03.23.3014: Emergency BeatZ
Summary: Imogen responds to Sean's message of an "emergency" after a late night out with Silver, Antaeus, and Lincoln. (PG-13 - Language)
Date: 11 December 2013
Related: Shore Leave
Imogen Sean 


Sean's Loft — The Ring
A wide open area with a few thin support beams here and there, there is a window out to space for a decent view of Oculus. There is a small kitchenette just in and to the left of the sliding titanium firedoor. The shaping of the bulkheads is visible as there was no attempt to cover them. The kitchenette has an oven with two electric ranges on top, a short fridge and freezer, and some counterspace with a coffee maker and a sink.

There are a myriad of desks, with a single super comfy and cool looking highbacked chair, off to one side of the room. There is one decently sized monitor, a myriad of projectors and speakers, and a vast assortment of tools for the techie trade. Behind the desks against the wall are several racks of infosphere host terminals and processor blocks, wires running between them with an almost OCD organization to them. Also in this main room is a projector pointed at the window, with a large pleather couch facing it as well. There are some smaller tables and racks for a sound system that surrounds those sitting on the couch, or standing up before it.

To the right of the entrance is the door leading to a small bedroom that seems to be used for that alone, a bed. There is also a closet connected to the far side of this room. The bed is large enough for two people, but it's simple and the sheets are bareft of decorations. There is a standing shower, toilet, sink, and cabinet in this also small bathroom just a little further down, on the right hand side, from the door to the bedroom.

Early Morning, March 23, 3014

Imogen,

Need to talk. Questionable status as emergency. You're welcome in my sanctuary if you'd like. Let me know when you have free time.

-Sean


Sean had messaged directions to get to his place, lift doors in the side of an electronics mart that look more like loading doors for stock than a residential. The walkway is lit but from the outside it looks rather unimportant, as though people coming and going wouldn't really be paid much attention. There's no name plaque or calling device at the entrance, when anyone steps to the doors the lift lowers and they are allowed to enter and ride up the one story to another set of titanium fire doors.

At these doors a blue face flickers into view and the unnatural white-blue eyes stare at you for a long moment. "Good evening, you must be Miss Imogen. Sean set security protocols for your arrival. Please come in." the metallic sensual voice of the AI soft in the night.

When inside Sean's working at his desk, headphones over his ears and his hands working what appears to be a holoprojected turntable and other assorted DJ booth equipment. He's bopping his head to whatever it is he's listeing to and dancing with his upper body only, a good rhythm it might seem from the way he moves.

The hour is late, far later than Imogen's reply to the message that stated that there is a quasi-emergency. The explanation for the late arrival? Imogen has been out and still smells slightly like the massage oil that was used on her from her previous engagement. Her brown eyes are slightly glassy behind her haze of black lashes, and her choice in clothing is still the same baggy sweater, tank top, and skirt she was wearing while socializing. This should be the last stop of the night.

With a curious tilt of her slender eyebrows to the holographic face, Imogen remains quiet as the doors are opened for her. Slipping inside, she takes in the rather large apartment and takes a quick inventory of everything she sees. It's the typical new environment body language: Nice place. Lots of electronics. Probably death on rent.

Stepping over to Sean's working area, she moves to lean against the wall and slips her tablet under one of her slender arms. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK, her knuckles rap as loud as she can.

"Emergency beatz, Sean Thanesson?" She calls out to him.

That definitely gets Sean's attention and he stands up, but the headphones he was using weren't wireless and they snap his head back before disconnecting from the monitor. He yelped slightly at the jerking of the cans on his ears but slips them off and says, "What?"

It's rhetorical though as he smiles when he realizes to whom he's speaking. "Imogen, how was the massage? Hope you got a happy ending if it was from the Nirvana and someone else was paying." he motions then to his kitchenette, "Want a drink? I don't have your usual on hand but I can mix something up for you if you'd like." a pause, "Vodka, Volkan Spiced Rum, Drake Mountain Clear, Violet Bloom… might have some others." he inventories on his fingers.

"I said emergency beatz?" Imogen repeats herself, crossing her arms under her breasts to watch the man fight with his headphones. It brings a meager smirk to her lips. "And water with ice, if you could. I've tied too many on tonight."

Turning to follow, she slips her arms behind her back to make herself a shadow to the taller man in the direction of the kitchenette. Once again, she turns to take inventory of his belongings and the little nicknacks along the way. "Nobles on shore leave throwing money around makes for good massages, but there was no way I was going to take it that far with the guy present." Imogen drawls, her head bobbling in what she isn't aware is an Old-Earth Indian nonsequitur custom. "I got the guy to get a massage from Lincoln, so after my massage there was some entertainment." She pauses. "So…what's going on?"

"Yes, I needed to mix something… I'm." He's aggitated, that's for certain. The way Sean walks, looks, stands, etcetera all spells aggitated - or giddy. He moves into his kitchenette and gets out two glasses, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Oh? Sounds nice." but finally he takes a breath and breaks into the whatever it is.

"So uh, that noblewoman I talked about. Well, there's a certain rumor going around she was seen recently seen naked in a forest with a young lord who was trying to dress her and got interrupted. Trailing that tidbit is another rumor that she's been recently spending lots of her time with that young lords younger brother." a pause for breath, "And all this time I thought perhaps it was family that was keeping tabs on her such that she couldn't sneak away. That perhaps it was them trying to convince her that companionship with me wasn't a good idea since she's technically a royal." he shakes his head, "No, I find out she's been off spending her whiles with other men."

Sean hands over the glass with water, "Four months, Imogen. I saw her once in four months and it didn't go well." a sip of his own water, "Then just yesterday evening and night, my sister blind date sets me up claiming an emergency. Turns out she was setting her /model/ friend of hers up as well."

Mouthing a thanks as she takes the glass of ice water, Imogen leans against an island in the kitchenette to listen to her story. Bending at the waist slightly, her elbows grace the tabletop and her hip turns into the side of the furniture. Toes tapping, she pulls out her tablet to type something while she listens.

A sip later, she sets her tablet down and looks up to Sean's face. Her raven-black bangs fall over one of her eyes and she flashes a wicked smile.

"So this model friend," Imogen replies, head canting to one side a bit. "Did you sleep with her?"

"Yes and no. Yes in that I spent the night, no in that we didn't have sex. What's getting me is, though, is that I want Racquel more than I want the noblewoman. And I don't have remorse for it either." Sean pauses, now quite unsure of how or why that sounds like an issue at this very moment. Then is strikes him, "I haven't officially broken up with the noble. Like I said, we haven't seen each other… or more correctly, she hasn't taken time to see me and I don't know where in Haven she is." he sighs, "I suppose my emergency is a moral one, and ethical dilemma from a man who doesn't want to do to someone what's been done to him. Do I need to try and find the noble? Tell her we're through? Or do I just leave it as it is and see about going after Racquel?"

"Sean…Sean…Sean." Imogen tsks, her tongue clucking over her teeth. The glass is lifted to her painted lips and she sips, careful to avoid the ice sloshing down the neck of the glass and into her teeth. She sets the class down and tee-pee's her fingers over the top, giving it a gentle spin. "Do you remember when I told you a long time ago that you might be able to get a girl but you don't know a hell of a lot about them?" Imogen pauses, giving a little hrmm? before she continues.

"One." Imogen starts ago, holding up a manicured fingernail. "Women are trouble and women lie. This girl was spotted with other men and naked with another noble? Why the fuck would you even care at this point? Even if she's not fucking them, it's been months and there's no communications outage, right? She's a noble, she's out of your reach, at best you'd be her Companion-boy until she's married off and even then you could be butted out by her husband-to-be. You're a techie. Do some math."

"Two." She holds up another finger. "You told me you wanted to bang your roommate, and then you told me you wanted to bang this model girl. She's not calling, they're available. You seeing the trend here?"

"Three…" Imogen grins darkly, picking up the glass and threatening to splash him with the cold water. "I fucking told you that if you said it was an emergency that it had better be an emergency and you called me with girl problems? If you'd woken me up for this I'd be looking through your drawers for something to stab you with, Sean." She laughs a little. It's good she's had a fun night and a few drinks in her. "Sean? Seriously. Gift yourself and sleep around a little. If noblegirl wants to hang around she'll call. You're an adult, not a teenaged after-school-special."

Sean looks down into his glass for a long time, listening to everything and then nodding slightly. "I'm sorry for dragging you out here this late… you're welcome to crash here for the night. I can walk you to the Ways or wherever in the morning on my way to work." he shifts slightly, "When I was a teen, I was scrawny and bullied in school. A nerd of the worst kind, socially inept and they knew it." a pause, "In my now ten years of being sexually available, I've had three partners and there were two girls I just messed around with." he shrugs slightly. Shifting in his place a moment he looks up then, "I've never really been confident enough to just sleep around."

"Oh, and this /is/ an emergency. You're probably going to kick my ass and I need you to save me from you." he smirks slightly, "Actually, I just needed you to slap me in the face and tell me to wake the fuck up but I didn't want this out in public. A fangirl caught me while I was on the date with Racquel. I scared me shitless that they might make the connection between Sean Thanesson and Schizoid."

Turning the glass around one more time, the clear cylinder of ice water truly has no twelve o'clock, so it couldn't be said how many times she's spun it. Still, Imogen listens and shifts her weight to her other hip, nearly interrupting at the end of her words. "You're right I am going to kick your ass, Sean." Imogen grins to him, shaking her bangs back in front of her eyes. It's a joke. "If it would make you feel better; I know it'd make me feel better, I could actually slap you." Her fingers curl into a miniature tiger's claw with black, varnished fingernails.

Looking up to the ceiling, Imogen's eyes trace the track lighting as her bangs fall to her cheek. Her smirk fading into a frown, she lets a puff of air towards the ceiling. With a downward snap of her head, her bangs fall back into place. "Sean? Look, I was the geek too. I know the territory. I don't do warm fuzzies, I don't date, and I don't sing campfire songs. Not giving a fuck isn't a lack of a parachute. It's the parachute. The less you care that these girls see a difference between Schizoid and Sean Thanesson, the less you're actually being yourself. Whichever one of these girls you end up with?" Imogen's brow arches. "Just shut up, look cute, be the man in the bed, and you should do fine. You're going to be an idiot. Girl's expect it. Pay more attention to her than you and stop giving real estate to dumb cunts if you're looking for a steady thing."

There's a chuckle at the joke and Sean takes a drink. "I don't want to be Schizoid anymore…" that admission drops off and he turns around. "Trix, play Synergy file Pong." "Yes Sean, playing now." (http://youtu.be/cNAdtkSjSps) A high pitched pinging starts with a slight pitch variance to it creating a melody. Quite quickly a beat picks up, and it continues with a pretty solid rhythm. Sean bops slightly to it, a natural instinct for him now after all these years.

"I started a new project, or was going to start a new project…" a heavy sigh, "I don't know, I just don't want the name Schizoid any more. He was there to keep me afloat, to help me deal with being bullied and get through a rough childhood and teenhood. Early adulthood too."

Nodding her head gently in time with the beat, Imogen closes her eyes to go into that headspace where she can decide if she likes what she hears. The muscles in her neck slacken and she bobs her head with a big more swagger before it suddenly stops and turns towards him. "What the fuck is it about guys and waffles lately, Sean? Lincoln tries like all fuck to get me to eat waffles, and you? I'm surprised your turntables aren't two giant sized waffles for you to waffle over while flipping that switch to waffle back-and-forth between your two waffles."

Quickly downing the last of the water, she lets an ice cube fall into the palm of her hand and she throws it at Sean's hip. Hard.

"It sounds good, Sean." Imogen turns to leave, leaving the glass behind in her wake as she saunters towards his door. "No one's going to fuck with me on my way out, and I wanna know when you're going to DJ next. I'd dance to this. Just…be careful alright? I'm about ready to start bullying you in your adult life, too." The middle finger is playful in nature, but she still gives him the bird.

"Waffles?" Sean asks, a slight tilt of his head, "You should eat those waffles, I visited the Nirvana once after we met and I heard a rumor his are the best." a smirking grin. "I just don't know if I want to DJ anymore, I love it more than I love… well almost as much as I love sex." he shrugs again. When you start to leave he hms softly, "Sure you don't want me to walk you at least part of the way? Or just wait till morning? You'd have my room all to yourself and I have a change of clothing you could have so it doesn't look like a walk of shame if you meet someone on the way home."

"No, you cannot walk me partway home, then you might follow me the rest of the way." Imogen growls, her head shaking as she nears the door. "And no I won't stay here, my bed at home is otherworldly. Besides, what happened to your roommate, Sean? Does that mean I get to sleep with that chick?" A giggle sounds from her lightly drunk lips as she waves at the console, trying to bring the blue face of enter/exit back into view. "Go. To. Bed, Sean. Sleep it off and go get waffles with Lincoln in the morning. I'm going to sleep off this drunk and sleep in till two." She looks back to him, fingertips twittering in a little wave. "How the fuck do I get out of here?"

Sean shrugs and shakes his head. "Trix, would you be so kind?" "Certainly, thank you for coming Miss Imogen. According to Sean's Protocols for your name, please take this access card. It will provide you with the ability to enter and exit whenever there are no pressing security measures in place." The doors slide open and the lift is waiting for you.

"One note, you'd not sleep with Eden. The room would be yours privately, if Eden weren't staying at my sisters right now she'd sleep out here with me." a pause, "And I don't want to follow you home. You said it's your private sanctuary, I just want to make sure you get part of the way there safely."

Taking the access card into her fingers, Imogen's brown eyes turn back to the man as she waves the card in the air. "You just fucked yourself, Thanesson." Her grin is…probably a bad thing. "I've got an access card to raid your fridge, and when you're out of town you're going to come home and find strangers passed out all over the place HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING FROM ME?"

With a laugh, she salutes Trix with the card and slips out the door. "See you around, Sean."

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