Scene #864:

Owner	Pose
Nasrin	THE CAFETERIA Nasrin was on an increasingly rare leave from Serenity, and had made her way to catch up on some... paperwork was a good thing. She was hanging out in the cafeteria, a tray in front of her. The quiet girl was scribbling at something in a spiral-bound notebook. She had three long streaks under each eye, going nearly to her chin, cinnamon-brown hair drifting down from a half-wrapped scarf. Her dark eyes were pursed, and she tapped her pencil against her chin. Her hood was pulled down, but she was still wearing a gray tunic with blood-red details stitched carefully at the end of her sleeves, and the gauntlet shown plainly on her left arm marked her as an Assassin to those who might be in the know.
Jimmy Wen	Jimmy Wen may be new to the Multiverse, but his world isn't. He's finally gotten around to taking a step outside of Los Angeles, though he can't rightly say whether that decision comes from curiosity or desperation. Not that he's from some awful wartorn place! It's just that he doubts certain... types of people can find him here. The best way to see if you'll like a place is to try the food. He's heard this place is staffed by /culinary/ Elites, and he can only imagine what their handiwork will taste like. He enters, wearing sunglasses despite being indoors. Wen takes a look around--well, he knows all of one Elite by his appearance, and he doesn't even really know Dresden that well. So, any place is a good place to sit, really. As luck would have it, he sits down near Nasrin after grabbing his grub.
Nasrin	Nasrin glances up as someone sits near her, and she tilts her head slightly as she regards the stranger. She brushes her hair behind an ear, and beneath the headscarf before she glances back down to her notebook. Well. Might as well try to be friendly. "Good evening." she states to her new table-mate. "I've not seen you before."
Jimmy Wen	Jimmy offers Nasrin his best smile. His aviators reflect two images of her as he offers a hand for her to shake. "You know, I think you're right! Hi there, my name's Jimmy Wen. What's yours?" Without moving his head, he peers down slightly to get a look at what food Nasrin's got. Might be good suggestions for his next visit, though there's no accounting for taste!
Nasrin	"I am called Nasrin." she replies, raising an eyebrow as she looks to those aviators, and then to his hand. And apparently she's not as familiar with the custom, but she reaches up a scarred-up hand and shakes his briefly. Her tray has some shaved meat in a clear dressing wrapped with grilled veggies in a pita pocket, parted fruit and mellon balls with some yogurt, and a chocolate milk. Even cold blooded killers need their calcium.
Jimmy Wen	By contrast, Jimmy's got a little flatbread pizza which strays considerably from the standard idea of a pizza. Alfredo sauce, mozzarella cheese, chicken, and spinach. He's drinking a steaming hot, sweet-smelling liquid which more contemporary Elites (so probably not Nasrin) will recognize as Coke. There's a slice of lemon floating in it, too. "Nice to meet you, Nasrin," he says, withdrawing his hand and digging in. He's very careful to eat over the tray. "So, what's up?"
Nasrin	"The opposite of down, typically." Nas replies. "HOwever, fi you're asking about recent events... not much. I'm on leave from my 'side job'. From where do you come from, Jimmy?" She inquites, carefully picking up the pita, pulling off a bite-sized chunk of meat, vegetables and pita, and pops it into her mouth.
Jimmy Wen	"You're not wrong," he says, one finger pointed upwards in a facetiously conciliatory manner. He smirks and takes a sip of his boiled Coke. Now, 'where do you come from' means a variety of things here, so he takes a moment. "Earth six siiiiixty... /seven/? Oh, man, I dunno which one." He huffs. Gonna have to remember the nomenclature, Jimmy. With resignation, he adds, "If you know Harry Dresden, I'm from his Earth. Raised in Hong Kong, moved to a place called Los Angeles when I was about seventeen or eighteen."
Nasrin	"Ah, what a coincidence. I'm also from an Earth. Though I'm from Cairo, Anno Domini 1188, or there about." she replies. She folds her arms over her work, and peers up at him, curiously. "I have heard Hong Kong is... crowded. Is that true?"
Jimmy Wen	"Very true! About six or seven million people live there, as of /my/ current year, Anno Domini 2014. I'm sure some things have changed since I moved, but, I'll tell you this, there's no place like it." He takes a bite out of his pizza, measured so he doesn't make a mess. "So what's your Cairo like?" He's actually very interested to hear Nasrin's answer--how often (aside from Ancient Mai) do you get to meet living history? Note: don't call her that.
Nasrin	It's never good to talk about a lady's age. Nasrin purses her lips. "Saladin recently freed Egypt from Crusader rule, a Templar fortification falling. I grew up dodging wars and picking pockets... but there is no place like home, no?" she gives a small smile and a soft scoffing sound. "Everyt ime I speak of it I am told how awful it must have been, but it was home."
Jimmy Wen	"Oh, I know what you mean, and I agree--completely." He points at Nasrin with a pizza crust. "That was part of why I left Hong Kong. I mean, just a general thing, not specifically the Templars." He chuckles. "Although I did meet one on the radio," he muses. What an interesting place the Multiverse is! "Going back wouldn't really be prudent, but I'll always look back on it fondly."
Nasrin	"Why? Some supernatural group seeking to use your blood for a bizzare ritual? Gang of criminals out for blood after you testified against them? Secret organization seeking to destroy you and all you love in an ancient war of good versus evil with no clear outcome?" Nasrin inquires, her eyebrows rising up as she rips off another bit of pita.
Jimmy Wen	"Two, kinda sorta." One lonely slice of pizza remains, but he's still got plenty of Coke. "Being part of a secret society made them /think/ I was testifying against them, and, being a secret society, I couldn't exactly tell them the truth." He stirs his drink with a straw, idly playing with the lemon slice inside. "They had friends in LA, but I managed to talk them down. They still keep dragging me into their affairs, but they can be useful sometimes. It's not... comfy, but hey. Not many things in life are!"
Nasrin	"You have no idea." Nasrin gives a soft laugh. "So what's your secret society? Mages?" she asks, picking up her chocolate milk and sipping from it. Jimmy's gotten her attention, and she's focusing on her temporary companion with curiosity.
Jimmy Wen	Relax, Jimmy. This is a Union cafeteria. The wizard is quick to make up for his brief moment of silence. "Yeah, that's us," he says. "The White Council, sort of a supernatural nation. We make sure wizards--wizards from /our/ world," he says. Don't want to open up the can of worms labeled 'jurisdiction.' "Follow the Laws of Magic. And the ones that don't..." He pauses so the point is tastefully delivered. The pizza is finished. "Sorry," he says with regards to his earlier silence. "Not used to talking about it. It's okay to talk to Elites about it, but ever since a little thing called... well, hey, ever since the /Middle Ages/ talking to average Joes has been seen as kind of a Bad Idea."
Nasrin	"I am not an average joe." Nasrin points out. "I'm an extremely well educated street orphan from Cairo, who happens to share a bloodline with a group considered to be murderous terrorists of my time." she adds, and gives a shrug. "If you can't talk about it with someone like than, than who?"
Jimmy Wen	Jimmy Wen says, "Oh, I figured if you were in this cafeteria, you were some kind of special. You just caught me off guard, is all--I haven't been playing ball with the Multiverse for very long. But hey. At least we had similar upbringings, it sounds like! I mean, aside from the words 'murderous,' 'orphan,' and 'terrorist.'""
Nasrin	"Trust me. Your upbringing is probably very different and must nicer than mine was." Nasrin replies. "Murderous orphan terrorist killers aside." she flips the bage on her notebook. "So, you're a wizard then, who keeps tabs on other wizards?"
Jimmy Wen	"More or less. The Wardens are actually the guys that do the policing, most of the time, but the Council as a whole, including them, keeps tabs on any number of supernatural entities and nations that might A) threaten our autonomy or B) threaten our safety. I said we're a supernatural nation earlier because we're not the only one. The good part of that is that me and every other wizard in the Council has a vote when we decide policy, except for special circumstances. The bad part, as I'm sure a self-avowed terrorist and survivor of the Crusades knows, is that sometimes, things get uncivilized between us and the other 'nations.'"
Nasrin	"The Crusaders might have been assholes, but I'm pretty sure most men despise the killing of children. I was fortunate." She comments, defensively, but she leans back a m oment in her chair. "Well, of course. Likely even amongst yourselves things can devolve. Everyone has an opinion on the 'right way' of things. Goodness knows my mentor and I had /very/ different ideas much of the time."
Jimmy Wen	Heh. "Devolve? /Us/?" The sarcasm drips almost audibly. He chuckles and takes a swig of his drink, savoring the touch of ginger the chef added. A little bit of silence to let the joke pass. "Generally, the Merlin steps in before we start banging our shoes on the tables and caning people. Fun little bits of world history for you--google 'Caning of Sumner' and 'UN shoe-banging incident." Ah, Google. The short amount of time young Jimmy could use it without breaking a computer was sweet. "Anyway, we /do/ have our disagreements, but they don't usually go above a groan, muttered shit-talking, or that special, dismissive look only the old fogeys can manage."
Nasrin	"I see my brothers' disagreements are much safer. We only have tongues and swords. Our boots are too hard to take off and put back on again to rap them against tables." she comments lightly, a smile on her face. "OH, I know /THAT/ look quite well. My mentor used to have a stare that would wither trees."
Jimmy Wen	What is it with old mentors, anyway? "Mine too," he says sagely. "So, speaking of secret societies, what's yours do? I don't get the idea you're just a general 'wreck things because I can' type, but hey, I've been wrong before. What's your mission statement, if you will?"
Nasrin	"We basically fight for the right of all people to seek their own fates, and to explore their own choices and responcibility. We seek peace through understanding each other, protecting the innocent, and encouraging others to think freely." pause, and she gives a smile. "The three greatiest hypocrisies of my order, you would say... but none of us are wizards."
Jimmy Wen	Jimmy chuckles. "Well, it's sad to say I can understand why you'd be branded a murderer and a terrorist for that. There's a distressing amount of people working against the free flow of information. I guess I'm one of them, in my own way. If I could be sure we wouldn't just get a repeat of the Salem Witch Trials, I'd say, hey, open the floodgates. Unfortunately, a person can be smart, but people, in our experience, are stupid." He pauses. "And don't think that doesn't apply to us."
Nasrin	"It's more than the free flow of information. It's control over concious thought. Enslaving people's minds may result in peace, but it's not a real sense of peace." Nasrin replies... and she considers a moment. And she furrows her brow. "The Salem Witch Trials were... before my brothers' time in the Americas. I'd read of them."
Jimmy Wen	Jimmy nods. "Some of us--not myself, obviously--were alive and hiding out during them. It's that mentality, plus the fact that there are things like flamethrowers, sarin gas, and nuclear warheads, that make us /very/ jumpy about revealing ourselves to the public. But at least, I can say this. Enslaving people's minds is not what we're about at all. All we want to do is support each other, improve our craft, and maybe pitch in to protect humanity from the shadows every once in a while. There are a lot of things that go bump in the night in my neck of the woods."
Nasrin	"There are monsters worse than hiding in the thoughts of men that dwell in the hearts of them." NAsrin replies. "Magic like that does not exist in my world; there were innocent people killed there for political reason." she frowns. "... I suppose in that we are akin of mind -- we protect people from that which they cannot overpower alone."
Jimmy Wen	"Oh, there were certainly people killed for political reasons. Wizards and the magical bloodlines we come from are a minority. But... I'm beginning to get that same idea, yes. That we're kind of like-minded. I won't say we're like a bunch of superheroes. Even as organized as we are, there's only so many of us, and we can't afford to cowboy our way into every little thing..." Despite the best efforts of certain younger wizards named Harry Dresden. Jimmy chuckles.
Nasrin	"I don't know. One of my brothers is a cowboy. I imagine the only thing he can do is cowboy his way into things." she replies. She does not smile. Was it a joke?
Jimmy Wen	"Really? .../really?/" He just sort of sits there, looking at her with raised eyebrows. He almost looks down the bridge of his nose in an are-you-messing-around manner. "Well," he says somewhat cautiously, awaiting a punchline. "I'd, uh... love to meet him sometime, I guess?"
Nasrin	"Yes. Really." And that does make her smile, watching him wait for the punchline. "You may hear him on the bands... but we all live very separate lives."