Slaughter

Slaughter
Washington Park After Dark, a Summer Concert series, the smell of sausages in the air, a mesh-net of delectable grease mixed with the fresh-hewn smell of wet grass and the distant lake. The Museum of Science and Nature is a sponsor: there's a stage set up near the Wyncken, Blynken and Nod statue, a conductorless orchestra called Verve playing something sweeping and grandiose and oh it is the theme to Jurassic Park, while a booth over there at the outskirts is collecting donations for an Important Cause and the booth over there is selling some local art and the booth over there is actually a taco cart and a Vietnamese-French cart and the booth over there is set up with easy-to-understand demonstrations of simple Scientic Laws, over there are a couple of Rube Goldberg machines which will be entered in the Rube Goldberg Competition at the end of the month and the public is invited to view tonight. Over there, a little separate from the rest, is a tent selling drinks and a security guard, and over there is an open air book vendor, used books and new books all for sale, plus teeshirts commemorating Denver's Summer Concerts 2014 and on the back the date and name and location of each concert.

The musicians are good. Slaughter is here, too, in a short-sleeved top, her arms folded over her chest, listening to the music quite alone on the end of a bench. Prime location, that. Most people are sitting on the floor.

Verna
School starts in a week. And then, Jon Marc will know where to find Verna every day she teaches, isn't that a wonderful thought? So far, she's been keeping him away by attending the nicer places in town (because she doubts very seriously that a guy like him would be caught dead in a library).

Tonight, it's to a summer concert series -- thankfully a free event. She's rather given up on finding a decent job before the semester starts, and ramen goes down well with water, does it not? Don't let the fresh-pressed navy blue and peach outfit fool you -- Verna tries very hard not to look her tax bracket. All that time on her hands leaves plenty for ironing.

The theme to Jurassic Park starts playing, and it's one of those Michael Crichton book-turned-movies about how science is a mad enterprise run by short-sighted fools who will surely doom the world by playing god. If the man only understood... But oh well. It was an excuse to watch dinosaurs on the TV.

She's been up and around viewing the Rube Goldberg machines and the simple science demonstrations, because they are adorable. All that standing in heels on uneven ground has her feet throbbing though, and looking for a bench -- like that one Slaughter has.

"Excuse me," Verna says, "May I share your bench?"

Because she's not going to sit on the ground in a dress and get it dirty. There are standards.

Slaughter
Let's take a look at the woman who has the bench.

Slaughter. Slaughter, who is famous in circles that are not scientific, but has not been recognized here.

Slaughter is in her late twenties or her early thirties; at that indeterminate age when she would no longer be called a young woman, but is not yet an old woman. Her features are strong, her eyebrows a slash of darkness that could denote humor or intensity depending on the moment. Her skin is fair, pale even with a kiss of gold behind, a natural consequence of inheritance, and her hair black and gathered at the nape of her neck in a loose pony tail. Her mouth is painted pink; her short-sleeved top is a blouse, chiarroscurro colors, a touch of eye make-up, just a hint of tasteful smoke to deepen mystery and sharpen the color of her eyes. 

Slaughter is also generous; observe how she is both reserved (no; not reserved, simply: assured of her place here, in her skin, alone) and welcoming. Her smile is an easy thing, crinkles lines around her eyes and touches her features with candid warmth. Lines around her mouth, too.

"Go ahead. I'm not saving the spot."

And, once Verna has settled, not before, not too hasty, not too slow, "Have you been to any of these other Park After Dark things?"

Verna
"Oh yes, they're quite nice," Verna replies, a little voice to go along with the staid young woman. "Especially tonight, with the science exhibits. Have you seen them?"

There was a mini-riot composed of children trying to get their hands into glow-in-the-dark green oobleck while Verna was in the area. Maybe they've rethought that particular one by now, but so far no one has bothered the pendulum drawing its ellipses in the sand. Something about the sanctity of an object set in motion perhaps?

Slaughter
"I haven't wandered through yet. It's funny, just the other day I was thinking about going to the Museum of Nature and Science, and tonight I had an unexpected free night and came upon this by chance. It's a cool combination. Are you a teacher of the sciences?"

Her voice is friendly, too, easy to get swept up by that cool-as-cream assurance, by that pewter-drawn steadiness, something that's ready to be wry but isn't yet. Serene.

Verna
"W-- what makes you say that?" Verna asks, and is she rubbing one foot with the other foot yet? Yeah, she is.

"I mean, I didn't think I had 'physics teacher' scrawled across my forehead just yet," she laughs. It's a nervous tittering thing. "I will be in a week."

And she swallows hard, like that's not something she's entirely prepared for. Oh if only Doctor Andrassy were still here. He'd be able to help.

Slaughter
The warm spark of a smile again, whispering up to touch lines into being around her eyes and the corners of her mouth; serenity mingling with knowing, and Slaughter looks over toward the exhibits, watching the flow of foot traffick. The orchestra finishes the Jurassic Park theme with a flourish, gears up for something else thematically appropriate, but for a few moments quiet except for the sounds of the crowd, of wind combing through trees and parting the scents of food to bring the more subtle smell of night-blooming jasmine their way.

"I'm a good guesser. Do you have plans to get any physics in-joke tattoos after surviving your first week? I've always heard Physics Majors get the most interesting tattoos.""

Verna
"Well, I certainly don't go for tattoos myself, though I'm sure there are some... interesting ones on the students, yes. I did once see a spherical cow tattoo that this guy was showing off in class. Mu the cow," Verna says, and rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't call it exactly interesting."

"And then there's the people who think pi is the best thing to have permanently done in their skin, except that it's so common."

She looks out over the dark, lit by laterns and lights. "If I survive the first week, I'll be surprised, though."

Slaughter
"I bet you won't even have time to be surprised until a year's gone by, then you'll wonder how you ever worried and forget all about it.

"What would you get done if you did go in for tattoos?" Slaughter asks, the skin around her eyes still crinkled although the smile is just a faint curve of her serious mouth now. People don't smile all the time. That's more threatening and unsettling than the other, in some respects. She has no visible ink herself, but who knows?

Verna
Verna does ponder that. She's never had occasion to think about personal tattoo choices. It's a better thing to think on than the fact that the whole surviving the first week deal may be a little more literal than the other woman expects, depending on how seriously her enemies take their threats.

When did she become a person with enemies?

"Mmm. Probably an amplituhedron. It's pretty enough for a tattoo I suppose. What about you?"

Slaughter
"What's an amplituhedron?"

The orchestra is doing Lord of the Rings now: because everybody loves Lord of the Rings music. Those soaring violins to denote the riders of Rohan, beautiful strands of heartache.

Slaughter's pronuncuation of the word is delicate, cautious, as if conscious that the syllables run together somewhat for her.

"As for me... something wordy. Invictus, perhaps. But I have a feeling that Invictus is rather common. No, probably something by Apollonius of Macedonia. I enjoy his poems. Maybe a little Thoth on my ankle."

"I'm Jane by the way."

Verna
"An amplituhedron is a geometric representation of a particle interaction, but they've also got quite nice shapes. Pretty. I suppose if I wanted to go old-school and more respectable, I'd draw out a Feynman diagram on myself. Would have to come up with a good one..."

The orchestra plays something beautiful and sad. Of course it makes her mind wander back to her missing boss. It almost makes her forget that the other woman is talking. Oh pay attention! -- "that Invictus is rather common..."

"Hmm," Verna says, and smiles. "You have me there. I don't know who Apollonius of Macedonia is. Was. My name's Verna."

Slaughter
[Yes! I'm sorry! A pause! I'll be back tonight if I can otherwise see AIM!]