     And as easy as that the two are socially extracted, leaving the youth there to consider the departing ninjette even as he gains his feet with the sound of his chair legs scraping. Mug taken in hand he starts to stroll on over toward the food truck to get in line for today's special...     'Marshmallow Peanut-Butter on Toast with Pickles.' A tempting taste extravaganza.