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Hey. He has a new box full of stuff to inventory thanks to a certain ghoul. And a slightly improved focus on drawing thanks to a certain goth. And someone to pat thanks to a certain dog. Atalo's settled in a chair, rubbing Cerberus' ears and talking to him in Greek, the laptop he's been using for said inventory currently sat and patiently waiting on the counter.
Lamara sure has been coming by a lot, yet here she is again. With, believe it or not, a second box of stuff. She has a club with hundreds of members who frequently come to her house and then leave things and never pick them up. It means she collects a lot of junk. Either that or she's clearing out other thrift stores just to have excuses to visit Atalo. "Atalo!" she calls out. "I found another box of things to bring by!"
Mearc walks into the shop. He looks a hair bit run-down and tired today, but his mood seems positive enough anyway. His hair's pinned back out of his face with some bobby pins, his usual pink paracord bracelet and messenger bag are present. As he catches sight of Lamara, a smile blooms on his face. "Evening, both of you. All three of you, if I count Cerberus as well, huh?"
Rosalyn rolled up on her pretty murder pony, and caught up with the other Autumn just as he went inside. "Mearcstapa! Delightful to see you. Good evening Atalo, how are you doing?"
He looks up from Cerberus, patting him before standing and moving forward, dog moving in perfect step with his master. A small smile touches his face as he sees Lamara. "You seem to be finding a lot of old objects. They're very much appreciated. Thank you once again. Did Henevi like the picture?" He turns to the other two, smiling enough with all three arrivals that it reaches his eyes rather than being the mask he sometimes wears. "Me and Cerberus are both very well, thank you Mearcstapa and Rosalyn, please, come in. Do you both know Lamara?"
It's lucky timing, but a dark blonde-haired young woman, arms soaked in two sleeve's worth of tattoo designs, slips in just behind the last of them, narrowly avoiding having to hold, touch, or get hit by the door. It bangs shut behind her and she holds up a finger to point accusingly, meaninglessly, but convincingly at Rosalyn, since technically, she'd been the last one to touch the door. She bares her teeth in a wide, guile-loaded smile, and starts slinking around the aisles and shelves, exploring the wares.
"Mearcstapa!" Lamara brightens more than her already happy expression was portraying. She finds a place to put down the box, then turns to approach him and offer a familiar hug. "I'm so glad to see you again." When that exchange is done, hug accepted or no, she tells Atalo, "She did! She told me to pass on her thanks." Rosalyn gets a friend smile, but just a nod, not a hug. "Hello"
He accepts the offered hug from Lamara, grinning. "You look well. How's Henevi? How are your meetings?"
And then Ros gets his attention. "Remind me why I agreed to paperworking? People keep asking me to paperwork. How're things on your end?"
Ros arched an eyebrow at River's petty finger pointing and murmured,"Pardon me," to their latest arrival, then smiled brilliantly to Atalo and Lamara. Much to her chagrin and only Mearcstapa's sight, several roses growing through her hair and skin took that as an opportunity to bloom. "I haven't yet had the pleasure of an introduction though I'm sure we'll be fast friends if she is a friend of yours. And I believe you agreed to paperwork when you decided to go into trade. They do go hand in hand."
"Good evening." Atalo calls out to River, greeting the new arrival. "Please let me know if you find anything you like." He offers a curious look at her gesture towards Rosalyn and pats Cerberus' head with a murmur in Greek, the dog padding over to the shop door to sprawl lazily down near it. Starting to unload and check the box Lamara's bought in, he nods to Mearc and Ros. "This is Lamara." He repeats, going for full introductions now. "Lamara, this is Rosalyn. You are both friends of mine, yes. So are you Mearcstapa." A nod. "And I agree on paperwork. It's a curse we both accepted for our chosen vocations."
The inked blonde had moved on from her petty finger pointing and so she doesn't notice Rosalyn's humorless eyebrow arching, but when Atalo calls out it gets her attention, and she leverages the opportunity to lean over from around one of the aisle endcaps with a supremely ridiculous floral pattern shirt, full Tommy Bahama tourist. She holds it up, drapes it over herself. "Too much, right?" she wonders at him, at all of them. "It's too much. I just want to inspire some warm weather." The last part, bit of a complaint, is mostly to herself.
"Paperwork! Bane of my existence, and constant looming threat," laments Lamara. "Why would you agree to do it for other people? Henevi is doing well, though, as are my meetings. I have some new members I'm excited about, even. A pleasure, Rosalyn." Lamara turns a questioning raised eyebrow at Atalo, then glances Rosalyn's way as if directing some unspoken question about her at him, then quickly moves on to look at River and the shirt. "Too much," agrees one heavily tattooed woman to the other.
"I don't know, I sort of like that shirt. But I'm into bright things. And bright people." He grins, glancing at Atalo. "Lux would rock that shirt, I should maybe bring it home for them, if this young lady doesn't end up buying it."
He pauses to smirk at Lamara. "Why would I? I had a reason at some point, but my pen-calluses hurt too much to remember it now. And research, I've been doing a good deal of that, too."
Ros ran a hand through her hair, pinching off the more egregious blossoms and grinned. "If it makes you happy, go for it. Life is too short to concern yourself with others' judgements." She smirked at Mearcstapa. "I'll just be happy in service with pretensions of grandeur, no paperwork beyond the occasional note on my charges records."
"It would be too much for me." He answers River. "But that's unimportant, as Rosalyn and Mearcstapa suggest. The important question to ask is whether it's too much for you." He slants a look to Lamara. It takes a second, then he nods once, slightly. "And I've a few other shirts like it Meacrstapa, if she does want to buy it." Another look to River. "Sorry, what's your name? Mine is Atalo."
At Lamara's confirmation, she looks down at the shirt, mournfully, like it's an old dog and now she's got to read it its last rites, but she flickers her attention over to Mearc at the dissenting opinion. "Who's Lux? I want to be friends with Lux. And there's more!" she announces gleefully to Mearc, holding up an arm's worth of hangars, all sporting ridiculous floral print shirts, though perhaps none so bright, so... so orange, as this one.
"Well, that's one for, one against, three undecided. Well. There's only one thing to do," she muses. "Got to leave it to chance." She digs around in her pocket and produces a small token - it looks like an old, worn SEPTA coin but they haven't made those in decades. "Penny in the air," she hums like it delights her just to say it and she flips the token idly, and it jumps up a couple feet in the air and then lands pack in her open palm.
"True enough," Lamara agrees with what Rosalyn says about the shirt. "It's not my style, but that doesn't mean that someone else can't rock it if it's theirs." Then she laughs at the profusion of similar shirts that River produces before she makes her way over to Atalo's side. "Was that box of things I brought yesterday at least things you think you can sell?" she asks him.
"Oooh. Heads. You can bring Lux the second-best shirt," the blonde informs Mearcstapa conclusively. "And Atalo. It's very nice to meet you. You can call me River."
S
"Lux is my partner. They run the Love Letters Art Collective and do street art; spray paint, sidewalk chalk. They're very into bright colors, neons especially. You'd probably get on well enough, from what I can tell so far. High energy."
Which is the opposite of Mearc right now. He's moving a little slower than usual, a little of the sharpest edges worn down. Maybe he's coming down with a cold or something? He looks just a wee bit paler than usual...
Ros wasn't one to pry into Mearcstapa's appearance but she gave him a long look and then moved to start looking through the shoe section in hopes of finding something cute that would fit.
"I have met Lux. Once I believe." Atalo notes quietly. It wasn't the best meeting ever. "Good to meet you River. And if you enjoy art, you should also ask Mearcstapa to introduce you to Nevermore." If he noticed Mearc wasn't at his best he didn't show it, simply looking to Lamara as she moved next to him and patting her shoulder lightly. "I will do my best." He tells her. "I'm not sure I'd be able to sell everything." Beat. "Ah. But it was all very good and interesting." He adds in slightly apologetic manner.
"Well, whatever you can't sell, we can donate or put in the trash, if it's not even worth donating," Lamara agrees easily, and then she laughs. "You don't have to worry about insulting me. None of it was mine, there's no personal attachment at all." She stops to consider Mearc before asking, "you're looking like someone's been running you ragged. Have you been getting enough downtime?"
"Oh, your partner?" River buzzes back at Mearc, a pleased smile having crept across her features, something about it has a hint of the feline. "Nice. I'll have to go check it out," she murmurs to Atalo's suggestion, then giving Mearc a perfunctory look up and down at the obvious signs of... something. And the comments. Apparently this was not Mearc's usual look, that much is certainly clear, so she puzzles over them with another long stare in between blinks before she's off dandying down another row of assorted secondhand wares.
"Twice." The correction is gentle, with a smile directed at Atalo that doesn't completely reach his eyes. "The second time almost seemed like the perfect apology for the first."
Then he turns to Lamara, spreading his arms slightly with a wry look. "I'm trying. I think the most exciting thing I have planned for the weekend is a library delve, and figuring out how to hang a carpet on one of my walls."
"Oooooooh!" Rosalyn exclaimed happily when she found a pair of maroon sneakers in her tiny shoe size. She came back up to the front and put them in the counter. "Get something like a curtain rod," she advised Mearcstapa, and hang it from that.
"Twice." Atalo nods. "Yes, of course." A slight nod, eyes going briefly to Rosalyn before he smiles and puts through the sneakers she'd picked out. "And, that I see Lamara, but if you want a hand getting more together next time, I am happy to do that." He pauses as a few people note Mearc looking tired and he studies him, then frowns slowly, head canting. "Mearcstapa, can I have a private word for just a moment?"
Something dawns on Lamara and she asks, "wait, isn't Love Letters Art Collective the new project that Shiri Touati has been involved in? I've been meaning to talk to them about that, as it happens. I didn't know your partner was the one running it! That's wonderful. Maybe you'd introduce me some time?" She looks at Atalo. "You know Shiri too, don't you?"
The woman who introduced herself as River moves a reflexive step closer to Mearc. "First, which library? Second, why would you do that, it traps so much dust?" The latter piece of advice seems to be offered in earnest, not derision, and she does not seem to mind - or care - that Atalo has asked for a moment of Mear's time privately.
Mearc tilts his head at Atalo. "In a moment, sure. Am I in trouble?" There's a bit of a crooked grin there.
Lamara's question gets a nod. "Of course, I'd be delighted to."
And finally, finally River. "A private library owned by a collector, and the carpet is...something of a keepsake. It's been steam cleaned, since its last use as a carpet, at least. It makes some sense in context. I think."
Ros shot a little grin at Atalo for all the interruptions he was getting. "If it's important, perhaps you should take it to a conservationist for proper mounting?"
"I do." He answers Lamara with a nod. "With a great deal of respect for them. And Lux is a very talented artist too." He offers Rosalyn a small smile back, chuckling quietly. "And, you're not in trouble with me Mearcstapa, no."
"I was wondering the same about dust and dirt," Lamara tells River. "It wouldn't be the weirdest thing I'd ever seen hanging on someone's wall by any stretch, though."
River holds up another ridiculous floral shirt, this one over Mearcstapa. It's bright, banana yellow with tiny palm trees and hibiscus flowers, waves, and... of course, dancing bananas. Of course. "It's no Coral Sunset," she is clearly referencing the shirt she claimed for herself, hanging over her arm. "But I think Banana Dream's got a shot. It looks good on you." She blinks at them, and leans forward, studies them closer. "The yellow and the blood loss, though, kinda washes you out. What color is the carpet? That might change the palette."
"Note how that still means I could be in trouble with someone..." He trails off as River mentioned the blood loss, blushing brightly. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Aren't there lots of ways to keep dust and dirt out now?" He asks Lamara. "Certainly, I imagine better then simply beating a rug." His eyes go back to Mearc. "I am somewhat worried you might be." A pause as River speaks and he studies the pale Changeling quietly, giving a look towards Lamara and musing softly to her.
"What?" River chirps back, innocently. "It's not like someone took it while you weren't loo- oh," she stops herself. "Is this news to you?"
"You could frame it," Lamara suggests to Atalo with a shrug. "I'm no conservator, though. This isn't my area of expertise." The blood less thing? That she stays well clear of as a topic. If people are going to put it right out in the open, it can be people other than the ghoul who might get in trouble.
"No, it's not news to me." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "We're in relative public and I don't know you, so hearing this all stated so bluntly is a little...um. It doesn't respect my privacy? It's rude."
He nods at Lamara slightly, looking between her and to River and Mearc. "Please respect other's privacy." He notes quietly to River. "I've learned to do so myself, it's important."
River cants her head to the side, and her preternaturally well-arranged features bloom into a doggish grin, and she holds up the floral shirt now known as Banana Dream. "Is that a 'no' on this bad boy then?"
"I think I should probably get going," Lamara says, and she steps over to Atalo's side to give him a hug. "Before I go, I wanted to ask you if you'd be interested in meeting up for a walk or something soon? I have something I'd like to talk about. Nothing bad, I promise."
"You're welcome to the shirt." Atalo smiles politely. "Money earned goes to charity, which is good." He turns to Lamara, hugging her back gently and considering her, but expressions and manners are still hard to grasp. "Of course. I'm happy to talk, whenever you wish."
Mearc glances between Lamara and Atalo, his eyes widening slightly, and then his attention turns back to River. "It's a no on that one for me. It would clash."
Probably worse with his mien than his mask, but River doesn't need to know that.
Rosalyn stifled a laugh. "Oh I don't know, I think you could pull it off on special occasions." She offered Lamara a warm smile and her hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can have the opportunity again soon."
"Good, I'll call you," Lamara tells Atalo. "I hope our paths cross again too, Rosalyn. Atalo seems to be quite excited to go riding with you, from what I hear. You are the one he was going riding with, right?" Mearcstapa gets another hug as she's preparing to depart. "Take care of yourself," she tells him. "In my experience dairy and leafy greens both help, when you're feeling drained." Then she's making ready to leave, but not before people can say things to her in parting.
"You heard the man, Banana Dream," she apologizes to the silly frock of a shirt, setting it back on a hanging rack, and, swear to fuck, just for a moment, it almost looks like she says a prayer for it. She thumbs through the racks. "I think that you," she tells Mearcstapa while her eyes, which are a colorless grey, and her hands, which are too nimble, sweep through the thrifty goods. "Are more of a seafoam teal." She brandishes another floral print shirt like she's just pulled Excalibur from the stone, a vibrant ocean-chop blue that turns a few shades darker towards the top. She waves at Lamara with the Coral Sunset shirt she seems to be intent on purchasing for herself. "Cheers," she buzzes.
"Dairy and leafy greens. Not the juice and animal crackers they give you after you donate? Noted. Thank you, Lamara. Good luck in all your endeavors."
He hugs the ghoul back, before looking at River's new choice. "Hm. I might wear this one. If only to see how my partners would react to it."
"It's been a while since I rode on a horse." He confirms to Lamara. "Be safe Lamara." A nod as he looks to Mearc and River, studying the interaction curiously.
"I am!" She beamed. "You should come too, it would be fun."
"Let me buy it for you," River cajoles. "As a mea culpa for--," and she just gestures very intentionally with her eyes, like she's learned her lesson, and is making quite a show of being careful and respectful. "C'monnn. It's your color," she tempts, waving it back and forth like a snakecharmer's flute, a thoroughly ridiculous affectation given that it's a floral shirt, note a flute.
"Maybe I will! I haven't ridden a horse in ages. Good night, everyone!" Lamara waves before disappearing out the door.
"I will allow you to buy the shirt for me, Miss River. As an apology." He nods, and then offers his hand. "I'm Janus Mearcstapa. Most of my friends call me Mearcstapa or Mearc."
"Who else were you thinking of inviting for the riding?" He asks Rosalyn curiously, nodding. "And it is a deeply colourful shirt, yes." He comments with a smile.
She shrugged. "Whomever wants to go? I don't have a proper guest list at the moment, and if there's a great deal of interest... well, I do ride quite a bit."
River tosses the shirt over her shoulder and winds her slender-fingered hand around Mearc's paw to shake it congenially. "Which should I call you?" she wonders. Her skin is warm, just slightly too warm, like it's heated from within. That temperature, it sort of sticks to the skin, even after one's not touching her anymore.
He glances down at her hand. "I'm not sure yet, if we're going to be friends. You seem a bit chaotic, Miss River."
"Then I'm gonna call you whatever I want, but please don't call me Miss," she chides, releasing his hand.
A nod to Rosalyn. "That's a fair enough thing." He smiles, then gives Mearc a thoughtful look. "Aren't a few of your friends sometimes chaotic Mearcstapa?" He inquires.
Rosalyn was doing her best to stay out of what might turn into another argument- and she knew how that went around here. She leaned against the counter and took out her phone. "When would you like to go riding?" she asked Atalo, tilting her head to pull him away from River and Mearcstapa.
Mearcstapa shoots Atalo a clever little smirk. "Including you, Atalo."
And then he turns back to River. "So. Tell me a little more about yourself."
"I'm from New York, the state, not the city, I went to school here in town, I got a job, I find the most amazing shit at thrift stores," she buzzes while she hangs both shirts over her shoulder to pick something up in her hands and examine it. It's a music box.
She opens it, but no sound comes out, and so she turns it upside down to find the lever; half-broken, just barely enough to grip with her fingertips, but she does, and she winds it, and then sets it back upright, places it on a shelf, and opens the lid. It plays a little, thready melody for them, a private audience, and an old, worn ballerina spins, the thin bit of lace meant to be her tutu disheveled.
The notes are struck, and the ballerina spins, and the music plays, and River smiles at it appreciatively, but she waits until it's done playing before disturbing it, even before she answers Mearc further. "Consulting," she adds, in a profoundly delayed clarification of what her job is.
"I am fairly ordered, I feel." He hums thoughtfully to Mearc, but nods as Rosalyn draws his attention and turns to her. "Most evenings and nights I can manage." He tells her. "As long I'm aware two or three nights in advance and can ensure cover for the shop. So as soon as you're happy and able to do so is quite suitable."
"How about Sunday night then?" she asked. "Early evening, just after dusk when the stables finish the last class would be best."
"Security." A counter to River's offer of what her job is (and almost exactly as vague), as he looks thoughtfully at the small dancer in the music box. "And Youtube, I suppose, but that doesn't pay."
River closes the music box when it's done playing, and tucks it under her arm. Looks like that's coming, too. "YouTuber? What're YouTubin' about?" she heckles her own joke.
"Sunday." He nods. "Agreed. Almost no one shops on Sunday in any case. That I can do." He smiles. "Thank you Rosalyn. I'll enjoy the chance to ride again."
"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "I keep inviting people but no one ever comes. It's a little sad, actually. I mean who doesn't like horses?"
He smirks slightly. "Security." Sure, it's opaque, but he's a little self-mocking about it. "It probably wouldn't be hard to replace the lever on that music box, if you wanted."
That only makes River's grin a bit wider, her lips practically peel to show those flashing, white teeth. "A specialist," she crows. "I try to specialize, but it turns into... general-specialization," she admits, turning the music box over to give them both a closer look at the broken lever. "Do you think? I can sorta nab the end of it there if I claw it in between my fingernails," and she fusses with it before she passes it over to Mearc for closer inspection.
He lowers his voice slightly as he addresses Rosalyn. "Is what they're dong a form of verbal dancing?" He slants his head towards River and Mearc briefly. "And that's disappointing. I'm fond of horses if it helps, and I believe Lamara is too."
"Dancing... or sparring," she whispered with a grin. "Perhaps we need a commentator to narrate the exchange-'here we find two of the species circling one another,'" she said, clearly having spent time with Sir Attenborough lately.
"Horses," River tosses to Atalo and Rosalyn, "Have an excellent sense of timing. Did you know that horses have the fastest reaction speed of any domesticated animal? Even cats. Even cats." Apparently that's worth mentioning twice.
"Although I suppose jury's still out on if cats are truly domesticated..." she adds in a low mutter.
He gives River a bit of a laugh, before inspecting the music box. "So the options I see would be to dismantle and replace the lever with a new piece--downside being, you need a piece shaped for the purpose. Or you could affix something to the broken end of the lever to give you more...leverage. Superglue would do just fine, if you had something to put there."
Atalo's mouth twitches as he tries to mimic Rosalyn's tone. "Both seek an opening, never taking eyes from another." He pauses with a surprised look at River's interjection about horses. "I did not know that." he admits. "Is it true?" A look to Rosalyn. "My main interest lies in dogs, for their loyalty and dedication."
"Look it up," River chirps confidently. "It's true. It's not always the land speed. It's the reaction. That perfect timing. Horses've got it," she shakes her head like she's admiring the concept, can't help but click her tongue behind her teeth while she puzzles over the options Mearc has presented her with. "I can make something." She pauses. "3D printer." Nice.
"It *is! They are also extremely perceptive and incredibly smart. They don't forget either, which is why it can be so hard to rehabilitate a horse that has had its trust abused."
"Oooh. One of these days, I need to get my hands on one of those. I want to test out the trick of using one to print a key based on what you can see in a photograph alone. It seems like it wouldn't be too hard, if it's a familiar key type, like a Schlage or something."
"I will take great care then." He promises Rosalyn. "To gain the trust of whichever horse I ride." A glance at Mearc. "That would be part of your security work, to try that?"
River snaps in agreement with Rosalyn and then upnods her head at Mearc. "You can use mine. It is so terribly handy. There are so many tiny pieces that make things fit better together that we're just so used to living without," she muses, running her fingertip over the cracked sharpness of the broken lever's edge. "We're so used to it being, just, not as convenient as it could be, if only there was something to fill in the gaps." She boops her finger on the point of the broken lever, like she's daring it to cut her, but it doesn't, it's a strengthless bit of contact.
"It'd be more for the possible Youtube video than for my work...unless Wren can get in and get a picture of a security guard's keys on a job. That might actually make it a valid mode of attack."
He grins at the thought, and then seems to almost brace himself for a moment before glancing at River. "I'm a physical penetration tester, you see. Wren's my social engineer."
Ros, very politely, did not grin or show any sort of amusement. But it was there beneath the surface. She studiously pinched off another rose vine that was trying to grow around her wrist like a bracelet.
"Physical penetration tester," River repeats the words, tastes them, chews them up, makes them hers. "Social engineer." Hers now, too. "You break things so they can be fixed up better," she summarizes; it's half a question, but she doesn't intonate it like one. "Love it."
He blinks when the reaction he expected wasn't given, and then grins. "Exactly so. We break into places, to tell people where their vulnerabilities are. We're considering bringing on a digital security expert to do white-hat hacking alongside us." He glances at Atalo. "Alex, of course, is our ideal candidate."
Atalo nods. "Alex is insightful and dedicated." He agrees. "Though I lack the experience to understand her skills fully, I've seen enough to trust them." A glance at River. "Do you like fixing things?" He asks, in reflection to her earlier talk about things fitting together.
"Alex, I know an Alex, but he's dreadful and smells like pine nuts, this doesn't sound like that Alex," River pipes up at the mention of another person. "Still, you never know." She reacts to Atalo's question with a shrug, without breaking eye contact from the assortment of odds and ends on the far end of a shelf. "I don't know if I'd say that. I've broken as much as I've fixed. But I'm pretty fascinated in how thing fit together, in how they work. Or... how they don't," she admits.
Ros smiled faintly and crouched down to give Cerberus a good scratch behind the ears and murmured to him quietly about how he was such a good boy.
"The Alex I'm talking about is female. And doesn't smell like pine nuts? Not that I've spent too much time sniffing her, that would be weird." He lets out a bit of a laugh.
"I don't believe she smells like pine nuts, no." Atalo confirms. "And breaking things and fixing them might all be part of seeing how they work. I think creation is harder though." He smiles at Rosalyn and Cerberus, the dog looking up to return given affection, eyes closed in canine bliss as he nuzzles Ros's hand.
"I mean, that depends on how thorough your interviews are," River rejoins to Mearc. She seems to be done browsing, and is lingering over near the cash register, making the obligatory 'excited face' at seeing a dog, but giving it its space to nuzzle into its preferred human's attention. "And it depends on what you're breaking, or creating." Whatever the hell that means.
"I've never been fond of fixing things," Ros said. "Or making things. It tends to be tedious and not my forte."
Mearc gives Atalo a smirk. "Why do so many conversations in here end up turning philosophical?"
A nod at Rosalyn. "Interests vary," He smiles lightly before he considers Mearc. "It gives me things to think about during the night." He decides. "And seems to lead to discussions when I've got visitors and customers."
"Occupational hazard," River falls on the sword. " I spend a lot of time reading, and a lot of time talking about what I read. I just fall into it. Like a slip n' slide," and she glances around like maybe she half-expects to see a slip n' slide for sale on one of the shelves. Ah, shucks. Fate giveth, and fate taketh.
Rosalyn smiled to the others and patted Cerberus on the head. "Well I'll see you on Sunday," she told Atalo. "Thanks for the shoes! It's nice to have found something in my size for once."
"Take care of yourself, Ros." He grins at her. "And give Elio my fondest?"
"Cheers," River upticks her chin in a nod as she closes out paying for her wares, and flops out the seafoam teal floral print shirt in Mearc's direction. "What are we calling this one? Poseidon's Beach House?"
"I will, though you know he'd prefer to hear it from you directly," she chuckled.
"Be well, and I'm glad you like them." He smiles, nodding. An amused look goes to River's question about the shirt. "What would you like to call it Mearcstapa?"
"Roughly #71EEB8, give or take." He chuckles, then looks at River. "Sorry, didn't mean to hex you, there."
"Hex?" River repeats, nonplussed. "Oh, the color code," she realizes after a moment. "That's... that's a niche skill," she praises, features cracking into another flashing grin.
"I.. do not understand." Atalo blinks, glancing between them both.
"I defined the color of the shirt, using a hexadecimal system--hex--instead of actually giving the pattern a name. Though. Though, if the purple flowers were pinker, it would have to be compared to an Arizona Green Tea can."
"Hex," River repeats the word, chirping it like this is part of some ritual to help Atalo understand, but then she snaps her attention to the shirt to confirm the Arizona Tea Hypothesis ™️ . Alas. It holds water. "No... it's more like... Capri Sun," she offers.
"Ah." He nods, but doesn't comment further on Mearc's colour system, patting Cerberus lightly. "A sea or sun related name, or both? And tied to the colours? What about tidal horses?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure if a shirt needs a name, really?" He shrugs. "Though that makes me think of The Last Unicorn--the book, not the movie. I remember my older sister reading it to me as a kid, and there's a great mental image of all the world's unicorns being caught in the sea foam."
"How about seahorse, I can work with seahorse," River quips. "But call it yours," she insists, flashing them both a bright smile. "Well, it's been lovely to meet you both, let me just," and she dives her spare hand into her back pocket and slips each of them a business card.
"Thank you for your visit, and your purchases." He nods at River with a polite smile. "You are welcome to visit again, of course, Have a good night and be well. And I'll have to make sure to read that book Mearcstapa."
He offers her a business card in turn, which has numbers for himself and Wren. "Take care of yourself, River."
And then he turns to Atalo. "...do you still want to talk?"
A light nod to Mearcstapa. "If you are willing, yes."
"Thank you," River beams back. "You've got a date with my 3D printer," she warns Mearcstapa as she props open the door to let herself out, Coral Sunset floral shirt and music box tucked under her arm. "Wear the shirt." And then she's off and away.
"So demanding..." He tuts, waiting for the door to close behind River before leaning over the counter and looking at Atalo. "I'm willing."
The vampire nods slightly, considering him before vanishing briefly into the back and return with a bottle of orange juice that he offers. "Drink it if you like. It might help with energy levels." A pause. "I am worried, because you have signs of blood loss, which suggest one of us might be involved."
"One of you was definitely involved." He laughs, accepting the orange juice and cracking it open. "He couldn't even digest it, either, so I ended up holding his hair back while he threw it back up."
"Ah. Then not an attack?" He nods, relaxing a hair. "Good. But if you'll accept some advice, it might be good to have others present, if you didn't. We sometimes do lose control when feeding is involved."
There's a pause, as he sips at the juice before responding. "Atalo, are you asking to be invited to be present when I dally with another man? I didn't think you'd be into that."
"Ah." He nods, but doesn't seem embarrassed by the revelation. "That might be something you prefer being private then." A small smile. "All I'll advise you then, is to be careful. You are a friend and you matter."
"I was going to come here and subtly ask you about his reputation in general, in that subtle way I do, but now that you know my purpose, I'm less eager to."
"You should still ask." Atalo ventures. "No one is here except us and Cerberus, and I will." He considers his wording. "I will keep anything you tell me here secret unless doing so risks your life or the life of another. And I can hopefully give you your answers."
"His name is Jasper Wright? I may be donating blood to him again at some point--he seems to think in time he could learn how to digest changeling blood. Beside that, he's a great conversationalist."
"Ah." Atalo frowns. "I am afraid I don't know his name. However I am willing to try and learn more. I would attempt to do so discreetly."
"Atalo." Mearc shakes his head. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word discreet--not when it's you attempting to demonstrate it, or when others are using discretion in communicating with you."
"I am attempting to learn. Regardless, I would not need to speak or to ask. If he's new to the city, or becoming more active, I'll hear his name or perhaps meet him in person at some point."
"If you're trying to learn, one person you might want to pay closer attention to is Lamara. There's someone with a very light touch, socially. Of course, it means people sometimes miss her subtleties..."
He smiles slightly. "Lamara understands a good deal I don't. I've sought her advice a few times. And she's patient with my lack of understanding. So, I will take your advice there."
Mearc grins. "Good. Enjoy your walk with her. Take her someplace beautiful." And then he steps back from the counter. "I ought to go get some things done. Good to see you."
"Good to see you as well friend. If I hear relevant talk of Jasper, I'll pass it to you." He smiles, dipping his head. "Be well and thank you."
He offers a playful informal bow, and then exits.
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