2011 06 08: Breaking The Boy

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Mission report found.

Mission Name: Breaking The Boy
Date of Mission: June 8, 2011
Locale: Big Apple Comics

As promised, Mimi shows up for she and Foster's date. The two have a surprisingly nice time.

Foster Mimi

It's just around the time when Mimi said she'd meet Foster at the comics shop. She does in fact show up, looking like she belongs more at the premiere of a film instead of in a veritable nerd cave. She wears a slinky black dress with spaghetti straps and high heels that lace up to her knees. Her hair is gathered in a chignon and her makeup is applied rather flawlessly. It's clear that she's going for a bit of va va voom tonight to knock the poor nerdling who she can barely remember anything about on his ass. She begins to look around for someone whom she might recognize, a staunch look of determination on her face as she scans the crowd and mentally beats herself for having blacked out again…

Foster, well, he pretty much looks like he did last night and the night before, just with a different picture on his T-shirt. He might have made an effort to dress up, but he realized he doesn't really own anything except for one ill-fitted suit that only gets dragged out for functions he's forced to attend at the museum. He thought about wearing that, but then even he realized he'd look ridiculous. As it is, he showed up quite some time ago, but then got worried he'd look too desperate if he just hung around the front of the store watching through the window. But then he became worried that she might leave if he made her wait, so within moments of her showing up, he comes lurching out of the back area in an ungainly fashion, at least managing not to trip over his tongue on the way. "I- Uh. Hi. Hey. Hello. Uh. Mimi," he greets her in disjointed fashion.

"Hi." Mimi says in a careful fashion, sizing Foster up once more. Oh, wait. Now she remembers — okay, yeah, this guy. "You look… nice tonight. We should find a table or something to sit at." Fragments of last night start to bleed their way back into her brain and she slowly nods. "I read that comic I got! Err, well…" Mimi looks momentarily as if she's confused and embarrassed herself. She didn't specify about the dirty one, did she? "…Uh. I read some of them, I mean. Mostly the Archie ones. It was sad that he was torn between two women for all of eternity and his best friend was a total moron. So very tragic, you know? But I digress. He could have removed himself from the situation at any time." She lets Foster lead the way. Yes, she's actually going to attempt to make him feel manly and everything.

Foster looks down at himself with a look of discernible confusion as she compliments the way he looks tonight. Did he wear the suit after all? And no one's even ever called that nice… But Mimi is still talking, so he quickly puts aside his wonderment to look back to her. "A table? Uh, yeah. Okay. They have some for gaming downstairs. Not that I, uh, do that much, but I've been down there and there are tables. I don't think they'd mind if we… sat at them." He makes an actual effort to stop rambling this time, and only then realizes that she's waiting for him to lead. "Oh! Right. It's, um, it's this way." He begins to head in that direction. "And there are… there are worse things than being caught between two women. I mean, I assume so. I, uh, I mean…" Trailing off, he begins to descend the steps.

Mimi follows after him, grinning at the back of his head as he stammers himself into oblivion. "I don't know. I guess so. Have you ever been caught between two men?" She asks him before she scantly holds back a chortle. "Not that I have. Just saying, in your case, I think that might be a worse option. So you're right. There are worse things than being caught between two women." She looks around the basement once they've descended and puts her hands on her hips. "This is less posh than I'm accustomed to, but I suppose this was my bright idea…" The last bit is murmured underneath her breath. She makes her way over to a table and waits patiently for her chair to be pulled out for her. "I can't believe that people actually come to these places to play games with each other. But I guess it's better than out in the street. So… didn't I ask you to tell me about your favorite comics or something?" Seriously, Mimi has no frickin' idea — but she's guessing from past experiences that it was something along these lines.

"What?" Foster asks, turning about and nearly falling down the stairs in the process. "No, uh. Nothing like that. I- Uh- I was thinking more like … no women or, uh, I don't know. Something like that." He tugs his shirt straight as he steps into the basement room, familiar enough with the space that he doesn't even need to look around. "You, uh. You wanted a table, and it's … the only one they have. We could go somewhere else, but I … don't really know where." Even if she seems resigned to her fate, he babbles away trying to apologize for bringing her someplace not posh enough, which he didn't even realize was a thing. It takes him a few moments to recognize what she wants him to do, and then he nearly falls again in his haste to get over and yank her chair out from the table, hovering nearby since he doesn't know what to do next either. "Oh. Right. Um. Well, there's… There's the superhero ones. X-Men, Spiderman, Batman, Superman, you know… And then there's some indie ones that, uh, they tend to be… deeper, I guess?"

When Foster finally gets the picture and pulls the chair out for her, she sits down in it and smiles at him. "Thank you." She pushes it in herself to get him off the hook. Whatever nervousness endereared him to her last night is making her somewhat annoyed tonight, though she does a good job at hiding it. "Here is fine. I'm a little cold down here though. I should have brought a jacket… dumb of me. Of course everywhere is going to be cranking their AC." She wraps her arms around her chest as if to demonstrate that yes, it's really cold in here. She listens to him with… something that might be actual interest, finally pursing her lips in consideration. "Oh? What sort of indie ones?" Mimi asks.

Poor Foster has no idea he's annoying her - then again, the knowledge would just fluster him worse, so it's probably just as well. He hovers for a moment after she sits, and then finally realizes he should do the same, picking a chair kitty-corner to hers so that he's close but not too close. "You can- You can have my shirt, if you want. Uh, this one, I mean," he clarifies, indicating the button up shirt worn over his T-shirt. "I know it's cliche, but then maybe it's cliche for a reason because guys do seem to wear more layers than women, and uh. Anyway, you can wear it, if you want." He assumes she's not going to want it though, and so waits before making any move to take it off. "Oh, well there's, um, there's Scott Pilgrim - which, I mean, it's kind of obvious now that they made a movie, but it's still good. And there's, uh, there's Local and Mouse Guard… Red Sonja… Strangers in Paradise…" He starts reeling them off, like he could just keep going forever.

The offer of the shirt off of his back makes Mimi's brows raise. She shakes her head a little bit and then laughs. "Wow. You're… actually really a gentleman. Okay. Thank you." She says, offering her hand out to him for his button up shirt. "Thanks. That's… sweet of you." Mimi actually looks touched for a fraction of a second. She grins at him as he goes onto explaining. She seems markedly less annoyed — not that Foster probably notices any change in temperment. "I've never heard of any of those. Maybe you could show me sometime. I'll have to have you over to my apartment… you mentioned something about bugs, right?" Mimi asks him. Yeah, she remembers that part of it all. "So where are you originally from?"

Foster is a little surprised when she consents to wear his K-Mart button down, but he scrambles to comply, quickly divesting himself of the garment so he can offer it across. "I, uh. Well, I just- I don't want you to be cold," he explains, although he's not sure why he's trying to talk himself out of being called a gentleman. "I mean, um. You're welcome." Yes, just leave it at that, Waldo. "Sure, I could- I could show you. I've got them all, uh, back home. And they have them here, of course. But you don't have to buy them that way. Not that it seems to be a problem for you, but I'd still want to read a few first to see if I liked them…" He trails off as it sinks in she just kind of invited him back to her place, and he goes a bit red. "And, um. Yes. There's- There's bugs. That I work with. And keep. But you told me not to talk about that. And I wouldn't bring them," he assures her. "I'm from, um, Illinois. And then I went to school up-state. And now I'm here. Are you- I mean… Did you always live here?"

Mimi slips the shirt on and wraps it around herself, rubbing at her arms. She does actually seem to be genuinely cold rather than just testing him to see if he'd relinquish the garment. She licks her lips and listens to him for a long few moments as he stumbles over hsi words. "Good. Don't bring the bugs." She says to him, grinning briefly. "Illinois, huh? Long way from home. Do you miss it?" Mimi for once seems… actually interested in a male suitor. There's a pause. "Yes, I've lived here all my life. My mom's from Georgia though. My dad's family has roots in Rhode Island. My dad's in politics, so I've been a lot of places. It's alright, I guess." There's something in Mimi's tone that says she doesn't really care for travel however. Or perhaps it's the politics.

"Check. No bugs," Foster replies with a twitchy grin of his own, almost managing to sound like a regular human being for a moment. It won't last. "And… I guess, um, I guess I miss parts of it, but not really. My brothers are kind of, um, psychotic and my mom's pretty, uh…" He searches for the right word. "Intense. It's, uh, it's good to have some distance, you know?" For all his yammering, he does do a decent job of listening when she talks. "Well, uh, politics… That's pretty, um, that's pretty intense too I guess," he replies, clearly out of his depth on that subject. "I haven't really been many places myself. Just home, school and here. But I don't… I don't know if I'd want to go too many places. I, uh, I have enough trouble fitting in with the locals."

Slowly, Mimi scoots her chair over toward Foster's. She considers his answers for a long moment. "Older or younger?" She asks him. "How many? Psycho how?" If he's going to be chatty Kathy, she too can play twenty questions. "Yeah. My dad's a senator." Mimi just kind of drops that there and leaves it for him to pick up on. It's said casually enough. "If you don't have trouble fitting in with the locals, then go somewhere you will. It's just that simple. And I find it hard to believe that there's no one in New York that… you know, you don't have anything in common with. I mean, look at where we are. I bet these guys would be friends with you. And I bet there's all kinds of creepy bug guys out there too. You just have to look harder. But something tells me you're not an extrovert, are you?" Mimi asks, moderately rhetorically. She hides a grin that's trying to creep onto her face.

Foster gets that deer-in-the-headlights look again as she scoots closer, but he tries to keep the mounting oh-god-oh-god panic under control. Questions are helpful with this because they give him something to focus on - and yammer about - other than the fact that she's willingly getting closer to him. "Uh, they're uh, older. Two of them. Extremely violent and, uh… not really into, you know, education or reading or … intelligent thought…" There's not much love lost there, clearly. "A senator? Like in the, uh, the Senate senator?" he clarifies, appropriately impressed with that bit of news. He glances up at the ceiling when she mentions the guys here. "I… guess so. I don't really - do well… with people. I'm still not sure why you're talking to me," he admits.

Mimi furrows her brows a little bit, forcing unpleasant thoughts from her mind. "Sorry your brothers are dicks. Mine have always been… surprisingly nice to me." When they have no real reason to. She slowly reaches out and wraps an arm around Foster's chair, giving him the vaguest of squeezes before she tries to look as non-chalant as possible again. "Yeah, my dad is a New York senator. Man, you really must not keep up with the news…" Mimi sounds almost grateful for that, positive that if he did, he probably would have elected not to show up tonight given her few public scandals. When he says he's not sure why she's talking to him, she simply smiles. "This morning when I woke up I didn't know why I'd be here tonight with you… but now I do." And she doesn't elaborate on that for him.

"I'm, well, I'm glad you have nice brothers. How many do you have?" Foster asks, giving her a curious look which turns to something more flustered again as she gives him that squeeze - and yet he does seem to appreciate it, even if it makes him go red. "I, uh, I got better at … outsmarting them. So I - I did okay, but I just… didn't really want to stick around." He glances down at the table a moment and then back to her. "I … mostly just read, uh, comics and… scientific journals," he admits. "The news I read isn't- It's… Well, it's sort of unusual." Does it have to do with bugs? When she responds to his self-deprecating comment, he just stares for a long moment, having a bit of trouble processing that. Part of him wants to ask, but he's fairly certain it might cause his brain to meltdown - or burst his bubble. "I, uh… I- Good, then. I think."

"Two older brothers. Chip and Dalton." Her brothers have been the far less newsworthy children of the family, which probably pleases her parents. She furrows her brows even more when he mentions having to outsmart them before she laughs. "I'm sure you outsmart plenty of people." Hell, he's probably done it once or twice to her since they sat down, without even trying. She doesn't pry into his unusual news figuring that yes, it's about bugs. She reaches downward to take his hand into hers and give it a squeeze. "I kind of like you, Waldo Foster."

"Chip and Dalton. Those are, um, very nice names," Foster replies, swallowing a comment about just how rich they sound. Because clearly they are rich, and even he knows it would be a stupid comment. He gives a little grin to the compliment about outsmarting people, pleased, even if it does make him blush - and for once, he doesn't rush to downplay his own worth. But that could just be because he's quickly distracted by the double-whammy of her liking him and physical contact. He tries to say something in reply, but it just comes out in an incomprehensible sound.

Mimi nods a little bit. "I know. They're stuck up names. And we're stuck up. We are. It's not like a secret or anything. It's not even a jab. It's just… how we are. I mean, look. Ever since I was five I've known how our names sound. But please. I went to school with a girl named Muffy. Her brother's name was Heywood, and her sister's name was Peaches. Seriously. Peaches. So I guess it could always be worse. Grass is greener, and whatever." She laughs and watches him carefully when she clasps his hand. For a moment in time, Mimi is actually afraid that she's broken the poor chap. She stands up to leave then, pulling her hand from his. "So, Foster. What do you say we get together on Saturday night and you can bring some comics to my place? I'll order in." Because someone named Mimi Collinwood-Taylor most assuredly does not cook her own meals, or anyone else's.

"I didn't mean… I- my parents named me Waldo," Foster points out that he has no business making fun of anyone's name. "You just… Peaches? Really?" Okay, maybe he can find at least one person's name to make fun of. He clears his throat, trying to cover the fact that his voice broke slightly with his disbelief. She likes him, there's physical contact, and now what seems to really and truly be a date… Yeah, Foster is a little broken. Still having some trouble getting his words out, he nods several times in agreement, slowly at first and then more emphatically. "I- Yes. I'd like that," he finally manages.

"Good. Then it's settled. Saturday night, 8PM, my place. I live at the Opulencia. Google maps. You can't miss it. I'll buzz you in." She smiles at him and leans down to give him a kiss on the forehead. "You don't have to dress up if you don't want to. But I'm keeping your shirt until then. That way you have to come back, okay?" She asks him, sensing that this is new to him and he may be incredibly afraid, like a timid animal. She grins briefly at him and buttons a few of the buttons up around her chest. Damn, but it is chilly in this mofo. "I'll see you then. I hope you like Chinese food. I know a great place that delivers." Well, at least she's not above eating peasant food.

Foster nods a few more times to show that he understands these simple instructions as she's giving them. But the kiss to his forehead has rendered him tongue-tied again - she's not all that wrong about him being like a timid animal, and he really looks like a deer caught in the headlights right now. "Ch-Chinese is… I like, yes. Chinese," he manages in stammered reply, forgetting to tell her that she can keep the shirt if she wants to, although he can't really see why she would…

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