Expositors Incorpor8ed

She tilted her head a little with a smile, as if this wasn’t something Aranea had heard a dozen times. Porrim with some frequency went on about ‘expression of self’ when it came to appearances and what someone wore, both as clothes and on their skin. It was one of the reasons her tattoo went as yet unfinished. That combined with lack of funds and that Porrim wanted to have some connection with the person inking her. Things like that mattered to her, after all.

She nearly choked on her drink when Aranea started to talk about…that. She managed to keep her composure through what she was very certain didn’t seem at ALL like a sneeze, but which she desperately tried to play off as one before smiling a genuine smile, leaning forward a bit without thinking(though it was to advantage) and pretending as if she hadn’t heard the little slip.

She beams, hands down and shoulders a bit high, but the expression is genuinely pleased. "Or, of course, there's always Wam^Lart's craft section~"

Aranea waits for Porrim's insulted reaction, laughing easily. It wasn't that she wasn't dwelling on her slip-- Boy, was she ever. But if she had learned ANYTHING from Vivienne Serket, it was that when your opponent let you get away with a slip, you ran from it as far and fast as you could. She was willing to embrace her mother's tactics for once if it lead to a happier lunch date with her estranged infatuation.

...Lunch date.

Aranea don't you fucking DARE. It's not a date. It's not even a girls who are friends having a lunch date, date. It's just a meeting. It's a brunch. It's a get-together. Stop it

Still, she smiled when the girl arrived and the smile was, more than anything else, genuine. Her company was pleasant, and she was absolutely lovely in her chosen outfit. Contrast and counterpoint to Porrim herself, and she had to put effort to keep her eyes from twinkling at the girl. She wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

"Nothing I made for myself this time, unfortunately, but I’m between projects, and working space, at the moment. Roommate shenanigans, shuffling of students at all. And as to waiting…"

She shifted, glancing pointedly down at her watch before looking back to Aranea with a smirk twisting black painted lips, “You’re early, you couldn’t have kept me waiting, dear.”

Sighing with relief as she's told she hadn't kept Porrim waiting, she still lets out a nervous little twitter and smooths her skirt, whether because of the comment or having caught that 'dear' at the end. Talking came easier than normal, immediately.

"Oh, no? That's a shame, your designs are always so creative. I still remember that dress you made for Meenah a few years back, the one with the tentacle streamers for the skirt? It took her almost a week to figure out it was supposed to look like a squid," she says, chuckling. There, that was much better. Meenah was always a safe topic to pick when she needed to keep herself in check. "Actually, she started doing this thing for formal events... Every time she found out she had to wear a dress, she would just sigh like the event had been organized to inconvenience her personally..."

She pauses briefly when the waitress comes by to ask for a lemonade, then fiddles with the straw, stirring it as she smiles and talks. "Then once she'd settled down, she would always say things like, "They've left me with no choice, Serks. Looks like it's time to RELEASE THE KRAKEN."" Even though she'd surely told the story a hundred times before, she still chuckles at it herself, head cocked.

"Sorry, I suppose it's not Meenah you wanted to talk about today... She hasn't really changed much since--"

There's a beat.

"The fuck is this? Some sort of… some sort of chemical show?"

Wait, someone was talking to her. Her neck hurt, but she turned to face who it was slowly, as if her head was in syrup. Aranea! Of all the places to find her. It always seemed to be the case that when she went looking for her, she couldn’t be found, and when she wasn’t, she’d stumble across her. It made perfect sense she’d be here today.

"Oh, Meenah..." she mutters, and there's a lot said in just her tone of voice. "You're always so stubborn, why on earth did you get out of bed this morning? Honestly, what am I going to do with you? You could have gotten yourself into god knows what-- Huh? Oh, actually I was surprised to see you WEREN'T in this class. It really is wonderful, Meenah, we've been talking about energy consumption and setting things on fire! For science!"

It's obvious that she catches herself right before she can go into a full rant, and instead strokes Meenah's hair as she turns to tell the teacher she has to go-- Loathe as she is to miss out on education, she's not about to leave Meenah alone in such a state. She's seen her BFF(which she had the necklace to prove) so seldom lately, she's absolutely not going to miss out on a chance to baby her a little.

"Come on, Meenah, let's find you somewhere to lay down..."

Porrim sat kicking her feet a little bit, having worn a knee length dress that clung to her frame and, if she was being honest, made her look a little saucier than was really appropriate for a lunch date between friends. She was rapidly losing control of herself regarding the Aranea situation, and she was sure even the waitress noticed her biting her straw, even if the woman had no idea that that was anything out of the ordinary. Her red shoes clicked together occasionally, but no ruby slippers could rescue her from the world of bullshit that her feelings had become.

There's a flash of unmasked surprise across her face as she spots Porrim already there waiting for her, her recently painted nails digging into the cover of the book she habitually carried, but it's overtaken by a smile a moment later and she half-jogs the last few yards to the table.

"Hi!" she says, perhaps a bit too brightly, then fussily tucks her own hair behind her ears to hide her embarrassment. "I mean, uh, hello Porrim. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." She hangs her bag on the back of the chair, smoothing her skirt to take a seat and keeping the book, as always, in her lap.

Meenah felt awful, like she had been beaten up underwater. Her head swam, as she stumbled through the halls of the university, half-mad as her body fought off infection, chest and throat burning. But rest and respite were for the weak, and she’d rather be dipped in acid than miss class. You don’t stay at the top by taking days off.

Still, she was hoping this lab at least would offer her something more substantial to do with her time. Sure, she didn't even remotely have to take any chemistry classes for her masters, but how was one to pass up a class that amounted to 'what catches fire best and why 101'? You weren't, that's how.

When the door crashes open, half the class jumps, but she doesn't look up immediately, currently twisting a cheese curl over a Bunsen burner and focusing on her task until she hears someone make a comment. "Wow, she looks dead on her feet." "Is that girl even IN this class...?"

Aranea’s endlessly grateful that Porrim either doesn’t notice, or is ignoring, her faltering behavior. She’s not usually such a wreck, and she hopes she gets some equilibrium back by their next encounter, or else the entire thing promises to be thoroughly humiliating.

…

That way lied disaster, and she knew it. Like a slow motion train-wreck, she swore to herself.

"Haha, look at you. You’re smarter than anyone, y’know. And not just cause of all the book stuff, that’s just diligence, one of your other myriad good features, but you really are brilliant. Half-twelve for lunch?"

The opportunity for lunch with her was an unexpected thrill. She was still hurting, of course, who wouldn't be after what had happened? But she almost always forgave easily... Though this wasn't really a case of forgiveness.

"Oh, stop it...," she demurs, pulling at a lock of hair and blushing as she drops her gaze. "Now you're just being ridiculous, surely I've done nothing in the past ten minutes that merits such flattery... Unless, perhaps, you're buttering me up to pay for that lunch~"

When Terezi accepts her help, Aranea's grin is of glee and relief, and she swoops right in to take the opposite corners and help get the sheet in the right directions, then jimmy the mattress up on her shoulder. "Here, pull it on while I hold it up-- They are certainly vivid! I bet they'd look fantastic under a blacklight. Hm, these beds are kind of oddly long, aren't they? I wonder why that is. College dorms having oddly long Twin beds, I mean. You'd think it would be easier to just have the regular size, but--"

"Well, Saturday I have the day off, we could hit up that cute coffee shop just down the block from the dorms and see if they’re any good for lunch. Or is that too soon?"

Aranea's endlessly grateful that Porrim either doesn't notice, or is ignoring, her faltering behavior. She's not usually such a wreck, and she hopes she gets some equilibrium back by their next encounter, or else the entire thing promises to be thoroughly humiliating.

...

Aside from the BRILLIANCE that was asking her out to lunch. Fuck. Well, sleep in the bed you make Porrim. She almost visibly winced at her own poor mental word choice. Whelp.

"I uh, I do still have your number, actually." Lies, technically. Deleted from her phone to eliminate accidents or poor choices. But she DID still have it memorized, since she can’t exactly scrub her own memory clean. "Your screen name is so apt, especially now given your newly employed status, I could figure it out even if I had forgotten it." She barely kept from wincing again at that. STUPID Porrim, the longer you talk to her the more likely you are to make more mistakes like that, but you already offered lunch to catch up, and you couldn’t SURVIVE disappointing her again after…

"Oh good, I wasn't sure. I never delete a number myself, you never know when you're going to need it or need to know who's calling YOU, you know?" Unlike Porrim, that was a full truth. Aranea hated to lose knowledge of any kind, even seemingly inconsequential phone numbers.

Aranea had a BIG address book.

The comment makes her roll her eyes, and the restraint with which she keeps herself from face palming is obvious in every line of her body.

"Mmhm-- Call me Pollyanna, but I'll always see the good in her despite... well. Her. Is there anywhere particular you wanted to meet up? Or anywhen? I joke about the ball and chain, but really, my schedule is quite flexible." Lie. She hated rescheduling things. "So perhaps not IMMEDIATELY-- I uh. I'm honestly having kind of a DAY, today, which I only just remembered. But tomorrow or after would be..."

"Well, you do know me so well." Porrim you’re an idiot. "But I’ve got to make sure I see what everyone else has done, so I can be absolutely certain I don’t do any of it a second time. If I’m not a rarity, I do a disservice to everyone."

You give a genuine smile, until you’re done speaking, and your eyes are on your ex. You had a lot of them, but you didn’t exactly pine like you did for her. Different circumstances, and a much sorer wound.

"That would be wonderful. Coffee or lunch or something?"

No, Porrim, it wouldn’t be wonderful, it would be awful. Sitting through a whole lunch of pretending you still aren’t into your ex who you absolutely CANNOT date sounds like a punishment reserved for people who talk in theaters.

'Sore' was definitely a word one could use to describe both their feelings on this matter. It hadn't been a good situation, but those seem par for the course with Aranea's social connections, so she doesn't even question it.

"If you'll forgive the predictability of it all, I actually do work at a book store, so that's a legitimate statement to make. It's become less of a hobby and more of, 'my life is the bibliophile singularity,' at this point." She rolls her funny-looking eyes, then turns her bright smile back on Porrim. "But to actually answer the question, absolutely. That would be fantastic. Do you still have my number...?"

She tries not to wince at her own question.

Instead, she smiled a winning sort of smile, showing off teeth and dark lips, and nodded, “Yeah, I’m taking fashion design and a couple cool art secondaries myself…”

She drops a joke she almost made because while Aranea had approved of bad pervy puns when they dated, there was nothing to indicate she would after. Porrim had. Sort of unilaterally broken up with her

"No time for anything except whatever bullshit Meenah is pulling you into, that is. And I might make it a habit to actively seek you out now that you’re here, of course."

In and out, in and out, quirk your smile a little. Tilt your head. Tuck your hair behind your ear. Be natural.

Cocking her head a little to the side, she laughs a little, sweeping some of her pale hair out of her eyes. "Well, color me shocked. Porrim Maryam, artistic soul of the century, taking organized classes on the subject? Mind that the institution doesn't stifle your juices, my friend."

The comment makes her stop, eyebrows shooting up in surprise, but she beams a half-second later, hugging her books tighter to her chest.

"She's as steamed as a clam that I wouldn't room with her, so of course she drags me into every mess she can find. I would like that, though. Seeing you more, I mean. It's been a while. We should have a proper chat sometime, I can tell you just what she's been digging up for me to sort out."

She was very rarely caught off guard, and even rarer still were situations where Porrim Maryam didn’t at least pretend like she still had control of herself, or the situation she was in. So that made the little ‘oh’ she made, a sound choked down at the back of her throat, and those moments where she just stood, staring and taking in Aranea’s features, all the more uncommon. And, in spite of her best efforts, incredibly intimate.

She brought herself back together moments later, fluttering in her chest or no, and pushed the voice in the corner of her mind back into it’s chair and firmly replaced it’s ‘DUNCE’ cap. She righted herself, involving a visible adjustment of her shirt, and picked up the book Aranea dropped, glancing at the title before offering it to her, putting on a smile that was a little less believable than usual, and trying to salvage some composure.

"Hey Nea, I didn’t know you went here too. How have things been?"

"Ahah, ah, y-yes! I'm working on my degree this time around, they have a wonderful library science program here. It's rather incredible, the amount of specialized career education that one school can offer. Still, Skaia's an awfully large place. I suppose that's why we didn't run into one another sooner. I mean, I hardly even see Meenah around sometimes, and she actively seeks my company. N-not that we're not friends, of course, I just mean it in terms of... Well. You know how Meenah is. You've met, I think? Or is it just that I tell so many stories about her I forget who was actually there...?"

Classic Aranea self-defense: start blabbering about nothing until you get your composure back. She's just an ex-girlfriend, Aranea, nothing to panic about. Sure it ended badly but you can still be friends. It's Porrim. You -adore- Porrim. Just breathe, act natural... It seems to have done the trick, since by the end of it she's not shuffling constantly to keep the books balanced, or otherwise fidgeting. In fact, she looks downright at ease.

Porrim was rarely, if ever, late. This is, of course, by her own scale. If class started at 10:00 and she showed at 10:15, she did so on purpose, and for some reason or another. Be it to prove a point or because she simply did not want to be there until that time. As a result of this careful bit of planning, and the fact that she’d no intention of showing up to this particular math lecture, she the tallish girl’s path today ended up taking her, through early afternoon, down a side hall in one of the wings of the school frequently used by the fashion design students. After all, if she was going to skip a class irrelevant to her degree, may as well use the time to get more work done towards aforementioned degree.

Thanks VERY much for that, mother, you despicable, rotten--

Too lost in her own sullen thoughts-- she had been an entire ten minutes late for a lecture-- she nearly walks right into the next person who turns the corner. With her head down and her hair falling in a curtail around her eyes, she hadn't even NOTICED, and her jolt of surprise sends her armful of books off balance. She has to scramble to catch them, and one still slips out the crash down right on her foot.

She doesn't curse or jump, just flinches and lets out a whimper of defeat. It's becoming one of those days, and she dreads looking up to see who she almost walked into-- probably Meenah in a mood, or some important official, or...

"P-porrim!?"

Even worse.

Finally, she musters up the energy to roll off the bed. She finds the box again and starts unpacking it. This one iiiiiiiiiiiiis… oh good, a fitted sheet. The sheet and blanket set she’d bought for her college bed was an outrageous mess of rainbow and zebra stripes, bright enough that she could sort of see it and probably horrifying to anyone else over the age of twelve. She loves them.

"Pfft-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-- You were a Lisa Frank fan as a child, weren't you?" She smiles as she says it, head cocked, but then she wonders what exactly the state of Terezi's eyes IS. She seems to be moving around just fine, but then again, Aranea's never been in close quarters with someone who was blind before. Maybe that was normal? And the braille labels... Oh, was her head ever spinning.