Ardette meets a tiny Bandito on her smoke break.
Outside of Le Conservatoire de STEP.
Ink stares at the blonde lady
Ardette blows out a stream of cigarette smoke. "Hello." B|
Ink "... Hi."
Ardette raises her eyebrows politely, like, welp, that was a text-book acceptable conversation, now what?
Ink skates around the lady with her hands on her hips. "Sooo what are ya? Mafia?"
Ardette walks forward a few slow paces, as Ink orbits around her. "I am enjoying a cigarette. There's no need to ask what you are."
Ink "I'm pretty sure it's obvious what I am... Your fashion sense is kinda like Mafia, but not..." Bm
Ardette almost looks delighted by the assumption; because clearly only Mafiafolk wear collared shirts. "Well, what do you think I am, then?"
Ink "Not flashy enough to be UG, not rugged like banditos. Probably a square then." She shrinks into her child body. "You gotta vibe?"
Huh. That's one Ardette's never seen before. Alright, a vibe for a vibe, then. She sighs out a gusty stream of smoke and looks down the sidewalk outside her studio. She flings her arm out sharply and then draws it into a nice 'fifth en avant' - litter flies into open trash cans, lids slap onto their cans with such force it sends them wobbling.
Ink raises her shades up to see the vibe in action. She glances back at the woman with a look of disbelief. "... You got a cleaning vibe??"
Ardette sighs and gives Ink a flat look, because she's gotten exactly that reaction before. "Order. I manipulate order, Miss... ah...?" She makes a vague twirling gesture with her hand and looks at her expectantly.
Ink "So it's sorta like a cleaning vibe, right. Pretty neat, I guess. Yeah, I'm Ink. And you're...?" She reaches a hand out for her to shake.
Ardette raises her chin slowly in a nod. "Ink." Right. Probably not her real name, but it'll do for now. "Bombaerts is fine," she says. She reaches out her cigarette hand, looks at it, then sighs and changes hands to shake her tiny hand properly.
"Bombaerts? Like a bomb, ka-boom?" Ink giggles. "Pretty sweet, you can make a cool code name with that. Like 'The Bomb' or something. 'Specially when you gotta confront some unfriendly people, like stuff."
Ardette glares at the space above Ink's head, because oh, yes, she's heard that one, too. "Right. I'll, euh... keep that in mind." She drops her cig to the ground and crushes it under her toe. "Excuse me." With a flick of her wrist, she sends the spent cig rolling into the gutter.
Ink 's eyes follow the path of the used cigarette into the gutter and raises her brows. "Okay, well I guess it's not quite like a cleaning vibe then. So any special uses for your vibe? Like, do you do some sort of business with it?"
Ardette suddenly wishes she hadn't dismissed her cigarette so soon, if only to have something to do with her hands. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"
Ink shrugs. "Yeah, that's just me. I'm a curious gal. And you're a new face, too. Usually I do a little pick-pocketing with strangers but consider yourself lucky today with the socializing instead." She skates around Bombaerts again and switches into her adult form.
Ardette supposes she'll just have to get used to the curiosity, coming out of hiding as she has. She walks back to her studio doors, Ink a green blur in her peripheral as she orbits her. "Oh, very lucky, yes," she says, distracted. "Euh, indulge me, 'Ink.' Is your true form this one, or the, ah..." She holds her hand, palm to the ground, and lowers it to hip level.
Ink puts her hands on her hips. "Meh, I don't really know. Treat me like an adult and I'll respond like one. Some times. Same the other way around." She grins. "Sometime's it's a convenience not knowing. Anddd sometimes not." She grumbles, thinking about Phoenix and his blabber-mouth.
Ardette scoffs out a short laugh. What a luxury it must be, to 'not really know' how old you are. She gets to her studio doors and turns the knob. Aaaand the familiar sinking feeling of realizing you've just locked yourself out. "Merde!" Ardette hisses. And then she glances at Ink. "...you're an adult right now, got it?"
"Imma adult, Imma kid, Imma be anything inbetween at anytime. Why d'ask?" Ink peers over the woman's shoulder, stares for a moment at the door, then curls her lips into a grin.
Ardette grumbles and kneels down so she's eye-level with the keyhole. "Because I'm about to set a terrible example."
Ink snorts. "I've thrown away my morals a loooong time ago, lady. Didn't I tell ya before that I love pick-pocketing? I'm pretty bad, haha."
Ardette presses her hand flat to the chipping paint above the keyhole. "Well, you're honest, at the very least." She takes a deep breath and stares intently at nothing in particular. She can feel the jagged outline of the cylinders in the lock at rest, it's a shape she can feel in her conscience, and under her fingertips, through the door. "Quoi, are you going to watch me while I do this?"
Ink glances at the lady's unusual method of unlocking the door. "No lock-picks, huh? Sure, it'll be interesting to see how you go about opening this your way." She crosses her arms and leans in to watch.
Ardette rolls her eyes. That wasn't an invitation, but not everyone appreciates the subtleties of sarcasm. "There isn't much to see," she says, shrugging a shoulder. But now she's got a bloody audience and she can't hear herself think. She finds the shape in her conscience again, toothed and ugly. She's still for a few moments, and then she suddenly tenses her hand. Cylinders slide cleanly into place, turning the plug, hitting the tumbler, and they both hear a satisfying click.
Ink gives an surprised look, impressed. "Wow, pretty neat! If I had an ability like that, I would... well, yeah." She shrugs it off. "So, you've done lock-picking stuff before then, huh?"
Ardette snaps her fingers triumphantly and gestures to the door. "See? Order." She pushes herself to standing and dusts her hands off. "Don't get your hopes up, I can only do this with locks I'm familiar with."
"Ah, but you can learn about different locks! I can teach ya!" But Ink stops herself in the middle of her excitement. "... Eeyyeah but I know you're not into the thieving stuff like I am. Just accidentally putting myself in your shoes there for a moment."
Ardette squints at her, this strange womanchildBandito thing. "That's... kind of you," she opens the door and mutters to herself. "In a strange, dishonest sort of way." But still kind. After all, Ink could have picked her pocket.
Ink only grins and shrugs. "That's the life, Lady Bomb. I come and I go and sometimes things end up different than usual."
Ardette turns around in the doorway and holds up a finger. "Alright. One, that's not my name. Two..." She tilts her head. "Ink isn't yours, is it? What is that short for?"
Ink lets out a short laugh. "Heh, sorry, 'Miss Bombaerts'," Ink shrinks into her kid body as she says that, holding her hands together apologetically, pouting her lips. She clears her throat, cutting the act. "WELL I don't like people using it much, but it's short for Inkyung. I don't use it cause I get the impression that people will treat me like a FOB."
Ardette frowns at her, but it's without much malice, as though Ink really was that apologetic child. What an annoying talent. "FOB?"
Ink sighs. "I hate using the word a lot, but it stands for 'fresh outta boat.' People from outta the country who arrive here with little to no english speaking experience. Like, 'can'tu speaku engrishu,' yknow?" This lady really is one of those refined types, probably doesn't know much about the slang used here, right?
Ardette honestly doesn't, and has the grace to look surprised. She winces and leans towards Ink a bit, nodding. "Considering when was the last time a boat came to this island... I think your terminology is a little obsolete. And nothing you should be worrying about."
Ink puts her hands up defensively. "Hey, I'm not the one who's sayin these things to other people. And you never know.. some families probably still can't speak english all that well since places have become so exclusive and all."
Ardette "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that. I'm just a square." Just a measly square, a square who happens to own property and a reputation, thankyouverymuch. So, it's probably not good to be loitering right next to her NO LOITERING sign. She stops before she closes the door in Ink's face. "Inkyung is a lovely name, and I think you should use it more often." NOW she can close the door in her face.
Ink stares at the door in surprise. Nobody has ever really said that before. Only a few people but... it was rare anyway. She scratches her head in slight embarrassment and turns to skate away.