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Line Ritmo: WAFFLES! Was there any other reason to come to Maddy's? Well, aside from the company that sometimes sauntered in. Line was atop a stool, he legs kicking freely as she horfed down a stack of waffles. Flashes of color danced across her black skin in delight- a show only other changelings would really see.
Mearcstapa: Mearcstapa's mantle is felt before he's seen, that 'suddenly you are being chased by a predator through a cornfield in October' thing that he's all about (or the collection of sensations that make that up. He's dressed in a University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology t-shirt, paired with his usual cargo pants and messenger bag, hair back in a little-bitty-baby ponytail.
"This seat taken?" Hand already on the stool beside Line when he speaks.
Line Ritmo: The feeling couldn't ruin the mouthful of waffle Line had, even as she looked around for its source. She relaxed, and stuck another mouthful in before swallowing the first, and then had the temerity to answer while still chewing. "Oh, hey, Mearf. Fah, hafe a feath."
Mearcstapa: "Thank you." He does hafe that nearby feath, glancing at the menu. "Now, how horribly do I want to misbehave this morning?"
Line Ritmo: Line swallowed, and managed to pause before eating more to place he hands on his menu. She demarcated a third of the menu with them- the entire waffle variety section. "All of that," she told him. "And whatever you cant manage, Ill make sure doesnt go to waste." She winks at him.
Mearcstapa: "...that wasn't what I meant by misbehave, quite. I was just debating how unkosher a selection I was going to make. The pigs in mud is one of my favorite waffles they serve here. I'd feel weird eating it in front of a rabbi."
Line Ritmo: "Oh! Ah...well...I...don't know much about faith in general, so, like....I guess that depends on what kind of person the rabbi is?" Line managed with a shrug. "I mean...aren't most religions centered around forgiveness?"
Mearcstapa: He wrinkles his nose. "No, that's...really not how Judaism works, no."
Line Ritmo: "Oh...." She put down her fork and turned to face him, hands folded on her lap, smile upon her face and eyes wide. Waiting.
Mearcstapa: "Judaism is about...I suppose if I had to boil it down to one core concept, 'tikkun olam'. Mankind was made to be partners in creation alongside God, and the stewardship of the world was given to us. And that's awesome, and also scary. But like. We really, really don't focus on this whole heaven or hell thing, right? We mostly worry about what good can we do here and what good can we do now? God's not going to fix everything, we've got to do a lot of the heavy lifting ourselves."
Line Ritmo: "Oh, okay, so that makes sense I guess. Sorry! Thank you for telling me, though. I am wayyy more used to people brushing me off." Line grinned at him. "You're such a sweetie!" She picked up a waffle like a slice of toast and started munching away again.
Mearcstapa: He chuckles. "I'm not going to say I'll always tell you everything you want to know, but I like infodumping. That's a whole mode of communication for me--both to share and to receive; one of my friends went on a ramble about pigeons at me the other night, and I just sat there watching him with heart eyes."
Line Ritmo: "Pigeons? Did they have rockets?" Line asked in between bites.
Atalo Ceres: The portal releases a stocky figure in apparently second hand clothing, worn and a touch battered. Looking about as he enters, Atalo takes a deep breath that seems more habit then anything else, going by his pale skin and lack of a heartbeat. A momentary pause as he remembers something and an ornate and extremely well crafted axe on his back becomes visible, the design of a stag with the moon between its antlers visible.
Dark eyes falling on Mearcstapa the figure strides his way, a hand raising in greeting. "Mearcstapa. Hello friend." Line is considered with a fairly passive expression and a polite nod.
Mearcstapa: "The pigeons did not have rockets. Rockets would probably have destroyed the loft they were being kept in." He glances over his shoulder at Atalo with a smirk. "Hello, old man. Have you met Line Ritmo, of the Autumn Court? Line, this is Atalo Ceres, of the Circle of the Crone."
Line Ritmo: She propped up a hand at the introduction- Line was an average height woman, rather slight of build, with short hair that came to her rather strong jaw. Her eyes shone with curiosity, particularly when Mearc said 'Circle of the Crone'.
"Hi!" she exclaimed. "And it could have been tiny rockets. Like miniature lift assist ram jets they use on big planes."
Atalo Ceres: "I have, but only just now." The relentlessly literal vampire answers Mearc. "The Autumn Court, hgn, a colleague then?" He settles himself carefully in a chair, glancing between them and canting his head. "Surely you are not experimenting with providing poultry firearms?" Atalo asks in slightly deadpan fashion. "I know this age has many wonders, but I'm unsure if that would qualify."
Daniel Hawthorne: Not long after Atalo's arrival Daniel made his own way through the portal, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder. The blushed Haunt was well-dressed as tended to be the case, a dark green scarf wrapped firmly around his neck. Spotting a few familiar faces he smiled, giving those gathered a polite nod.
Mearcstapa: "The rocket fuel would surely not be healthy for the pigeons. The person who built the loft is doing it to try and help make a healthier pigeon population within the city."
A pause, and a wave at Daniel, before he decides. "I think I need the pigs in mud waffles today."
Line Ritmo: "No, not fire arms, silly," Line said, swaying a bit with a grin. "Trying to make them go faster. Impractical anyways...you would need to re calibrate their wings, and biologicals simply do not have that capacity," she noted. "I just like to tease the Scrivener here about rockets on everything." She did a full 360 on her stool, and a bit more, till she was facing Atalo. "So you know us, know the Scrivener, and you're...very old I am guessing. So...cool."
Atalo Ceres: "Good evening." He offered to Daniel, dipping his head. "How are you?" He offers Mearc a pondering look. "Is this person aware of our nature? I have something of an ability to communicate with animals, though as you know I prefer canines."
His eyes regard Line a moment before he speaks, hands still and not conveying the usual gesturing someone does when speaking. "It's an argument to be made. I stopped ageing when I was embraced. But Mearcstapa enjoys calling me old man." A slight smile touches his lips.
Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel approached the trio at the wave from Mearc, making a "may I?" motion at one of the nearby stools. When he spoke it was just above a whisper, hints of an almost British accent coming through. "Doing well, thank you. Hope it's the same for you all."
Mearcstapa: "Do join us. Line, Daniel Hawthorne of the Ordo. Daniel, Line Ritmo of the Autumn Court." A small pause. "Oh, good, you're teasing about the rockets. I've been assuming you're serious."
Line Ritmo: "Sometimes I am serious, sometimes I am not, you gotta guess," Line told Mearc, then waved at Daniel. "Hello, Mister Hawthorne!" She side glanced to Mearc, and waggled her finger between Atalo and Daniel, a question on her brows. Then she nodded to the former. ""You can talk to animals? Oh that is nifty. There should be a club of people that can talk to animals, and then maybe they should see if they can talk to each other. I bet that would be harder." She waggled her brows. "So this isn't makeup, you just look that good? Awesome. How old are you? Or is that rude to ask?" She looked aorund on the last question.
Atalo Ceres: "How do we tell?" Atalo asks Mearc quite seriously on the topic of guessing whether Line is serious or not. He takes a moment to adjust to the barrage of questions, thinking them through. "I can talk to animals, though the depth of conversations vary and it isn't like talking to people. It is more instinctual, emotional." A glance at Mearc. "I look good?" A glance back to Line. "I think some might find it rude, but I don't. I won't give my exact age, but I am older then the formation of the United States."
Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel nodded at the motion between himself and Atalo to answer Line's unspoken question, setting his bag down beside the stool before taking a seat himself. "Only 38 myself, so not that exciting." Not that he looked much older than 25, but stranger things...
Mearcstapa: "I was born in 1965. So...fifty-five, if we want to play with the math a little and not subtract my 'time of occlusion'." He wibbles a hand mid-air.
Line Ritmo: Line whistles appreciatively at the collective ages. "Oh Mister Hawthorne, you're my age. Just about, but Scrivener! I had no idea you were so ancient. Like..was there TV in your day even?" It was difficult to tell by inflection and beaming expression if she was serious or not. "Okay, I'm done with questions- you can go back to doing the important small talk if you wish."
Atalo Ceres: "I, hm." The Gangrel ponders quietly. "I'm not sure age and wisdom fully correlate. Mearcstapa tends to be wiser than me. Or, better with other people at least." He taps the table quietly. "Asking questions here won't hurt, if you have more." He remarks to Line. "And I suspect Daniel has a grasp on events I lack."
Daniel Hawthorne: "I'd say it counts." Daniel nodded to Mearc, smirking a touch at Line's follow up question. "There may be some things I can't touch on, but not opposed to questions in general."
Mearcstapa: "There were even arcade games, by the time I was taken, Line." He gives her about as heavy a look as one can, when one's eyes are empty and it's hard to tell where one's attention is focused.
A pause, and then he turns to Atalo. "You would be better with people if you got out of the shop more often. Seriously, you need to spend more time here. And visit Luigi Fabri at his theater sometime. And otherwise be social--and not just with your own kind. Horror movie nights in the back room of Book's. All the fun things."
Line Ritmo: "I like the sound of a movie night," Line notes quietly. "Maybe I can find me an old VHS and fix it , do classic movies....nah...thats like..copying." She looked between Daniel and Atalo. "So...like...are you more powerful than him?" she asked pointing from Atalo to Daniel. "Because you're older? Or am I wayyyyy off base?" She pokes Mearc without looking at him. "He's more powerful than me, but not because he's older."
Atalo Ceres: Atalo offers Mearc a wry glance. "I remain grateful for your caring for me. But spending time here is what I'm doing." He offers a slight smile. "I did enjoy the movie night, even if I didn't completely understand it." He pauses at Line's question, canting his head. "Age isn't always a demonstration of power for us. There are many younger then me who are far stronger." Did he sort of dodge the question? Maybe.
Little Fox: The portal disgorges one (1) small, ratty-looking Thyrsus in an oversized t-shirt that reads WALK INTO A CLUB LIKE WHAT UP I GOT A BIG D-OH GOD THIS IS A FUNERAL, I'M SO SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS and a pair of ratty cut-off shorts because apparently Fox is raiding Leta's clothing this morning. Her hands clasp on to the handles of her backpack's straps, and she looks -- more tired than usual. Which is to say 'not overflowing with boundless energy.'
Mearcstapa: Mearc's waffles (covered in rapidly-melting chocolate chips and shards of bacon) arrive at the table. "I maintain a stronger connection to our Court, Line. I'm not sure if my Wyrd is actually stronger than yours, if we're being honest."
And then he notices Fox, waving her over to the knot of people. "I was talking about you earlier. Were your ears burning?"
Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel nodded to confirm Atalo's answer. "We all have our own focuses as well, so one can't say at a glance what abilities one can call on."
The Haunt looked up at Fox's arrival, giving her a polite nod. "Evening."
Atalo Ceres: Atalo's own eyes shift to Fox and he offers a nod of his own. "Good evening." A glance over to Mearc, then back to Fox. "Ah. You're the one who built a loft for pigeons? I'm Atalo, a.. friend? Of Mearcstapa's."
Little Fox: "Two of them, actually," Fox answers, adding, "Mearcstapa, are you trying to get me started on the wrongs done to pigeons by modern Western society?" It's a vaguely-amused tone that rides under Fox's speech, and they pad around to touch his shoulder, tipping their chin up slightly. "Hi. Everyone calls me Fox. Used to be Little Fox, but most people just use Fox now."
Mearcstapa: He leans into the shoulder touch, grinning. "Oh no, more infodump. How awful." Clearly sarcastic, this.
And then he looks at Atalo thoughtfully. "You don't sound very confident in our friendship. Clearly I need to come visiting more often, just so you know how much I appreciate you."
Daniel Hawthorne: "Daniel Hawthorne. Good to meet you." The Haunt looked alive enough at the moment, but the whispered words and dark green scarf around his neck may offer a hint of something being afoot. "I did see something online about that recently..."
Atalo Ceres: "It seems a tragic element of society that what was once cherished is cast aside when it's no longer deemed needed." Atalo offers quietly. "I might have more reasons to seclude myself." He looks over at Mearc. "And no. I hold you in high regard. I am just.." He pauses, failing to find accurate words.
Little Fox: The Thyrsus pinches Mearcstapa's shoulder and offers wryly, "It's infodump you've already heard. It would just be a replay of one of Fox's greatest hits." She shifts her weight to lean on one leg, then bumps against Mearcstapa as if to say 'make room.' "... you saw something online about pigeons?"
Mearcstapa: Mearc shoves over to make space for Fox, and moves his plate full of 'pigs in mud waffles' to between himself and them, with a wink. Then his attention drifts back to Atalo. "...just? Atalo Ceres, I am very fond of your company. You're someone whose friendship I cherish."
Daniel Hawthorne: "Was something my sister showed me about how malnourished they tend to be these days." Daniel nodded, pausing to put an order for coffee and a plain waffle with bacon to a passing staffer before continuing. "Guessing you're working on fixing that?"
Atalo Ceres: "I am learning that." He smiles at Mearc. "I think I've simply spent too long with just Cerberus for company, until several months ago. Not that I object to Cerberus' company. Be patient with me, and I'll get more familiar with socializing." A cant of his head to Fox. "I was curious if I could be of any help. Being involved in a worthwhile project is appealing, and I've some talent with animals myself, albeit I'm more used to canines rather than avians or." A twitch of a grin as he attempts a joke. "Vulpines."
Vasily Tometchko: >Poit<
Dressed in a black track suit with white reflective running stripes, a bleach white wife-beater, an assortment of gold chains, and a pair of blocky knock-off rayban sunglasses, a wild slav has arrived! He appears to be miming flicking a cigarette away, which he probably was doing before stepping into the portal, given the final bit of smoke he exhales upon arrival. He stands before the bulletin board and stares at it with a slav's grin. Which is to say he's scowling at it.
Little Fox: The fox flashes her vulpine teeth at Mearcstapa in a grin and reaches for one of the unused forks sitting in front of the vampires, the better to hack off a chunk of waffle and deliver it into that inhumanly-toothed maw. "Oh, yeah, about the malnourishment and actually also about the overpopulation. I realized yesterday that it's kind of ironic that I really am trying to do good by stealing eggs from nesting birds, but I am! I'll be replacing them with inert egg blanks, so I don't mess up their brooding. If I just handle the malnourishment and the pests, then we'll have a population explosion." A little grin at Atalo and she says: "They're all canidae -- " and whatever she was about to say is abandoned as she drops her fork, hops up from her seat, and runs pell-mell at the wild slav, all the better to fling her arms around his neck and climb him like a tree for smooches. "Vashaaaaa!"
Mearcstapa: Mearc switches to Russian to greet Vasha, coming out with something like 'breakfast is on me, you big bastard', but the grammar might be slightly off. The intention's clear enough, though!
Atalo gets a nod. "Hey, you haven't scared me off yet, with your poor social graces."
Daniel Hawthorne: "Makes sense. Hope it goes well." Daniel nodded, sparing Vasha a brief glance as he arrived. Seeing Fox scamper off towards him earned a small smirk, watching them for a moment.
Atalo Ceres: "I.." His own response to Fox is cut off at how energetically she greets Vasha and he blinks at the pair, taking a moment to adapt before looking back to Mearcstapa. "Even I can gain an insight into their relationship." He offers dryly, then smiles again. "Because I am protective and loyal and dedicated, and am hoping listing my more positive traits isn't arrogance."
Vasily Tometchko: Oof. Vasha lists a bit when he's leapt upon, though he straightens back up again as though he is used to be climbed. He is. He gives the Thyrsus a series of greeting kisses before setting her back down onto her no doubt bare feet. "Yes. Yes. Yes. It's me. Hello, Fox. I love you, too." He pats her bottom affectionately before turning from the bulletin board to consider the others present and, in particular, Mearcstapa. Then he grins broadly, continuing in Russian himself, "Lobsters will come down from the mountains before I refuse a free meal." He claps his hands together, rubs them briskly, and leads Little Fox on back towards the table. "Hello," he offers to the others. In English, this time.
Mearcstapa: "...I think I missed the first word of that. What was that? ...Omary?" Clearly looking to continue building his vocab, because 'lobsters' wasn't in the everyday vocab they went over before. "These are Atalo and Daniel, by the way. Friends. Very good friends."
Little Fox: This is, in fact, apparently typical behavior for Fox and Vasha. "I know," Fox answers, sticking her tongue out at him. The excess of energy seems a little brittle, a little frenetic, for someone who knows Fox as well as the Acanthus does. Put-on, perhaps, which is unusual. They get lead happily back and scoot scoot into the booth where they were sitting next to Mearcstapa, making room for the Ukranian as well. "My Heart, this is Daniel and Atalo. Atalo and Daniel, this is Vasily." She picks her fork back up and starts eating the waffles again, as if she hadn't left her chair at all.
Atalo Ceres: "Hello Vasily." Atalo offers with a polite nod. "I'm Atalo, as said. Gangrel and Guardian of the Circle of the Crone. Though here, I am simply acting as one of Mearcstapa's friends, and one curious about Fox's intentions with tending to the pigeon population."
Daniel Hawthorne: "Good to meet you." Daniel gave Vasha a nod, the greeting whisper-quiet. Being referred to as a "very good friend" led the Haunt to perk up a bit, looking to Mearc with a small smile.
Mearcstapa: Mearc takes a couple more bites of the waffles he's now sharing with Fox, giving a quick wink in Daniel's direction.
Vasily Tometchko: "Lobster? Омар?" Vasha asides to Fox, "You see? The do not teach the idioms in language classes!" He looks back to Mearcstapa, "It is the idioms, you see, that I still have trouble with. Lobsters coming from the mountains. Is like when pigs fly. Or. A cold day in hell. Same idea. Get refund on your language course, teacher sucks." With the booth crowded, he just pulls up a chair to the end and drops into it with a grunt. A chin up is tossed first to Atalo, then to Daniel. "Vasha. I'm a member of a secret society of world spanning secret agents responsible for safeguarding the eldritch secrets of a long dead society of stupid wizards. They have good health benefits." He gestures to the server so that he can order something, himself.
Little Fox: "That's because he didn't take any classes, My Heart," Fox offers wryly in between bites of waffles with bacon and chocolate chips on top. "I need more coffee," she adds, absently swinging one foot underneath the booth seat. Vasha's explanation makes her choke on her bite of waffle, and then laugh.
Daniel Hawthorne: Daniel nodded to the staffer as they brought his order to the table, taking a moment to doctor his coffee as the others spoke. Vasha's description earned a curious look followed by a quiet chuckle. "Sounds interesting, at least..."
Atalo Ceres: "Hgn. Then it is less of a secret society now?" Atalo asks with a twitch of a grin. "I have heard rumours, but know nothing solid. It might be safer for all sides that way. I am often just a humble shop owner." He nods at Mearc, patting his shoulder carefully. "I don't eat the food here. But would anyone like some more?"
Mearcstapa: "Not formal classes. A crash course with a teacher who was smoking and drinking and laughing the whole time at how bad my accent was. But I enjoyed every minute of it." He grins at Fox and Vasha, and then glances at Atalo.
"It's always kind of interesting to me, which of you eat and which don't eat. I mean, I understand why you don't--I've seen how you lot handle 'that which is not food to you guys' firsthand."
Vasily Tometchko: "Ah. My day job is not existing," Vasha explain with equally use to his prior explanation of who he is and what he does. When the server stops by, Vasha orders a carafe of coffee and an egg and bacon breakfast bagel. Time to refuel the meat prison. "Truly?" Vasha lifts his eyebrows at Mearcstapa, impressed. "You must have a gift for languages. I only have three, and one of them is this hellish chimera you speak here in America." He grins back at the vampires with a small shrug, "It pays the bills. What do you do, Daniel?"
Little Fox: Fox is already eating Mearcstapa's food, but orders eggs and more bacon and some toast. "My day job is sleeping," she asserts. "Because... quasi-nocturnal." A vague shrug, and then she takes another big bite of waffles. "I only have three, too. I should learn more. But I'm busy." She puffs out her cheeks thoughtfully, turns her gaze to Daniel.
Daniel Hawthorne: "I tend to save it for special occasions - going out with my sister or work dinners and the like. I've been here often enough that I figure I should try the food at least once." Daniel replied to Mearc, cutting off a bit of his own waffle and taking a bite. After a moment he gave an approving nod, claiming another bite before continuing. "That is good..."
"Clothing design." He answered to Vasha. "I run a studio just off of Rittenhouse Square."
Atalo Ceres: "I hold two." Atalo muses to Vasha. "The second is Greek, which I've managed to hold onto." A nod to Mearc. "I feel we eat when we need to blend in, I've done that often enough myself. But I don't need to conceal my nature here. And I suspect trying would be futile given the understanding most possess."
Mearcstapa: "I've got the Russian, some Hebrew and American Sign Language--which is less of a chimerical mess than English, actually. You might like it better, Vasha. It follows spatial logic and has more consistent grammar. Though if you translate very literally, it can seem rude to English native speakers, because of how direct it is and how blunt Deaf culture can tend to be."
Vasily Tometchko: "Clothing design? Really?" Vasha's interest is piqued. "Do you do bespoke menswear? I run in about three modes. Gopnik with a heroin addiction, $100 suit wearing working man, and 'my suit costs more than your car'. It would be nice having a tailor that can be reasonably trusted to remember me from day to day." What with the occasional bouts of not existing, and all. If that claim is to be believed. "I'd take a card, if so." Vasha ticks his eyebrows again at Mearcstapa's suggestion, "I will keep that in mind. Sounds interesting." A polite smile is flashed at Atalo, "I used to vacation in Greece. Love the islands. The climate. The wine. The women. The men. The slow simmering promise of communist revolution."
Daniel Hawthorne: "I do, yes." Daniel took a slim metal case from his pocket and removed one of the cards within to offer to Vasha. The front gave the main number, website and address for the studio, along with a second number written on the back in impeccable handwriting. "My personal cell is on the back if you want to get a hold of me directly. Text tends to work better, for obvious reasons." Cue a wry smirk here.
Little Fox: Fox sets down their fork and briefly signs, I like sign. I like directness. No shit, Fox, really? She winks aside at Mearcstapa, picks up her fork again. "Mmm. I like you ridiculous clothing," she murmurs aside to Vasha. "Whether it's the tracksuits or the monkey suits."
Mearcstapa: "Anyway. I need to head out and get back to prep on a project I've got." He pulls out cash to cover Vasha's meal and the one he shared with Fox. "I hope you all have a good day."
Atalo Ceres: "I should head back to the shop soon, before Cerberus eats another chair." Atalo muses quietly. "But, would you be happy on that help with the pigeons?" A nod to Fox. "I have some ability to communicate and interact with them, and, Mearcstapa would applaud of me trying to do more outside the shop." A grin at the departing Changeling. "You know where to find me when you need more second hand items."
Daniel Hawthorne: "Good seeing you both." Daniel nodded to Mearc and Atalo as they readied to leave. "Have a good night."
Little Fox: "Take care of yourself, Mearcstapa." A brief touch to his shoulder as he departs, and she wiggles her fingers at him. "Yeah, probably! I tend not to turn down help that's honestly offered." A flash of her sharp little teeth at the departing vampire. "We should talk later." She polishes off the waffles as the rest of her food arrives. It takes a lot food to fuel a dynamo like Fox.
Vasily Tometchko: "Take care, you two. A pleasure meeting you." Vasha watches the pair depart, then turns his focus back to Daniel. The ofered card is accepted, pocketed, and he ends up abandoning his chair to slide into the emptied booth with a satisfied sigh. The abandoned plates and such are stacked up to make room for his meal when it arrives. "Well. That was pleasant. He's a useful fellow to know, that one."
Atalo Ceres: "If you need to find me, I'm often at the thrift store." Atalo offers the address to Fox before nodding and turning to depart, axe fading from view as he makes his way through the portal leading out.
Daniel Hawthorne: "He's been a welcome friend indeed." Daniel nodded to Vasha, taking a sip of his coffee. "We met at Atalo's shop a few months back."
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