Something in Common (Time) [Octavia/Bon]

[Bon Bon]

Bon Bon's eyes swept over the cafeteria. It was a grey, rainy day (go figure), and she was looking for an equally desaturated person. Octavia... Medley, or something. She'd never met her, really—seen her around Lyra a time or two, but never properly introduced herself. But today, she thought, gripping the rounded corners of her little red plastic tray; today that was gonna change.

The usual din of Canterlot High's cafeteria was going on around her. Conversations everywhere, sometimes a high laugh when someone found Grumpy Cat on their phone or a few discordant notes from that guy who always brought in his guitar. (What kind of person spends that much effort to take their instrument to lunch, anyway? At least with Lyra it wasn't that big...) The patter of rain outside barely registered with the rest of the noise, but if the weatherman was right it'd be thundering soon.

Not an appealing forecast to Bon Bon. She was in a bright, red-and-yellow pattern sundress with an autumny orange jacket and a pair of matching tights; she'd dressed for sunlight. And warmth. Instead? Grey sky and goosebumps. At least she had decent boots that wouldn't soak her feet. Wet socks were the worst. Possible. Thing.

Still, none of it was going to distract her. She was gonna get this Octavia girl on the show, so she had to get to know her a little first. Make sure it wasn't all awkward and stiff when she came on. Plus, getting to know one of Lyra's friends wouldn't hurt either.

She marched purposefully through the aisles, glancing at this table and that in her search—musicians here, nerds there, rich kids, chess club... where the heck did Octavia sit? She had to have a place somewhere Bon Bon could butt in, right?

"Ugh, man..." she muttered, perturbed. "Where is she? This chick is like a gho–Ah!" She stopped abruptly, stumbling back from the girl she'd nearly barreled straight into. "Oh! S-sorry, I— ...Wait."

Black hair, refined atmosphere, cute face. This must be her. A grin split Bon Bon's face instantly. "You're Octavia, right? Lyra's friend? Do you mind if I sit with you today?" She held up her tray a bit, which had a paper bag on it in addition to the standard-serving school lunch. "I bring good tidings."

[Octavia]

Octavia left the lunch line and looked to the windows of the cafeteria. The world outside looked chilly and grey, but was it still raining? As the noise of the cafeteria quieted just slightly, she heard the pattering of the rain above, and sure enough, as she neared a window, she saw rainwater streaking down the glass. And surer still, her expression didn’t betray what she felt, which was like hurling her lunch tray through the window and hopefully into low orbit. It was with a focused, almost professional setting of her features that she looked over the cafeteria. Across a room of overdone and murky, if civilized browns—from the tiles to the tables, walls and columns—the other students mingled in their groups, the voices coming together in her ears like white noise, like a sea of chatty guinea pigs. She recognized the thought for the sourness that it held, but during lunch, she just wanted to be outside, at one of the tables behind the building, simply relaxing, unwinding, and letting the stress go for a little while. But she wouldn’t be able to do that today… Unwilling to stand around, she started to walk the aisles of tables…perhaps she would sit with the other musically-inclined students…but then she saw the guy picking his way through tired rock intros with his guitar...and her spirits fell a little. Rain or no rain, she wouldn’t be seen at that table…but then…where? By herself? It wasn’t so bad to sit by oneself outside, but inside the cafeteria, surely she’d look like she had a problem of some kind if she sat alone in there. She found herself walking back the way she came. She would have to figure out something, or else she’d still look strange! While the prospect of sitting with the other musicians started to seem to be the only option, she went around one of the cafeteria pillars and stopped just short of running into somebody! “Oh! S-sorry, I—…Wait.” Octavia caught herself in an instance of scowling. Now there would be staring from anyone nearby, wouldn’t there? She quickly gathered her calm expression as she looked to the girl she almost ran into. The girl was a bit shorter than her, the pink half of her hair catching Octavia’s eye reflexively. After a fraction of a moment during which Octavia started to feel as though she should have recognized the other girl, she saw her start on a smile as warm as the colors of her sundress. “You’re Octavia right? Lyra’s friend? Do you mind if I sit with you today?” She raised her tray. “I bring good tidings.” From the paper bag on the tray, the faint scent of something sweet and fresh wandered up. She blinked a few times as her thinking transitioned, forgetting her annoyance at the rain, and she considered the new situation for an instant, which is about all it took for her to gather who she had quite almost literally run into. “That’s sweet of you…you’re Bon Bon, right? As much as Lyra mentions you, I was nearly ready to insist we meet, so…yes, let’s have a sit. The weather’s a bit on the rotten side, so my usual seat won’t do. Will…that table over there be alright?” Octavia pointed over to an unoccupied table near a corner of the cafeteria.

[Bon Bon]

Oh, dear... that little split-second scowl from the girl told Bon Bon that maybe gregariousness wasn't reeaaally the way to go here. (Darn it, though, if it always worked for Lyra then why wouldn't it work for her, huh? Did you need to be like ten feet tall for it to be endearing?)

A gentler touch, then. She smiled, turned her shoulders and gave the girl her full attention. She could do that. With one notable exception, Bon Bon tended to get along better with shy folks anyway.

Once again she wondered exactly where Octavia's usual seat was if she was couldn't go there when it rained... was she one of those moody kids who sat alone on the roof and thought about sad poems? That could fit, but it wasn't really her business to ask. Still... she was picking one of the furthermost tables. Presumably for privacy, but Bon got the impression it could be half instinct as well.

"Heheh... My reputation precedes me, huh? Well, I hope she didn't tell you anything too terrible ~ she always has the nicest things to say about you, after all." Without further instruction, she started heading toward the table Octavia pointed out, hoping the cellist would be coming with. "Oh, and I've got something to ask you about, too. But that can wait. I dunno about you, but I'm always starving by this time of day."

As she settled in and smoothed out her dress, a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Oh, um. I should ask first. Are you diabetic, lactose intolerant, or allergic to nuts...? 'Cause, my bag here is gonna be super disappointing to you if you are."

[Octavia]

"Heheh... My reputation precedes me, huh? Well, I hope she didn't tell you anything too terrible ~ she always has the nicest things to say about you, after all." Octavia started to follow her as she started towards the table. She reflexively wondered what the nicest things were, and how those things compared to the nicest things Lyra said about Bon Bon. Not that she was jealous or even contemplating in the realm of envy, but rather, she was absolutely curious. Positively curious. Incredibly curious, even. So far, there was little doubt in her mind who was the nicer one, and as if that thought were a discovery onto itself, Octavia smiled with a tinge of unintentional guile. "Lyra's quite sweet, I'm sure you know, and the things she says about you...well...a girl can't help but wonder how she measures up~" Octavia's own thoughts in reply were, Well, there certainly isn't any competition over who's cuter. I've lost that one with certainty. Oh well~ Bon Bon put down her tray and took her seat, and Octavia started to do the same. "Oh, um. I should ask first. Are you diabetic, lactose intolerant, or allergic to nuts...? 'Cause, my bag here is gonna be super disappointing to you if you are." Octavia looked to the bag. Sugar, milk, and nuts...perhaps some sort of cake? Or a sundae? Then she wondered to herself why she was guessing. It was not as though she were 12...surely, she was only seconds away from finding out what Bon Bon brought with her, and surely it would be an unobjectionable treat. "No such allergies for me. Unless the contents of your bag there are filled with cat, I don't think I'm about to be disappointed, and certainly not super disappointed, rather." Octavia found her own seat pleasantly enough. She wondered what Bon Bon had to ask her about, but if she felt it could wait, Octavia certainly wasn't going to complain. She opened a can of tea and squirmed a bit in her seat. Only 3 years. Only 3 years and she'd never have to be in a cafeteria again. She looked to Bon Bon, her smart smile restored with the slightest bit of sheepishness to it after she got comfortable, if a second or two too late for taste.

[Bon Bon]

Measures up...? Huh. Bon Bon hadn't really thought about it like that. But now that it came to mind... yeah. Yeah, she could totally see Lyra lining her friends up against the wall, grabbing a measuring tape, and seeing who was her tallest friend once and for all. Her eyes swept up and down Octavia again; yeah, no way she was beating her out. Bon consoled herself with the thought that Napoleon wasn't that tall either, and he still made something of himself.

As Octavia sat, Bon Bon steepled her fingers in thought for a moment, watching her. So polite... and kind of weirdly uncomfortable, for some reason? She seemed aware of it, at least, if that sheepish little grin was any indication. Didn't get the impression it was because of her, though. Maybe she was just uneasy around (relative) strangers; Bon could get that. So, she grinned back and popped open the paper sack.

"No cats! I'm more of a dog person anyway," she said, gently lifting them out by her fingertips one by one, so as not to disturb the frosting. She laid out five little blue-velvet cupcakes, frosted in white and with little black sixteenth notes on top. (She didn't actually know what they were, but she'd seen the symbol on Lyra's homework.) "I know, I know, it's kinda dorky. But they're low-fat, too, so don't worry—I'm not out to ruin that figure so soon ~"

...Wow, that could've come across as flirty. Bon cleared her throat and popped the tab of her soda pop, taking a too-dainty sip. "A-anyway... heard you're super into music. What do you play?"

Bit of a test-run question, on Bon Bon's part. Open-ended questions were a good way of gauging whether someone was a good talker or not, or if they needed a bit more leading to really open up. She might not be a calculating kind of girl, but she'd picked up a few tricks as the show went on.

[Octavia]

"No cats! I'm more of a dog person anyway," Octavia watched as Bon Bon drew the five cupcakes. Blue cake was just visible under the icing. Iced onto each one was a sixteenth note glistening in the cafeteria light, black on white icing. It occurred to her that she had not had cake of any kind since her last birthday party, and that was just a single, if huge, slice of red-velvet cake. Not that she necessarily went without treats, but if she had any selfish pleasures, it was frozen yogurt: nice and low-calorie, and one simply had not lived until they had white chocolate mousse mixed with espresso yogurt... "I know, I know, it's kinda dorky. But they're low-fat, too, so don't worry—I'm not out to ruin that figure so soon ~" At first she thought that she would go for trying two, but then Bon Bon finished that sentence, and Octavia blinked twice at her in the instant following. Generally, Octavia was prepared to respond to any question or comment about her with a crafty smile and a tone both mellow and focused, but she had not received any comments about her figure before, at least not without some sort of conventional pretext, like PE or something. "I-It is nothing to be afraid of. I'm sure you woke up early to make these. I'd hate to miss out on them because I'm afraid of messing up my figure. And...they are rather pretty. If I may?" She almost gave her usual mannered smile, but found it warped with an element of...awkwardness? Still, she started to reach out to one of the cupcakes, looking to Bon Bon for permission. It was only polite. "A-anyway... heard you're super into music. What do you play?" For this, Octavia had no shortage of things to say, but yet again, it served to be polite and not explode into a speech. "I suppose I am...um...super into music." She tried not to sound too silly saying the word that Bon Bon had said so easily and casually. Her attention went to the sensation of the table's formica under the pads of fingertips long-roughened by pressing down on thick strings.  "I play cello for the school's orchestra and, I should say, for myself as well. Of course, it was through music that I met Lyra if she hasn't said so already."  She was starting to have questions of her own, but found herself considering them more carefully than she otherwise would have, so she lifted the canned tea for a thoughtful sip.

[Bon Bon]

Aah... Octavia wasn't buying it about the cupcakes, apparently. Still, she wanted them anyway—so that was points to her in Bon Bon's book! (Though she did make the cake parts low-fat... just, maybe she didn't make the frosting quite as such. There's only so much you can do before you start sacrificing flavor, and her conscience wouldn't let her bake anything that tasted like cardboard with toppings.)

She gave her an easy smile, if a bit of an "oh, honey" kind of look. "What, would I tell you no? Go right ahead ~ I didn't make them so they could sit there and look pretty. Just don't get a stomachache, yeah? These'll keep pretty well as long as you keep them in a bag or tupperware or something, glucose does that."

That said, she settled back for a minute and listened to what Octavia had to say. She didn't mind the awkward colloquialism; in fact, it kinda made her smile. She took a bite, settled her elbows on the table to listen closer, and... and that was it? Just the basic facts? Bon Bon swallowed her food and had a long, deep sip of her pop. Okay, so maybe she would be a little harder to open up.

But how to do it? The girl was so proper and austere, she was probably just so quiet and humble because she was used to not being anything else. (This, from the chick who, according to rumor, drags stuff around with freakin' chains.) Right—that would be the ticket, then. Press her a little bit, see if she could get that passion to come out on it. Wouldn't do to have her join the show as a shy, blushing maiden—it was Bon Bon's job to make her look good.

"Aah, cool beans," she said, hunching forward a bit and smiling up at her, eyebrows raised. "But Lyra's told me all that, sugar. I know what you do. I mean, what you do is really cool, too, don't get me wrong—that's actually part of why I wanted to talk with ya. But I meant, what do you play?"

[Octavia]

"What, would I tell you no? Go right ahead ~ I didn't make them so they could sit there and look pretty. Just don't get a stomachache, yeah? These'll keep pretty well as long as you keep them in a bag or tupperware or something, glucose does that." Octavia took a cupcake and answered Bon Bon's question. After a sip of her tea, she took a careful nibble of the cupcake, careful not to touch the icing with her nose. The flavor was simple, but sweet. In a way, it was even better than something fancy, then a piece of cake with an excessive design laid down in chocolate sauce or a crème brûlée with a side of organic strawberries. Those were fine desserts, but the nibble of cupcake was inescapably tied in Octavia's mind with the girl who made it who was...thinking about something, it seemed. For a moment, with the din behind Octavia and with one of the windows behind Bon Bon, veins of chilly rainwater running down the glass carrying the light of a passing car's headlights, she could not help but smirk a little. She felt like a steely-nerved protagonist from a noir in her suit talking with a dame in a diner somewhere. Luckily, she did not own a single fedora, her jacket collar was firmly folded down, and there were quite a few more colors in the world, and the word dame was rather outdated. "Aah, cool beans, but Lyra's told me all that, sugar. I know what you do. I mean, what you do is really cool, too, don't get me wrong—that's actually part of why I wanted to talk with ya. But I meant, what do you play?" A little flame lit inside, a delightful pinch reminding Octavia what she played...and that it wasn't quite what she wanted to play. Though the matter of what she wanted to play actually was... She got a bit of her usual smart smile back and leaned forward just a bit. "Apart from whatever the Ochestra teacher foists onto us ... pedantic fluff ... Mozart ... Vivaldi ... let's say I play things more suitable for people with a pulse, rather? If I want to feel intellectual, I'll read a book with a marble face on the cover. Music that doesn't make your face red or wet with tears just seems like a waste of time to me. That is ... a murky answer, perhaps? In conclusion, what I play is my attitude applied. Is that answer satisfactory?"

[Bon Bon]

Bon Bon's eyebrows climbed about halfway up her forhead. Okay—she wasn't quite expecting her to open up that easy, but dang, she was kind of glad she did. So long as she wasn't just saying what she wanted to hear, of course—but Bon Bon doubted it. The girl was really showing some tooth, figuratively speaking, and that was the kind of thing that got listeners to sit up a little. (Or squirm uncomfortably... which, she noted, was why they had a strict "seven second delay" policy with anything remotely live-broadcast. She didn't think they'd need that with Octavia here, though.) She swilled her fork around, taking a bite and chewing to think it over. When she was done, she looked back to Octavia with a smile. "Definitely satisfactory, hun. I'll tell you what... here's my question. You know about that show Lyra and I run, right? The school podcast?" Bon Bon straightened up in her seat again, but more casually, this time. It was easier to talk with her now that she knew Octavia was plenty capable of being straightforward. "Well, we aren't your orchestra teacher. If you want to come on our show and play something, or even just talk music, we'll let you loose. I don't really know Mozart from a matzo ball, but I can tell you've got something to say. What do you think?"

[Octavia]

"Definitely satisfactory, hun. I'll tell you what... here's my question. You know about that show Lyra and I run, right? The school podcast?" Octavia nodded as she sipped at her drink, momentarily breaking eye contact. "Well, we aren't your orchestra teacher. If you want to come on our show and play something, or even just talk music, we'll let you loose. I don't really know Mozart from a matzo ball, but I can tell you've got something to say. What do you think?" She leaned back in her seat – not slouched, of course – and hummed a low, crafty note as she gave her answer the moment’s consideration is rightly deserved. She was not in the habit of talking for the sake of it. No matter how smart anyone was, it was just a matter of time before they said something insipid – if not outright careless – in an attempt to keep a sort of momentum in speaking. Twenty minutes of planned presentation time was one matter, but ‘just talking?’ Her eyes rested on the cupcakes. If she planned as much as possible, she would do well, though she would have to consider what the definition of ‘well’ was in this new context. She did have something to say … she would just have to dress it in the sharp shoulders of artful business attire.

She looked back to Bon Bon after letting all of five seconds pass. It was a pause, but harmless, a proper collect - your - thoughts pause, nothing awkward. “A bit of music, a bit of talk … I think it sounds like a lovely afternoon, a lash against routine. Do you have any plans for the next podcast so far? I only ask because it’s almost the end of the year, and everything’s getting that certain Autumn something … “ Though, as she glanced out of the window, it looked like that certain something was going to be a renewed appreciation for umbrellas. On the plus side, rain meant that she did not have to worry about dodging an errant football thrown by an overly keen (and yet deficiently keen as well) Freshman football player at the end of the day. Fall was just simply a better season... “Just hoping to be prepared.”

[Bon Bon]

Jeez... this was a bit weird, wasn't it? Bon Bon could usually get a solid bead on people quick, and nine times out of ten she found herself right—but Octavia was throwing her off a bit. She'd gone from all but straight up cussing out classical composers to talking like a politely overworked businesswoman, trying to work the podcast into her no-doubt-busy high school student's schedule. Suuure. Prepared... or are ya just too cool for school? Still, she smiled, though there was a bit more of a smirk to it again. Alright, maybe she was able to pin her down a bit after all. "Heh, no problem. I think our next podcast is gonna be about gardening, but... how about the one after that? Couple weeks from now? It'll still be autumn, but, uh. You know we record indoors, right? You probably won't need an umbrella." She decided, for the moment, to leave out the Sunset thing. She wasn't really sure if Octavia had been one of Sunset's victims or not back when she was pure evil clad in cowhide, so, err on the side of caution. For a couple of moments she dug back into her lunch, clearly intent not to waste her food on business. She wasn't much for breakfast unless there was company—sure, she'd make sweet crepes or chocolate-chip pancakes for Lyra or Sweetie, but if she was left to her own devices? Orange juice and Cheerio's in 2% milk. Lunch, then, was the most important meal of the day. "Mm," she mumbled, finishing her bite and quickly dabbing her lips. "Also. Since we do our recording at school, if you wanna play your music you're gonna wanna bring your thingy with you. I kinda doubt a bass fits in your locker, so... I figure you'll wanna know so you can plan for that. And, uh..." She glanced over her shoulder, checking that they weren't being eavesdropped on. Sure, they'd picked somewhere nice and private, but... she leaned in anyway, lowering her voice. "...I just gotta ask. Is it true you carry it around on a big-ass chain? Doesn't that get rusty or pinchy?" Curiosity killed the cat. Time to see if Bon Bon was a dead kitty.

[Octavia]

Bon Bon’s smirk did not have the force of the cocky or the faintness of the pretending. It was a practiced curve, a speed skater’s slice in the ice, an effortless, calligraphic stroke on the page. It was the expression of easy confidence. Octavia could not help but meet her for the expression. They would have the appearance of conspirators then, though they were only talking of a podcast. "Heh, no problem. I think our next podcast is gonna be about gardening, but... how about the one after that? Couple weeks from now? It'll still be autumn, but, uh. You know we record indoors, right? You probably won't need an umbrella." She considered it for a short moment while Bon Bon took a few bites of her lunch. Octavia took an exacting nibble of hers and a more intent drink afterwards; it would not do to talk with a dry throat. “I don’t believe I should have any trouble coming to your podcast in a couple weeks. I am sure by then I should be most prepared.” But did she really need so much time? She had performed well during the extemporaneous public speaking test, and that was graded as well as delivered to her peers. What was the difference in this case that she should feel that there was some sort of grand performance to brace for? It certainly was not a fear of playing her cello, so what was the problem? “It’s a matter not necessarily of discussion. I imagine natural discussion is what you would want for your podcast. It’s then a matter of preparing something to play that will not sound like a twice-regurgitated sugarcoat on 'Mary Had a Little Lamb and Severe Separation Issues'. I think there’s room for something just a bit more ambitious if you do.” She felt two simultaneous pangs: pride – for having not had to seriously study nursery rhymes for over a decade – and guilt – for insulting those just starting that reasonably needed to. Pride won out, perhaps, for wanting to take a different course, but what course, exactly? "Also. Since we do our recording at school, if you wanna play your music you're gonna wanna bring your thingy with you. I kinda doubt a bass fits in your locker, so... I figure you'll wanna know so you can plan for that. And, uh..." The division in her emotions settled as Bon Bon looked around with surreptitious care. Octavia considered saying something conspiratorial just to keep up the appearances. "...I just gotta ask. Is it true you carry it around on a big-ass chain? Doesn't that get rusty or pinchy?" Pinchy was not a bad choice of words, though others came to mind. “I would not say it gets rusty if you select the right chain. The quarter-inch chains I use are galvanized, like the chains on swing sets, I suppose, so rust is not much of a concern. They are rather … pinchy, as you said. However, they make a very satisfying metric of interest. If you enjoy something – such as a thingy – enough that you would chain yourself to it, then there’s a certain comfort to that. And, of course, there is a certain pleasing heft in moving to the sound of straining, clinking steel. Just ask one of those medieval reenactors in armor in the parks.” She had a longer sip of her drink. She was a little uncomfortable with what she said. Indeed, she was coming dangerously close to sounding like an idiot. The chains were awfully impractical, but necessary in a way she was not yet sure how to articulate, even in her thoughts.

[Bon Bon]

Bon Bon’s left eyebrow sprung right up again. Right. Okay, now she was getting the pieces falling into place. The rumors, the strange attitude, the cello-on-chains thing—this chick was a punk in sheep’s clothing. Or at least she wanted to be. The jury was still out on whether it was a guise, some sort of rich-family habit, or a strange special je ne sais quoi that she was trying to cultivate. Sure, she was a bit pretentious, maybe. But she had some reasons to be. Bon knew you had to know what you were talking about before you could start sassing people about it. She took another quick swipe of food off her fork and grinned, keeping her elbows on the table. ”Hun, you play whatever works for what you wanna talk about. It sounds like you have a point to make, and this is the kinda thing that makes Lyra swoon, so go for it. Just, you know—maybe keep it under five minutes? ‘Cause we only have so much time in an episode. If you want longer we can just play a clip and link it as a special download or something, too.” The food on her tray, bit by bit, was starting to vanish. She had a final swig of her soda pop and set the can aside, after a quick wipe of the lip. ”I think I know what you mean. You don’t want to come across as, um… ‘pedantic’, right? And since you’re kinda classy, obviously, it’s a little easy to do that.” She put her chin on her fist and waved the little plastic fork at her, but casually, more like a mom than like a prosecutor. ”I think I’m starting to figure you out, Octavia. You’re an oddball, but there’s a method in there. I’m glad Lyra told me about you.”

[Octavia]

”Hun, you play whatever works for what you wanna talk about. It sounds like you have a point to make, and this is the kinda thing that makes Lyra swoon, so go for it. Just, you know—maybe keep it under five minutes? ‘Cause we only have so much time in an episode. If you want longer we can just play a clip and link it as a special download or something, too.” Octavia took bites of her school lunch salad as Bon Bon spoke. As usual, she felt a distant hatred for whoever decided that the only dressings would be cheap ranch and bleu cheese dressings that tasted like grease scraped off a drug-street fry-van’s stove and mixed with linoleum cleaner and garlic with a spattering of curdled rat milk. Would it have been such a hit to the school budget to carry something of modern taste? Surely, arranging for some balsamic vinaigrette would not bankrupt the school. Money easily taken from the cheerleading program and transferred for the good of the school. She sighed and bit into an undressed stab of warm, mushy salad, and considered what Bon Bon was saying. “I have somewhat of a strange track I could offer as a download piece. I would play it live, but it’s a combination of recordings. For your podcast, I’ll prepare something that can be played properly and live and, as you said, under five minutes. I cannot guarantee that I’ll make Lyra swoon … “ She gave a brief, dignified chuckle. “… But that would be quite a sight.” Bon Bon put down her soda, “I think I know what you mean. You don’t want to come across as, um… ‘pedantic’, right? And since you’re kinda classy, obviously, it’s a little easy to do that.” She watched the end of Bon Bon’s fork as she waved it. Being pedantic was indeed a risk, though certainly a better one than approaching a situation stumbling. ”I think I’m starting to figure you out, Octavia. You’re an oddball, but there’s a method in there. I’m glad Lyra told me about you.” She was not sure what to make of all that. An oddball with a method? Perhaps there were worse things to be, and that aside, there was a certain amusement to being seen in such a way, in such a colorful, simple, and direct impression. There was animation and splendor to Bon Bon. Despite the vagueness of impressions, Octavia kept her smile. “And I’m glad to meet the girl behind the legend.” Octavia gave Bon Bon a flash of a humor to her smile, nearly a grin. “We three should go somewhere and … have fun. Three’s a scene, you see, and finding you to be fun company, a place we’d go would invariably become lively and yet mercifully free of footballs and the vocal litter of the cafeteria.” She let her tone get the slightest bit prancey, mocking herself somewhat. She did not do it often, but it was good to show to whom it counted that she was willing to laugh at herself.

[Bon Bon]

Wuh-oh. The term "strange track" was a bit of a flag. When a musician said a strange track, that could mean anything from a song that's just a little off the beaten path for them, or it's about how the government staged the moon landing, or it's a fifteen-minute instrumental ballad about Charlemagne. Still... even if she was a bit funny, Octavia had her head on right. Right? So, after considering it a minute, Bon Bon nodded and gave her a smile. "Deal, we can do that. E-mail Lyra the file when the time comes and she can stick it up for ya, if you're sure you're comfortable with it being distributed. When something's on the internet once, it's there forever," she said, and scooped one of the latter few bites left on her plate. She didn't have too many issues with the school lunch salad; it was pre-packaged crap, sure, but it was supposed to get you through the day, not taste good. That was what the cupcakes were for. She snickered a little. "Sadly, it's audio-only. So even if you pull off giving Lyra and me the vapors, our audience will just have to imagine it~" She watched Octavia as she made her suggestion, resting her chin on the back of her hand. What a funny lady, she thought. Keeps saying what she doesn't like instead of what she does. Bit of a rebel, for sure. Still, seeing the taciturn lady give an almost-toothy smile like that... there was a nice feeling of accomplishment there. And here the girl was, offering more chances to let her do that. Might just get her addicted to smiling yet—one day, either she or Lyra would get her ear-to-ear. One day. "I'd love to," she said, grinning like some sort of candy-coated shark. Sweet and a teeny bit predatory at the same time. "You've got Lyra's number, and calling her is basically like calling both of us, so hit her up when you've got time? We could totally have a blast. And I promise, no footballs that you don't bring, girl scout's honor." Bon started clearing up the things on her tray, then, consolidating for easier disposal. Seemed like the weather hadn't changed much... but somehow she felt a little warmer and drier than she had before. Must be the cupcake.