The Beginning of the End (Zombie RP) discussion

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Natalie stared down at the blank paper before her, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. She had another project to do and she was stumped--for the very first time. She usually always had something to write about. Hell, she could write about the inauguration, but then so would every major reporter ever. Plus, she wasn't in the mood to get political this time around. She didn't want to do anything whimsical, either. Her professor had already stated that they had a deep love for papers with substance, so substance she would get. The blonde haired girl clicked her pen repeatedly, flipping from one blank page in her notebook to the neck like she hoped some great revelation would come to her from the college-rule notebook. Not that it would, though.

Her frustration was evident, though it might have seemed that way when she woke up this morning anyhow. The deep-seated scowl on her face had already been noted as seemingly permanent, even by the friends who knew better. Maybe that was it. She could write about beauty standards. But again--political. But it had substance. But it was political. This battle was waged through murmurs until finally she turned to look at the person closest to her.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

Her legs crossed and arms folded at the edge of the table, anyone passing by would have thought Nina's undivided attention was soley on the book that lay spread open before her. The observation couldn't have been further from the truth as despite her seemingly concentrated appearance, her thoughts were a million miles away. Well, a thousand miles away, give or take, to be precise. Much as the book had captured her interest, it was no match for the feeling of home sickness that she had been slowly drowning in since she moved to Seatle a a few months ago. She wondered how Aunty Mads was doing and whether she'd taken up another hobby? She had mentioned something about ice skating the last time they talked. Their next scheduled phone call wasn't until tomorrow night, but that felt like eons away. Adamantly old school and set in her ways, Aunty Mads's only form of electronic communication was her landline and to prevent Nina from calling her every few hours, she had set a strict schedule for when Nina could call. Any other time and she wouldn't pick up.

Nina had burrowed so deeply into her head, that it was wonder she actually heard the question at all, though for a moment she thought she had imagined it. Turning to the girl that she didn't even realize until now was sitting next to her, her brain went on alert mode as it frantically scrambled to arrange a response.

"Umm."

That wasn't even a word. She mentally kicked herself, embarrassed and felt her checks heating up.

"Umm...you already have."

"Fair point."

There was the resting bitch face again as she shook her head at herself. She should have opened up with the original question she had in mind. If she ended up being a major journalist or reporter like she planned, she'd have to move quickly with questions. She checked that off mentally as a lesson learned and barreled on, undeterred. Before speaking, though, she did a quick scan of the girl's features. God, she looked like one of those old-time actresses. Not the ones with the curls; maybe a miniature Audrey Hepburn crossed with Marilyn Monroe. Wait, not what she was supposed to be thinking about. Blinking, she got her train of thought back and continued.

"If you had to say that something was a political matter, would it be modern beauty standards in America?"

No, no, no. That question felt wrong, like it was asked the wrong way. Another mental note to change it when she asked the next person. This was already proving fruitful. Maybe she would write about beauty standards, even if it turned into something political.

Nina cringed, guilt clawing at her and feeling like an utter jerk. It didn't help that the girl looked a bit angry. Her stomach rolled and she could feel the small tendrils of an oncoming stomach ache. She was about to apologize, but the girl was already on her question.

She pondered it for a bit, her body rearranging itself into what her best friend and aunt called her thinking pose. Essentially, her right arm wrapped around her torso which served as a resting place for her left elbow so she could rest her chin under her fist.

Modern beauty? What was modern beauty anyway? Especially in the United States of all places where as the song goes, was a melting pot of many people.

"How would you define modern beauty standards in America?" Nina responded cautiously. She avoided making eye contact, intimidated by what seemed to be the girls' default expression, a scowl that reminded her of a grumpy cat.

Oh, this was good. She was glad she'd asked a random person. Natalie hadn't so much thought about what beauty standards were like--outside of what looked professional and what didn't--so she was no authority on this. Her hair, after all, was currently being held up in a messy bun with three different pens and a scrunchy. She opened her mouth to speak, not yet sure of her words. She froze, her leaning forward as finally what she wanted was at the tip of her tongue.

"Like, the typical American beauty. Think those beauty pageants where the winners are all fit-looking, blonde, and blue-eyed; that kind of standard. Totally ridiculous and objective, but that's modern America for you." She snorted then before her expression went back to that of concentration. Somewhere along the line, she'd stopped clicking her pen and was jotting down notes in her notebook. This was, thus far, a productive session. It was just a matter of the right questions and compilation of answers. Maybe she'd take to Twitter later on; that was certainly a good place to start.

As the last short-hand note was jotted down, she looked back up to the girl. She'd forgotten to ask her name, but she'd do that later. Maybe ask if she wanted to remain anonymous. She'd still have to cite her, though, in her paper, which would be fairly easy.

As Nina waited for the girls' response, she took the brief time to give her a once over. She wondered what would happen if she plucked one of the pens sticking out of the girls' golden nest of hair, momentarily getting the image of a bird's nest crumbling. And speaking of hair, why was she asking about beauty standards? A class assignment perhaps? It could be an English essay but her question also had a political component, so it could also be something for Political Science?

Upon hearing the girl's voice, she snapped out of her mental bubble and focused her attention on the girl's' response to her question.

Nina could see where the girl was coming from, but the kind of look she described wasn't what Nina would call "typical of modern American beauty". She thought it was really more mainstream as it was one of the many current trend in beauty and would eventually fade in time only to resurface again at a later time.

She considered her opinion, the cogs in her head spinning furiously as she formulated a response that would hopefully not come out sounding rude.

"I can see where you’re coming from but how does “the typical American beauty standard” relate to political matters?

Natalie licked her lips, hhead tilting slightly. This was pretty much the question she had expected to be asked. The answer was already there, waiting to see the world. "Simple: the typical American beauty standard is forced on girls and women through patriarchal venues and have been for decades. A woman is told how she would look best by the opinion of a man, though it may be policed by her female cohorts. This is a political matter because it comes into play with feminism--both mainstream and intersectional. This policing is turned on the individual know that they can be individuals but adhering to their own body type would render them at a disadvantage if it wasn't a 'desirable' body type. Like if a woman was, say, slightly above the medically average weight of a group of women of a similar age, the immediate assumption is that she is a fat and thus undesirable. This can lead to issues including but not limited to eating and mood disorders. This contributes to her health overall, impacting her freedom to the pursuit of happiness. Because she's not happy that she's not fitting a dictated standard imposed by men of society."

Was she making sense thus far? She hoped she was. "It becomes a political matter in that this is a bit of evidence that can be used in defense of the feminist movement, which seeks for the equality of men and women--this being a political movement in itself. Politics in itself is complicated, but some professors and scholars sum it up as a transaction or union between two different parties for the betterment of the whole of a state. By having these trivial beauty standards, a select number of the state is totally fine and perfect while everyone who doesn't adhere to the aforementioned standard are marked as other and deemed as lesser. This in itself causes conflict within the state, not betterment."

She took a moment to breathe, nodding. She thought that had been nicely put. She could use that in her paper. "Did that make any sense at all?"

Nina leaned forward, her thoughts clear of homesickness for the time being in order to give the girl her utmost attention and process everything that was being said. It was a bit of a mouthful but Nina got the gist of it all.

Leaning back into her chair and assuming her thinking pose, she thought back to the girls' original question. If you had to say that something was a political matter, would it be modern beauty standards in America?She agreed with everything the girl had said, so yes, she would say that beauty standards are a political matter. Now though, Nina wondered if the girl had asked her the question to get her opinion on the matter or if she simply needed someone to help flesh out her thoughts.

On a side note, Nina wished she knew the girls name. This was the first time she'd ever seen her before, but that wasn't really a shock or anything since it was a pretty big campus and she wasn't exactly a social butterfly. The nameless girl on the other hand seemed like an active person and speaking of being active, Nina couldn't help but smile as she realized that the girl fit her own description of a typical American beauty with her blonde hair, pale skin, and figure, albeit sans blue eyes.

Wait. Did she answer the girl already?

"Uhh..."

Nina bit her lip and refocused on the girl who by now probably thought, she was some sort of an idiot.

Clearing her throat, "Yes. I think I got most of that. And I agree."

And now Natalie was grinning like a crazy person. This had certainly been helpful. Her entire body buzzed with the giddiness that usually took her when she was on verge of something great. She'd likely end up asking a few more people the same question or something similar to see where that took her. Then she'd definitely have to do some research about how this has evolved into a formal matter.

"Great! You've been very helpful," she stated, clicking her pen a few times. Right; she had to ask for her name. "I'm Natalie. I hope you don't mind if I ask your name for use in my paper. Or I can leave you as anonymous if you don't want to be mentioned by name?" Her smile was gone as she slipped back into seriousness, once more appearing angrier than she truthfully was. But hey, she was technically burning more calories by scowling than by smiling, so it worked out, right?

Nina felt something akin to whiplash as the girl, who she now knows as Natalie, shape shifted from the Cheshire cat into the Grumpy Cat meme. She felt the sudden urge to shuffle back a few feet but thought better of it as that would certainly appear very rude.

"It's Nina. Nina Garrison."

Paper? So not an essay but an article. She wondered what else the girl had written and made a mental note to search for her later when she got the chance.

"You can use my name. Could you send me a copy of it?" she asked. Now, she had something to tell Aunty Mads and Madeline other than her classes and what book she was currently reading.

"Well, Nina, I can certainly give you a copy," Natalie stated, jotting down her name, "I just have to wait until it's graded, which probably won't be long. I can get it to you then. Email?" She looked up expectantly, pen poised and ready. Some people would say her appearance helped her--the scowl was somewhat intimidating and off-putting, but no one had ever really dared to mess with her by giving her bullshit answers. No one wants to poke a sleeping bear, which everyone seemed to think she was despite how untrue that line of thinking would be. But at least it proved useful. She doubted that half of the interviews she had to do thus far would have amounted to anything if she was the smiling, fresh-faced student that they'd expected her to be. Some people had even pointed out that she looked like a veteran reporter. The remembrance of it sent a fresh wave of excitement through her, though it wasn't obvious in that moment.

Natalie was probably the only person she's spoken too since the beginning of school, but enjoyable as it was to have some human contact for a change, Natalie was scary. Not physically though, she was golden in that department. It was more the aura she presented which was that of a lioness. Nina momentarily wondered what she looked like in her sleeping state. Would her face soften and relax into one reminescent of a sleeping kitten?

Now was not the time for tangents however as Nina was drawn back into reality by Natalie's questioning gaze. Right. Her email.

Email? Did she have one...? Yes! Upon further thought however, panic begun to set in as she desperately tried to remember the email address the school had given her. Technology had never been her strong area. Heck, she just got her phone in the past year and the only thing she knew how to do was send texts and call. Her laptop was bought two days before school started and all she could manage to do on that thing was school related stuff. Anything else and she had to call Miranda for help who usually got a kick out of her fumbling around and near hysteria.

"I don't have a personal one. Could you send it to the school email? It's the same format for everyone, right?" Nina nervously said.

Natalie wasn't sure what all was going on in Nina's head, but she was sure it had to be something interesting the way she fell silent so often. She patiently awaited whatever thought the girl was having to pass, perfectly still. No personal email? That was a little unheard of in this day and age, considered how everything was computerized and becoming increasingly automated. Maybe she was just one of those people that weren't as exposed to electronics as a kid.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is." Which meant that she had the tail end of the address, but not the most vital part. They usually threw in random numbers on the end, too, and that would probably have her scrolling through a list of students or just brute forcing it. She'd have to ask one of the communications majors or something; they usually had the lowdown on everyone, anyways.

Nina could feel the conversation dwindling to a close and the inevitable awkward silence that followed made her feel uncomfortably warm. She wanted to say something like...well, she wasn't exactly sure what to say at all or do. Does she just turn back to her space and go back into her bubble or walk away? What's the proper protocol for this? Times like these, she wished Miranda were here. She'd know what to do and say.

Maybe she could ask the Natalie for a cup of coffee sometime? Is that appropriate? Miranda did tell her to get out and actually meet people and Natalie seemed fairly...nice. So what if she looked like a grumpy house cat waiting for it's master to die, Aunty Mads always said never to judge a book by its cover.

"So, would yo-"

The rest of her words died in her mouth as she let out a squeak and suddenly jumped from her chair. Nina's cheeks instantly felt as if someone had pressed an iron to them. Sheepishly, she sat back down in her chair, one hand shielding her face from the room full of eyes that were now trained on her and the other reaching for her phone in her back pocket.

It was a text from Miranda. She'd forgotten to turn down the volume and vibrate again. Cheeks burning with embarrassment she turned back to Natalie and held up her phone nervously.

"Sorry. I'm not used to having something buzzing on my butt."

Dear Lord. That didn't come out right at all.

Natalie's mind was already working, eyes scanning the area for more possible interviewees. She ad to make sure it was diverse, as well, so throwing in a few guys would be beneficial to the paper. She had to take in all sides, as well, so she also needed people that didn't agree with her views. It was certainly shaping out to be quite the paper in her mind. Certainly, something worthy of praise if she played her cards right.

She considered what she might do to thank the girl. After all, Nina had just helped her stumble upon an A+ paper. It was only fitting that she took her out for coffee or bought her lunch. She, though, had to be conscious of the fact that she was still saving up for her own place. Her thoughts were disrupted by the girl's squeak, brows shooting up to her hairline and disappearing under her bangs.

The urge to laugh was strong, but somehow she resisted. Nat shook her head, lips pursed together. She could already feel the eyes on them from the other students, but she was more concerned with how Nina was taking it. Nina's response nearly had er choking on her own spit. She'd been right to think this girl just wasn't around electronics enough.

"Uh, cool." Her brows furrowed. Nina was probably waiting for more assurance than that. "What kind of phone do you have?"

To say that she was grateful to Natalie for not laughing was an understatement because she was mentally bear-hugging her. Her ever present professional appearance, albeit unnerving was a balm to Nina's shocked nerves. Boy, was she making a great first impression though. What divine being's wrath did she incur to have such rotten conversational skills anyway?

At Natalie's inquiry of her phone, she froze once again. Fumbling with the device, she turned it over in her hand looking for some sort of clue. Her cellphone was nothing but a screen and a black backing with an M that she vaguely recalled stood for something. Modern? Mole?Mo-something? Mo? Nina shrugged. Maybe it didn't stand for anything?

Beaming, she held up her phone to show Natalie the M on her phone. "I have an M."

It would have been a real tragedy if te girl ad pulled out a flip phone. Nat's brows rose again, eyes widening just a touch. At first, she had no words to deal with this situation. She didn't fumble so much as no sound left her lips despite the few movements they made. "Oh." That was all she could come up with?

She dug through her bag, producing her own smart phone. Some notifications from twitter and a text from er brother showed up on her screen before she unlocked her phone. She didn't bother reading any of them; she'd check later. Looking up once more at the girl and her seemingly model-less cell phone ( it was probably one from Metro PCS or something. They had some good stuff, she was sure ), she offered up a small smile. "I can give you my number? In case you wanted to catch on te progress of the paper? Or go out for coffee, as thanks?"

"That would be great!" Nina chirped, practically glowing with happiness. "I passed by this place that looked fun! Would you like to go to tonight?"

Nina felt positively excited, the ball of nervousness and embarrassment she had felt earlier melting away under the heat of her giddiness. Miranda would surely be proud of her and hopefully let up on her teasing of Nina's hermetic lifestyle.

"That is of course if you're free..." Nina added. She didn't want to intrude on Natalie's life after all.

Already a place in mind? Natalie would have joked about being used as an excuse to check the place out, but decided it would be better not to. Just the faintest smile graced her lips as she took in Nina's excitement. It wasn't like she had any plans tonight; she'd probably have everything done by six, as usual. Which would leave her with plenty of time to binge a few episodes of Friends on Netflix. "Totally free," she replied, smile widening a touch more. Tapping the screen of her phone a few times, she went to her contacts list and went to the 'add contact' option. "Here, just put your number and name in and I'll text you." With this instruction, she passed her phone over to Nina.

Nina gingerly tapped away, inputting her information as instructed. The bright neon sign of the 5-Point Cafe that she happened to pass while puttering around the city flashed in her head. She hadn't gone inside to have a look so she was entirely unfamiliar with the setting. For all she knew, the place could be a total dump, a thought which unsettled her as she didn't want to leave an unsavory impression with Natalie.

Maybe they can go to Starbucks? She's been in there before, but she always messes up on her order. She either asks for something she doesn't want or something that wasn't even on the menu. How she manages to be so such a dolt, she'd never know. And now that sinking feeling of anxiousness was back, gripping her whole body and sending a chill right down her spine. She felt slightly light headed and the phones screen started to look a tad bit to bright.

Had she eaten at all today? As if on cue, her stomach emitted an embarrassingly loud growl that seemed to echo in the mostly quite room. She really can't win today, can she?

"Sorry." Nina nervously laughed, handing Natalie back her phone, "Bad eating habit or should I say lack thereof...anyway. So, what time should we meet up and where?"