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Sitting in one of the booths at Maddy's is Eugene Moon. They have a menu that's sitting at the edge of the table, and they're sipping a cup of tea which is held between their hands as they watch the staff bustle about doing their work.
Zoya comes through the weird magical portal that leads from a dead end alley to the interior of a diner out in the woods and turns around as she takes a couple of steps back from that threshold to look at the portal. As she shakes her head she laughs under her breath, then she turns to look out the window before shaking her head again. "That kind of thing never feels less weird," she says aloud in a voice that's thinly Russian accented. She catches sight of Eugene part way through the comment, so the tail end of it ends up delivered to the stranger, with a smile.
Eugene sips their tea as they watch these antics. "First time in here?" they ask. Their own voice has the touch of a Korean accent that's not quite even as faded as Zoya's, and the pitch fits firmly into a gendercryptic range. "I had just about the same reaction about ten minutes ago."
"How did you guess?" Zoya feigns as though she's hurt by having been so transparent, despite the obviousness of the observation. She even goes so far as to put a hand over her heart, like she's wounded. "I thought that I reacted like the picture of a seasoned portal traveler!" Meanwhile she walks over to Eugene's table, and a smile comes easily to her.
"You did say 'that kind of thing never feels less weird' while running to look out the window," Eugene points out with a slow gesture of their cup toward the window in question. "The obvious surprise was kind of a giveaway. Do you want to sit? I could go for some company. Go with? You know, I'm not sure which is right."
"That was out loud?" Zoya laughs again, and doesn't make even the least effort to sell the comment. What she does do is slide into the booth across from Eugene. "You don't have to ask me twice. I'm new to the area, and..." she trails off and looks back at the portal and then around the diner. "There's only one entrance, right? You're going to know what area I'm talking about?"
Eugene pretends to consider the first of the series of questions. "I hope that I wasn't accidentally reading people's minds, without even know that I could do so." They sip their tea briefly before they add, "it would be useful sometimes in my line of work, I guess. To answer your other question, as far as I know there's only one magical entrance. There is the one that goes outside." They uncurl one finger from their cup and point to the door. "I also hope you don't mind me asking this, but are you Zoya? From YouTube?"
"Wouldn't that also be against the rules?" Zoya reaches over and picks up the menu from the edge of the table to start looking it over. "I am that Zoya, yes," she says with a smile. "Don't worry, people ask that all the time, and if it bothered me I'd probably put on a different face to go out in public or something. Well, maybe not here? That might be considered rude. Oh my god, this all sounds so good." The menu, she probably means.
"That would almost certainly be a problem, yes. I haven't found myself magically ejected, or whatever happens to people who break the rules." Eugene puts down their cup of tea, leans forward, and reaches a hand across the table. Short, carefully trimmed nails, no painting on them, new jewelry. Plenty of tattoos. "I'm Eugene. I've heard about you from a number of my patients, and checked out some of your videos as a result. What brings you to Philadelphia?"
Zoya, lips and eyes alike all smiling, reaches for the offered hand and gives it a light and cheerful shake. Her nails are painted currently in a sparkly gold, but are also short. "I'm glad to know my global popularity hasn't waned!" she proclaims. "Your patients? Are you a doctor? As for why I'm here, that would be a complex explanation with a lot details I don't want to share, and some I'm happier to. A large part of it is that I'm not very popular in Russia, and I don't want to end up in prison. I'm an outspoken queer advocate from a country where that's not really okay."
"A psychologist," Eugene answers with a glimmer of a passing smile of their own. "So technically yes, but when people say 'doctor' they usually mean a physician." They nod and pick their tea up again, just in time for the server to come by and take their orders, which Eugene offers up gladly. When ordering is done they return to the topic at hand. "What might be of interest to you is that most of my patients are part of the LGBTQ+ community."
"Oh wonderful!" Zoya's expression actually lights up at the response she gets. "Mental health is so important, and its treatment is so under-appreciated." She places her own order when the server comes. "I wish there wasn't so much stigma with getting mental healthcare. I hear it's true here in the USA too? It definitely is the case in Russia."
"It's true here too," Eugene confirms glumly. "With considerable variation depending on where you live, your age, and various other factors. It seems like the younger generations are starting to appreciate the value of it, especially among the queer community, but there's still stigma."
"That's good! Hopefully things are trending toward acceptance, and people being able to get the help they need." Zoya turns to look out the window. "Are you taking patients? Do you have a business card or anything?" Her attention comes back to the present, and the person across the table from her. "I run into people sometimes who could probably use a referral, and knowing someone local that I could point people to is probably good."
Eugene shifts so that they can take a clip out of their pocket, which has cash and a few cards such as ID, a credit card, and some of their business cards. One of the last gets slid out and then across the table to Zoya. "Of course," they say in the meantime. "For that matter, if you ever need someone to talk to feel free to give me a call yourself. I know that our communities can be secretive sometimes, but confidentiality is important to me, as our my promises."
Zoya takes the card and tucks it away. "I'll remember that. Since you brought the topic of our communities up," she pauses to smile, "and the mention of promises, I suppose that broaches the topic well enough that I don't feel like a complete lout for wondering out loud which community you're a part of."
Eugene's soft laugh comes as their first answer to the question, and they shake their head. "I don't mind the question. I don't mind questions in general, as long as people are accepting of the times when I decline to answer them. In this case there's no need for me to do so. I'm a Changeling." They pause with their teacup most of the way to their mouth. "Since you took the mention of promises as a sign of something, I'm wondering if that doesn't surprise you."
"I wondered, but I try not to make assumptions about that kind of thing." Zoya laughs, which seems to come very naturally to her. "I myself am a mage. I don't know a whole lot about your particular community, especially when it comes to anything other than the very broadest details. It seems like mental health care could be valuable in a lot of supernatural communities, though."
"That's probably true," Eugene says without giving anything away. They simply shrug and agree. "I suspect that most of us run into things that our minds struggle to make sense of, at least on occasion." The food arrives, which provides an intermission from that discussion.
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