Logs:A Family Picnic (With Hats)

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Content Warning

Discussion of police violence and Proud Boys.

Cast

Rosalyn Solfrig, Aaron Cohen and Ziv

Setting

Fairmount Park

Log

Yesterday the weather was totally awful: all kinds of rain (which Ziv loved, but that's neither here nor there) and flooding and all that. Today's partly-cloudy, but the tropical storm has passed, so people are getting out in the part-sunshine and enjoying the soggy August weather.

It's warm and humid but at least it's not raining, right? There's a nice breeze because the depleted winds of the tropical storm are still sweeping through, so that's actually not terrible.

Anyway, sitting up on a picnic table deep in the wilds of Fairmount Park (not the seat, the table, because they are a heathen) and waiting for the invited individuals is one (1) mermx. Cut-off denim shorts, walking sandals, a tank top that says HIRE A SAMURAI (because they steal all their favorite clothes) and a neon-pink bikini top, with their backpack sitting next to them as they fiddle with their phone while waiting.

There is a dog riding in a dog carrier attached to a street bike. That dog is lamentably goofy looking, all wiry haired and the color of a toasted marshamallow. He is wearing little goggles and a little dog helmet with the Speed Racer stylized M on the front. He is enjoying this, perhaps a little too much.

Attached to the bike carrying the dog around is one (1) Aaron Cohen, dressed in a pair of bike shorts and a muscle shirt with an increasingly shaggy black and curly beard, and a rainbow kippah on his head. He looks rather like your typical musclebound dudebro, save that his muscle shirt advertises that he is a 'World Class Competitive Hugger' in the usual block fonts and aggressive design usually found on gym shirts and shirts promising violence to those who don't like America, or similar.

All three go zoom. Bike, rider, and dog.

Rosalyn arrived in short order, waltzing up juggling an armful of picnic hamper and a round hat box. She had come directly from work- she was still dressed in boots, jodhpurs and a white button up shirt... topped by an outrageously large pink fluffy hat.

They light up when the invited individuals appear: Ros, anyway, gets to see the literal light-up. The reflected city lights in Ziv's mien flash yellow-pink-blue neon, all sorts of scribbly, jagged flashes of light through their cheeks, shoulders, throat. "Ros! Aaron!" They flutter their webbed hands in grabby motions toward both, tucking their phone away and hopping up from the table. "Eko may join us in a bit, she's still busking and had a decent traffic flow the last time we talked, so."

Aaron steers his bike off the path and kicks out his legs, letting out a loud 'Whoo!' as he closes in on the picnic area. He stops his bike a short distance off and dismounts so he can walk it closer and throw up the kickstand. Chewie is then liberated from his doggie carrier and clipped up to a leash. Not that he needs one, really. But laws are laws.

The little doggo rushes over to Ziv to begin the warble-yips of joy that is the song of his people, his tiny wire brush tail shaking his entire ass as it wags furiously. Aaron is comparatively more sedate. "Hey, Ziv." He pauses to consider Rosalyn who, let's face it, cuts quite a figure. "Hi there, miss. Love the hat." It is, as they say, A Look.

"I come bearing gifts," she caroled out with a bright smile. "Why thank you," she said to Aaron. "You can't have a proper picnic without a hat! And as such..." Ros tossed the hat box to Ziv. "I found a store that had all sorts of creative supplies and the shop girl showed me this amazing glue. It comes in a stick that you put in a gun that heats it to a liquid so it can be easily applied, then cools down quickly again! Open it! Open it."

First, the pupper, if only because the pupper arrives first. Chewie darts toward Ziv, and Ziv crouches to scoop up the little dog in all his wiry, silly glory, letting him nibble their jawline. But then there's an incoming box, so Chewie is quickly set down so Ziv can grab the box. "... oh no. You've discovered hot glue." This is said with that sort of bubbling-up-from-the-water laughter that is stereotypical Ziv. "I am... delighted and terrified all at once." They carry the box over to the table, offering as they go: "Aaron Cohen, Rosalyn Solfrig. Ros, Aaron." Partner, meet family. Family meet partner. THIS IS FINE.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Solfrig. May I call you Rosalyn?" Aaron is strangely well-mannered for a guy that looks like an absolute himbo. He collects Chewie up under one arm so that Ziv can have a moment's piece and carries him over to meet Rosalyn as well, "Rosalyn Solfrig, meet Chewda Maccabee. Chewie for short. Chewie, meet Rosalyn Solfrig." Aaron makes one of his little paws wave with a finger. He looks down to the doggo and holds him up closer to Aaron's own ear, then nods once, "I'll ask her, buddy." Then to Rosalyn, "He wants to know if you have any treats and slash or pets."(edited)

"Just Rosalyn is fine," she said agreeably. "And I'm pleased to meet you too. And you, Chewie! What am adorable pup. May I pet him? I'm sure he'll find some treats in the hamper I put together for dinner. As for pets... well, I have two four footed friends though neither are here right now."

"Oh... wow. Holy... shit. Wow. That's .. Ros, this is amazing!" The hat may be bigger than Ziv is, honestly, but that doesn't stop them from carefully, almost reverently, lifting the giant hat out of the hatbox and situating it on their head at the perfect jaunty angle. "Aaron, look. At. My. HAT!"

Aaron's brows arch at the hat so displayed. He mutely extends his pupper out to Rosalyn to hold and pet, a pupper who begins to warble-yip all over again at the prospect of a novel human whose nostrils he's yet to invade with his tiny pink tongue. "He says it's fine," Aaron assures her while still staring at the hat.

"If the little ones are fascinators, what does that make an awesome hat of this size? That's amazing."

"Aw, you're such a good boy, yes you are!" She cooed delightedly, accepting the wriggly armful with enthusiasm do she could properly lavish the creature with attention. She was blushing at the effusive praise though, little rosebuds sprouting along the vines growing in her hair. "I'm glad you like it! The ship reminded me of you for some reason, and it called out for a hat to go with."

"Amaz... ing... ators," Ziv answers, laughing brilliantly, reaching up to carefully make sure that the giant hat doesn't fall off of their head. Not that their noodle arms are much protection, really. "This is incredible, honestly." They carefully wobble to sit down on the seat of the picnic table they'd been sitting on before. "Now I need an outfit to wear it with, and an event to wear it to. Not that I won't be wearing this all the time, mind you."

"She got a neon green sequined cowboy hat for Eko," Ziv explains to Aaron. "It has LED lights on it."

"That... sounds like some kind of hat," Aaron agrees with a helpless chuckle. Given his present attire, it is unlikely he has ever worn such a hat in his life. It's all a little beyond him, for all that he seems to find the whole enterprise amusing. "It really is a work of art, Rosalyn. This hat of Ziv's. You've made them happy, so I'm very grateful to you. Thank you." Aaron finally settles himself down at the picnic table in the awkward, unfortunate manner of someone about six inches too tall for the ergonomics of public architecture.

"It was a small amusement for me, that is all," she demured, settling down gracefully on a bench with the dog. She always moved gracefully, it had been grown into her along with the roses and effortlessly flawless golden hair. "So how did you meet?" she asked curiously.

"It is incredible. I'll message her to bring it if she gets to join us." And so Ziv carefully reaches into their pocket -- still balancing the hat with great effort on their skinny neck -- and pulls out their phone, tapping at it rapidly with webbed fingers. Then they carefully remove the hat, if only so they can scoot over and finally greet Aaron properly, by flinging their arms around his neck and delivering one (1) smooch. Nope, sorry, two smooches! It's extra smooch day, apparently. The Siren starts digging through the picnic basket and setting things out, because she brought dinner, and it is to be eaten, after all. "Aaron's the rabbi at the shul that I attend and will probably become a member of, once I exist on paper enough to belong anywhere that requires existing on paper. I started flirting with him over brisket after services, because I'm Like That and he's cute."

"To be fair it was my bubbe's recipe, so they can't really be blamed for making such an egregious error in selecting me. The brisket is that good that it overshadows my myriad and manifest shortcomings," Aaron explains on the heels of two (2) smooches and Ziv's explanation. "Our second date involved my getting stabbed by Proud Boys. We like to keep it fresh and interesting, you know? A little davening, a little activism, a little armed assault." He sounds, perhaps, just the slightest bit weary of it all.

Rosalyn frowned with concern. "Stabbed? Gracious! Here," she leaned over the hamper and produced a Tupperware container full of clotted and strawberries. "Have something to eat, you'll feel better."

Ziv squints in Aaron's direction, and then leans over to kiss his hairline, right next to the line of his rainbow kippah. "Stop that," they chide gently, continuing to set out containers and fetch plates and the like. "Well, okay, really stop the getting stabbed by Proud Boys." There's a little wryness in the second bit of it. A look aside at Rosalyn, and they laugh again, softly. "Yeah, you two will get on fine."

"I got better," Aaron assures Rosalyn, but not until stealing a strawberry and some clotted cream. "I see you ascribe to the 'eat something, it will make your gunshot wound better' school of crisis intervention. I approve." He grins genuinely, proving Ziv's prediction true at least for his part. "Yeah. Anyway. I used to be a fine upstanding suit and tie wearing member of Philadelphia's political class. Now I'm a hairy vagabond in search of truth and understanding. It's been a weird year."

"There's not much else I can do for this particular crisis," Ros pointed out mildly. "And I have food at hand. I am a fair archer, when a crisis merits such a response. And an excellent rider, if I do say so myself." She patted him on the arm comfortingly, and pressed a cucumber sandwich on Ziv. "I do concur on the strangeness of this year though. I'm sorry yours has been such a mess."

Things Ziv will eat that their player will not: cucumber sandwiches. The mermx settles down contentedly, taking the sandwich, and takes an indelicate and delighted bite out of said sandwich. It goes cronch. "Well, fortunately," they offer after swallowing, "that particular crisis seems to have resolved itself. Or at least... it hasn't recurred since the second incident." Everyone talks normally about Proud Boy attacks in the park, don't they? "Eko got attacked by them when she went to get stuff from his apartment, and she Sealed them into leaving us be, basically. She'll know if they start their fuckery again." Crunch. "The hairy vagabond life seems to suit you, my love."

It's Philly. Everyone shit talks the Proud Boys. Save the Proud Boys and the Cops, but nobody listens to those jackals. "Yeah. It's been quiet. I'm working on a block party for my neighborhood. They were trying to stir up trouble between the black community in southie and the Jewish community in southie, only they forgot those overlap more than a little, and that the hebes and the muslims are tight down there, too. So. We're going to get aggressively intersectional while having halal and kosher food trucks. Only my discretionary budget at Kol Tzedek isn't what it was over at Rodeph Sholom. So. I need to do some fundraising first."

Rosalyn smiled faintly. "I confess, I'm not familiar with several of the terms that you just used but coming together as a community sounds like a nice idea. I've noticed that hardly anyone knows their neighbors now and it's a little disconcerting." She gave Ziv a very satisfied smile. "Rieko does certainly get the job done. It's quite impressive." Then she glanced over at Aaron significantly. "How much, ah..." 'does he know' went unspoken.

They take another bite of their sandwich and ask, "What terms don't you know?" asks Ziv, adding, "a lot of those are things that -- like -- we talk about a lot, so... " So learning what they're talking about isn't a bad thing, right? When Rosalyn gives a Significant Glance, Ziv shrugs, answering, "He's seen my house and my actual face." Given that their 'house' is their Hollow, that's an actual lot. "Wizard. Fairy. You know. The usual." Small gestures to themself and Aaron in turn, like this is all very normal.

"I'm a Hufflepuff that thinks he's a Gryffindor," Aaron explains to Rosalyn, although that may not actually function as an explanation. "Wizard. Yeah." He doesn't elaborate beyond that, given they're out in a public park and exposition on wizardry is when the Guardians spell out 'No' with red targeting dots on your chest. "But don't worry. I'm one of the good ones. More Hagrid, less Voldemort."

Rosalyn stared at him blankly for a long moment, then sighed. She clearly hadn't read Harry Potter anymore than she was familiar with Jewish terminology. "I like griffins?" she offered apologetically. "I'm sorry, perhaps I need a modern dictionary. Or perhaps a wizard one."

"This is why we need a house," laments Ziv, adding, "Among other reasons. It's not good for my head to always sleep where I've been sleeping." They finish their sandwich and reach a hand over to snag a strawberry and clotted cream from where they're sitting in front of Aaron. "And also -- well, I'd say we need to catch you up on Harry Potter, Ros, but... " a little sigh. "It really sucks when cultural touchstones are created by transphobes."

"Pop culture isn't really your forte, huh? That's okay. The author is a TERF anyway." Aaron puffs out his cheeks trying to think of a better and still conversationally safe topic to explain matters. "More like Merlin, less like Morgan le Fey? I'm a fighty-punchy good guy ordained by God to punch evil and hug good. He and I are still sorting out the particulars of how to achieve that. But I've got the hugging part down, I think. Pretty good."

"I'm working to catch up," she grumbled. "But I missed a century. A lot has happened in that time! Merlin I know, at the very least! My French tutor had me translate passages of Mallory on occasion. Not that I remember much French, but the story stuck."

"It was a lot for me to catch up on, too. But given my job in our society, learning the cultural touchstones was a little more important than it might be for an incredible mounted archer lady." Ziv winks aside at Rosalyn, stealing another strawberry. Yep, this is perfect. They absently scuff their sandaled foot underneath the table, leaning their chin on their hand. "But we can work on that." Their smile is subtle, soft, at that last bit. "You do have the hugging part down."

"Well, I can probably be of some help in that regard. I've been around for forty some odd contiguous years right here in Philadelphia. If youse got a piece of trivia you'd like to know about, I'm probably your guy to ask. I'm happy to help, too. I actually do some outreach for some of your folk. In that I'm their rabbi, and such. Word sort of got out that I'm an 'in the know' rabbi, and so now I've got a little side congregation of super Jews I also help out. It's pretty cool. Feel free to ask around at Maddy's for my bona fides, if you don't want to take my and Ziv's word for it." Aaron doesn't seem the least bit concerned that Rosalyn might actually take him up on that suggestion. "Right Chewie?" He addresses his dog that Rosalyn is still doting on. "Am I a decent guy?" Chewie ignores him, straining to get at the cream.

She grinned and crouched down to the dog. "We can get an answer to that here and now, actually." She took her keys from her purse and blew a few notes softly over a little silver whistle keychain. "Chewie, tell me, is he a good guy? Can I trust him, Chewie? Tell me the truth." Pipes of the Beastcaller was perhaps a bit overkill but it worked to convey her meaning to Chewie... and a lot of other dogs in the area even if she didn't actively command them now.

Delight flickers through Ziv's eyes -- to Ros it looks like actual little reflected stars in their all-black eyes, and it's far more mundane to observe -- at the interplay between the two of them. "Mmm. Mearc, among others," they agree in between stolen strawberries. Not surprisingly, the Spring likes sweet things. And then Ros reaches for the silver whistle and they cover their mouth, giggling as the power undoubtedly pings Aaron's peripheral Mage sight. "Oh my."

Chewie snaps to attention obediently when the whistle goes off. For he is a whip smart little doggo. Possibly too smart for his own good. So smart he wraps right around to stupid again. One ear goes up, one droops, and his head tilts to the side, one of his snaggle teeth poking up from his lower jaw, his beady little eyes and twitchy mannerisms making him look like some sort of coked up muppet.

When questioned, he gives a single sharp bork. Which is to say the dog believes devoutly that the sun shines out of Aaron's butt if only because he has thumbs and knows how to work the dog food dispenser. He'd probably like her more if she shared the clotted cream, though. Which he looks at, then back to Rosalyn, then back to the cream. Back to Ros. Cream. Then comes the high pitched whining warble.

Aaron just shakes his head in amusement the whole time. "Neat trick. I was pleased as punch when I realized I could talk to my dog like that. He's a better roomie now that he can literally just tell me what the heck is wrong in his little doggie world."

Rosalyn laughed. "And the fact you listen to him tells me all I need to know. Well, that and Ziv loves you too." She smiled up at her mer-friend. "I'll have to introduce you to my furry and feathered friend sometime too."

"Maybe at my house," agrees Ziv casually. "Unless they're -- ?" There's a puzzled look that briefly flickers across their face as if to say 'actually I have no idea if they can come out of the Hedge.' And then they prop their elbows on the table, watching the interplay between the other two.

They do flush a little pink (whether that's seen as neon or just a blush) at the mention that they do, in fact, love Aaron.

"Doesn't every dog owner secretly wish they could speak with their dogs the way we do with humans? It's a great thing! We're best buddies now. When clotted cream isn't around, anyway. He's highly foot motivated." Aaron smiles fondly at the pupper, then back to Rosalyn with an easier grin. "Fur and feathers? Oh, aren't we fancy. Sadly, my life doesn't have much room in it for other pets. Chewie barely sees me enough for my tastes. He's been couch surfing with Lux, Jack, and Mearcstapa most recently."

"I don't really consider then pets," she admitted. "They're... Partners, family, and quite literally smarter than some humans I've met. They can come here, both of them, though neither are terrible subtle most of the time. Agate can be a jacket but she prefers not to unless necessary and her mask is... well, pretty attention grabbing. Elio looks like a motorcycle and standing around a parking lot alone isn't terribly fun for him... bored Elio quickly turns into a hangry or horny Elio."

"The thought of a horny Elio is ... kind of disturbing, to be honest," laughs Ziv, leaning their chin on their hand and watching pup, Obrimos, and Fairest with affection of varying types and amounts. "I don't think I've ever met Agate. I was about to say 'I don't think I've ever seen Agate's Mask,' but ... " They haven't met Agate at all.

"Chewie was my best friend for a while. For a good many years I've been sort of a ... celibate shut in, honestly. I was an associate rabbi at a big shul up in North Philly, helping out as an itinerant Rabbi for Kol Tzedek in west Philly. Volunteering for the Attic Youth Center as a chaplain. Working for the Mayor's office in their department of interfaith affairs. Then there was my activism, too. Philadelphia Tenant's Union, Food Not Bombs, Never Again is Now. Oh, and I was also on the local board of the ADL. I filled my life up with ... trying to fill a hole left by the death of my brother. I was chasing something I didn't know how to articulate. It finally found me, and all of the other things just started falling away again. He's never been really a pet to me, either. He's my best friend, honestly." Aaron gives that weird looking wiry haired snaggle toothed beady eyed muppet an affectionate look.

Which Chewie responds to by burping audibly.

"I'll drag her along next time we get together. She's been hanging out with Bailey's Buck. He's the first of her species she's seen since I rescued her so she's gotten a bit attached." Rosalyn gave Aaron a sympathy filled look, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry you lost your brother, that must have been difficult. Nothing can ever really replace that kind of loss... how are city and Mayoral politics these days? Still corrupt as sin?"

Laughter bubbles up out of Ziv when Chewie burps, and they reach across the table to chuck the little pup's chin with affection. "I've heard a lot of good things about Bailey, but I've never met them," they offer. "Well, about Bailey and Buck. Eko seems to like them plenty well." A flash of a smile, and they lean over to kiss Aaron's shoulder (sweat and all) when he talks about the journey he's been on.

"Well. Let's see. I went to a protest on the mall and the cops started beating on the crowd who were behaving peacefully. One of the cops split open the head of an Imam who was my mentor within the pacifist community I was formerly a part of. He came to visit me the day my brother was murdered, actually. And so I punched out that officer and got beaten bloody and sent to the hospital. The administration put me on leave 'pending an investigation', and when I pointed out that there's live video of this officer clubbing my friend's skull with a baton when he had his hands up in prayer and it was within the Mayor's power to do something about all of this? He said he'd have to wait and see. That man doesn't take a shit without consulting his polling. So I quit. It's a corrupt cesspit of opportunistic democrats. I hated it, I just didn't realize how much until it was me in the crosshairs of its hypocrisy."

Aaron has strong opinions on this topic, clearly. His jaw tenses at the end of it all and he lets out an annoyed sigh before looking off across the park. "Should have decked him, too."

"Nothing ever changes, does it. My father was involved in city politics, once upon a time." To say the least. "It was an open secret that you could buy any politician in town if you wanted something done- or an election if you wanted to do it yourself "

They've heard parts of this story before, but not all of it at once, and hearing it all laid out like that? Makes Ziv shift subtly and frown a little bit. "That probably would feel very good on a temporary basis," Ziv offers quietly, reaching a hand out to rest on Aaron's wrist when he looks away across the park. "But it would have felt very good." Their gaze flickers over to Rosalyn, and they smile lopsidedly. "My father complained similarly."

"It changes. Just not always for the better. Force and counterforce, and all that. I honestly think this town needs to burn down some precincts, torch some cop cars, and dangle the council out of the top windows at city hall before we'll see change. The Working Families Party is making inroads, and I'm hoping we can expand on them next election season." Aaron draws in a deep breath and lets out a gusty sigh, "But I'm sure you don't want to listen to me rant about all that all day, although I could certainly do so. I quit. It's behind me. I'm changing the city in different ways now. With a little help from HaShem and a small Japanese man who beats me up once a week."

Rosalyn arched an eyebrow. "Now that sounds like one of those movies," she teased. "I saw the Karate Kid. Wax on, wax off. Politics was never my favorite game though. It was boring- at least until I was old enough to really enter society and could flirt to my family's advantage." Ros rolled her eyes. "But that was life."

When Rosalyn invokes the Karate Kid, Ziv slaps their webbed hand over their mouth, and sporfles out a little laugh. It takes everything they have to not burst out into gales of laughter, and their shoulders rise and drop rapidly with contained laughter.

Aaron slowly glances aside at Ziv with a small, albeit in jest, frown. He then looks back to Rosalyn and explains, "A lot like that, actually. Master Yoshi is a great man. A wise man. He's probably forgotten more about violence than I will ever learn and he sits around playing Go, making tea, tending his garden, fishing, and painting. He says it is better to be a warrior who paints than a painter in a war. And I've taken that to heart. He sort of sorted me out when I first... became a wizard. But, yeah. Jokes aside, Master Yoshi is an amazing man." He then adds, "He also did the wax on, wax off joke with me. Then punched me in the solar plexus."

Rosalyn cracked up as well. "He sounds like he is very good for you then. I would be happy to remain at peace too. I'm no Summer warrior, eager for battle, but I know how to handle myself in situations that I need to survive. These are important skills and we live in dangerous times."

When they get frowned at -- albeit in jest -- Ziv leans over and puts their head on Aaron's shoulder, giving him the biggest, most charming eyes. This is probably not so different from a tactic that Chewie has used, from time to time. The big pleading eyes of the Siren stay fixed on him, before they turn their expression into a cheesy grin. "I've met Master Yoshi," they inform Rosalyn. "I wore my suit. He's really nice. He's helping Eko with some stuff." And then they kiss his shoulder again and sit up. "Me, I just try to dodge really well." And they do.

"You dodge people into other people, Ziv. That's straight up Aikido stuff, that is. I thought for sure you had training after that." Aaron gives Rosalyn a double-take when he realizes she does not, in fact, have he and Ziv's shared experiences. "This was when the Proud Boys attacked us the first time. Up on Baltimore Avenue." Aaron ticks his head westwards. "I have a hard time trusting anyone who's eager for battle. Grim resignation is about all the enthusiasm for it that I can muster. And even then I try to leave them breathing when it's possible." It does cause him to consider Rosalyn anew, however. "How do you protect yourself here in the city? I can't imagine you carry a bow with you everywhere."

"Well... I haven't needed to protect myself on this side," she admitted. "But I have a few options. I can call Elio- and I usually leave my bow under his care when I don't need it. So if I call him I'll be armed. I'm also very good at running and hiding, and animals will help me if I call. I don't have the paperwork for anything like a little pistol I could tuck in my purse."

"No training, just... " and they trail off, wiggling their fingers and mouthing the word 'maaaaagic' in an extended, almost cartoonish fashion. "Though I'm not object to learning how better to dodge people into other people from a training perspective. Most of my training has been turned toward talking my way out of a fight in the first place, and putting people back together after fights." They slide into silence, listening to Rosalyn's explanations.

"I can teach you some basic hand to hand stuff if you wanted. No pressure. But I know your lives are as dangerous as mine. Maybe more dangerous, honestly. And that you all have enemies out here, too. The ones that nearly killed Lux? And I also know you guys often have trust issues and triggers you maybe wouldn't want to share with a gym coach, or what have you. I figure giving you a safe place to practice that stuff might keep you around. And since you're Ziv's family, and all, that sort of makes us family, too. Like a sister-in-law. And the Torah is very clear that I have to teach you to kick ass if your husband isn't around to. I don't see a ring, so." Eat your heart out, Rambam. Aaron seems especially proud of himself for no immediately apparent but highly Jewish and amusing reason that he's probably not going to share anyway.

Rosalyn grimaced. "Yeah... I'm pretty sure I'm not going to have a husband anytime soon. So I supposed I'd better learn how to do this hand to hand thing. I'm more used to spending time in the Hedge where I have more options at my disposal. That said, I'm quite good at running away when the foliage isn't trying to eat me."

"It would be a good idea," Ziv allows, frowning mildly. "For me, anyway, to learn how to dodge people into other people more efficiently, so I can be standing at the end of a fight and put people back together, either mentally or physically." They absently scratch their cheek. "I was thinking I might learn to more directly interface with people's mental issues -- our people's, specifically." A rueful glance aside at Aaron. Sorry, boo, your mental issues are your own.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find someone at Hogwarts to shrink my head, hon. Don't worry your pretty little head any." Aaron chides Ziv with affectionate playfullness. Then he's smiling easily back to Rosalyn, "I don't doubt you at all. I'm simply suggesting I'm here for you if that is something you'd like to try out. Once Ziv explained to me some of the obstacles you all face when you get back-- and ones you can't just explain to the rest of society --I sat around thinking about ways I could help all when you get back. Like teaching pop culture, or self-defense, or helping with religious observances. That sort of thing. I don't mean to be pushy, I just like to help where I can be helpful." Aaron says all of this with calm and clear sincerity. If he had a tail it would be wagging slowly in anticipation of a headpat.

"Oh I'm in," she said quickly. "I will happily take whatever help and advantage that I'm offered. I've fumbled through learning alone enough to know that I dislike it quite enough and I'm very grateful for such a kind and generous offer. Is there anything I might be able to do in return?" she asked hopefully.

"Tell me not to worry my pretty little head again and I'll stop holding back on making the raunchy jokes that just passed through said pretty little head and embarrass you in front of your putative sister-in-law," Ziv fires back with an excess of sweetness, fluttering their eyelashes at Aaron and then reaching to snag just one more strawberry.