Mirror Man

This day is too quiet.

I guess that’s true. But what could we do that would be worth my while?

I don't know, you know the town better. What do you like to go do? I've already told you how much I love being weird in stores.

#convo #tina

Apparently it's a crime to stand next to the guys' locker room.

That new redheaded guy with the spiky hair. I don’t know his name.

#convo #quinn #ooc: artie may or may not know who she's talking about and may or may not be planning to do somthing...#^_^

Okay.

I'm very excited.

Well okay, cool then. And if I make a batch I’ll be sure and share them with you. Awww, I bet you were hyped up on a sugar rush after that! This is true, no impulse control as a child, Then again, it’s not much easier as you get older. So would you declare yourself a chocoholic then?

Great! No… so long as you don’t make fun of me for taking them.

Thans but no need, I have the recipe myself remember? Sooo hyper. I can guarantee you that my impulse control when it comes to dem brownies has not much improved! I guess yes, I would have to say I am.

I won't! I really want to see them. And I save the lighthearted teasing for once I know someone better.

Apparently it's a crime to stand next to the guys' locker room.

I have a slushie stained scarf to prove it.

You okay? Who was it?

I'm very excited.

Well I guess that could work too… so long as you don’t mind sharing your secret? Oh yeah, so much fun, aha. Aw, you’re sweet! Not necessary though! As much as I loved them, I can only eat so many at a time.

I do too. I could shown you some of the photos if you wanted sometime.

Oh it's no big family recipe type of thing or anything so nah, I wouldn't mind sharing it. Preach! Once when I was a kid, my mom made up a whole bunch for a family thing and I ended stuffing my face. Wasn't a great night after that. I just have no control when it comes to dem yummy brownies!

Cool! I'd love to see them! You wouldn't mind?

This day is too quiet.

Archie…! Oh yeah, how could I forget that super cool comment? I guess we could though… I mean, it’s better than sitting at home alone right?

I think we could have loads of fun. No need to get bored or lonely when ya got potential pals around.

#convo #tina

This day is too quiet.

Eerily so. As has been this weekend. I need a party or to go out or something. I’m dying over here.

Or there’s always my parents’ liquor cabinet.

Lady Tee! We should hang sometime. 'member I told ya I'm a hoot?

#convo #tina

I'm very excited.

Well I guess maybe I did. They were amazing though and now I want more… I may possibly be addicted, even. Yes… well, I told him that you’re Artie Abrams, a sports’ guy… that I’m not dating you but that I think you seem same enough. Then he proceeded to steal one of my brownies. So that was fun.

Yeah well, I’m a very observant person. Good to medium bad— so then you’re basically the best of both worlds.

You did, no doubt. Uh oh, I'll try to help you out as much as I can - or just give you the recipe so you can supply yourself. Ahaha! Sounds like a great father daughter talk. Next time I ought to make two batches, one for you and one as a decoy so he don't eat all your brownies!

I've realized. Oh yes, I'd very much like to think so!

I'm very excited.

They were delicious, so thank you. Yeah… well you know: "Who was that guy? Are you dating him? You didn’t tell me about any guy. Is he nice? He’s not a rebel is he?" And on and on and onnnnn. Typical dad. No problem.

Thank you. Oh of course it does! I like that answer, though I’d say mischievous is more in the middle, wouldn’t you?

You're certainly welcome. you definitely deserved them. Oh really now, and how did you answer his barrage of questions?

You're welcome. I didn't know that, huh. Sure, I'd say that'd probably be accurate. So see? Not bad at all - just good to medium bad.

I'm very excited.

Yeah, you are… that was pretty smooth of you to deliver them at work and everything. My father asked about a million questions. You’re welcome; and I know, but I really do have a ton of them, it’s no biggie.

It just makes it easier that way. I certainly haven’t forgotten, I just try not to focus on it. Well, okay… I’ll give you one— you have a great smile. One of those ones that makes me wonder if you’re up to good or bad.

I thought so. Oh yeah? What kind of questions? Okay, but still, thanks.

No, of course not. I get that. Hmmm. That shows through then? I'd say I'm always up to good, just sometimes more... mischievous.

I'm very excited.

Mhmm, I feel like you’re just trying to buy time here. You can keep it, I have plenty. Well, as lovely as having brownies in the bathroom sounds… I guess the work thing could do… or you could just meet me at my locker? You don’t have to! I’ve really been kidding, though I won’t turn them down if you do bring some.

It was, and well, yeah… it is. I just try not to think about it too much. Hmm, I don’t know. Should I?

See? Man of my word. And thanks for the shirt, though you really didn't need to let me keep it.

I guess I'd prolly do the same myself, in your place. Uhmm. Yes?

Icy Sweetness || Quartie

Though she hadn’t actually spoken to Artie in person - only online - Quinn felt a connection with the guy, or at least, they had built up a bit of a rapport. She didn’t always offer her help to anyone standing there in slush, mostly just her friends, but he was new and seemed alone and had always been nice to converse with. Trying to put her shyness aside, she took the boy’s hand and lead him to the empty restroom to help him clean up. “Don’t worry, no one ever uses this one— that’s why it’s so clean,” she assured, sensing Artie was a little weary to be in the ladies’ room in the first place. She began pulling supplies from her bag, including a spare t-shirt and towel amongst them. It wasn’t like she hadn’t taken a slushie hit (or several). Since the initial one though, she had always come prepared. Nodding sadly as she reached for the cloth and began to wet it beneath the faucet, Quinn gave a soft glance in his direction. “It happens quite often— way more than it should anyway,” she answered, ringing the towel out a bit before gently using it to clean off his face. Not wanting to get it in his eyes - his mesmerizing blue eyes - (that was the worst), she delicately swept over his cheeks, slowly but surely getting off most of the grape residue.

Further questioning why this had happened, Quinn listened carefully, the jocks having mentioned something to do with a ‘gleek’ definitely burning in her ears. “Well okay,” she smiled gently as he turned down her offer for a ride. “If you change your mind though just let me know.” Running the towel through brunette locks and rinsing it every so often, she managed to get quite a bit of the slush from his hair. “Yeah, sadly most of them don’t have much going on up here,” she tapped her temple in reference to her head, “So instead they they fight fire with… well, ice,” she mused. “Usually though it’s only with the glee club, or really bizarre students; I still don’t understand why you were targeted, or why they called you a gleek. Have you been hanging around the choir room lately, or considered joining? They watch out for that— for new victims. As desperate as it sounds.” Artie had picked up on her comment about not everyone at McKinley being terrible, and as he smiled at her and pointed out she was one of the good ones, she reciprocated the smile, even if she turned away to hide her blush. “Thank you. I’d like to think so.” Then he was thanking her as she cleaned the rest of the slushie from his features, causing hazel eyes to meet his blue ones softly. “You’re welcome, Artie, it’s really okay; I don’t mind at all. I just hate that you got slushied,” she spoke gently, fixing his hair a little with her fingers, though her gaze was still stuck on his. “If any guy could pull off purple, it’d be you.”

Apparently though, she’d missed a little spot in the process; it now running into Artie’s eye and causing him a little pain. “I’m sorry,” she winced as well, again retrieving her father’s t-shirt from her bag as he continued rinsing the sting. “Unfortunately not; trust me. But you can wear this… don’t think I’m about to let you walk out of this restroom in that soaked shirt to wear all day long. I promise, it’s a guy’s shirt.” Tossing it onto the counter, the blonde turned her back to him, allowing Artie a chance to change in privacy. Maybe she considered peeking, but that was rude, and she would be mortified if caught. “Oh yeah, I get slushied every now and then,” she shrugged, still not turning around until he’d given her the all clear that he was dressed. “What gave it away? My expert cleaning skills, or my bag of supplies?” she joked, chuckling lightly and tapping her fingers against thighs patiently. She didn’t want to bring up how the jocks had ruined one of her favorite blouses— it had belonged to her mother, from the sixties, and was totally retro and something Quinn had adored. She’d been left it in her mother’s passing, but one day it had met the fate of a cherry slush and was completely destroyed. “After a while it’s not so bad.”

Artie frowned at the idea of this being a common thing at McKinley but let it fade as Quinn gently wiped at his face and hair. He didn't really know how to answer her questions as he didn't understand why he - or anyone - would be slushied but did his best. The answer didn't seem to please her but she kept moving and then offered him a ride home. "Thanks, I will but I'm sure I'll be perfectly alright." He was starting to find that he enjoyed her smile. It was beautiful, as was she, but it was just so warm. And infectious. He chuckled at her words about the jocks, feeling it was probably fairly accurate for most of them. Then she asked about glee club and he could only shrug with a shake of his head. "No, not that I know of. And, as superficial as it may sound, I've heard the club isn't the most popular so I'm staying away from it for now. Not that I have anything against it, just..." He rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, oddly aware of her and not wanting to make the wrong impression. "I just don't want too much attention on me - good or bad. I don't know anyone really and I'm just tryin' ta get the lay of the land." He gave another shrug, feeling a little pathetic for it.

"Well I can confirm that you are," he grinned as he thanked her. Anyone who would help a -mostly- stranger clean slush off their face was certainly a very kind and generous person. He let out a loud laugh at her comment about him being able to 'pull off purple'. Straightening up, he put his hands on his hips, a grin on his face, and struck a pose. "Really? Think so?" Chuckling, he let his smile soften until some sugary juice ran in his eye. He waved off her apology, it was no way her fault - without her he's sure both his eyes would be flooded with purple liquid. As he straightened back up from rinsing his eye out, he sighed at her answer but nodded in understanding. When she offered him a shirt he was grateful, his shirt would not exactly allow a comfortable rest of the day. "Thank you, it's great. I'd have taken anything," he chuckled and watched her turn around. Pulled off his shirt, he let the purple-stained fabric slap into the sink with a cringe. He grabbed up the towel to quickly wipe down his chest so it wasn't as sticky before going for the shirt she'd tossed him. He found himself moving a bit hastily as he stuck his arms through the shirt and tugged it over his head. Perhaps he ought to be a bit more use to being partially undressed -and more so than he was now- around women but that was different. And she was a fellow student. And a very nice and pretty girl and... he was a modest person at heart, despite his job.

"Okay," he gave the clear as the fabric slipped down his torso. He looked back to her and frowned at her reply. "I'm sorry, Quinn. You shouldn't have to get use to something like this. No one should." He jumped off the counter, the shirt falling fully and situating over his frame. "Comfortable." Looking it over, he glanced back up at her. "This where you work then?" he gestured to the logo, not having actually read it before putting it on. Fidgeting slightly, unusually nervous and unsure what to say other than repeating his thanks repeatedly, he turned back the sink and picked up his shirt to examine it. Yeah, no saving it even from some weird tie-dye action or jacket over top but at least it was just a plain shirt, nothing he cared for too much. He rung it out nonetheless. "I suppose its still good material for rags, huh?" he mused then cleared his throat and turned, eyes back on her. "Thanks, Quinn. Really, I think I can get through the rest of the day comfortably now." He grinned, secretly deciding to ask some of the... nicer jocks what the slushies were all about more n depth. Maybe he can get them to stop throwing the stupid things at Quinn and the other poor glee kids. Or maybe he'd just get them daily.

#para: icy sweetness

Right, Right, Left || Sartie

Sam: The guy was nice about the accident, suggesting they call it even instead. Sam nodded, happy to do so... there were times when bumping into someone had led to one of the jocks at the school muttering something about 'the cripple', so this was a much better outcome all things considered. "Sounds like a good compromise, I'm in." The guy stopped and stared for a bit, studying Sam as if he knew him, and then asked flat-out if he did. "Errr, nope I don't think so." But then his exclamation, calling Sam "the dinobots guy" and everything clicked. They HAD spoken before, online. "Oh yeah, that IS me." Grinning as the guy, Artie, introduced himself and held out his hand, Sam reached over to shake it. "Pleasure to meet you Artie, I'm Sam. And yeah, we did didn't we? That was pretty epic if you ask me." It was nice to talk to Artie face to face now, Sam had enjoyed their conversation before and having more friends at school could only be a good thing.

Artie: Sharing a grin, Artie enthusiastically shook Sam's hand. Maybe he was a little over-excited but it had been awhile since he had actually spoken to anyone at length, in school or out. He may not be a social butterfly but that doesn't mean he didn't miss having friends. "I'd say so. But also apocalyptic," he laughed. "So, where ya headed? My class is right down there so I have some time to kill." he gestured down the hall before adjusting the book under his arm, hoping he wasn't coming off as odd or... needy or something.

#para: right right left

I'm very excited.

It’s Monday— where are my brownies, mister?

Thank you, I think so too. it’s alright… I was eight, so… it’s been a while. Oh yeah, it’s definitely interesting. Though I’d say there’s more than just that to you that’s intriguing.

#convo #quinn #ooc: ahahaha she's devious!

Okay so, I didn't actually see you at school today but I swear I have your brownies and your shirt. We should maybe meet at that bathroom at lunch or I could find your work and bring them to you there? I will go to the ends of the earth to bring you your much deserved brownies, m'lady!

Oh, that must've been tough. And I'm sure it still is at times. Okay... You gonna to tell me what else?

I'm very excited.

I’m hitting you up on Monday now, just so you know. Get to work!

Yeah well, they’re most idiots— thank you though. It does; it’s not like he forces me into it or anything. We are, we’re very close… especially since my mother passed away. Oh, okay, I was afraid you thought I was a weirdo or something. You’re welcome, and well, haven’t I already explained this?

#convo #quinn #ooc: lmao! that's just how brilliant you are!

Okay, no worries! You will not be disappointed!

Yeah, truth. That's good, it's cool to have that to bond with and just enjoy. Oh, I'm sorry... Can I ask when? Not at all. And yeah but it just doesn't really make sense to me. I guess it's the whole jock-with-a-brain thing that's interesting.

Icy Sweetness || Quartie

Quinn was in a good mood; glee rehearsals had gone rather well, and she was looking forward to a movie night with Sam that evening. Most weekdays of hers just dragged on; school, followed by work, and then the cycle rebooted the following day until the weekend arrived. There was a little skip in her step, one she couldn’t really give an explanation for; lately, everything around her seemed to be falling into place - she’d even felt as if she was becoming better friends with those she had been singing next to for a while now. Lugging her favorite camera over her shoulder in preparation to possibly capture a few shots on the way to her next class, Quinn exited the choir room, only to be met with a trail of purple slush— she’s almost stepped in it. Great, one of her fellow club members had been slushied by some meat-head jock… but as she thought back and realized that in her good spirits she’d been the first one to leave the room, couldn’t figure out who the victim was.

Hazel eyes followed the drippings around the corner, where she was met with the brightest set of blue eyes she’d ever seen— the ones that unmistakeably belonged to Artie Abrams. She didn’t understand why he’d been targeted; he wasn’t a member of the club - she wasn’t sure he was even much into singing. If anything, wasn’t he a fellow jock? Despite actually having a functioning brain. Softening as she approached him, Quinn’s hand rested along his upper back, one of the few areas that managed not to be drenched. “Hey Artie, are you okay? C’mon, I’ll come help you clean up and you can explain to me with happened.” Dropping her touch to find his hand, she didn’t even wait for a response before dragging him to the ladies’ room - her favorite one - for it was pretty ancient and therefore almost always abandoned. “Take a seat,” she directed, still keeping her voice gentle as her hand patted the long sink counter-top before digging into her backpack. She didn’t have a complete outfit for him to change into, but hoped that maybe one of her over-sized Fabray Lubes and Tire tees might do until he’d be able to go home.

"I don’t really understand," she sighed, grabbing an unused gym towel from her bag and began to carefully blot some of the mess from his face. "They do this to the glee kids, but not… not your kind. Who did this? Did they explain themselves?" she carried on, blushing a little as realization dawned on her that she was becoming an ultimate chatterbox. Usually fairly shy, Quinn just felt easy to talk to the boy. "I’m really sorry Artie, do you need a ride home or anything? I don’t mind skipping class— it’s not like I don’t have straight A’s," she smiled, giving a little shrug she she continued wetting the cloth and moved on from his handsome features to focus on removing the sticky from his hair. "Sadly, our school has an odd way of welcoming students…" she trailed, nearly apologetically. "But I hope you know that not everyone here is an animal." Briefly, her eyes locked with his before she averted them bashfully and concentrated on getting him cleaned up.

Artie was surprised to see Quinn walk around the corner. He hadn't managed to think up a response before she was leading him away so he just let her. They had talked and he'd definitely seen in the halls -it was hard to miss the decidedly pretty blonde- but he never knew how to approach her before. This wasn't exactly the ideal way to first meet; soaked and sticky with grape flavored slush running in his eyes. As he was lead by the hand, he rubbed at his eyes and tried to keep from more gunk stinging them. He was pulled into a bathroom and would have objected to it being a girls bathroom, not wanting to get in trouble, but figured if she lead him there is must be alright. Feeling awkward and well, cold, he just silently did as she had instructed and hopped up onto the counter. He really didn't know what to do in this sort of situation. It seemed you could get a brain freeze just as easily from having a slushie thrown in your face as from drinking one too fast.

As she dug through her, pulling out items and starting to talk, Artie was started wondering if she always had these things on hand. Was this a common thing? For her? She started to clean his face and he just watched her; let her help him. At her questions, he became both confused and concerned, his worries sounding accurate. "You mean this happens a lot? I mean, I'd heard about people getting "slushied" but I never knew what it was. I definitely didn't think it was actually being slushied," he motioned to himself. "They said something about 'a gleek's life'? I don't know." Shrugging, he eased into his seat on the counter. "No, I'll be fine, you really don't have to. I mean, thank you but I can manage being a little sticky for the rest of the day." He gave her a grateful smile as she moved onto his hair. "Ya said it. I really can't believe they throw slushies at people." Making a face as it was such a bizarre and harsh thing to do, Artie turned his gaze back to her. "I do know. I'm with one of the good ones right now." A soft smile as their eyes met and he felt lighter at the way she shyly turned away. "Really, thank you though. I don't think I've said that yet. I probably would've still been stood in the hall like a dunce. And it's just really nice of you to help me get cleaned up and everything," he spoke sincerely, looking directly at her as he spoke. It was really touching really, that she'd stop what she was doing to help him out and how kind her words, and gentle her movements were.

An errant trickle of syrup dripped into his eye, making him wince slightly and blink rapidly. "Stings a little," he laughed in explanation as he moved from her hands, bending over the sink to splash some water in his eye to clean it out. The movement though reminded him of his soaked shirt; whatever remaining ice there had been, now melted and spreading the stain. He sighed. "This stuff doesn't come out, does it?" he asked as he picked at the shirt. The material clinging to him and slapping back against his chest sickly as he let it go, discouraged. He really didn't want to be spending his money on new shirts for himself. But maybe he can take Eddie and Lilly with his next paycheck to get them a few things as well as a pack of cheap shirts if this happens often... He blinked and then looked back up to seemingly study Quinn a moment. "Wait... do you get slushied a lot?" He finally asked the question that had been flitting in and out of his head since she'd pulled out that towel. The thought of her in his currently grape-splattered shoes made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

#para: icy sweetness

I'm very excited.

Agreed. Good, because I could go for some chocolate about now.

Well, I don’t know, most of the school, I guess. They think it’s weird, but it’s sort of a fun job, plus I’m good at it. Stop cheating, Arthur! But yes, that type of mechanic— my daddy taught me. It really is, and can be very convenient at times. Oh… well that’s good, I was starting to worry that I creeper you out, or something, I promise I’m not a stalker, I just… appreciate things. You are, definitely. My camera loves you.