Broken and Battered (Open)

[Rowan Booker]

A few weeks had already passed since Rowan came back to the quiet town of PR. He had already been making a mess of things since he came back, as was his style it seemed. However, he was working on things. Himself mostly because he couldn't be a flight risk forever. There would come a time when he needed to get his life back in order not just for himself, but for those he cared about and who were counting on him to fix it. Currently he had no one speaking to him because of his summer of horrors. DUI, fleeing PR, leaving behind countless people and coming back to find that they hated him as much as he was starting to hate himself.

Rowan Booker had once been a well-liked, if not a little narcissistic, man among the Hammel crowd. In his high school days, he had people lining up to talk to him, to make friends with him and now that high school was over, he felt like a washed up athlete with little to his name and a receding hairline. Though he knew he hadn't reached that part yet. His looks were still his typical Booker looks, hot as ever and well-groomed. His features had become more defined, edgier with age, but he was still Rowan. Now he just needed to get his attitude adjusted and go back to the Booker that had won over his best friend and all of the people that ended up becoming close to him before.

He couldn't stand not having Lucy and Beatrice talking to him.

Rowan had settled on starting the day out right, wandering the streets towards a coffee shop. Any one would have done fine for him, but he found himself in Velvet-Tone Coffeehouse, standing in line and awaiting to give his order. His eyes scanned the room and he sought out any familiar faces. Younger kids from Hammel, someone he graduated with, a hook up? Anyone would have been welcome to him at this point. 

[Amber Ignis]

Amber liked to come to the Velvet-Tone Coffeehouse to do her schoolwork. With laptop and backpack in tow, she drove out to her favorite local spot to finish writing an English paper. Amber always resented the fact that though she was close to the age that left high school that she would still be in high school. If she were a normal teen – not a meta – she would graduate like anyone else, but because she was not “in control” of her powers or whatever, she doubted the end of high school was on her horizon.

At the same time, Amber didn’t mind continuing high school, because in all honesty she did not know what her future held. She didn’t know where she wanted to go to college, what job she wanted to pursue, or even where she wanted to live. She wanted to get the hell out of Vermont, but she did like living in meta-central. It was nice to not be the only freak around.

Her therapist told her it was productive to be around “like-minded” individuals. Amber wasn’t even sure she knew what that meant. It was like saying all black people think alike, all Jewish people think alike, and all metas think alike. It made no sense. And besides, Amber had met a ton of metas who were nothing like her. Not once had she come in contact with another pyro, or even another meta who had some sort of elemental power.

For being around “like-minded” individuals, Amber felt utterly alone. She was on the verge of a manic breakdown and it didn’t seem like anything was stopping her. And just to perpetuate her bad behavior, of course a tall, handsome, guy entered the shop just as Amber sat down with her drink. He looked athletic and absolutely delicious. Amber pondered the best way to get his attention. Her solution was definitely not therapist approved. She noticed the guy was standing by a garbage can so she took her very full coffee with her and went to throw it away.

Even though she just paid for it, she decided to pretend it was garbage and casually bump into him as she threw away her “trash.” She approached the garbage can, but her hand got stuck on the lip of the can and she ended up recoiling and spilling her hot coffee all over his arm.

“Oh my gosh!” she yelled grabbing a napkin. “I am so so sorry!” Okay well not exactly according to plan, but it worked right?

[Rowan Booker]

With his order put in and the line in front of him being long enough to annoy even the most patient people, Rowan found himself in a foul mood. Coffee was one of the things he'd latched onto after getting a DUI back in Boston. Alcohol called to him, but he couldn't afford to get into anymore trouble with underage drinking, let alone with his license already suspended and the impending consequences being that much worse for him. Still, with his weariness becoming more prominent, he longed for a bottle of Jack and his new apartment where he could shut himself away like a hermit.

His own thoughts began annoying him more with the loner edge he'd had a long time ago seeming to resurface. This was why he'd relied on his cousin and his best friend. With them he was more outgoing, happier and less of a recluse. For now, he was forcing himself into social situations and thriving for some good-natured conversation that would drag him out of his slump. All he needed was a nice-looking face with a nicer looking body and some distraction.

As though his thoughts had been personified right in front of him, he felt the scalding liquid soaking through his long-sleeved thermal and yanked his arm back with a wince. His eyes snapped up, ready to berate the person who spilled coffee on him, but he stopped his verbal assault when he looked at the girl. Fiery looking, edgy and perhaps a little familiar, he attempted to think back on his list of conquests and if she'd found herself on it before. Rowan couldn't recall this one, so he guessed not.

"Easy, girl. A little spilled coffee is nothing to freak out about," He offered a bit of a smirk before pulling his shirt over his head, a white t-shirt underneath. "There, all better, yeah?" Rowan balled up the shirt in his hands and tucked it underneath his arm as his coffee order was called. He paid and took the cup from the barista with a thank you before turning back to the girl beside him.

He sipped at his coffee, his eyes still appraising her before he pulled the cup from his lips and smirked again, "I'm Rowan, what's your name?"

[Amber Ignis]

Amber reeled with embarrassment. She found it amazement how quickly she could go from smooth to awkward in a matter of seconds. It definitely took courage to get up and try to approach a stranger in a coffee shop, but leave it to Amber to make a complete fool of herself.
While she stumbled through an apology, the guy actually responded very well. Amber usually got away with doing less than savory things because of her looks. And she wasn't sorry about it. Her thoughts were - if you're good looking, use it while you can.

Amber's heart pattered a little faster when he pulled his long sleeved shirt over his head. While his hands were raised, the bottom of his t-shirt lifted every so slightly to reveal a bit of skin just above his pants. It sounded juvenile, but the bit of exposed skin was enough to get Amber's imagination working. She imagined him taking off his other shirt, putting his arm around her, feeling his warmth.....

But to Amber's dismay, as soon as he finished taking off the long sleeved shirt, his short sleeve shirt settled back into its place. Her quick fantasy was over. Then she heard the barista call a name, "Rowan!" and he walked away. Amber looked around a little unsure of what to do. Was that it? Was it over? Did her attempts fail?

But luckily within seconds he returned to her, coffee in hand and ready to start a conversation. "I'm Amber." She laughed a little, awkwardly, but also proud that her little stunt seemed to be working.