aviary | OPEN | prompt one

[ even as a little boy even had never been a fan of the rain. it always meant that he had to go inside (stop playing or you'll catch your death) and there was always a bit of sadness each time he did. he supposes that perhaps that's the reason he never likes it now (he's not a psychologist, but it makes sense to him).

he needs to leave the labs though, if he doesn't he'll be stuck missing a party or something that someone is throwing and he can't afford it. sure, he knows he's practically a commodity (better than half of the luxuries in his mind) himself in terms of being useful, but that doesn't mean shit when people are about as trustworthy as snakes.

his frown deeps as he ponders for a moment before he heads to the door, grabbing an umbrella on his way out. it opens with minimal fuss once he's out but it doesn't stop him from saying two words that undoubtedly anyone near him will hear. ] Fucking rain.

[ at the curse, jolie's eyes cut sideways, gaze landing on the umbrella before she even looks at evan's face. there's a half-second of consideration before she clears her throat. ]

You got room for one more under there?

[ because asking strangers for a favor is something jolie doesn't like, but she likes the idea of getting soaked through outside even less. her expression is hopeful, even if the look in her eyes is nervous. she can't exactly place his face, but she's certain he's someone more important than she realizes. it's too late to take the request back, so all she can really do is hope she hasn't overstepped herself too badly. ]

[ part of the reason he allowed himself to earn the title of doctor is so that he could help individuals. admittedly not everyone is deserving of help, but he's nice enough to be helpful on occasion.

provided that who he's helping isn't going to assure his downfall. jolie looks innocent enough, even if a part of evan wonders what level she is (and if she'll trade him for a new level or to keep her own, but that's a given for). he nods though before making just enought room for her under the umbrella. ]

Luckily I grabbed my larger one today. [ there'a a pause on his end before he continues. ] Of course I do, come on, it'd be a tragedy if you were soaked to the bone in this weather.

[ jolie is probably too sweet and innocent for her own good. there's no safer person to invite into one's life, although whether that is a good or bad thing isn't totally apparent yet. she scoots out the door after him quickly, standing close but not too close beneath the umbrella. she buttons up her coat as she walks, tucking the bright folds of her dress beneath the drab fabric. ]

It's lucky you were here. This wouldn't be the first time I had to make a dash through the rain to get to the subway.

[ and she shifts her purse to the opposite side of her body, to prevent accidentaly smacking him in the side with it. that's also something that's happened before. ]

[ once you reach the upper levels, one would argue that it's a fantastic thing. indeed, evan himself will argue that he enjoys having individuals like joile around if only because he knows he can trust them (insomuch as anyone can trust another person). his eyes take in the fabric of her dress, bright and in stark contrast to both her coat and the weather. for a brief moment a smile crosses his lips as if that fabric was something that infinitely pleased him. ]

Trouble remembering umbrellas. How unfortunate. If I recall correctly, they do make ones you can fit in your purse. Unless you forget that in places as often as you do umbrellas.

[ if he's teasing, it's something he does by default, after all, one always need to know how to charm (and pleasantly tease) another person, lest you offend them instead. ]

I'd offer the umbrella until you get home, but something tells me that you're not going necessarily the same place I am.

How'd you guess?

[ if it wasn't one thing with jolie, it was another. she chalked it all up to bad luck, really. neither of her parents had been this forgetful. ]

Probably not.

[ where would he ever be going that someone like her could accompany? the thought is there and gone without jolie giving any actual consideration to it. after all, her station in life is practically unchangeable. no sense in fussing over it. ]

I'm just hoping we pass a subway stop. Or happen across a taxi willing to pick me up.

[ Dr. Margot Baran is just outside the entrance, huddled coatless in the small dry patch beneath the meager awning. There's a cigarette pinched between her fingers and she's smoking it hastily like she has somewhere better to be (which she does; there are figures waiting for her back up in her office practically burning a whole through the manila folder they're inside). She gives him a glance as he appears at the mouth of the door, the umbrella being shaken open by one hand.

Dryly, she says (she says everything dryly): ] Very well observed, doctor.

[ She never calls him Evan; not unless he insists. It's something of an insult, Dr. Baran thinks, because Evan was the name his parents gave him but 'doctor' was the title he earned for himself. Credit where credit is due, and all that.

Margot takes another quick drag, blowing the smoke in an opposite direction out of the corner of her mouth. ]

[ evan's head turns to look at margot, taking in the lack of a coat on her body (and disapproving of it) and the cigarette between her fingers. he's used to knowing that she's in hurry to get back to her work (it's not a bad thing, because that's what allows them to still function as important members in constantinople, but still).

her dry tone is contagious when he's around her and he answers back with an equal level of dryness: ] I believe that's part of the reason they call me doctor. It wouldn't do anyone any good if I couldn't make observations as keen as that one, Dr. Baran.

[ when outside, he refuses to call her anything but dr. baran for the same reasons she doesn't call him evan unless he insists. respect. a simple concept in theory, but one that a number of people seem to have an issue with. he doesn't bother to correct her because he appreciates it to a degree when out in the open even if indoors he prefers evan. (why brag when she already knows how worthy of the title doctor he is?) ]

Should I assume that you'll be working until you potentially decide that it's time to take another break to sleep?

[ Margot smiles at Evan; a thin, knowing smile. When she makes an effort (and she does on occasion, Evan himself has seen her; official functions, parties, things like that) she's actually quite beautiful. Her features are fine-boned but striking, not delicate, and her eyes seem to bare deeply held knowledge beyond the simple functions of physics and engineering. But more often than not there's a haggardness to her, a undaunted weariness that keeps her clothes ill-fitting and her hair undone. It's what as her here, shivering and tucked in on herself and around her cigarette as she stands on the front stoop. ] Rest is for the weak, Dr. McKinley, [ she chides harmlessly then wraps that smile of hers around the filter of her cigarette before taking another long drag. ]

Off so soon? [ She's been known to invite him to her office from time to time, insist that he sit and listen to her spout her ideas, curious about his opinion and his particular perspective given his area of expertise. ]

[ evan looks at her for a moment before letting out a chuckle and moving toward her (he should give her his jacket so she doesn't freeze). the thing about margot is that despite how she looks ninety percent of the time (and if he's being honest and actually looks at the data, it's more like ninety five percent) she still manages to look far more striking than most women he sees. in part, he's almost certain that it's the look of her eyes, after all, he has always been a fan of knowledge and knowing oh so many things. ] Ah, but it's also require to maintain certain higher level functions. Hardly weak, even if you would prefer it to be. [ it's said in much the same tone, though deep down there's a bit of concern, even if he knows she can take care of herself. ]

I might be. There's a party being thrown by another violet. It might be advisable for me to go. [ there's a pause once he says that and with it comes a debate of should he or shouldn't he. staying behind allows him to be at her disposal if she wants to use him as a sounding board (a very vocal one from time to time, considering how strong his opinions could get) but leaving allows him to make sure once again that he's safe. an added bit of security. ] I could stay.

[ Margot laughs, though it's little more than a puff of smoke pluming from her lips. A party, of course. No wonder he seemed so eager to leave, wishing to hurry off to whatever social respite the gathering would offer him. Abstractly, Margot understands the necessity of such things, but to her they served merely as a distraction from where her attention naturally drifted and wanted to be: work. ]

Some systems function more efficiently than others. I'd say something about how we've all gotten it down to a science by now, but I've never been one for puns. [ Margot pauses just long enough to pick a bit of ash from the tip of her tongue, shivering in the process. ] I wouldn't want to keep you from your party.

OPEN | prompt one | RAIN

evan mckinley | constantinople | pre-Event

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