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A thin, angular looking woman sprawls lazily in a booth all to herself, wispy bangs perennially falling into her face and getting pushed aside. There's an ambitious stack of breakfast food that has been half-eaten and pushed to the side in favor of the 21st century's greatest distraction: a phone.
Among the bright colors of Maddy's Waffle House, she seems to fade out in an uncanny fashion, maybe the last person who'd get noticed, wearing nondescript clothes that include a heather grey, hooded jacket with the sleeves half pulled up her forearms.
Occasionally the (secret) door opens, and her pale eyes flick up, automatically, unthinkingly, to glance at the latest entrant, but none motivates her to do anything besides occasionally pick at her meal, and keep swiping through her phone.
The portal leading in to Maddy's opens to admit one (1) Fox, today in a humanoid form, at least for the moment. It's even her default form! (But not her final form, assuredly.) Five foot even, long black hair all stringy and hanging around her shoulders, wearing a tank top and jeans and all barefoot despite the fact that it's fucking cold in Philadelphia right now, they pad in with both hands holding on to their backpack straps.
And then? They spot the angular woman in her booth by herself, and merrily trill, "Accipiter!" before pap pap pap over toward her booth like he's been invited.
It was a brand new year, and Morgonlilja had decided to start it off at a place she had only recently discovered: Maddy's Wafflehouse.
The bohemian Thyrsus stepped inside and had a quick look around, white, long dreads, large, bronze hoop earrings, and tattoos visible at the sides of her face. She was dressed in a a thick, knitted hemp sweater and a pair of matching sweatpants, a bright, colourful scarf wrapped around her neck. Brrr.
Her gaze landed on Accipiter and Fox and she raised a hand to wave at them, offering a polite, friendly smile.
A bright voice bounces Accipiter out of her thoughts - and her phone - and she looks up, and her mouth curls just-so at the corner in recognition. "Hey," she intones. She has a low voice, so low it fries at the bottom of the vowel and rumbles softly. The faint smile cracks a little wider when Fox pap-paps towards her booth, and she reorganizes her long body to make space for the admittedly smaller one.
She gives Fox a perfunctory look down and back up, pale blue eyes asking the question that she doesn't with her voice: are you not fucking cold?
"Long time. My fault. Busy time of year," she falls on the lack-of-socializing sword immediately. There is not much room for doubt that she isn't referring to the holidays, but perhaps to some other, looming obligations that have little to do with the time of the year and much more to do with Guardian duties that are best not spoken of in public, or at all.
When another body moves into the room, Accipiter raises a hand in a half-wave. She just assumes it's another friend of Fox's, and beckons Morgonlilja closer with the same hand, gesturing at the booth.(edited)
It's not terribly long after Fox's arrival that Johnnie steps through the doors. There's a visible transformation as she shuts tight the portal into the supernatural Safe Space- she seems to... unfold a little, as if shedding an entire front at once. She seems to be uncramping her entire person all at once, even as her expression shifts from a... passable facsimile of standard mortal concerns to the perfectly placid lake that has become Johnnie's default expression. She turns, the movement dripping in inhuman elegance as she takes in the room and catches- well, one familiar face, and others she's still processing as familiar/not. Leaning towards the latter, given the lack of immediate recognition.
Politely, the too-sleek, scarred-up Torrent waves at the growing collection of mages, eyes twinkling in the shadows beneath her bangs.
Also, screw winter, there's autumn leaves all over the floor now. Weird!
"Nope, I am not cold!" Fox tells Accipiter in response to the question she didn't ask out loud. "I was being a raccoon for a while, and they have lots of fur, and anyway when I shifted back I just moved my blood flow and messed with the radiant light so it kept me warm enough. Even if I hadn't, you know, being cold is an experience. I've had it, though, so it isn't new."
"It's okay, I forgive you, you can buy me waffles and we're all square for you missing all of the adventures for a while." She slides into the booth right next to the Guardian like they're besties, and unhooks her backpack from her shoulders, sliding it underneath the table as she pulls her feet up underneath herself. The unknown blonde gets a long, blinking look and a polite wave. "Hi!" Then Vorpal comes into view, and Fox grins. Her teeth are far too sharp for a normal human's, little vulpine things. "Jackie, hi hi!"
Morgonlilja cants her head to side, her brown eyes glittering with curiosity as she watches the pair in the booth for a moment, then decides to join them at Accipiter's invitation. She is perhaps halfway through the train car when a small corvid-spirit hops in through the one of the walls, beady, black eyes and long beak slightly ajar, the familiar invisible except to those that perceive Twilight. The storm spirit flaps its wings and sweeps through the room, perching itself atop one of the seats in the back.
"Hi, hi. Mind if I join you?" The Shaman speaks with a noticable accent, a sort of rising intonation on the final syllable. She beams a wide smile at them, rubbing her hands together. "Fuck, it is cold. I do not like these winters."(edited)
Another face - this one familiar, and Accipiter smiles again, a little thinner as her mind searches for a name that she can't quite place until Fox bubbles it aloud. "I knew I recognized you," she chirps in her low, soft voice at Vorpal. Though Accipiter is blind to the little corvid that accompanies Morgonlilja, when the question is put to her, she only smiles, and gestures at the booth again. "Hi," she replies. "I don't think we've met." It's a politeness; she knows they haven't. "I'm Ever."
She slides her attention back to Fox, and raises her shoulders in an acquiescing shrug. "Fair terms," she decides, nudging the lone laminated menu on the table towards Fox.(edited)
Vasha doesn't appear the way most people do here at Maddy's. Rather than simply arriving in a poof of magic, he appears quite of a sudden in most people's perceptions a short bit after the portal did its magic poofing. Traveling unperceived is the best way to travel, after all.
He's dressed in a gold track suit with white running stripes, the Ukrainian flag's colors striping across his chest and shoulders, and has a big pair of Ray Bans on his face besides. He looks fit to sell drugs to a used car salesman, it's like that. He aims for the table where Fox, and most everyone else, is congregated.
The brilliant response Jackie gets from Fox coaxes that placid expression into a quiet smile, and to have Ever add her own pleased response to her arrival? That's all just kindling on the ego bonfire. She actually holds onto that little grin.
"Hello, Mistrix Fox; and well met, Ever." She looks to the Shaman to boot, chuckling faintly. "I can't argue that. I was much better pleased with last season." By way of introduction, to Ever proper and Morgonlilja by inclusion, she offers, "Jackie, as was said. Or Vorpal. I answer to both as readily. And if you hear a tiny redhead or a -very- handsomely butch androgyne calling someone Johnnie, that's probably also me- and very much reserved to them," she explains calmly. "It's a pleasure, I'm sure." She melts to the side, pivoting out of Vasha's way as he approaches, with a tip of her head in greeting, that same calm smile on her face.
Oh, sorry, was something else going on? Once Vasha appears in her frame of reference, little else matters. The little Thyrsus -- wearing a tank top, ratty jeans, and no shoes, because Fox must dress in the most absurd clothing at all times, apparently -- squeals when she perceives the lanky Acanthus and launches herself up out of her seat, flinging herself bodily at Vasha.
Incoming!
Never mind, that is what Johnnie melts out of the way of.
"I am Morgonlilja." It usually took people a few tries to repeat her name in a way that didn't completely mangle it. "Or Cecilia, whichever you would prefer. A pleasure to meet you, Ever. And you, Jackie."
Morgonlilja steps a bit to the side as Fox rises from her seat, glancing over to the man that had just arrived. She gives him a quick look, offers a wave and a smile, then scoots into the booth and claims a seat of her own. "I am famished. I was up almost all night celebrating the New Year, barely managed to catch two hours of sleep. Happy New Year to everyone, by the way."
A small shuffling takes place as more bodies move into the booth where the brooding and perennially solitary Guardian had started her meal, continuing the long saga of Introvert Who Can't Help But Make Friends. A faint oof accompanies the suddenness of Fox flinging herself bodily at Vasha, and Accipiter smiles almost apologetically to Vorpal and Morgonlilja. "Morgonlilja," she tests it on her tongue. "Cheers," she manages, melting back into her spot once Fox has flown/leapt/sailed out of the booth.
Vasha catches the projectile Fox with practiced ease, and deposits her on his hip as though she were a giant baby rather than a fully grown adult person. She even gets a company-polite smooch on the corner of her mouth, "Hello, Krasnaya." He carries her right back over to the table, however. So all of that getting out of the way needs to happen again so she can reclaim her seat.
"Hello, people I know. Hello, people I do not know. May I sit and eat waffles?"
Swerving elegantly away from the rocket racoon leaves Vorpal standing just a touch to the side, breaking down the name as spoken. "Mor-gon-lil-ja." When she recites it, it's not just -close-, it's -perfect- - not so much correctly pronounced as a right proper mimic of Cecilia's version of its pronunciation. "And that just means you were celebrating properly," Jackie asserts as Cecilia explains her lack of sleep. "And Happy New Year to you, as well." A glance, then, to Vasha, and a gesture towards the table. "I certainly don't mind, but I'm not technically at the table yet myself, so take that as you will."
She catches that apologetic smile and shares a subtle on of her own. It's fine, that smile says. I've seen that before. And she has, though admittedly it wasn't Fox who was playing the part of the leaping lover the other time.
Being very small, it's quite easy to hold Fox on his hip, and she seems perfectly content to be so situated; her backpack is tucked under the table, and she kisses Vasha at the corner of his mouth before resting her head on his shoulder. "Hello, My Heart." Her arms loop lazily around his neck. "Hello, Morgonlilja," she answers, and it's pretty close, her mouth folding around the syllables like someone who speaks multiple languages.
"Happy New Year," she replies. "You can call me Fox. Everyone does." And then she's deposited back in her seat, informing Vasha, "Ever is buying me waffles to be sorry for being gone for so long. Maybe she will also buy you and your track suit some waffles. Come sit with us."
Morgonlilja drums her fingertips idly against the edge of the table, watching Fox's return, carried back over by Vasha. The edges of her lips curve into a hint of a smile, but her eyes, now her eyes, they practically sparkle with amusement and approval. "Nice to meet you, Fox. And you." A small nod at Vasha. "I am Morgonlilja. But you can call me Cecilia, almost everyone does."
Now that introductions had been made, she turns her attention to Jackie, arching a slender eyebrow at the woman. "You said that just perfect. I am impressed." She flashed a grin, then looked around for a menu. Time for some waffles.
"Right, happy New Year," Accipiter buzzes in that chronically low voice, an afterthought. "And I am buying everyone waffles, please, grab a menu. I've been anti-social for too long, too long even for me. It's nice to see some familiar faces. And new ones."
She turns a curious eye on Morgonlilja. "Pardon me for asking; are you new to Philadelphia? I have just not ever seen you before."
Vasha dislodges Fox from his side and deposits her into her chair like so, then drops into a seat himself. Invitations are taken at face value, it seems. As is Accipiter's money. "Excellent. I will eat well, then." There's enough of a quirk to his lips to suggest that might have been a joke at River's expense. He keeps his sunglasses on as he begins to peruse the menu. "I answer to Vasha. Many people call me 'hey, asshole'. I have other, more tedious introductions I might make, but this is hardly the place for it." Oh, Guardians. He then asides back to Accipiter, "Thank you for food."
"Don't be too impressed. Fox's pronunciation is definitely the more authentic- she understands how words are managed in other languages. I'm just parroting back the word." Vorpal explained easily, lest Fox's legitimate talents go unrecognized. She does crack her mask, just a touch, when River states she'll be buying everyone food. It's momentary, and passes with little more than an involuntary twitch, but she shakes her head. "No, thank you but no thank you. I don't make a habit of- imposing on the generosity of others."
"Oh, but the tedious, alternate introductions tend to be the most enlightening, if one can remain conscious throughout," Jackie faux-whines. "But I'll not contest your assessment of their appropriateness. Perhaps another time. I'm Jackie, if you didn't catch my earlier intro. Vorpal works as well, I answer either way." She remains standing, apparently quite comfortable doing so, and glances to Morgonlilja when she's asked if she's new to the city. She's curious!
"Yeah. I arrived in Pennsylvania two months ago or so. I was in Arizona before that. Oregon. I've been zigzagging all over the states. Before that, I was backpacking through Southeast Asia." Morgonilja draws up her shoulders in a light shrug, reaching for a menu, a bit unnecessarily, as she already had decided what she was going to order.
"I want waffles, for sure," she says, then focuses her eyes on Acciper again. "I think I will be staying here for a while. Get a read of the lands. They are so old, much older than the cities that were built here. Just imagine what the stones and the rivers might tell us. And the trees." The tree. "I am excited to be here."(edited)
"You are welcome for food," Accipiter replies to her fellow Guardian with an indulgent wink before she turns her pale eyes back on Morgonlilja. "Welcome to Philly, then. I think manners dictate I should buy you waffles, too," she quips congenially. She cants her head vaguely to the side and flickers her attention over to Vasha and Fox and Vorpal before going back to Morgonlilja. "Did you come here on purpose?" She blinks at her own question. "That is to say, was there something particular that brought you here?"
Vasha falls quiet after flagging down a server and placing his order. Nothing fancy. Waffles, bacon, hash browns, toast, and coffee. Once his menu is back and place and the server is off, he settles in comfortably, doctors his coffee to his taste, and observes the interplay between the younger Guardian at the table and the newcomer he does not know. He does shoot a slight smile to Jackie at the joke, "That's why it's inappropriate. Pleasure to meet you."
"Quite a traveler," Jackie remarks as Cecilia describes her adventures. "I've been not nearly so well travelled in these parts. In others... well. That's different." She leaves it at that.
"That's the worst," she states, as the talk of the trees and stones and rivers becomes the topic. "I feel like you're right, and I could tell what they're saying if I but knew how to listen. Or- no. The worst is that I think once, I did know how."
Getting the joke properly leaves her smiling a little again, clearly pleased with herself. "The pleasure, Vasha, is mine."
Tiramisu waffles, turkey bacon, a carafe of coffee, toast -- lots of toast -- apparently it takes a lot of calories to keep the tiny dynamo of Fox running. Once the coffee arrives, it meets a lot of cream and sugar to make it to Fox's taste, but then she settles with her grubby little hands curled around the cup. "I met Jackie when I was doing an exploration in Kensington as my other primary self," she explains to Vasha. "She made me a burger backwards in time, and she didn't let me buy her dolmas." Her green-gold eyes glitter sharply, and she turns her attention on Cecilia at Ever's questions, watching curiously over the rim of her heavy diner mug.
"I heard rumours about the martyr." Another small smile emerges on Morgonlilja's lips. "I suppose that's the thing that brought me here. The history, the people, and the atmosphere is what made me decide to stay. Philadelphia seems like an interesting place to be."
"What about you? Were you all born and bred here?" The question was aimed at all of them, and her gaze starts wandering, moving around the small group at the table, stopping briefly at Vasha. He was probably not from Philadelphia. But then again, perhaps he was.
She shakes her head slightly from side to side. Time to order: Belgian waffles, with chocolate, and cream, and strawberry jam. This was a waffle house, and where she was from, waffles were sweet foods.
Accipiter bobs her chin in an understanding nod, and then lifts her eyebrows at the question.
"Oh, I think you're bound to get some interesting answers on that point..." Accipiter trails off, glancing around the table at the motley collection of Not-From-Heres. "I grew up in Qatar, but I was born in Sacramento. California," she adds, possibly unnecessarily, but it's always a bit twitchy to expect people know any cities in Cali outside of San Francisco and Los Angeles.
"I was born in Odessa, in what is now Ukraine and what was then the Soviet Union. Red Army, KGB, then FSB. Then a volunteer battalion in Donetsk. I was... uh. A captain. Infantry captain. Had a company. So I get around. Soviet Union, Afghanistan, Cuba, Vietnam, China... most of Europe. Much of Africa. South America. Now the United States." Vasha glances about his surroundings, as though taking them in for the first time, even lowering his shades a bit as he does so. "Not bad for land of capitalist pigs, eh?" Then he's squinting over at Accipiter, "The lobsters came down from the mountains. Qatar? Where? Doha?"
"Waste not, want not," is Jackie's entire explanation for how she managed to UnMake (or UnEat, more likely) a burger for foxy Fox. "And no. I'm from Manhattan and grew up Very Far Away From Here. May you never know the place. But. I have made Philly my home for a few years now. I'll bleed for her. If I need to." Her tone implies others will be.made to bleed first, though.
"I was born in the lobby of Temple University Hospital," Fox answers blithely, "And have never been where I was supposed to be since." Her food arrives, and she grabs a fork, digging into the obscenely sweet pile of chocolate, waffles and whipped cream which is the tiramisu waffles. "But I lived many places over the years. I just came home, and my family followed after." Leaning over, she places one messy kiss on Vasha's cheek. "Speaking of, remind me later, I made something for you," she tells the gold-cloth-glad Acanthus.
"Amein," she offers aside to Vorpal, as though she's just finished a bracha rather than making a statement vis a vis protecting her city.
Accipiter gives Vasha an approving and affirming nod, visibly-if-faintly pleased at the recognition. "Nem," and she seems to say this foreign word as if it means 'Yes' so it likely does. "On the southside, not far from Al Udeid. The air base." Once the where's have spilled out for Morgonlilja's benefit, the pale-eyed Guardian gives their newcomer friend a frank but friendly look that seems to say I told you so.
"Air Force brat?" Vasha inquires, still squinting at the other Guardian. It's as though he's testing his own deductive capabilities with an understanding participant in such games. "Not many pale faces in Qatar outside of Doha. And not much reason to be a pale face near Al Udeid unless you're serving, or family of one serving." Vasha then second-guesses himself, "Child of someone in the state department, maybe." He leans back a bit and folds up his arms, tapping his cheek thoughtfully.
Morgonlilja listens attentively to each person in turn, a look of focus on her face, occasionally bobbing her head in a nod. "I have been travelling ever since I graduated high school. Seeing new places, meeting new people, learning new things, this is how I grow, and how I become wiser. Every person I meet is just a fount experiences and thoughts and beliefs."
Another grin, and then she leans back in her seat, stabbing a fork into her waffle and starting to eat.
Johnnie smiles a little wider with Fox's little chime-in of approval, absorbing all those little tidbits, wearing them into her view of each. Fox's line about wrong place, all time makes her laugh briefly, though!
Accipiter's admittedly pale-face features brook into another grin, amused and indulgent while Vasha flexes his Sherlock muscles. "Guilty as charged. My mother. We bounced around a lot," she gestures at Morgonlilja at this affinity, "But ended up staying in Qatar the longest after she was promoted to full-bird Colonel." She raise her shoulders in an absent shrug. "It wasn't so bad," she appends in the way that people always do when it certainly could have been better. "I like the weather here better."
"We have actual seasons." Fox is busy eating, watching Vasha do his sleuthing, and the conversation in general as it ebbs and flows. "I like snow, but not as much snow as there was in Saint Petersburg."
His eyebrows lift in appreciation of Accipiter's mothers rank. He's an old head and never crested a captaincy, so he's rightly impressed. Even if it was only in the Air Force. "Similar lives, maybe. You and me. My father was a big shot in the Party, and in the Red Army. I didn't really have a choice in serving. I mean. I did. But. I didn't. Not in any way that mattered." Vasha then proceeds to skip a lot of years, stories, and suffering by disagreeing with Fox. "And I would welcome a winter of blizzards to see the river again." He rubs a hand under his nose and reaches for his coffee instead, mumbling to himself in Ukrainian.
"I love snow, but I hate slosh. I had too many winters growing up when snow would fall in the afternoon and start melting by next noon." Weather. A comfortable topic. "Fields of snow, frozen lakes, and icicles dangling from overhangs. Those are the winters I miss."
Morgonlilja had no real experience or understanding of the military, or the ranks of the military but she listened with a keen interest, smiling amiably at Vasha. Existence is War, after all. "It's a wondrous thing. So many people, from such different places, all coming together. Chance is an intriguing thing." She winks at her companions, shoving another piece of chocolate-drenched waffle into her mouth.
She inclines her head at Vasha's summary, catching her lip underneath her teeth in a moment of contemplation before moving back to the much-easier topic of the weather. "I am by no means accustomed to winter, but I certainly prefer it to the homegrown alternative. A hundred and ten degrees, for weeks, for months, running from shade to shade, feet burning through the soles of your shoes from the sand and pavement." Accipiter grimaces at the sizzling nostalgia of it, showing her teeth. "No." A very decisive 'no' at that. "No, thank you, never again, please, and if the cost of that is slosh, I'll pay it."
When Vasha starts muttering, Fox leans aside and rests her head on his shoulder. "Well, that's fair. The river, snow, and a bag of pelmeni." After a moment leaning her head on said shoulder, she sits back up and shoves turkey bacon into her face, giving Vasha a winsome smile. "I think I'd rather snow than heat, it's true. You can only take off so many clothes."
"I mean I don't mind taking all of them off, but then you get to a point where you want to take off your skin, and that's not really ... possible. Mostly."
Johnnie does a bit of a head bobble that says her head's where Fox's is, mostly. Very much a "Welllllllllllllllll..." moment.
Morgonlilja is halfway through her meal when her phone beeps. She groans quietly, sending off a response to the text, then starts easing herself out of the booth. "It was nice meeting you all, but I have to be on my way."
She smiles appreciatively at Accipiter and nods at the woman. "Thank you for the waffles. I'll pay next time." The spirit-corvid that had been lurking just a few tables over stirred when the Shaman started moving, her Twilight rook gliding through the diner to settle on her shoulder.
"It was nice meeting you all," Morgonlilja says, wrapping her scarf around her neck again, warding against the cold of January winter. "Take care."
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