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Summary: Moxie is really bad at taking care of herself and Seth finally feels compelled to do something about it.

Date It Happened: December 17, 2001



The Starbucks glows brightly in the darkening evening, some extra touches added here and there to indicate the approaching holiday, and of course, the piped music has been nothing but pop Christmas carols for weeks now. The place is busy with Christmas shoppers taking a break, an eclectic mix of business-people stopping in for a chat before the trek home, and the party goers, killing time until it's late enough to make a fashionable entrance.

Somehow, despite this, Moxie has managed to keep an entire table for four all to her lonesome. It might have something to do with the large boots she's currently resting atop it, reclined back in the uncomfortable chair as she plays with an empty cup, gradually unrolling the rim as she works her way around.

Fidget, fidget, fidget - there's a Man in the Starbucks. That's not unusual in and of itself. A lot of men come here to get drinks or to humor their significant others. But this man? This man? He's here for a deal. That's why he's sitting at a table for two, twitching up a nervous storm and trying to rub the sweat off of his palms. He's not used to doing this sort of thing and it shows, and it's just about time for his contact to—

The strand of bells on the door jingle cheerily, only to have their happy sounds dampened by the heavy, ponderous THUNK of an ironwood cane. Normally the warlock wouldn't be caught dead in this place, but it's convenient and not too bad a walk from the library he had spent the majority of the day in. There's a football-sized package wrapped in last Sunday's newspaper tucked under his right arm, and after a moment of scanning the shop the cripple starts limping towards the Twitchy Man.

Moxie isn't really one to read the paper that's been left behind by the table's previous occupant, which leaves her a lot of time for people watching. Twitchy man gets noticed along with the others, and Mox amuses herself by making fun of him in her head as she continues worrying the cup, now almost completely done unravelling the rim of it. But in turning it over in her hands, she accidentally spills a little of the cold coffee on herself. "Oh, ew," she mutters under her breath, wiping her hand off on the leg of her skinny jeans. By the time she's done that, she looks up just in time to see a certain someone limping his way over towards Twitchy Man. Her eyebrows go up, but she keeps quiet, just watching curiously for now.

The package is tossed down onto Twitchy's table without a word as soon as Seth is close enough to throw it safely. The man stares at it for several moments before squinting up through his glasses at the warlock, who just stares right back at him. His hand is still outstretched expectantly. It takes Twitchy a few moments more to catch on and with an embarrassed 'Oh!' the - customer? - has produced a check, which Seth promptly pockets. As if he owned the place the warlock then hits Twitchy's leg with his cane hard enough to make the other man wince. "Get out of here." Twitchy is off like a shot, package in hand, limping slightly. And then Seth takes his seat.

Moxie sits up finally, dropping her feet to the floor and crossing her arms over the edge of the table, leaning forward slightly to get a better view of the business deal going down. Whatever curiosity did to the cat, she's not too worried. Her gaze follows Twitchy Man as he bolts, but then flickers back to the warlock who still seems to be oblivious to her presence. She ponders drawing his attention, but holds off, waiting to see if anything else interesting is going to happen first. The cup is shoved aside, forgotten. This spying stuff is definitely more fun.

Seth isn't feeling very interesting today. About the extent of his purpose in staying in the Starbucks is to take his weight off of his bad leg, which he does almost immediately: the man's cane snakes out to snag a rung of the table's unoccupied chair, pulling it out far enough for him to put up his aching leg. He unhooks the cane and then hangs it off the back of his own chair, reclining easily. It's been a pretty good day so far.

From Moxie's table there suddenly comes a burst of laughter - giggling to be precise. The teen makes a face, quickly clapping her hands over her mouth, trying to suppress them or at least quiet them down, but they're uncontrollable, and she just can't stop. People at the surrounding tables look over at the sudden ruckus, but tend to turn back quickly when they see the source is a heavily-made up teen girl. Teenagers, hmph.

Who's a what now? The abrupt and inappropriate onset of Moxie's giggling fit draws Seth's attention, and he's soon squinting at her rather suspiciously. Unlike the other teenage-haters the warlock is a truly fierce anti-youth supporter, and he sneers in a way that's really rather impolite, folding his arms tightly over his chest. "You."

Moxie just can't seem to stop the laughter, even as she tries to give Seth a dirty look when he finally notices her. "What? I was here first!" she protests through giggles, which just make it sound like some joke that's missing a punch-line. She covers her face, muttering something in between giggles and gulps of air, and it would be dark and annoyed except she can't manage to get there.

The laughing is what's getting at the warlock. He doesn't approve of it at all. He flips his cane back down and uses it to point aggressively at the girl, lip curling magnificently in disgust. "Stop that or I'll clock you one right on your silly little head."

Moxie would keep laughing just to spite him, except now, of course, it seems to be wearing off. She takes a few deep breaths and manages to calm herself before giving him a dirty look. A real one this time. "They call that child abuse," she points out in annoyance, though she seems more annoyed about the giggling than the threats. "You're not the boss of me."

"What you call child abuse everyone else would call a blessing as long as it shuts you up." Because kids should be seen and not heard. Still, Seth makes no move to carry out his threat and simply reclines again, his cane settled across his lap. "So, Julie. How's truancy working out for you?"

"And what'll it take to shut /you/ up?" Moxie returns, making a sour face at him. Because she's rubber and he's glue or something. "And what am I supposed to be truant from?" she asks, having been away from school long enough now not to even consider it a factor. She considers herself more a dropout than a truant.

Seth has no idea. But he just waves a hand - "Truant from whatever it is you should be doing that isn't sitting around in a Starbucks talking to a guy you barely know." The 'that saved you from vampires' part is conveniently left out, but is probably freely implied. He smiles.

"Like wandering the streets?" Moxie points out with a shrug, lifting her eyebrows a little. Hanging out in Starbucks is probably one of the more responsible things she's done in awhile. "And, dude, you aren't that hard to figure out. Not like you're deep. It doesn't take very long to get to know a shallow person. Sort of the point of shallowness." To further this claim, she now moves to vacate her table and join him at his, sans invitation, of course.

"Oh, so now you're homeless? That's just peachy, Julie, and it explains so much. And if you're such a genius-" He draws out the last word in what's almost a purr, though clearly a mocking one "-then explain myself to me. Do. I invite you to." As the girl approaches the cripple swings his leg down from the other chair at the table, resting it instead against the floor at an angle.

"I'm not /homeless/," Moxie insists, sounding as if this might get under the skin just a little more than his other digs. "I got a place. Why doesn't anyone ever believe that?" She drops into the recently vacated chair, crossing her arms and leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "Hey man, I'm not your shrink. Unless you want to pay me a hundred dollars an hour. But you seem to try /really/ hard not to be deep, so I thought you'd be glad to be shallow." She shrugs, feigning disinterest as she gives him a sidelong look.

What the hell. Why not? It's not as though Seth is lacking in funds. Without responding verbally he leans to one side so he can dig around, pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. Thumb, thumb, thumb - and then he tosses five twenties onto the table between himself and the girl. She's stared at. Expectantly. Sure it's probably not what she expected, but the warlock likes to find out what others think of him. He's conceited that way.

Moxie's eyes open up real wide as he throws the money down so casually. But even in her surprise, she doesn't hesitate to sweep it up and tuck it away in her pocket before he can change his mind. "Seriously?" she then (and only then) asks, giving him an incredulous look. She considers for a moment and then shrugs, "It's your money." For all her glibness about how easy he is to figure out, she actually takes a moment to think about it, frowning thoughtfully as she studies him. "Well, you try really hard to keep people away. So either someone's hurt you, or you're just a sociopath. And I think you're okay with being a coward because it's easier that way. If you embrace it, you never have to be brave. Except then sometimes you are," she adds, considering their last meeting. "Maybe you're not as much of an asshole as you want to be," she decides with a shrug, her tone almost as if she's breaking bad news here. "And you got okay taste because you hang out with /me/. And you can argue without getting all worked up about it."

Seth watches Moxie with a slightly different tilt to his expression as she speaks, his brows furrowing together and his lips thinning. He waits a moment to think himself after she finishes speaking, and when he finally offers his own thoughts it's in a quieter and less-harsh tone than the one that usually comes out of his mouth. "I guess there are two hurt people at this table, then. Where are your parents?" It's not an accusation, it's not trying to wheedle information - it's just an honestly asked question. He rocks back in his chair again, this time to replace his wallet in its customary pocket.

Moxie leans back onto her elbows again, after pulling her sleeves down over her hands. She studies the table, absently nudging a crumb of someone's pastry around with her finger. "Gone," she says with a certain note of finality. "For good." She looks up, giving her head a little shake to clear her hair from her eyes, so that she can look over at him with a searching look while trying to guard her own expression but not quite managing to squash out every last bit of vulnerability like she usually does. "So who hurt you then?" she asks in a similar tone, rather than her regular way of turning everything back onto him.

"My wife. Who is now my ex-wife." Seth gives his left knee a short pat, then smiles at Moxie. "I haven't always been Limpy, charming though the nickname might be. We just didn't work out. Both of us are too aggressive." The warlock pauses to rub at the knee underneath his palm, squeezing its sides slowly and methodically. "If your parents are gone, where are you? You wander like a bum, so you're not employed. Not many people like to put up freeloaders."

Moxie's eyebrows go up a little and she glances down towards the knee as indicated. "Wow," she says in an understated tone, considering that. "And you still live with her?" It could be an incredulous question, but it seems the honest and level-headed approach is rubbing off on her, for it's just an honest one. She gives a little sigh at his question, frowning back down at the table. "I was staying with my sister until she split. But I look after myself. I find ways of making money." Some … more successful than others.

A nod. "Yes, we still live together. We're a special case." The warlock stretches one arm back to hook over his chair, the other hand coming forward to lightly rap its fingers across the table top absently. "So you're alone. How exactly are you making your money? And how old are you, really?"

"Clearly," Moxie replies, still looking a little confused as to how he could still be living with a woman who crippled him. But she's easily distracted by his questions and kept from asking her own - for now. "I'm fifteen. I'll be sixteen in June," she adds, as if that makes it better somehow. "And my sister left me a couple hundred bucks. And this guy is paying me to give him back some stuff I took. And apparently I'm also a shrink. It'll be enough." Somehow in her youthful short-sightedness, she's only looking as far as paying rent for the month upcoming. She'll worry about the next one when it gets here.

Seth looks almost stunned at the complete lack of forward planning exhibited by the girl in front of him. He quickly subdues his expression again and just frowns, his fingers tapping the table a bit harder for a few moments before stopping altogether. "What about utilities? Do you even have a phone? A bank account? Food?" That last bit is probably really important. As for the runaway sister, the information about her is shuffled away in Seth's mind for Later. The bad kind of 'Later'.

Moxie rolls her eyes, starting to get a little defensive now. "I /eat/, okay? I'm not starving. And everyone knows banks just take all your money anyway. I don't need a phone, because I got no one to call. Not like I'm going to sit up all night chatting about how hot Ashton is, anyway, so why are you getting on my case?" She sits up a little straighter, but doesn't remove her elbows from the table yet.

"Don't bother getting snippy with me, Julie. Trust me, I've been doing the jackass bit a lot longer than you have — and if you have an emergency you might need to get in touch with someone. You know what's out there. They have pointy teeth and garlic breath." Pausing briefly, Seth plucks a napkin out of the dispenser at the table and produces a pen from his jacket pocket, quickly scribbling down a number. About two seconds later he sighs in aggravation and rewrites the number legibly. "I'm getting on your case because you're being a stupid-ass kid, and I can help you. Here." The napkin is slid across the table. "I can also curse your sister if you do yard work. It's not like I'm mowing the lawn any more. There might be corpses in there and I'd never know it, it's so high now."

"Yeah, but I'm a teenager. I'm /supposed/ to be like this," Moxie points out, rolling her eyes and then turning a little sullen as he feels the need to remind her about things that go bump in the night. "Yeah, I didn't exactly forget." Still, she can't help her curiosity, leaning forward as he scribbles and then rewrites, and then she slides it the rest of the way, giving it a read before folding it and tucking it away. "I've never actually mowed a lawn before. We haven't had a lawn since I was ten. But, I mean, if you wanna /pay/ me, I can probably figure it out. My stupid sister is just … I dunno, we never got along. She's not worth it, I guess."

Teenagers. Seth doesn't like them very much. Moxie seems to be becoming some sort of twisted exception, though. "Mowing a lawn isn't that hard. And I'd pay you. I can always use someone to make deliveries for me - I'm not so keen on the whole walking thing, as I'm sure you've noticed." Having a screwed-up leg tends to make long walks through a city less than a wonderful notion. "Also, Julie. Don't be provoking demons or anything."

"Yeah, I could do that," Moxie agrees, mulling it over as if she has a bevy of lucrative job offers waiting for her to decide on one. "I know this city really well," she adds. Parts of it, anyway. Aimless wandering has its uses, which makes it not so aimless in the end. She rolls her eyes at his lecturing, and then? And then the giggles start again, just as she's replying, "I'm not going to provoke demons…" Which, of course, only serves to make it sound like she's joking. Her expression is annoyance though, even as the giggling overtakes her.

Seth leans back again as the girl at his table starts up her gigglings, a frown coming to his face. It's a blessing for Moxie that the annoying tick didn't manifest itself five minutes ago, because then the situation would be a very different one with lots more blood on the walls "And what's so funny, brat? Do I have my shirt on inside out?"

Moxie crosses her arms over the table, dropping her head down into the crook of her arm, trying to muffle, stop them /somehow/, but still they just keep coming. "Nothing!" she replies through the laughter, her voice muffled thanks to her hiding her face. "I can't- I can't not!" And she seems to find this completely hilarious for some reason.

Most people would probably immediately assume that excessive giggling is a product of a psychological break with reality, drugs, or teenage hormones. Seth's kind of person would probably first suspect a curse or hex of some sort, and the thought certainly crosses his mind. However he's not as different from the rest of the world as he'd like to think, so he promptly edges forward to hiss at Moxie: "Are you on drugs? Are you high?"

She's a teenager. They do that.

Thankfully, the giggles seem to be wearing off and Moxie sits up, taking a deep breath of fresh air and brushing her hair back off her face, gone slightly static-like now from her clothing. "God, I'm not on /drugs/," she replies as if this were a stupid, stupid question. She doesn't bother to keep her voice down, but then, from the looks she's getting, he's not the only one wondering that, so she might as well inform everyone at the same time, right?

"You'd better not be lying, Julie. Drugs are bad." It's not like underaged drinking is bad, though. It is in fact totally acceptable. Seth is still not certain that Moxie is not high as a kite but he's willing to let the subject drop for the time being. His moral obligations as an adult have been taken care of. "And you can't stop laughing. You weren't twittering like a moron the last time I saw you, so I take it this is new?"

"Drugs are bad? Seriously?" Moxie asks, though not as if she's asking if they're seriously bad. No, she's asking if he's seriously wanting to say that. But as he goes on, she heaves a sigh, her shoulders dropping. "It's new. It just … keeps happening. And at /really/ bad times," she adds in an annoyed grumble, glowering down at the table. And then, as if expecting his next question, she looks back up at him and adds abruptly, "And I'm not crazy either."

Yes. Drugs are bad. But at least Seth has the grace and social awareness to look somewhat embarrassed by his lame parental one-liner; it's pretty obvious that he's Not Used To Dealing With Children. Or teenagers. He frowns, lifting a hand to his chin so he can rub at his beard. "Anything unusual happen to you recently? Other than almost the being a tasty sweetmeat for a vampire."

Moxie gives a little smirk to his embarrassment, but is kind enough to let it drop with that. Maybe she's just distracted by his question. Her eyebrows go up and she cocks her head as if to say, 'Well…' Because, really, what hasn't been unusual lately? "There was a flying mask and this … monkey-man-thing," she begins, frowning thoughtfully. "But that was about a week ago. Then there was this guy who turned into a /really/ stinky flower after shooting someone and trying to torch the florist. And then there was that hairdryer-thing and the other thing that made it disappear. And then, of course, jail. It's been a weird week," she finally sums up.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. Shit. Yeah, all of that is. Shit. You're probably cursed in addition to being a crackhead delinquent." Seth pulls his seat in closer to the table, sitting sideways to put himself closer to Moxie while still letting his leg have enough room to stretch out. He's probably going to make some poor bastard trip right on his face — but whatever. Not his problem. "You're just some kind of trouble magnet. And you were in jail? What the hell did you do, attack someone with flower power?"

"/Cursed/?" Somehow Moxie still has it in her to be skeptical, despite the very odd week she's just finished detailing. "It's not /my/ fault stupid stuff keeps happening around me! And, well, just … never mind what I did," she replies, losing her bluster mid-sentence and slouching down in her chair, and from her sullen silence, it can only be something /horribly/ embarrassing. "You really think I'm cursed?" she asks, trying to bring the conversation back around to that instead.

When Moxie asks for confirmation the warlock just shrugs. "I'd say so. There's really no other explanation that comes to mind if you've been around so much supernatural activity. Flying masks. God. So nineteenth century." Obviously Moxie's encounters don't have any taste. But the girl's sudden change in attitude gets Seth to take an interest in the here-and-now once again, and he starts going about the business of staring her down. "…Spill. What'd you do?"

"Gee, sorry my weird week isn't /hip/ enough for you," Moxie replies, rolling her eyes and not sounding very sorry at all. But she's distracted from getting properly annoyed by his staring her down and asking her questions. She heaves a sigh and then looks down at the table, absently tracing over a bit of graffiti carved along the edge. "I … might have tried to hold up a convenience store," she finally admits, glimpsing up at him only briefly for his reaction. "It almost worked!" she protests quickly without waiting for him actually respond first.

This would be the point at which an actual parent - one of those things that Moxie claims to no longer have - would ground her until she's thirty. Seth has no such power. "…okay, first of all? Yeah, your weird week is really not hip enough for me. Second, you are so not getting to play with anything around my house." He can do that, though, assuming Moxie is going to take up the offer of work. That lawn isn't going to mow itself. "You got arrested knocking over a convenience store. That's a special kind of - augh." Clearly Seth believes that Moxie's unique brand of crime isn't hip enough for him either.

"Oh yeah, like I'm sure your house is so cool," Moxie rejoins, rolling her eyes at the certain lameness of his familial home. "I /knocked/ over the convenience store just /fine/. I just got arrested trying to leave," she grits out, as if this is an important distinction. "I totally pulled it off, but then this other guy called the cops over the stuff I'd taken from /him/." I mean, really, it's a tale as old as time. "It's a long story, okay? And if you're just going to make fun of me, then I'm not telling you anything," she adds sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest and slouching down further.

"My house is plenty cool!" It's defensive, sure, but Seth is proud of his house. "I have collections—" But just what these collections are he doesn't say, instead listening to Moxie's story with a frown, trying his best to look like a Concerned And Responsible Adult. "Did it go on your record? How'd you get out? Julie." That last part - the pet name - is actually managed with a properly parental tone. It is Amazing.

Moxie arches an eyebrow to these unnamed collections that are plenty cool, seeming at once both skeptical and curious. Though the expression fades to a quiet frown when he goes all parental on her, and she squirms in her seat slightly, looking every bit like the kid being put on the spot by the properly parental tone, knowing she has to answer and that the answer is probably only going to get her into more trouble. "Well, it's not like I was exactly /using/ my record," she non-answers instead, glancing up at him and then back down at the table. "And that guy, the one who called the cops, he … bailed me out?"

"…" Seth thinks for a moment. "And you're going to pay your legal fees how?" Armed robbery, which is what it sounds like it was, is not generally smiled upon by the police and usually leads to criminal charges unless something interferes. That alone is enough to send the wheels in the warlock's head protectively turning, but that's for another time. "Shit. Okay. So now you're involved with a crazy guy. You. You need something." And that something is obviously a chaperone, gainful employment, or parental influence. "Goddammit. Okay. Whatever. We have a spare bedroom."

"He said he'd help with them," Moxie replies with a shrug. "Anyway, I've got a month to figure it out." Loads of time, right? "And he's not- Well, okay, he's kind of weird," she has to admit, breaking off midway through protesting his craziness. "Anyway, he apologized for getting me arrested. And he's going to give me a thousand bucks for returning his stuff." Because money really is the surest way to earning her forgiveness. She might go on in this vein but then there's that extremely surprising and grudging offer. Which she doesn't seem quite sure what to make of. "Uh… Are you kidding?"

If only. Seth wishes he was kidding. "You don't apologize for getting people arrested and then pay them." He pauses. "But yeah. Seriously. If you don't wreck my house, don't bother my cats, and do errands when you're asked to in place of rent, yeah. And you get brownie points from me if you eat all of Mildred's cereal before she can get to it." It's an odd feeling for the warlock - being generous has never been his forte, and he looks quite uncomfortable with it. But maybe also a little hopeful. Having someone in the house who's on his side of an argument would be a welcome change of pace.

And it's a strange thing for Moxie being on the receiving end of such generosity, and she's not looking that much more comfortable with it either, though the unmitigated shock is overwhelming the discomfort considerably. "Wow. I mean… Yeah, wow." She pauses, trying to think of something more useful than just that. "But you're just doing it to piss off your ex, aren't you," is what she finally comes up with. It doesn't come off like she /really/ believes that though. "But … maybe, yeah? I mean, I'm … pretty good at pissing people off." She doesn't want to look /too/ hopeful, so she sticks with the snark since it's what she does best.

Not all of it is about harassing Mildred, even though that's definitely one of Seth's motivations for issuing the invite. It's a surprisingly minor reason. The Ward house is a big one that has plenty of unused space, and it's not like the man is poor. Neither is his ex-wife. "Really. I wouldn't have guessed." He allows himself the smallest of smiles, scratching his jaw again. It's apparently a nervous tic. "I can clear some stuff out of the downstairs room in a couple of days, if you want."

Moxie can't help a little grin of her own, brought on initially by the ironic statement but slow to fade even as he goes on, even though she seems to be fighting it just a bit. "Yeah… That - That might be good. If you've got the space anyway and all." She looks down at the table for a moment and then awkwardly back up at him. "I've got 'til the end of the month. So you don't need to rush or anything." Not that it's the sort of living arrangement she wants to hold onto as long as possible either.

The smile is infectious, and soon Seth's grin has overtaken his hesitant and uneasy mood. "Right. So - you have my home number, but you don't have a phone." He starts fishing around in his coat pockets. "If you lose this, sell it, or run off with it, I will find you." A moment later a cell phone slides across the table towards Moxie, bumping briefly against the napkin dispenser before it spins to a halt in front of her. "I'll call and let you know when the room is ready."

"/Cool/," Moxie enthuses, snagging the phone and picking it up to give it a closer look. She pushes a few buttons experimentally before looking back at him from over the top of it. "You should have said no long distance calls too," she points out, as though it's somehow too late to do this now. Then again, who's she going to call? Then again again, she'd probably call China just to be a brat. "But, you know, thanks," she adds more sincerely, though she still tries to keep her tone breezy. "Not just for the phone, I mean."

"Don't worry, Julie, there'll be plenty of rules for you to worry about." Like no going into the basement or the attic ever, the Creepy Lairs of Seth and Mildred respectively. That rule? That one's for Moxie's own safety. The warlock takes the gratitude with grace and leans back against the small divider that makes a wall between the table he and the girl are at and the table next to them. "Millie might even be able to find you a job, if you're not going to be going back to school."

"I don't really worry about the rules," Moxie informs him as she tucks the phone away in a pocket. Since he's being nice, it's only fair to give due warning on that front. Though she doesn't expect it to surprise him. "And I'm not. Going back to school," she adds with some finality, the matter closed, even if he wasn't trying to open it. "I'll mow the lawn or whatever, but I'm not going back to school."

"You're going to listen to my rules or you'll end up crawling around as a newt and it'll be your own fault. When it happens you won't get better, and I won't turn you back." The last part of the threat is probably bravado, but the newt thing is entirely possible. The school thing - well, that's an argument for another day. Seth believes Very Strongly in education, which is why Moxie never ever needs to be told that he's a university dropout. He bumps his cane up into his hand and sets its end on the floor as if preparing to get to his feet, but doesn't go all the way up just yet. "And by 'a job' I mean a real job. Mildred owns a store."

"Yeah, I'm so sure," Moxie replies to the threat, though she can't entirely dismiss it. Then again, if she were one to worry about consequences, she wouldn't have held up a convenience store with what looked like a hair dryer, now would she. But maybe it's enough to at least stop her from going out of her way to break the rules? Who knows. It's a crapshoot. "Is it a cool store?" she asks, again like she has a whole host of offers and can afford to be picky. She's making no move to leave yet herself, still slouched back in her chair as she watches him.

The question about the store brings another smile to Seth's face. "It's pretty cool. I met Mildred there - it's a magic shop. I can't make promises as far as employment goes, since that'll depend on her and whether or not she's bleeding and hormonal." He shifts towards the edge of his seat and eyes the floor like it's some sort of hazardous obstacle, obviously not feeling too happy about getting up again. "You should get your GED."

Moxie wrinkles her nose a little at his charming descriptive phrase, but the idea of a magic shop does seem to satisfy her quota for coolness. "I don't really believe promises anyway," she replies, by way of saying thank you perhaps. "I should do a lot of things," she replies indifferently to his advice, rolling her eyes. Hey, this is what happens when you adopt stray teens. Gratitude is short-lived. But maybe not quite so short-lived, since after a beat she does lightly but sincerely offer, "You need help or anything?"

There's a pause as Seth considers the offer, but ridiculous issues of male pride are something he's managed to more or less outgrow since being crippled. "Sure." The warlock holds up his right arm with the elbow pointed outwards, putting it into a perfect position for grabbing as he tightens his grip on the cane with his left. "What's your legal name, by the way?"

Moxie is at least wise enough not to make any big deal of it as Seth accepts, just nodding and slipping easily from her chair to take the offered elbow and offer what help she can, being a wee thing, but determined. "Moxie," she replies, shrugging a shoulder. She's not even sure at this point why it was she never told him, failing to realize it might be just that he didn't ask until now.

The lack of name-knowing probably comes from Seth's insistence on nicknaming everyone he comes across. 'Julie' is a perfectly good handle, and it's likely that Moxie will still hear it for quite some time. With the girl's help the man gets to his feet again and then leans his weight onto the cane. "I'm Seth."

"I know," Moxie replies easily, stepping back once he's on his feet, leaning up against the table instead of sitting again. "I heard the cop call you it outside the bar that time." All these little details she files away in case they might be useful some day. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and then looks over at him as if considering adding something else… but then doesn't.

"Good times." Relatively. Seth smiles, then starts limping his way to the door. "I'll call you within the week. Get whatever stuff you own packed." It's still a little weird for Seth to accept that he's just done a Genuinely Nice Thing.

"Yeah, until you /told/ on me," Moxie replies, not willing to let that go. But it's said with a grin, so she's probably joking. She leans forward slightly, nodding her head and crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "I'll be ready." She watches him a moment, her expression turning thoughtful, but not really in a troubled way for once.

"You deserved getting told on, brat. And don't you lose my phone!" That's the last to be heard of Seth before he disappears out the door of the Starbucks.

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