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Mm, fresh coffee. Michael loves that. With doughnuts and other sweet things. It's what a fox needs to get him through the day. And it also helps make suitable offerings to one's partner. Humming, he reclines in his chair, having sorted two coffees and a good number of doughnuts and biscuits for sampling.
Chelle is not a morning person. And normally, from what she knows, neither is Michael. She eyes the fox Lost across the table from her as she sips the nectar of wakefulness.
Mearc walks in, looking a little tired and run down, his LED-bright freckles a hair dimmer than their usual glow. It was a late night last night, and he's, well...speepy. He has a laptop bag over one shoulder as well as his usual brown everyday-carry bag, and cargo pants as usual.
"I know, I know." He smiles ruefully, hair tousled. "It's unnatural to be up this early around. I'll try making it up to you later? I just had to get a smidgen of research done, and everyone's like, 'oh Michael, you've gotta get some more hours clocked', and all that." A huff. As Mearc enters he smiles and waves his way with a gloved hand, trying to catch the other Lost's attention. "Hey! Morning!" Subtle, Michael is not.
Chelle mumbles something impolitic before waving tiredly at Mearc. Then she curls up, shoes and all, on her seat, sipping from the coffee greedily despite the stuff's heat.
He flinches slightly at the loud exclamation. "Let me fortify with caffeine, and I'll come right over."
A nod and smile before he turns back to Chelle, pushing the plate of food her way in a hopeful peace offering.
"You're buying me another coffee," she says, more clearly, before snagging a sour cream glazed doughnut and biting into it rather fiercely.
Once his coffee and a breakfast sandwich are in hand, Mearc approaches the adorable couple. "Ahoy."
"My dear. I would buy you all the coffees." He tells her, then winces. "Well, maybe not -all-.. you'd be rather hyper if that happened, but a fair num... yes, I'll buy you another." He smiles, ruffling at her hair before nodding to Mearc. "How's your day?"
"Mearc," Chelle says, still glancing warily at the too-perky fox she's slightly regretting dating. Only slightly! But the regret is evident on her face this morning. "How are you today?" She drinks deeply of her coffee. Not even a caramel macchiato. Just straight up coffee with a splash of cream.
"I'm fine. Allowed myself to be dragged out of my cave for karaoke last night, and I'm regretting it now, but otherwise, all is well."
His ears lower with a quiet wince at Chelle's look, managing to fall a bit more quiet. "Karaoke isn't worth it unless you're at least a little embarrassed." He chips in quietly.
Chelle reaches over and pats Michael's hand. She's not mad, just tired, and cranky about it. She still loves him, and shows him that with the look in her eyes. "Karaoke? Damn, I missed it again." She finishes her doughnut and then her coffee. "Michael, I've got this round, love. Do you want anything?" Trying to make it up to him. She hates making him feel bad, it's obvious.
It's always awkward being around two people who are so very much obviously deeply in love. Mearc's neon freckles shade from a roughly even mix of red and green to a bit more visibly red, as he pulls out his laptop.
"Hot chocolate?" He asks hopefully, squeezing Chelle's hand. "I might be best not going too far on the coffee side this time around." A rueful smile and nod as he beams at her. Mearc gets a slightly apologetic look. "So, ah. Whatcha working on there?"
Chelle nods and looks at Mearc, sees he's just gotten his own stuff, and smiles at the freckley Lost, before squeezing Michael's hand and going off to get drinks for herself and Michael.
"A little background research for an upcoming event at the Museum of Art. Some kind of fashion show?"
"Oooh." Michael beams, nodding keenly. "Yes. Lux Obscura. I'm hoping to be able to cover it myself. Do think the money might be better for the public school system, but, hoping it'll still do good. But, ah, you're looking into it?" He speaks a little more quietly. "Security checking?"
"Exactly so. Figuring out possible points of failure--given the controversy over the money going to charter schools, someone might decide it's a place to make a statement." Mearc nods, slurping at his coffee. "Or use it as a distraction to steal something from the museum. Or target a prominent guest or model. Or throw paint on a fur to make a statement about animal cruelty. Or..."
He trails off, shrugging. "Or."
He frowns, ears twitching. "..I couldn't do that." He admits. "Not knowing where an attack could come from, so many angles to watch. I'd make myself a nervous wreck trying. I think my job's more straightforward, chat to people, get different points of view, showcase what's going on and get a report typed up, that I hope people enjoy reading."
Chelle comes back, setting Michael's hot chocolate--large, very large, with whipped cream--in front of him, and sitting in her seat again, across from him and next to Mearc. "I'm just a singer. I go places, and I'm seen going places." She sounds tired. "I wish my job had a bit more substance, sometimes."
"Singers can make a statement with their music. Or wield their influence over an audience. And if you don't like it...why not try to do more?"
He turns to Chelle, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Singing inspires people, makes them happy. What do you matters." He smiles softly at her, taking a careful sip of his cocoa. "And as Mearc says, you've options, if you want to explore them. You've the gifts and talents to do that."
Chelle considers in a way she hadn't realized she could do. "I... need to do some thinking." She snags a pastry, a chocolate croissant, from the plate of the delicacies, and nibbles thoughtfully.
"Compare to something like Lux's street art. They're always working to spread a message, usually a real positive one for people."
He smiles, nodding thoughtfully. "Maybe I should do something similar.." He ponders. "I don't have a -huge- reading audience, but I could try presenting more beneficial options and ideas to them. It's kinda why I wanted to cover a charity event. I need to think on it too."
Chelle sips her coffee--this time, it's actually her usual drink instead of straight-up caffeinated stuff--and looks at Mearc. "I mean," she begins. "I'm a jazz singer. That's pretty staid by today's standards, but the people who wrote and sang that stuff were pretty radical in the day." She's thinking. The wheels are churning a little slowly, but she's definitely thinking it over.
"You're both Springs. You can gather and wield social power in a way most of the Freehold won't think to. Keeping a finger on the pulse of mundane society and nudging it as needed, that's a part of how you help keep us all safe." His voice is a low whisper, a bit of a mixed expression on his face.
"I.." He glances at Chelle, chewing his lip in thought. "We could, maybe? Possibly? What if we promoted the right event to draw attention? You through singing, me through trying to cover it? Helping to prop up something good, make sure people see it?" He's very much thinking himself now, glancing at Mearc as suggestions are offered.
Chelle nods, very slow. "Might be good," the redhead says to the fox. "Might be very good."
Mearc lets out a soft not-quite-laugh. "This...is actually a new idea to you two? Who failed to tell you of the power you already possess? Someone did you wrong by not pointing all of this out sooner."
"..Let's.. mm. Maybe get past the fashion show first, do what can be done there, and then plan a next move?" He's smiling like a loon now, excited by the ideas as his tail fluffs up. A glance to Mearc, a slight nod. "I'm.. kinda a mess, I admit. I need someone to nudge me the right way every so often."
Chelle laughs a bit. "We're... not even new at this." She shakes her head. "There's no real excuse, here." She looks embarrassed, then nods at Michael. "Same." She drinks from her coffee to hide her blush.
"Remind me sometime to tell you stories of the last Freehold I lived in, and how some of the Springs there operated. It was a damned impressive thing to watch sometimes." He returns his attention to his sandwich.
"Stories are good." He smiles at Mearc, reaching out to squeeze Chelle's hand. "They give inspiration, ideas. I'm hoping we can write some new ones. And, advice is always good. Thanks Mearc." A warm smile.
Chelle looks at Mearc. "Please," she murmurs. "I'll... I'll embroider something for you, or owe you a favor, or something. I really am curious." She squeezes Michael's hand in return.
"There was a chatalaine who worked at the Daley center in administration. She used to catch gossip from all over the city, just by being friendly, obliging and a good listener. This meant that things coming down the pipeline weren't a surprise; changes to the police force, major events. Parties, of course, and she was good at securing invitations for people to them. She rarely worked directly to use her influence, instead trusting others to act directly within their spheres of influence with the knowledge she armed them with." He chuckles. "I hope she's still alright; I should text her sometime."
"I.. that's my own nature." He admits to them both, quietly, softly. "And, mm, the same. I'll make you something if you like, a thank you. And, this big fashion show coming up." A slow nod. "I can do that. Gather, understand talk, gossip, there'll be people there with lots of power and knowledge." He hums. "Always good to catch up with old friends." He smiles at Mearc. "You know, you're pretty damn wise."
Chelle nods at Michael. "You do that, and I'll.. do my best to influence," she murmurs, before agreeing with him about Mearc. "You're cool," she agrees.
He inclines his head to accept the compliment, freckles shifting red again. "Thank you both. I'm glad to help."
"We're grateful. But we'll stop embarrassing you now." Chelle smiles and sips her coffee. "Do you have any hobbies?"
"Beyond work and running my YouTube channel, not particularly. Some online gaming stuff, but I'm certain you'd find it boring and silly." He scratches the back of his head.
Chelle shakes her head and grins. "I know Glitch," she says with a smile. "And I've played some Bloodstained, which isn't online gaming but is still pretty tough. I do love metroidvanias, though."
"There's an indie game I've gotten pretty good with, called SpyParty. It's a two-player asymmetric puzzle game, where one person is playing a spy at a party, trying to complete missions like swapping a statuette or moving a microfilm from one bookcase to another. The other player is the sniper, watching the party to figure out which character on the screen isn't controlled by an AI. It's pretty cerebral, and the competitive scene is slowly growing."
"That sounds fascinating." Chelle considers Mearc. "Would you teach me to play sometime?"
Michael/Laura (Him/Her)Yesterday at 4:34 PM
"I've bumped into Glitch.. er, once, I think." He nods. "And it could be worth chatting to Arthur too. He's pretty cool, and he likes gaming as well." A smile.
"If you'd like, yes." He nods. "Though it's actually a better experience for two new players to learn against one another, at least to begin with, because the different levels of knowledge about the game..." And Michael's comment side-tracks him completely. "Arthur is a gamer?"
"I haven't met Arthur, I don't think. He sounds like he's worth meeting." Chelle smiles, and sips from her sugary beverage. Then she looks at Mearc. "Oh, neat, okay."
"I think so." Michael nods. "Chatted to him and talking about games seems something he enjoys." He smiles widely. "He and Glitch seemed to get on pretty well. And that spy game by the way? Seems pretty cool."
"It's a good challenge. I, uh. Have a competitive streak in me; it's part of why red-team security exercises are my favorite."
Chelle nods at Mearcstapa. "Sounds like." She smiles. "I prefer solo gaming, but I am awfully social, too. I don't know."
"Cooperative games are a thing too, right? I know there's a -lot- of board games out there. Too many to keep track of, in fact." He ponders. "Maybe we should do a big social thing for us all."
"Or just set up a Dungeons and Dragons group."
Chelle tilts her head. "I've never played Dungeons and Dragons. But it sounds triggery to so many."
"Mm.." He rubs his mouth. "One of those Roleplaying things, right? I don't really know it either."
A thoughtful pause. "Right, for the same reason I can't touch Shadowrun or Paranoia comfortably."
The fox nods lightly. "I'll tread carefully. Some might enjoy it, but.. mm." He muses. "I'll weave out the board gaming idea first, combine that with a drinking meet up and I think it should garner some interest."
"Well. I'd probably be in, so text me if you make it happen. Michelle has my number."
"Yes." He nods brightly. "That should be good times. And, thank you again for the advice." Michael considers Mearc. "Is there anything you might be wanting for yourself, something one or both of us could help with? That's part of our role, after all."
Chelle nods her agreement with both of them. "I'd love to do a board game night." And then she looks to Mearc, waiting for his reply to Michael's question.
Mearc takes a moment to consider the question. "Not really. Not right now, anyway."
Michael nods. "If that changes, feel free to let one of us know." He smiles. "You've given us something to move on, so, it'll be good to return that." He turns to Chelle, leaning to kiss her forehead. "I need to be moving hon, but, will sort you that coffee. What kind are you feeling?" A nod to Mearc. "Do you want another drink too?"
"I'm good, thanks. And probably should go do work-like things."
"Oh. Caramel macchiato, please, love," she says, smiling up to Michael. "Have a good afternoon." And she kisses him softly, chastely. "I'll go read in a bit. Have a good one, Mearc, too."
He nods with a warm smile to them both, standing to head for the counter and sort the order before slipping out.
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