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It's very disappointing.

It is. Not much of a selection.

I always thought it was such a nice sentiment... share a bit of where you are with someone.

I like that. Never thought of them in quite that way before.

Isn't that why there's a picture of the place?

Figured it was more of a 'miss you, see how pretty the beach is' kinda thing.

Oh.

I suppose that could be it, too.

Wha-what about singin' telegrams?

Maybe it's both.

What about them?

People might like them!

True. Cost a bit more than a postcard, though.

Could always try calling, sometimes a voice is better than a picture with the words "Wish you were here."

Well it's fa-fancier!

Perhaps it is!

Who is the last person you got a post card from?

[She's thumbing through a selection of postcards, all from different cities, and nothing local. Istanbul, Prague, Dublin. They might not be popular to write on and mail, but:]

Some people collect them.

Don't recall. Usually I send 'em.

Also true. Kind of a 'get what you pay for' deal.

If those are the words on the card. Maybe.

People collect a lot of things.

[ Not all of said things are as tame as a postcard. He gives a cursory glance to the stack in front of her. ]

[Her lips pull into a faint smile.]

Who are you looking to send a postcard to?

[She hesitates, looking up from Stockholm, head canted his way like she heard more of an answer than he gave her - paramilitary conditioning in the hard lines of her body and the blunt force of her full attention.]

What did you have in mind?

Edited 2014-05-23 23:48 (UTC)

This old friend of mine. Thought I'd let her know I was doing okay.

Think she can see that for herself.

[She's been behind the rack of postcards and pictures that were for sale this whole time they've been talking. Peering out from behind it she smirks.]

[ Oddly, he meant it in a perfectly innocent way. Some people collect postcards. Other people collect dangerous tropic fish. Johnny reaches down and flips through the next stack over, pulling out a fairly generic one from Texas, emblazoned with the state outline and a solo star. ]

Like this, but maybe a little more ... jazzy.

[If she's easy to put on edge, that's for her reasons. It mightn't have too much to do with what he intended. Some people collect guns, knives, infectious diseases. Some people collect other people.]

Watch what you say about Texas.

[She's a lot of things, but she's not Texan, so maybe that's a joke. Whoever designed that postcard wasn't aiming for jazzy.]

[ And some people collect souls. Well, 'people' may be a loose term when it comes to that kind of thing. He offers a half smile, choosing to take it as a casual jibe. ]

You saying Texas couldn't use a little? Or is Stockholm more your thing?

Be a shame to waste the card opportunity, though.

[ Roxanne folds her arms over her chest while shaking her head for a moment. Finally, she rounds the rack and moves over to him glancing at the selection that had been before him. ]

Never been big on postcards but, if you seriously still want to get one.

[ Let her pick it out, it'll be so much easier. ]

[She doesn't mirror the suggestion of a smile, but he's not wrong, and she's casual in her own way. For what it's worth, 'people' has had a very broad definition, in her mind, for a long time. She isn't sure she believes in the existence of the soul, but she sure believes in investigating eye-witness accounts about impossible, inhuman things.

But they aren't reading tarot here. She flips Stockholm around to the back of the stack, finding Guangzhou in the bunch, and holds it out to him. It's a standard city skyline, towering glass structures and a bridge.

Echoing his phrasing:] More my thing. [It shouldn't sound like a lie. Being completely honest, though, she doesn't have a favorite place.]

That your bike outside?

Do you travel far and often?

[ They’re on a similar mindset when it comes to the broadened definition of people. Or not-people, although Johnny’s little inner monster tends to take a dimmer, slightly narrower opinion when it comes to the rest of humanity. Which he’s technically not quite a part of anymore.

Rather than dwell on those thoughts, though, he takes a good look at the city. He’s been to a lot of them in his time, fans all over the world. That one reminds him a little of Seattle, except their ‘space needle’ doesn’t include a saucer. ]

That depends on which one you’re talking about. [ There’s more than one bike parked outside the tourist trap. Admittedly, his leather jacket goes better with the sleek black and grey model resting next to the trimmer Japanese ones. Still, circumstantial evidence. ] Mind being a little more specific?

Edited 2014-05-25 23:03 (UTC)

[ He shrugs, apparently content to just watch her, for now. ]

If I still want to get one -- what?

Sure. I'm a regular rolling stone.

[ She scours the rack for a moment. She had several questions she felt the need to ask him but, for now she just glanced over her shoulder at him. Her head giving a nod to the rack. ]

Let me pick it out, would take the guess work out of which one to pick.

[ An easy smile finds its way to her lips for a moment before her gaze shifts down to the tile floor under their feet. ]

[Her leather jacket doesn't go with a VTOL-capable Boeing C-17 Globemaster III, so it's a good thing she couldn't park that outside. It doesn't banish the suggestion of a uniform, either, compounding her off-duty servicewoman vibe.

She can't see the parking lot from here, so his answer is from her memory. He doesn't look like the neon-paint Kawasaki type, which leaves a couple tasteful Yamaha possibilities open. Or maybe not.]

Third from the right? [Does he remember where he parked? If she's wrong, that could be insulting. It's hard not to sense a test in a question like his, and it makes her think she should have a back-up plan. She sets the postcards down.]

Show me. [From someone else, that could sound coquettish. She's too old and too direct. It means what it means, not less or more. Motives are a separate question.]

Who do you send postcards to?

People I used to know.

Kind of ruins the surprise factor. Doesn't it?

[ It's a fairly consistent vibe, to be honest. Which means she's either military or a cop. Not that her occupation matters much in the long run, but Johnny tries to keep property damage to a minimum when he can. ]

I'm not a Yamaha kind of guy. Besides, they make better guitars.

[ And neatly sidesteps what sounds suspiciously like an order. ]

Kind of already ruined don't you think?

Used to know? You don't know them now?

[She's something close enough, and being herself is a good change of pace from infiltration and cover stories and pretending to be something else. She's not playing one of his fans, or a member of the press - although that would've give her a transparent excuse to ask questions. This is paradoxically simpler and trickier to execute.]

Want me to keep guessing?

[It just got a whole lot easier by process of elimination, but that's not the point. She doesn't miss his neat little conversational sidestep, and her slight frown's more thoughtful than deterred or annoyed.]

I'm better with planes.

[And not musical enough to know a Gibson Les Paul from a Fender Strat.]

No. I mean, if you did, it would be more for the amusement factor than anything else.

[ She's too neat, too aware of her surroundings. The lady wants something. Johnny isn't sure if it's only information she's after, or something a little more tangible. He hopes it's the first. It gives him some leverage on whether or not to give anything away.

The latter is a bit more tricky, and far less preferable. ]

We all have to be good at something.

[ He's crushed at her lack of musical knowledge. ]

So what is it you want, lady?