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Having just received her drink, Eyrgjafa turns from the bar proper, looking for somewhere to sit. She's not especially hungry right now, but that just makes it safer for her to walk amongst the living. Of course, if the opportunity arises, she won't say no...
Ally is sitting in a corner, nursing a Diet Coke with lime. She also has some Shepherd's Pie in front of her; it was just delivered so she's letting it cool. Dressed in Mom Jeans and a pale yellow blouse, she looks tired.
Thomás steps in with a bit of a look around and shrug. This'll do. he thinks to himself after a moment blank faced looking around. He attempts to take a seat at the bar, but looks fairly awkward, the stools just slightly, slightly too short for his 6'8" frame. He pushes it to the side with a bit of a understanding shrug and orders something dark and strong, knowing most pubs, he ends up with a Guinness. Allowing it to sit for a moment he turns and looks around the bar, taking in the sights. He's wearing something simple, jeans and a button up shirt, an ID hanging off one of the pockets with simply "Valesquez Clinic".
Eyrgjafa glances over at Thomás after a few sips of her drink. "Come here often?" She asks casually. Her attire is on the gothy side, but not to the extent that she looks out of place in this particular bar.
Thomás offers a wide smile, “You know, never even heard of the place until I walked by today. But, you know, seemed like a pretty okay place for a drink.” He chuckled softly and extends a hand, “Thomás, pleasure.” His hands seem as though they could palm a basketball, oddly large as the rest of him. No traceable accent is understood or heard though.
She shakes the offered hand, firmly but not overdoing it. "Eyrgjafa." She speaks with a distinctive accent, though probably not one Thomás is especially familiar with. "Always good to discover new things, I suppose."
“Always looking to get more acquainted with people, more like.” He once again chuckles, but more just an expulsion of air from his nostrils. He’s probably serious, but who knows these days. “From around these parts or somewhere... significantly more exotic?” Thomás shifts onto one of the stools, half standing, half perching, trying to be as un-awkward as possible, and like... half succeeding.
"Yes." She smirks slightly. "To give a more useful answer: Iceland, originally, but I've lived here for a while now." Over a century, in fact, not that she's going to tell him that. "You?"
"Iceland?" Thomás chews on that for a moment, "You know, I've literally always wanted to go, but I've never had the chance. I've heard it's beautiful though." He seems to think for a moment before answering his own origins, "Been here for about two years, but most of my time in Chicago and St. Louis. Both fascinating places with their own problems... but hey, gotta change up the scenery, right? A smile never really leaves his face, but seems to become more and more hollow as the words leave his mouth.
She gives him a curious look, but doesn't seem interested in prying. "Change is good, but there's something to be said for setting down roots in an area, too." Eyrgjafa takes a sip of her drink before continuing. "I'd welcome you to Philly, but I suppose that's a bit late if you've been here two years already."
Thomás keeps his smile up, but warms up a bit. "Honestly? I appreciate the welcome, I don't exactly get out much these days. The clinic keeps me... fairly busy, you know." He raises his glass slightly and nods towards Eyrgjafa. "As I said before, absolute pleasure." He looks around slightly before seeing the Jukebox/Realtunes music box. "Anything in particular you enjoy? Or just the chatter of the night?"
"The chatter, mostly. I love my books, but its good to get out and just people watch sometimes, y'know?" She smiles at Thomás. "What kind of clinic do you work at?"
Thomás nods slowly, "I completely understand that. I have the nasty habit of just... not being around people except work." He shrugs a bit, "Just a medical place I run, low key as possible, but if you ever need assistance, swing on by." He reaches into his breast pocket and hand offers a stark white card that looks just like his ID, with simply "Valesquez Clinic", an address, a cell number and a land line.
"Will do." She takes the card, sliding it into an inside pocket of her jacket, taking a sip of her drink before continuing. "Though I try not to get in the kind of trouble that means needing medical assistance, personally. Feel free to put something on if you want, by the way." Eyrgjafa adds, nodding at the jukebox.
"Let's be fair, that seems to be the mantra for a healthy life." Thomás side eyes her with a grin, "I was thinking about it, but never know what to play to a crowd, any favorites that aren't 70's soft rock?" He chuckles once more and stands to pull a 5 out of his wallet. "I'll even give you first pick."
"I actually tend not to listen to music much. Sorry." She returns the grin. "Maybe 80's soft rock? Is that a thing?" Probably. But Eyrgjafa's musical tastes were set in the 1880's. Not that she's actually going to tell Thomás that, of course.
The door to the pub opens, and there's a Jane. She's bundled up in a puffy marshmallow coat against the lingering cold weather, looking mildly frustrated with herself for having left the house. Her hair's back in a little ponytail, and there's a pair of fluffy white earmuffs on her head. Still. Still, she seems to be alright once fully inside, glancing around the room briefly. As she spots Thomas, there's a bituva wave.
Thomás shrugs, "Hey, I can get down with..." This actually seems to trip him up for a moment, "Wait, who the fuck was popular in the 80's...." He pseudo-mumbles to himself. He shakes his head and shrugs again, "Oh well, let's just get weird I guess." He steps toward the machine and slips the money in, taps on the screen for like 15 seconds and turns around, nefariously smiling still. Halfway back to his seat, Flock of Seagulls starts to play. "My taste is terrible, and I apologize in advance." Thomás offers a wave back, and a small motion to where he is stand-sitting.
A smallish person (seriously - they don't look old enough to be in here) slips into the place, taking a look around at the atmosphere. They've got their hands shoved into the pockets of their worn hoodie, and there's a dark smudge across one of their freckled cheeks. After a few seconds of getting their bearings they make their way toward the bar, quiet and unassuming.
Eyrgjafa shrugs slightly. "Like I said, I don't listen to music much, so." She glances towards Thomás, before following his eyeline to Jane. "Friend of yours?" She takes a sip of her drink, waiting for him to answer.
Thomas offers only a half shrug to Eyrgjafa, "I think so? I like to think so anyway."
The door opens again and after a few moments a whiff of fresh cut grass spreads around the room. Arthur had arrived, quiet as ever, looking around at the decor as he seems lost in thought.
Jane heads to the bar, but kinda nudges Calamity with her shoulder along the way. "Whatcha been up to, some kinda chimney sweep?" Her tone is fond and teasing. Eventually, she finds her way over to Thomas and Eyrgjafa, though, patting the former on the back lightly and offering the latter an upnod. "You two mind company?"
Thomás offers Jane a smile, "Heya there Jane. Hope you are well." He motions to Eyrgjafa, "We just met, but this is Eyrgjafa. Was just getting to know her." He motions toward Jane and looks to Eyrgjafa, "This is Jane. She works at a bookstore I have become... something of a regular at."
"Fine by me." She gives Jane a polite return nod. "Oh? What kind of bookstore?" Jane may or may not be familiar with her accent, but Eyrgjafa seems genuinely interested.
Calamity grimaces and swipes a sleeve across their face. "Bonfire." They squeeze between people at the bar to order, and bring their raspberry smirnoff ice over to stand a little awkwardly next to Jane. Staying close to person they know.
The young man seems puled out of his stupor upon hearing a familiar voice. Stepping closer to the bar he spots her. "J-jane?"
"It's something of a haven for occultists, people into ghosts and the paranormal and stuff. My boss loves that sort of shit." She looms protectively over Calamity, though she does glance up when Artie says her name. "Hey, you. Been alright, I hope?"
"I uh... Yes. It... It's been ok." He nods a little before looking at her companions. "Oh. Sorry to bother you. I'll leave you with your friends..." He says before going to well, he wasn't sure. Probably try a food.
"Bought some odd books there and someone was cool enough to give me a good price on, what equated to, bullshit. But it worked for what I needed, so whatever." Thomas chuckled softly, "Reminds me I need to come back around and grab a few more things. You know, the essentials." he drains his glass and motions for another, pointing at Jane, Eyrgjafa and Arthur. He also offers a small wave to Arthur when he notices him.
"I shall have to visit sometime, then." Occult shit is Eyrgjafa's jam. Not that she'd ever put it quite that way out loud. Thomás' finger-point gets a shake of her head, her still half-full glass lifted to prove that she doesn't need a refill. Giving Calamity a quick glance, she extends her free hand towards them. "I'm Eyrgjafa, by the way."
Calamity jumps - people paying attention to them? - and hesitantly holds out a hand. "Calamity. Uh...can you say that again? Your name?" Their hand is small, and calloused, and they meet Eyrgjafa's gaze with surprisingly pale greyish-green eyes.
"Sure, it's Shelf Indulgence, just off South Street--and I'm Jane." She turns to the bartender to order a hard cider, since Thomas is buying, and takes off her coat, setting it on the back of her chair. "Plain old Jane."
"Eyrgjafa." She repeats, making sure to go slowly enough that Calamity can catch each syllable properly. "It is unusual, I know, but my parents were old-fashioned. And Icelanders." That last part is true, but she actually chose the name herself, after arriving in America.
Artie waves back to Thomas. "Oh hi, Thomas. I didn't see you there for a second. H-hope you're doing o-ok?" He asks the doctor man.
"Jane who has been nothing but pleasant every time I've been around." He adds to Jane's introduction of herself. "I'm doing well, Arthur, if you want something feel free. I'm buying the first round." He offers a smile.
"Can't really talk about unusual names, can I?" Calamity gives Eyrgjafa a small smile and takes a drink, falling silent to watch the conversation around them.
She blinks at Thomas, and then frowns. "You've clearly never caught me at my worst, then. Someday, you will meet a very unpleasant Jane, I'm sure."
Thomás shrugs, "Well, I'll cross that friendship bridge when I get to it. Gotta take everything a day at a time, can't really worry about the worst of times." He takes a long pull from his glass.
She shrugs at Calamity. "It's not the oddest I've ever heard, don't worry." The exchange between Jane and Thomás catches her attention after that. "On the other hand, if you plan for the worst, every surprise will be a pleasant one."
Man, people sure liked to offer him drinks. Maybe he needed tovtry giving people drinks in turn. They seemed to like them. Tucking the idea into the back of his mind, the smith moved up to the bar and asked for a simple ginger ale and a food menu.
Thomás seems to mull it over in his head for a moment, "I mean, I get that, but doesn't that get to be a bit... I dunno, depressing?"
"Naw, hypervigilance isn't depressing, it's a legitimate response to a life where the worst is a very real possibility." She sips her drink, smirking.
"'S just realistic, isn't it?" Calamity eyes Thomás. "Can't be disappointed that way."
"What they said." She takes a large gulp of her drink, turning to the bartender to order some potato wedges. When they arrive, she oh so casually slides the bowl to where Calamity can easily reach it.
"You have to be prepared for bad stuff. Because bad stuff will happen. Isn't that why they have um... Insurance? And it's not depressing if you take being prepared as a silver lining. I hate surprises. Hate them," Artie pipes up.
She smirks at Thomas. "You've been outvoted, I'm afraid."
"Well shit, if I knew that I was hanging out with Nihilist, I would have dressed accordingly." Thomás looks ever so slightly dejected. "I'm just out here trying to live a life, you know."
"Aren't we all? Tryin' to live?" It sounds like a genuine question. "'S easier when you're realistic about shit. At least for me." They take another drink, and eye the potato wedges. But they don't take any. yet
"It's easy to do both. Being prepared and living. But... Aren't you like a doctor? Isn't your entire job based around the idea of being prepared for bad stuff?"
"Nothing we do matters, so all that matters is what we do." She pauses for a moment. "Also, we're hardly Nihilists, none of us are plotting to assassinate the Tsar."
"...that you know of." This seems directly appended to Eyrgjafa's comment with a grim sort of humor, before she leans into Calamity. "I'm blaming you for some of the recent upheaval in my life, by the way. Thank you."
Thomás mulls it over for a moment, "A doctor, yea. But like, I'm still looking for the best in people. Most of my cliental isn't exactly..." He pauses for a moment, to gather his words. "Most of my clients aren't exactly from the right side of the tracks, if you will."
"Wh...?" Calamity wrinkles their nose slightly in confusion and blinks up at Jane.
"Mh. Talks about who I am and shit. Not a big deal, but thank you all the same." She lifts her bottle at them.
"A good kind of upheaval, then, I take it?" She glances between the pair, before reaching out and snagging one of the wedges. "These are really good, by the way."
Artie looks quizzically at Thomas. "So? Just because people do a bad thing, does that mean they aren't people? Everyone deserves to be treated the same way. So it's good that you help them anyway. Isn't it?" He seems... Curious about the matter.
"A necessary sort of upheaval, that I'm still trying to assess the goodness of." Jane's phone vibrates, and she pulls it out to read a text. It brings a soft sort of smile, one that seems at odd with her usual resting butch-face.
"Oh." They nod. Their eyebrow twitches upward at Eyrgjafa's comment about the fries, but they still don't take any. They're her fries.
"But I expect better out of them. Regardless of my position or what I choose to do for a living. Anyone that walks into my door is going to get the help they deserve and want. But I still expect them to be good people at the end of they day. Whether or not that comes to fruition is something that I'm willing to deal with." Thomás shrugs, "It's a bit Naive, I'll tend to agree, but it keeps my eyes up and my heart a little less heavy at the end of the day."
There is a quiet volley of texts. After a moment, Jane looks up at Eyrgjafa. "Hey, mind I steal a potato wedge or two?"
"Go ahead." She shrugs. "If I'm still hungry when it runs out I can always order more." Not that they actually give her any meaningful sustenance, but. Small human needs food, and she has plenty of money from her day night job. So.
Jane takes three potato wedges, puts them on a cocktail napkin, and sets them in front of Calamity.
"Hmmm...." Arthur mulls this idea of Thomas' over. "Doesn't everyone expect everyone to be a good person though? Until you know they aren't anymore?"
"D'you talk to your brother about it?" They ask Jane. And then they glance at Eyrgjafa, noting her response, and then Jane again. "Those...for me?"
"Unless you don't want them?" Eyrgjafa shrugs again. "It's not like you'd be stealing bread out of my mouth, kid. I can easily spare the cost of some bar food." She takes a sip, waiting for their response to being called "kid".
A final text, and Jane tucks her phone away with a definite lingering grin. "Eat, eat. Shouldn't fucking drink like that on an empty stomach."
"...Thanks." It's to both of them. You know how sometimes, when you have a lot of siblings or some shit, you kinda gotta protect the food as you're eating, and eat it fast? Yeah. Calamity does that, and so the potato wedges disappear very quickly. Being called 'kid' makes them grimace just slightly, but it's clearly something they're used to and don't think it worth complaining about.
"A vast majority of the time, if they are coming to me, it's already been proven they aren't a good person in one way, shape, or form." Thomás smiles softly, and then he jumps like a giant scared cat. "Fuckingshit." He searches around his four pockets for his phone and reads a text, he rolls his eyes a bit and tucks the phone away again. It's been an absolute pleasure speaking with you all, but I've gotta run." He pulls out his wallet and slaps a a 50 and a 20 on the counter. "That should cover whatever these heathens are looking for." He looks towards Eyrgjafa and nods slightly, "It was an honest pleasure, I hope to see you in the future." Looking toward Jane and Arthur, he smiles widely, "It's always a pleasure with you two, I'm sure I'll bump into you guys again." And to the group, "Have a pleasant evening, everyone."
"Be safe out there, doc." She nods.
"G'night. Be careful. Hope people are good." He says with a small grin and a wave before looking at the other people, most of whom he doesn't know at all.
"Nice meeting you, Thomás." She returns the nod, flagging down a bartender to order some more wedges for Calamity. When that's done, she takes a sip of her drink, before glancing at Arthur. "Sorry, I don't think we've been introduced? I'm Eyrgjafa."
Thomás strides out in a bit of a quick fashion, waving to everyone.
Jane sips her cider, glancing at Eyrgjafa. "So, anything in particular you'd be looking for at Shelf Indulgence? I mean, besides the general broad woo-woo stuff."
Artie Blinks. "Ear java? That's a hard name. Where's it come from?" He replies with a slightly furrowed brow. "B-but I'm Arthur." He offers a hand.
Eyrgjafa's lips compress slightly at the description of her name as 'hard'. "Eye-er-gya-fa." She corrects. "And it's from Old Norse." She turns to Jane. "That's an amazingly terrible pun. Please tell me you came up with it?"
"Fuck no, that was all my boss. He's...uh. Like, he doesn't have kids, but he's still fulla all the dad jokes. And good advice. And supportiveness."
"Good to know." She finishes off the remains of her drink before continuing, setting the empty glass down on the bar. "To answer your question, mostly historical fiction. Especially the romances."
"Old Norse... O-ok." He mutters, putting his hand down when she doesn't take it. He seems a little put out, that he couldn't say the name correctly. Deciding it best to not offend further, he pokes at the ice in his ginger ale.
"I'm not going to be able to help you much with that section; I don't read romances, myself. But sure, we do have a fair few historical romances. I'm guessing you're in it for hot Vikings?" She raises an eyebrow, though it's more puckish than Spockish, this time.
Calamity huffs out a soft laugh at that. "There's a girl I know who's obsessed with that kinda shit."
"I plead the Fifth?" She grins at Jane. "But also, only if they're hot shieldmaidens. Or valkyries." Calamity gets a glance. And the newly-arrived second bowl of wedges slid their way. "Oh? Do you mind if I ask her name?"
Artie bites his tongue. Positive he shouldn't tell people about how Sigrun was a valkyrie. But man... How often was he gonna get the chance tovtalk about viking things? "The vikings were pretty cool. Made real good swords by accident. And I guess they smelled nice."
"Hot shieldmaidens, maybe. I'll be sure to look, when I go into work tomorrow." She nods, then looks at Calamity. "Ey, wanna split some nachos with me? I want like, something totally messy and spicy, but won't finish it all alone."
Calamity shifts uncomfortably. "Just...a girl I know, and I don't know her that well..." They glance between Eyrgjafa and these new potato wedges, waiting on a 'yeah those are yours' confirmation from her. And to Jane: "I...wasn't planning on buying any food here..."
"That's nice, but totally not the point. I'm buying. Extra jalapenos."
"Can -" they pause, take a breath, and continue. "Can the jalapenos be on the side?" Hey, look at that, they're asking for things!
"Oh. A shame. I know a cool viking like battle lady in town. She's nice. Only other person I know who uses a spear sometimes. She teaches uhm... How did she put it? Archaic weapon fighting styles as a job. Good with horses too." He finally admits. There. This wasn't a lie and didn't have the word valkyrie in it.
"Jalapenos on the side it is." She nods, flagging down the bartender to place the order.
"Don't worry about it, just making conversation." Eyrgjafa makes a 'go ahead' gesture towards the wedges, putting in for another glass of cider after the nachos order gets processed. Arthur gets a curious glance. "Oh? What's her name? I might look her up sometime."
"Sigrun. Uh...I dunno if she has a last name." He replies after a moment of thought. He hadn't bothered to ask if she had a last name but he would next time. "She would make a really good Valkyrie cosplayer if she wanted but I don't think she'd be into it. Not to mention boob armor is stupid. But maybe I'll ask her next time I see her."
Jane's nachos arrive, and she does a quiet munch, listening to Eyrgjafa and Artie.
Calamity slows down on the potato wedges a little, and sets the basket to the side to share some nachos.
Eyrgjafa nods along to Arthur's explanation, though looks like she has no idea what a 'cosplayer' is. "So, uh, Jane, mind if I ask what you do for fun?"
"Uh, well. I hang out with some of the book store regulars--folks like good doctor Thomas. And work out, try and keep myself in shape. Been known to occasionally end up in fights, sometimes." She shrugs.
"I've seen...her?" They don't sound entirely certain about the pronoun. "Jane fights good."
"Her's fine, them's also fine." A nod.
"I've never gotten to see Jane fight. Could... Could I some time?"
"I don't mean to offend, but, um. Isn't 'they' plural?" Eyrgjafa looks confused. "English is not my first language, I still get things mixed up sometimes."
Jane shakes her head, looking down into the nachos as she speaks, the tips of her ears turning red. "They...has also come into use as a neutral pronoun, for people who don't strictly identify as male or female."
"It's one of the gender-neutral term we've got, in English." Calamity, on the other hand, raises their chin to meet Eyrgjafa's eyes. "There's a fuckton of others, but a lotta people use it, if they don't wanna use 'he' or 'she'."
Artie blinks. "Oh. Cool!" He says reaching over to put his stupid hot hand on Jane's shoulder, smiling brightly.
"...Huh. Learn something new every day, I suppose." Eyrgjafa doesn't flinch from Calamity's gaze. "Should I be using it for you, then, Calamity?"
Jane takes a deep breath. "It's...something I'm still working out. Explaining it to people is new to me, and not comfy. But it's not a big deal."
"Does this mean you don't wanna be She-Hulk anymore? Cuz I dunno what to do with all the green skin paint now. Hmm... Maybe I'll be a Skrull. Or... Hulkling? No. I'm not tall enough for Teddy...." He asks curiously.
"Yep. They/them only for me. Or...Calamity, if you get confused."
"I will totally still cosplay She-Hulk. I don't...um. It's not like dressing up like a female character is going to be weirder than, you know, acting like a girl for most of my life has been."
"Ok. Well the rest of your costume is ready whenever you wanna pickbit up. Or I can bring it to you?" He offers, sipping his soda.
"Wait, where're you gonna cosplay She-Hulk?"
"I'll keep that in mind, then." She raises her glass towards Calamity slightly, as if to salute them, before taking a sip. The conversational drift towards cosplaying stuff leaves her looking totally blank.
"Maybe Halloween? I don't know where else I'd wear it, but I promised Artie I would. And besides, it kinda sounds like fun." She might be a tad embarrassed by the idea, but is going along in good spirits.
'You'd rock She-Hulk." Calamity nods. "Oh fuck but - have you read Doom Patrol? Or...seen the new show, or whatever?" They ask both Artie and Jane.
"No? It has a show? On what channel? Or is it on Netflix? I didn't see it." He seems antsy and excited, the ambient light in the room brightens a bit. "I've never gotten to read 'em but I know who they are."
"The only comics I've read are She-Hulk, trying to figure out if I'd dress as her, honestly."
"Okay so. Doom Patrol's got a season on DC's streaming service or whatever, but I just...find it from places I don't have to pay for. It's really good, they did some good shit to update it, Jane you should watch it. It's about a bunch of fuckups with shitty powers who have to be superheros anyway." They have trouble keeping still when they're excited, apparently. "Anyway - hear me out - Cliff." They say that to Artie before turning to Jane. "He's...basically a brain in a robot body because his body was destroyed, and that fucks with him a lot 'cause he's always like...comparing himself to his former masculinity? And there's this kinda obscure run of it written by a trans woman, and she introduces a trans character that like, explains to Cliff that his...person-ness is what makes him a person. Not his body, and if he doesn't want his consciousness tied to masculinity it doesn't have to be." They pick up a cheese covered chip when they finish speaking, and cronch it while they wait for Jane's reaction.
Jane blinks a few times as she processes that thought. "Oh. Yeah, that's...huh, yeah."
"Here -" They pull their phone out - a beat up looking smartphone - and start tapping away, before showing Jane. "Here's him in the comic, and here's him in the show. Be a kick-ass cosplay."
Eyrgjafa just sips at her cider through Calamity's excited rambling, doing her best not to look like she doesn't have any idea what Calamity is talking about.
"So does he change his name from Robot Man?" Artie aska curiously. "But that sounds cool. I didn't know DC had a streaming thingie. I gotta check it out. Oh duh! I could be Beast Boy with all my extra green paint stuff."
Jane is quiet for a long moment, before nudging Calamity with her shoulder. "Thanks."
Calamity eyes him. "Yeah. You'd be a good Beast Boy. And he just goes by his name for most of the late 80s and early 90s runs, and in the show. They just called him Cliff 'cause that era's team was less of like, a classic superhero team than their silver age shit." "Yeah, 'course," they say to Jane with a lopsided grin. "If you watch any of it, lemme know.”
"I'll let you know. But for now, I've gotta get home. Work in the morning, and plans after work." She stands, dropping cash on the counter to cover the nachos.
"Thanks for the food. I should...prolly head out soon, too." They drain the last of their raspberry Smirnoff Ice (people drink those??) and pull out a beat up wallet from their back pocket to throw a few crumpled bills on the bar, too. "...Arthur, right? D'you ever go to Amalgam? Over in East Kensington?"
"Night Jane! Get home safe. And have good sleep!" He says to her with an exuberant wave. "Oh uh... My name is Arthur by the way, uh Ca-calamity. But some people call me Artie." He offers a hand.
Calamity happily shakes it, their hand a little rough and calloused. "It's a pretty sweet comic shop there, 'f you don't know it."
"How late is it open?" Eyrgjafa asks, looking curious. "I'm a bit of a night owl."
"'Til eight most nights. And same though, I'm usually up really late..."
Artie's hand is also a bit rough and calloused but it is also very warm, nearly uncomfortable to touch. "Amalgam? No I haven't but I wanna go now. Is it named after the Marvel/DC cross over arc from the 90s?" He asks after they stop touching.
Calamity doesn't flinch at his touch, but they frown just a little at the warmth. "I don't work there, but probably. It's like a coffeeshop, too, it's pretty cool."
"I'll have to check it out if I'm ever up early enough, then." She grins at Calamity. "Don't let me keep you if you have places to be, though, I just came here to people watch really."
"Yeah I should head out - 's nice to meet you. I wanna talk comics with you." They gesture to Artie. "If we run into each other at Amalgam." They traipse out of the bar, pulling a battered zippo from their pocket as they go.
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