You step onto a cracked but clean tile floor that was probably once red, but is now a faded salmon pink. A large, rectangular communal table seating about 10 takes up the middle of the floor, with mismatched smaller tables arranged near the large front windows. The long counter in front of the kitchen door sports plates of fragrant bread, cookies, and muffins and bowls of fresh wild fruits. A small, rattling fridge in the corner holds a selection of juices and cold spring water in reused bottles and jars. Atop the refrigerator is a can for cash donations; next to it is a box for barter payments. Scrawled on the box in black marker are the words "Pay what you can, when you can."
Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt is tucked into them at the waist; the collar of it's left mostly unlaced, the ends of the cord hanging down. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops.
This young man has a definite Native American cast to his features. Black, sharply defined eyebrows and high cheekbones frame eyes the brown-black color of richly brewed coffee. A prominent, straight nose set above expressive lips complete his dark-skinned face. Those lips quirk easily into a smile of one variety or another, though the expressions tend not to linger. Deep, dark brown eyes regard the world around him with mixed curiosity and wariness. He's also frequently brushing his thick black hair out of his eyes. It's straight, from those Native American genes, and is just long enough to get in the way without being long enough to tie back. At the moment his hair is loose around his shoulders.
He's not especially tall, about five and a half feet, but with the way he carries himself, he doesn't give the impression of being short. His build is the wiry one of youth, and that of someone who is in shape from exercise that comes from doing physical work. He is lean and muscular, his chest broader than might be expected, his waist and hips narrow, and he moves with deceptively languid grace.
Bryce is dressed in an assortment of borrowed clothes. A cream-colored, long-sleeved cotton shirt billows about his chest and arms, and has the baggy sleeves rolled up many times so his hands and wrists are free. Brown woven wool pants are heavily belted around his waist, and the cuffs are similarly rolled many times to allow his feet access to the ground. His sturdy brown leather boots seems to be the only things he's wearing that actually fit him, and he wears them comfortably. A long vest of the same material as the pants helps keep him warm and has a few pockets.
Danny is a man of average height, standing a little under six feet tall and moving with an odd grace that's difficult to categorize. It's not quite the artful manner of a dancer nor the economic movements of a trained warrior, still there's certainly something different in how he carries himself. Fit musculature on a lean frame gives him the look of a runner, and his clean and smooth features suggest a northern European heritage. He has well-defined cheekbones that lend a youthful cast which may belie his true age, while a losing battle with a five-o'clock shadow makes his otherwise friendly smile a little disreputable. His eyes are expressive and match colors with his wavy, full, chin-length hair: a deep dark brown that's only just this side of black. His arms and face have been tanned by long days in the sun, but an exposed portion of his collar line indicates he'd be far more pale if he spent some time indoors.
His clothing is casual but work-oriented, with a long-sleeved, button-up, heavy flannel-cotton shirt in dark grey protecting him from the cold weather. A loose pair of dark brown, suede-leather pants are tucked into calf-high, black leather boots which have some exposed seams but are still holding together. A stamped silver coin bearing the triune horse symbol of Epona hangs around his neck on a silver snake chain.
This is Julen. She's in her late 50s, it seems, and looks to be someone who's spent that life well and happily, with lines creasing her face, and laugh lines crinkled about her eyes. Her hair is dark, with considerable amounts of salt mixed in, and it's short. Her eyes are grey-green, and her face is handsome, not pretty. She's a little too stubborn and square faced for most people to call her that. She's not thin, but she's also not stout, and when she lifts things, her muscles show in the strain. She's about 5'9", and limps when she gets tired.
She's a woman who commands, if not attention, at least the eye. She's not excessively tall, although she occasionally appears to be so, nor is she excessively riveting, but there's something about her, a strange grace to strong hands, an odd light in her eyes. There's an energy in her step and a purpose to her movements, certainly, and somehow, she just draws the eye even when she's not trying to.
She wears rough linen pants, dyed dark blue, and a softly multicolored fine linen shirt. Sandals are on her feet, and she tends to carry a staff around, mostly for hiking places with.
This is a man, human to the core. No strange blood runs in his veins, but there is an air of power about him nonetheless, arcane knowledge on a tight leash. Physically, he is a perfectly average height with a broad and stocky frame that is not fat but is made to carry a lot of it. He's probably from a variety of European stock; his face is open and gentle, his nose just large enough to be interesting. He wears a short, neat beard, trimmed close, and gold-wire-rimmed spectacles with expensively slim lenses. Behind the specs, his eyes are a light, tawny brown, almost golden. His hands are a scholar's: large and dexterous, inkstained, callused where his pen rests on his right ring finger. Callused in new places, lately, from rougher work than turning pages. His hair is dark, somewhere between auburn and brown, and almost excessively thick and shiny. It's very long, ending about waist-length, and usually worn in a glossy braid. The color is broken by a thick streak of startling, pure-white hair that starts above his left temple. So much white in his hair makes him look older than he might otherwise seem--mid thirties, as opposed to late twenties.
He wears jeans, a white shirt under a dark grey sweater, and leather lace-up boots of a rusty color. In the cold of the late year he often wears a heather-gray woolen cloak, as well. Always within reach, if not actually in hand, is a wooden staff as tall as he is.
A woman with light brown skin, curly rotini hair in shades of red and black, and broad, sturdy features. She has the long-limbed, lean look of someone who is often afoot and on the road. Her attire shows it as well-- thick-soled boots, dark hemp pants, a battered leather coat over a long-sleeved, tawny shirt that almost covers the scars that loop and twine about her wrists. Her pack is a jumble of buckles and straps, the pistol at her side a timeworn relic. There are crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, though she couldn't be more than twenty-some-odd years old.
Unruly black hair, long enough to nearly reach the girl's waist, falls in tangles around a gypsy's face. Both the shade of the girl's skin and the cast of her features speak of a Mediterranean heritage: her nose is a little long, her cheekbones high, her complexion a mild olivine tan. Her eyes are not dark, but a peculiar shade of hazel-green. She is of a middling height for a woman, perhaps five and a half feet, lithe and lean, all whipcord muscle with barely an ounce of softness.
She wears a simple tunic of undyed, soft-tanned deerskin: a single hide with a hole in the center for the neck, belted at the waist with some sort of woven fiber; it hangs in a ragged, uneven fall that barely covers her thighs.
Serendipity is at the kitchen table, lounging in a chair with his feet up on the very corner of the tabletop, ankles crossed, and a plate of leftover pasta in his lap. His eyes are closed, head tilted back -- he could almost be sleeping, except that he's humming something cheerful to himself and looking altogether too pleased with the world.
The front door bangs open loudly and Bryce comes skittering inside, a look of gleeful panic on his face. The Diner proves to not offer the sanctuary he was looking for, however, as a couple of snowballs pelt into his back, exploding messily. He gives an anguished cry and falls to the ground dramatically.
Danny steps up to the Diner's door, panting slightly and holding a last snowball. "Can't outrun the runner," he says to Bryce's fallen form. He tosses the snowball aside and steps over the young man's form, looking triumphant.
Justin appears half a second behind Danny, panting a little harder but grinning widely. "You've escaped this time, but we'll be waiting," he says to Bryce.
Evidently, in all this scrum, Julen came in the back door. She's currently leaning against the counter, staff in hand, smiling faintly.
Serendipity's eyes snap open, instantly alert at Bryce's less than stealthy entry, but he relaxes again once he sees people he recognizes who don't appear to be inclined to run him out of town. "Heya, handsome," he directs toward the snowball fighters, though which one -- if any in particular -- it's meant for isn't clear. "Havin' a nice evening?" Julen's entrance goes unnoticed in the ruckus.
Bryce rolls to his feet with a decidedly feline grace, giggling as he does so. "It was only because it was two against one!" he says to Justin and Danny, still panting a little. He turns a grin and a wave towards Serendipity and Julen, though he does try to make it a respectful gesture with the Garou.
Danny nods a hello to Julen, managing to make the motion deferential in spite of its breveity, then gives Serendipity an uncertain look. "Not too bad, I guess..." he says, looking over at Justin for some sign of recognition.
Justin tosses his unused snowball into the air, where it vanishes into a curl of mist. "Good evening, rhya," he greets Julen, with a half-bow. "This is Serendipity," he tells Danny. "Ren, this is Danny, my kumi-mate. It's a lovely evening, thank you for asking."
Julen murmurs a general greeting, and heads for the fridge, limping only slightly. The word 'kumi' sharpens her attention on Justin, as she returns to leaning against the counter, water in hand.
Serendipity glances behind him, where their glances lead him to Julen. His expression betrays startlement, briefly, and he greets her with a surprisingly respectful nod of his own -- must have rubbed off from the others. He winks to Danny, waving to the threesome with a forkful of pasta. "Niceta meetcha."
Danny grins at Ren, but it's the sort of generic friendly grin that doesn't suggest anything more than a hello. "Danny. Good to meet you." He steps towards the counter, his eyes now focused on the day's muffins, or what's left of them.
Justin follows Danny to the food. If you want food, following Danny is a good way to find it. "Planning to stay or move on?" he asks Ren, meanwhile, curiously.
Julen nods at Serenity. "Julen," she says, briefly, and then slides down slightly, so as not to be in the way of Danny's search for food.
"Serendipity Jones," Ren reiterates for Danny and Julen, with a shift of head and shoulders that's all of a bow he can manage without actually standing up, "At your service. Planning to stay until I don't; usually seems to work for me." The ubiquitous grin is back in force.
There are indeed a few muffins left--oat and dried berry--as well as some granola from the Farm and a few loaves of bread. Danny takes a muffin and vanishes into the kitchen briefly, returning with some butter, a breadknife, and a sizable bowl of winter vegetables.
"Is there any tea, Danny?" Justin asks, as he collects some bread for himself. "Or should I make some?" He glances at Ren with half a wry smile. "Well, be careful about when you plan to leave, or you'll end up assimilated."
Julen claims a muffin and finally finds a seat, lowering herself carefully into it.
Serendipity laughs, tipping his head back to look at Justin upside down. "No worries. My people don't root well. ...and we don't breed well in captivity." Broader grin. He sits up straighter again, polishing off the pasta. "So... what's a kumi-mate when it's at home here?"
Bryce steals a chunk of muffin from Danny's plate and munches it cheerfully. He apparently doesn't have anything to add to the conversation just yet, and keeps quiet.
Safi ducks into the diner, her hair frozen into dripping icicles at the ends. Shadowed, half-wild eyes scan the well-populated room, and alarm flickers to life in them.
Julen, who is in one of the corner tables, raises a muffin in silent greeting to Safi.
Danny swats at Bryce's hand, mock-scowling at the Onza, and fishes a small, marinated mushroom out of the bowl. "I didn't see any, so we'll need to get some water going." Reminded by Ren's comment, he adds, "We should tell Julen, about the kumi," before decimating his chosen prey. He is just preparing to choose another mushroom when he sees Safi come inside, and simply stares at her condition, blinking.
Safi spots Julen with visible relief; she gives a quick not-quite-there attempt at a smile to Justin and Bryce and Danny. Ducking her head in a little nod, she threads her way over to Julen and sits down on the floor at the woman's feet.
Justin blinks at Ren. "I'm sorry, I don't understand the question." He seems about to say something more when Safi comes in, and he pauses, startled by her condition, but when she goes over to Julen, apparently decides she doesn't need immediate cosseting, and clears his throat. "Uhm, tea, yes. And yes, we shall tell Julen." He smiles at Julen and goes into the kitchen.
Julen doesn't seem to find this approach at all odd; she merely rests a hand briefly on Safi's shoulder, murmuring a quiet greeting to her. She calls, "Bring tea!" to Justin.
Safi leans her head against Julen's knee, the way a pet might.
Serendipity's grin manages to brighten at the appearance of Safi, and he leans up to set his now empty plate on the table-top -- flexible, since his feet are still crossed at the ankles, propped on the corner. "Heya, beautiful! Nice to see your lovely face again!"
Bryce blinks a bit at Icy Winter Safi, then grins and waves. "Hey Safi. How you doing?" he asks lightly, then glances between Justin and Danny. "Oh hey Julen, uh, rhya?" he says looking over towards the Garou now. "We decided we're a kumi, Justin and Danny and I." This seems to satisfy him for telling the news to Julen, and he steals another bit of muffin from Danny, heedless of swats.
The wood-nymph lifts her eyes with a flicker of surprise, at being addressed with such enthusiasm. She offers only a tentative, quiet smile in return, and then looks over to Bryce with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"
Assured that Julen has things with Safi well in hand, Danny takes the remains of his muffin and licks, with a smug glare at Bryce. He then applies butter to it liberally. "We're also just about done with Robin's floor. So next up is...the shed." His tone of voice is ominous, as if he were suggesting something akin to breaking into Miss Allison's home.
Now the door swings open and cold air and snow sweep in to charge against the fire's warmth, carry Ruth along inside. She stomps snow from her feet at the door, shakes it from her pants. The collar's turned up on her jacket, a hat's set firm down on her head and snow clings to her dark hair. She's humming, singing low in her rusty voice, something about doors opening and suns setting, interspersed with, "--off, off with you. Hah--" She shakes the last of the snow free and shuts the door behind her.
As usual it takes Justin far too little time to make tea--the kettle whistles in seconds, and shortly after that the wizard brings out the tea tray, with a small army of mugs. "Peppermint and camomile, I hope Sean doesn't mind. Rhya," and he pours for Julen first. Ah, the perks of being alpha.
"Thank you," murmurs Julen, and offers her cup to Safi. "I had, in fact, rather assumed you three would be joining together in more official terms, but congratulations on actually doing so. Do you plan to seek a spirit, or is that not your approach to such matters?"
Safi takes the cup without a word, and wraps both hands around it. Her breath mists across the surface, and then she takes a cautious sip.
Ruth gives the gathering a sidelong look as she steps to the counter. From a bowl of dried fruit she picks out a handful of apples, tucks most away while she leans back to chew on one. She tugs a hand through her curly hair, squints at the wet ends.
"How are you doing?" Bryce says slowly to Safi. "Are you happy? Are you sad? What is your state of being? What is up with you?"
Danny finally puts the muffin in the only place Bryce can't really steal it from (at least not without a fight). In about three large and hasty bites, he manages to chew and swallow the entire thing, butter and all. He demurely takes a napkin and wipes off his mouth and hands. "Probably not for now. Maybe later, though. But a spirit-caller would have to do the spirit calling, because we're not really spirity."
Justin smiles at Ruth, pleased to see her. "Hello, Foe-Hammer. Tea?" He also nods at Julen. "Thank you. I don't have any idea how we'd go about finding a spirit, nor what spirit might suit us, or us it, so it's not in the cards at the moment."
Ruth draws her brows up and glances at Justin. She doesn't quite smile, but the lines of her face soften a bit. "Tea," she says. "Foe Hammer's going to follow me, isn't it?"
Safi glances up to Bryce, over the rim of her cup of tea. "Nossing," she says quietly. "What is kumi?"
Julen salutes Ruth with her muffin, and then heroically represses a fondly bemused smile. "I am," she points out gently, "A theurge. Which is to say, I am one who knows much of spirits, and can call and speak to them. If you would like, at some future point, we can speak further of this. Or, if you like, we can not. But I am available, should you wish."
"It's a good name! It *should* follow you," Danny tells Ruth with a grin. He starts slicing bread, pausing occasionally to dispatch an artichoke heart or another mushroom. He bobs his head in thanks at Julen, grinning. "Thanks, rhya. You'll be first on our list if one of us hasn't grown spirit gifts by then."
Justin's smile deepens as he hands Ruth a mug full of tea. "I had a first-hand view of what you did to your foes, and 'hammer' is the perfect verb." He pours tea for those who might want it, including himself, and nearly spills it when he blinks in surprise at Julen. "...You -are- a theurge! We will have to discuss it sometime, for I'm very curious."
Serendipity almost looks hurt at Safi's ignoring of his greeting, but it passes quickly enough; he snags a muffin, and sets about breaking bite-sized pieces off, looking around at the surrounding people with hands. "...A'ight," he asks eventually, "Hands up, all of you who're shifters?"
Julen explains to Safi, "A kumi is a group of people, who work together. Sometimes, a spirit binds them together; sometimes, it does not." She raises an eyebrow, rather than a hand, at Serendipity. "I am. What of it?"
"Right," Ruth murmurs. She shakes her head, whickers low and warm and reaches out to gather the mug. Dark eyes look at Justin, sidelong, she chuckles. "We should patrol more."
Bryce waves at Ren, then holds a finger to his lips. "Shhh, it's a secret," he says in a loud whisper.
Safi looks over her shoulder to Julen with a quick nod of thanks, and then looks back over to bryce and Justin with a quick, nervous smile. "Julen is... very good, wis' talking to ze spirits. She knows more even zen me, all ze spirits on K'tahdin."
Danny raises his hand, which is now holding a piece of bread with a coating of butter. "Werepumpkin," he announces. The bread rapidly begins to follow the path of its brother the muffin.
"It's a date," Justin says to Ruth, cheerily. "And I am not a shifter, by any stretch of the imagination," he adds, in Ren's general direction, and takes his tea and bread to sit down near Danny, and steal his vegetables.
Ruth grins, settles back against the counter. "Try not to wheel you around, this time."
"What ki-" Ren starts, stopping again at Danny's remark, and laughing once in surprise. Eyebrow arched, he inquires, "....were-=pumpkin=? What, you forgot to shift back before the last stroke of midnight?"
Julen adds, to Safi, "Generally, kumis are formed by mages, shifters, and other people who protect Caerns, though I have known humans to join them as well." She watches Danny with a faintly raised eyebrow.
"Cinderella," Safi murmurs, giving Justin a shy half-smile. "I know zis story. Wis' ze slipper. It does not make very much sense, a shoe made of glass," she muses. Tipping her head, she leans it on Julen's knee. "I am like her," Safi says quietly. "No kumi, no family. Only Katahdin, and my Jack."
Bryce blinks over at Safi. "So who's your wicked stepmother? Jack or Katahdin?" he asks, then winces and bites his tongue. "Sorry."
Justin nearly chokes on his tea.
"We only change for a few minutes at midnight. Any longer and we're stuck as a pumpkin until the next midnight. That's a whole day when someone can cut you up into pie!" Danny sounds quite frightened over such a prospect, and looks around the room at everyone with wide eyes. "*Anyone* could be after your seeds." He manages to miss Bryce's comment, for he's too intent on his mock-fear and his bread.
Julen coughs into her muffin.
Ruth glances up from her tea at Danny. She whickers, low and quiet.
Safi's brow furrows slightly, as she considers Bryce's question. "I do not sink I have wicked stepmozzer," she says softly. "Only mozzer I ever have was... good to me, she... teached me everysing."
Bryce waves a hand and hunkers down, looking away. "Nevermind, it was a stupid question," he says, sounding glum now. "Sorry," he says again.
Serendipity puts on his most solemn face, nodding gravely at Danny's reply. "The pie thing, yeah, I'm with you on not getting cut up all the way. ... But hey, people after your seeds isn't all bad..." The grin's back. He looks Danny over -- not quite as lasciviously as it tends to be; more like he's looking for something. If so, it's a quick assessment.
Justin ahems, and manages to accomplish a drink of tea this time. "I'm glad you're reading so much, Safi, are you enjoying it?"
Safi nods quickly, lowering her eyes and drinking her tea.
Danny coughs and drops his mask of fearful silliness. "Actually I'm Epona's Get, the pumpkin thing was just a side-gig," he tells Ren. "Didn't work out too well; I kept eating all my adopted family members. They sort of kicked me out, and I didn't want to take up with the were-eggplants." He polishes off his slice of bread and pours a mug of tea for himself.
Ruth pushes herself away from the counter and finds a seat near the fire. She shrugs her way out of her jacket, folds herself down on a seat. In firelight and evening, the pale, twisty lines of her scarred arms stand out. "Mf," she says, quiet. She sets her tea aside and starts rubbing warmth into her arms.
Justin's mouth thins at Safi's answer, and he drops his gaze from her, and turns to finishing his food.
Safi sneaks a surreptitious glance at Justin, worry in her eyes; her attention returns rather quickly to the mug in her hands.
Bryce starts pressing little patterns into the wood tabletop with his thumbnail, keeping his eyes lowered.
Julen continues watching Serendipity, slightly amused.
Serendipity looks more than slightly amused, though maybe a tiny bit disappointed by the revelation of Danny's true nature. "Don't blame you. Wouldn't wanna be a squash myself. ...For one thing, I don't think that's what the poets mean by 'vegetable love'..." He pops the last of the muffin in his mouth, and stretches extensively.
Danny grins at Ren. "No, probably not." He nickers a response to Ruth, then sniffs over his shoulder and goes back into the kitchen, suddenly intent on something.
Safi looks over her shoulder. "Julen, maybe I see you... on ze mountain, tonight?"
Julen murmurs, "Yes. I plan to be there. Patrolling, but also greeting the spirits." After a moment, she adds, in Serendipity's general direction, "I am a Garou, if you were still wondering."
Justin helps himself to the remainder of Danny's marinated mushrooms and artichokes while the Perunka is distracted. "Danny has a great love for vegetables, rather than a vegetable love."
Ruth settles back into her chair and folds her arms about her middle. She turns her head about to look at Justin. A dark brow goes up and she chuckles.
Serendipity turns the grin on Justin, though his tone is mock-solemn, "Long's he doesn't express that love physically. They chase you outta town for that. ...Sometimes. I hear." He looks to Julen again, and nods, as if that makes sense. "Thanks.... I was." He hesitates as if he were about to say something more, but doesn't.
Julen raises an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"
Safi downs the last of her tea and rolls to her feet, the empty cup miraculously steady in her hands; if it were full, she would not spill a drop. "Thank you, Justin, for the tea..." She glances down to the empty cup. "I am going to K'tahdin," she says, to no one in particular--though she glances to Serendipity and Justin, worried that she has been the cause of annoyance. "Good night." Eyes downcast, her shoulders slightly hunched against the presence of multiple people, she leaves by way of the kitchen.
"Good night," Justin says to Safi, glancing up at her as she leaves.
Bryce frowns at Safi leaving and gets up to go after her. "I'll see you guys later, okay?" he says to Danny and Justin, then follows Safi out.
Serendipity gets distracted by Safi running off. Fleeing already? On the other hand, that was practically an invitation... Oh, right. Julen was talking. "...do you get a lot of other shifters through here, much?"
Julen tilts her head. "Quite a few. There's a Caern we protect, you see. Though," she adds, glancing at Justin, "It's not just the shifters who help protect it."
Justin smiles at Julen in acknowledgement, and leans back, drinking his tea.
Serendipity nods, looking thoughtful again. "...Any interesting kinds?" The grin pops back, "...not counting the werepumpkins, I mean."
"The trees," Ruth says, amiably. "You don't know how many get up and walk around, when the moon's right."
Julen shrugs. "Bastet, Garou, quite a herd of perunka... A Nikkita who visits every so often. I don't know what you'd consider interesting. Other than the tree," she allows, "But it doesn't really shift. It just walks."
Serendipity nods, tapping his finers in quick sequence against the tabletop once, and then smiles again, a bit mischievously. "That Sean's Nikkita?" he asks carelessly, and considers the rest a moment. "Cats and Wolves and Horses and Bears, oh my. And trees. No Birds? Or Coyotes?"
Danny returns from the kitchen after much rummaging around. He has discovered exactly what he thought he would--more muffins! "They were hiding in a muffin tin," he says, dumping them into a basket on the counter. A larger variety, too--pumpkin, zucchini, and apple-bran, along with the usual cinnamon-oat. He notes Bryce's absence, then his missing vegetables. The smell of balsamic vinegar on Justin gives him away, and the Mage earns himself a narrow-eyed smile that promises retribution.
Julen shakes her head. Voice sad, she says, "We no longer have a Corax. She died, defeating the Hive. And I do not believe that Sean's Nikkita is Sashenka, no."
Justin smiles a serene smile that has more than a few echoes of Robin in it, at Danny.
Ruth pushes herself up from her chair and stretches, slow and spare. She winces at her arms, then looks over at Danny. A brow goes up and she walks over to the basket. One of the zucchini muffins is soon in her hands.
Danny brightly contradicts Julen. "No we do! I swear I saw her recently!" He stops and bites his lip. "Oh, what was her name...Ilsa, or Amy...something like that. Indee!" He snaps his fingers. "A trader. Said she had something for Higami. If she's still around, that is." The lukewarm state of Danny's tea does not dampen his enthusiasm for drinking it.
Julen brightens. "Do we? I have yet to meet her, then. I will look for her, however."
Ruth eats the muffin, a few quick bites, then slings her jacket on, tucks her hat down over her ears. She glances over at Justin, then tucks her hands in her pockets. "Got something to do at the farm. I'll be around the house tomorrow. We can go patrolling before sun-up."
Justin suppresses a bout of unenthusiasm for the time frame, and nods at Ruth. "I'll be ready."
Serendipity brightens a little at that, too, but he's still waiting -- a touch of lingering hope that fades gradually. "Wonder if I've met her," he muses, and kicks his feet off the table to get up for another muffin and some tea of his own.
Danny gives Justin a sympathetic look, and nibbles on a pumpkin-muffin. "I need to find her again and see if she can help me find bicycle parts." He glances at Ren, and asks hopefully, "You wouldn't happen to have any, would you? Gears, wheels..."
Ruth smiles, then, quick and warm. She lifts a hand, waves once to gathered folk, then steps to the front door and opens it. The sun's long passed beneath the horizon and cold air whisks in around her feet, stills when she shuts the door behind her. Her shadow passes the front window, there's a solid thump of hooves against snow, and then she's gone.
Julen then adds, "And no, I do not believe we have any coyote shifters here. More's the pity."
"What do we need gears for?" Justin asks Danny.
Damn. Ren nods in acknowledgement to Julen's addition, and the residual touch of hope dissipates. "...thanks. Huh." Well. On to other things. "Not =on= me, no... but I could possibly hunt some down. Whatcha need gears for?"
A moment later, Julen asks, "Why do you seek them?"
Danny adds more tea to his mug and explains to Justin, "*I* need some. Well maybe you could use them too." Now he addresses everyone. "It's the best way to make a pottery wheel if you don't have engineers to machine parts. The gears switch easily so all you need is a few pulleys to adjust the speed and voila! One multi-speed pottery wheel."
Justin ohs! "Of course. That'll be easy to put together, as long as we have...the gears. Yes." Faintly embarrassed, he drinks more tea.
Serendipity blinks, and shrugs. "I'll take your word for it. But gimme a few days and I'll see if I run into anything." He reaches into his coat, and rummages around for a moment, glancing up and to the side as if it requires serious concentration. He pulls out a silvery flask of something and adds it liberally to his glass of tea.
Julen repeats, "Ren. Why do you seek them?"
Danny beams at Ren in thanks and waits to hear what he has to tell Julen. The pumpkin muffin is almost gone now, and he's making threatening gestures at the remaining vegetables.
Justin remains quiet, as well, waiting to hear Ren's response, although he's not exactly sure of the question.
Serendipity blinks at Julen. "....Oh. Heh, I thought you meant him and his gears," he replies, gesturing toward Danny. The flask gets refastened and disappears into the coat; he tastes the tea rather cautiously, then takes a heartier sip once it proves acceptable. "Well," he replies flippantly, "it's about time for the family reunion, and =someone's= gotta deliver the invitations..."
Julen regards Ren evenly for several long moments. "Well. You're rather unexpected," she finally says, the faintest touch of surprise bleeding into her tone. "I assume, then, you're not planning on staying?"
Danny stops in the act of dispatching an artichoke and stares at Ren. "Coyote's Kin? No kidding?"
Justin glances at Danny, Julen, then Ren, obviously bewildered. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Serendipity," Ren replies with somewhat understated amusement, "Is always unexpected." The grin slips back into place, bright and broad as usual, and he lounges in his chair again, with a not to Danny. "Bona fide Child of Coyote. My grandfather was a trueblood. Is, probably, but he's been on walkabout a long, long time..." He tweaks the cuff of his sleeve, and picks up his cup for another good sip of doctored tea.
Julen continues, as if she'd been answered, "...Because we'd certainly welcome you if you wanted to stay."
Danny grins broadly. "They still tell stories about Coyote back home. Old tradition from the Sinagua." He quiets, waiting to see if Ren has a response for Julen.
The bell on the door of the Diner jingles with more than its usual noise, as Miki pulls it open with great force. He stands in the doorway a moment, staring at all the assembled people, a giant wolf-- no, wait, that's Rowan, in hispo-- leaning against his leg. The expression in Miki's eyes is more than a little wild, and he's as wet as if he'd been tumbled down the Mountain. He looks around the room, one comprehensive glance, then crosses the floor, nearly running, and flings his arms around Justin without even the hint of hesitation. "Who are you?" he demands, apparently of Justin's shoulder.
Justin does not quite get his mug set down before he's tackled; it falls to the floor and cracks neatly into thirds. "Dark and -light-!" he yelps. "Miki--" He wraps his arms around Miki in turn. If he was bewildered before, he's utterly flabbergasted now. "What do you mean, who am I?"
Serendipity is startled momentarily speechless by the entry. No small feat. Julen'll have to wait a little longer for her answer; he's too interested in The Justin & Miki Show just now.
Miki leans back and looks into Justin's eyes searchingly. "You came back. You remember this, right? And the King is someone else? Not you?"
Rowan scans around, intently, nose twitching, and then trots over to Julen and sniffs at her searchingly. Raising his glance to her, he asks, You are Alpha? This is 2251?
Julen regards Rowan for several moments. "Yes. What has happened?"
Danny starts at Miki's entrance and Rowan's form, and the breaking mug seals the deal. He manages to move almost a foot away from Justin in that manner of all panicked horses--suddenly and without actual motion; one moment he's staring wide-eyed and the next he's clutching another corner of the counter.
"You're soaked, and you're freezing!" Justin's catalogue of Miki-problems comes to an abrupt halt, and the color drains from his face as he stares back into Miki's eyes. "Is he here?" he demands fiercely, suddenly. "Is the King here?"
Rowan melts into homid. "No. He's not. Don' y'all go panicking just because /we/ are." He looks around and, finally, does something resembling relaxing. He takes a breath, then another. "Got taken into... I guess I'd call it a possible future. Where we all /died/. Pleasant kind of experience, really. Rex was Alpha and..." He trails off. "Ma'am, I can report facts."
Julen nods. "Yes," she says, fairly dryly. "Do that."
Miki's response to Justin's tense question is very odd: what is clearly relief washes over his face. "No," he says, and slumps against the other man. "And you are all right. And everyone is alive."
Danny looks at Rowan and Miki, very clearly trying to keep himself under control. He reaches over for his tea mug, hand shaking every so slightly.
"Right." Rowan stands at what might be called parade rest. "Bunch of people's old enemies -- Argent, some vampires, someone from Robin's past-- got together when Rex was 19 and sacked the area. They did not destroy the Caern, for reasons Rex could not explain. Many of us died, even those who were not part of the Cineal, such as Gerard. Speaking of which," he says, less formally, "we have to invite him in." He returns to formality and goes on, "There were two totems then that we do not have now, Snake and Chickadee, but other than that, the Caern matched to ours. Justin," he adds, not looking at the aforementioned, "Was extremely distraught, but was not connected to the wizard king. He implied it was a mistake to kill the Wizard King, but that, I cannot judge. Would you add more, Miki?
Justin listens to Rowan with widening and horrified eyes. "...Died? But...I lived?" He looks down at Miki, holding him tight, then back at Rowan, pleading.
Miki's mouth is suspiciously controlled. "In that world, you were one of the only ones left, Justin. You lived all alone, and you thought you were *him.*" He turns and looks at Rowan, still looking rather unhappy. "He sometimes seemed to remember that there had been another Wizard-King, which he had killed, but he also seemed to think that it made him the next Wized-King, and that he was some sort of world-destroyer." His gaze goes back to Justin. "And it was he who sent us back home." Abruptly, he looks back at Rowan. "Do you think he could have sent the white peacock for a sign?"
Danny concentrates on his tea. "Shatterer of worlds," he murmurs to himself, a little distantly.
Serendipity glances around from face to face, one eyebrow slightly arched. He's obviously filing all these comments away while he waits for the clue that'll make it all make sense. Eventually.
"Rex did not say why you survived, Justin. I doubt he knew." Rowan shrugs at Miki. "I dunno. A sign of /what/?"
Justin doesn't respond to Rowan. He's staring at Miki again--and then he's shoving Miki away, stumbling backwards over his tipping-over chair, managing somehow to stay on his feet. His pupils are the size of pinpricks. "No! GodDAMN you, you mad-dog son of a bitch, I won't do it, I WON'T be you!" He's not shouting at anyone here, his gaze far distant and tharn. Electricity sparks to life in his hair and clothes, crackles in his beard. The lights in the Diner swell and flicker.
Rowan practically snarls, then spits, "Then don't /act/ like him. That's the /only/ answer."
"Bassza meg!" Miki shouts back, then pulls back a hand and hits Justin squarely across the jaw with his fist. It is not a playful tap, either. "I will not let YOU go mad!"
Rowan gawks appreciatively.
"Justin!" Danny shouts, his voice edging into hysteria. He abandons his mug without much care for how well it lands on the counter and moves towards the Mage, making to grab him.
Serendipity doesn't have quite the being-elsewhere-without-moving knack Danny showed earlier, but if it weren't for that prior example the deft speed with which he ends up out of range of all those freaked-out arms and legs would be rather impressive. And he doesn't spill his tea -- mostly because his hand was over the top of the cup while he moved, but hey.
Justin's head snaps around with the force of the punch, and already off-balance, he stumbles into Danny's arms. He doesn't look up, breathing hard, sagging against the Perunka. The electric buildup in his clothes settles, though, and the lights of the Diner also settle back to their normal wattage.
Miki presses his hand to his mouth, also breathing hard. He looks as though he's trying very hard to keep from saying something, or doing something. He just stands there.
Danny grunts and catches Justin, but isn't capable of supporting nearly double his own weight on such short notice and promptly staggers back into the counter. They both collapse to the floor in an ungainly heap, and for a minute, Danny sits there, dazed and staring blankly. He glances up at Miki, and there's something like absolute fury in his eyes. Then he's focusing on Justin again. "Hey, you alright?" he asks quietly.
Rowan heads right over to Miki and, tentatively, rests a hand briefly on his shoulder. Then he asks Justin, "You... ok?"
Miki gropes for a chair and sits down, not looking at anyone. His face is paper-white.
Serendipity watches quietly, sipping his tea, then drains it, sets the cup aside, and rummages in his coat again, coming out with the flask again after a moment -- actually, it might not be the same flask, but it's hard to tell. It seems bigger, and a little more tarnished. This time he sets it down on the table, where it rests with a solid thunk.
"I'm okay," Justin murmurs. "It's okay, Danny. He had to." Gingerly he starts extracting himself from the heap he and Danny make on the floor. He looks up at Miki, pale, but composed, a thin line of blood trickling from the side of his mouth. "Thank you."
Rowan slides down into a seat on the floor, leaning against Miki's chair. There's the flicker of a smile at Justin's reaction, but it's brief. And, too, almost invisible, there on the floor.
Miki looks down at Justin, guilt written in every line of his body which does not get any lighter when he sees the blood on Justin's face. He makes a sort of helpless gesture with one hand, perhaps trying to convey that thanks are not needed, and looks back down at his feet.
Danny takes deep, measured breaths and pulls himself up off the floor using the edge of the counter. He stares at the pieces of Justin's mug, then shuts his eyes and continues breathing carefully.
Serendipity arches a brow, opens the flask, and pours himself a new cup of... well, whatever it is, sans tea this time. It's golden anyway. "'s a rule, y'know. If you're not fucked-up before a fight, you've gotta make the effort after," he remarks casually as he reclaims his comfortable spot to lean.
"Pitiful sort of fight," Justin remarks with a brave attempt at humor, although his voice is rough. He touches his mouth delicately and winces. "I... I'm patrolling with Ruth, before dawn... I should go home." With a perfectly straight back and deliberate steps, he paces out of the diner, expression grave, without a glance at anybody else.
Before the front door closes behind Justin, Miki has left his chair and is through the kitchen door. He moves very fast, knocking over a chair that is in his way.
Rowan lurches upwards and follows Miki.
Danny doesn't have to open his eyes to know Justin's left, but he does just in case any furniture or bodies might spring up in his path. He's on the Mage's heals in an instant, close enough that he doesn't even need to hold the door open for himself.
Miki hits the kitchen door with a loud thump of his elbow and pushes through it blindly.
Julen, left with Ren, smiles at him inquiringly.
Serendipity watches the exodus, taking one exaggerated step aside when it becomes evident that the kitchen's about to be an exit route as well. He sighs, shaking his head longsufferingly, and returns to his seat at the table, getting back into his comfy, feet-up lounge, and offering the flask to Julen wordlessly. "Like I was saying earlier -- my people don't thrive in captivity, y'know? ...but it's nice bein' welcomed. And I'm thinkin' I might stay here a while..." The grin flashes, and he shrugs, "...long's you guys don't run me outta town."
Julen shakes her head. "Not," she says firmly, "Planning on it. If you would like to help out, just ask one of us."
Serendipity salutes with the flask still in his hand, and deftly twists the lid tight before shoving it back somewhere within his coat. "Hey, anytime. You guys have something you need me for, just give a shout. I'm staying at the Farm. ...Mostly."
"I will certainly do so. Though," Julen adds, with a faint smile, "I would have to know what your expertise is, before I would be able to give such a shout."
Serendipity thinks a moment, and the smile is unusually faint, quirked up at one side as he replies, "Travel. Talking. Orgasms. Finding things. Keeping my ass in one piece. Happy accidents." He pauses, considering, and adds, "...and I make a pretty good omelette."
Julen's smile grows slightly. "I will keep that in mind." She glances outside. "And now, I should depart. But I am /quite/ pleased to meet you."
Serendipity stands again, in order to sweep a properly flamboyant bow for Julen's benefit. "Pleased to meet you as well," he's stepped slightly closer, and claims one of her hands gently but quickly, planting an overtly gallant kiss on the back of her hand, "...Ms. Julen. Sweet dreams."
Julen's smile twitches up further. "And the same to you, m'sieur," she murmurs, before limping off out the back door.