trash [bby]

"The kind of nerd who has to buy d20s for stock." Nen offered with a laugh. "It's what they are called. The suppliers call them d20s." Her gaze dropped to the gemstone dice set up in the display. Quietly she added; "...and I may or may not know of a very popular tabletop roleplaying game."

Preston blinked at her, leaning in further with a heightened interest. "Do you now?" He glanced between her and the gem dice for a moment. "Okay, stranger. Be honest. What would you say is the best class and... are you in the mood for any games?"
He felt like he just found a unicorn.

A brow arched at him, lips pursed in thought. "Storm Sorcerer may not be the best utility-wise. But it's the best because it's very similar to my gift." It was fact, of course. Storm Sorcery was pretty cool. If possible, the brow arched higher. "I am currently working. Give me one good reason why I should close up shop and play D&D."

He couldn't but laugh. "I was planning on asking for your number to set something up, but I'm flattered you'd even consider dropping everything to run and play with me. Preston paused, letting himself relax and glancing around. "But, you were just snoozing when I came in here, so I'm guessing shit is slow today. I don't see anything wrong with maybe closing up for a lunch break and letting me treat you to some coffee, you know, so we can work on a character sheet. Just a suggestion."

"It is rather slow..." Nen muttered, giving him a pause before kicking off to roll her chair to the far side. She coasted until reaching a schedule lined out in a planner. It took her a moment, reading anything on the page before giving another kick of her foot to roll back. "No appointments until 4. I don't think you stretch working on a character sheet that long." Nen thought to herself for a moment then silently reached down for a small bag. "Which coffee shop? I might have a stamp card for them." She yawned deeply, stretching as deep as she could before rising to her feet.

"Well, there's a cafe down the street we could just walk to. They have good cakes there," he mused, watching with a hint of disbelief as she kicked herself around the room and gathering her things together. The young man invited himself behind the counter, holding out a hand to shake. "Preston, by the way."
Maybe it was a little late for an introduction, but he'd almost forgotten himself that he didn't actually know her name.

She narrowed her eyes for a second as he stepped behind the counter, but shaking his hand nonetheless. "Nen. Nerd might stick as a nickname for you. Just saying, Preston." She smirked, shooing him out from behind the counter. "As long as we can sit outside, I'm in. It gets stuffy in here."

Nen glanced around the store to make sure it was in fact empty before gesturing to the door and pulling out a large ring of keys from her purse. "Go on, before I have to lock you in."

Preston laughed and backed away from the counter, hands up in the air, beckoning her mercy as he made his way to the door. "Yes, Ma'am." He chimed, stepping back outside and casting a quick look around. At least it was warm enough to eat out on the patio. There was a bit of a breeze, but hardly a cloud to be seen anywhere.
"So, you're new to town, aren't you?" He called casually behind him.

Nen shook her head at him, but couldn't help a smile. "Something like that." She answered, flipping the open sign to be closed. "They weren't able to find me until I was much too old to go to Beata. Helps to live in the middle of fucking nowhere." Shop locked up, Nen spun around to follow Preston, wrinkling her nose at the heat. She had worn another Huskers sweatshirt that day as Nen hadn't planned on going out. It was fucking hot.

Deliberately, she let out a slow exhale and the wind picked up, sufficiently cooling her off. "I'm assuming you aren't, then?"

He shivered once more against the sudden breeze that seemed to pick up out of nowhere, left in a simple t-shirt, he was defenseless against it - but by God he would survive.
"Me? No. I've been here most of my life, really, since I was... twelve?" He frowned as he thought on it. God, it had been so long. "My folks went here as well. I'm old blood, I guess."

He looked her over, eying the logo on her sweater. "Define 'middle-of-nowhere' for me."

Nen raised a brow, following his gaze to her shirt. "Kansas. Lucas, Kansas. Though, the farm is a good twenty-minute drive from the outside of the city." She smoothed out the sweatshirt. "Don't let the Huskers logo confuse you, my ma was from Nebraska."

She turned back towards him. "You don't look like the football type."

"Are you saying that nerds can't like football? I find that kind of insulting, I'll have you know." His voice had been aghast, but his smile said otherwise. "But I'm from the New England area, so I don't really follow anyone else there except the Patriots, frankly. Feel free to roast."
He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking ahead for the Cafe entrance. "Kansas though, they got anything interesting there? Besides yourself, of course."

Nen shook her head. ”It’s a college team, nerd.” She let the wind fade after another long exhale. ”So you are a city boy then, huh? That explains why you think there might be something interesting in Kansas.” A laugh escaped her, and she kicked a rock down the sidewalk. ”Riddle me this, have you heard of this food called corn?”

He tried to look indignant but he couldn't fight off the laugh that followed along with her. "Alright, I don't watch college football because I'm too busy playing table top games, fucking sue me." Preston feigned a scoff, watching the pebble skip ahead of them. "Is corn all you know of this world, you sweet summer child?" I'll give you two guesses where I'm from. Lobster capital of the world."

Nen pursed her lips, eyes narrowing considerably until only blue specks were noticeable behind dark lashes. Slowly, she turned her back to him, using the watch on her arm to look up that fact. Fielding any attempts he made to stop her with pointed gusts of wind.

”Hm...let me think.” She continued walking sideways, struggling to type with the tiny keyboard provided on the watch.