Pushing the door open, Collin strolls on in. He's looking down at the map in his hands as he does. He stops, folds it up expertly, then looks around. Finding Bernie isn't too hard when you can cheat and use a rite to do it.

Bernie is alone, in the back corner of the back corner booth. The booth is made to hold 6 to 10 people, and a lone figure in it seems almost forlorn. There's no one in the several booths around her, either. A coffee mug is on the table in front of her, and she has some small items on the table, and seems to be considering them, pushing them slowly around. Collin's entry goes unnoticed for the time being.

So Collin strolls on over and slides into the booth across from her. "Hi, Bernie." He says, idly. "Hey.. what's wrong?" It really does not take too long to figure out that, yes, there's something wrong with her mood.

"Hey," Bernie replies in a soft greeting, not really looking up from the things she's toying with at first. They appear, on closer inspection, to be a selection of glass eyes, or something similar. One, in a small box, most definitely is. It's got a dark brown iris, with gold flecks in it, a slightly pinky-yellow 'white', and little blood vessels running through it. The others are similar in size and shape, their 'whites' whiter, and have odd things replacing the irises -- a happy face, a christmas tree, an exclamation mark, a cat's eye, one that seems to be a full moon -- there are eight in all. She stops gently pushing them around, and looks up at Collin. "Did you know yet Rotem's dead?" she asks, quietly.

"Rotem?" Collin squints a little. Clearly, he's not too familiar with then name. "No.. I didn't know. The only thing I really heard about the guy was the time he really annoyed Sepdet." He shakes his head, then runs a hand through his hair before he leans forward. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't know." He shakes his head, then asks quietly, "What happened?"

Bernie runs a finger over the full-moon eye. "Dunno for certain," she says, "...someone shot him in th' head, in th' church. Either it was him or it was Jarred makin' it look like it was him. Long story. Dunno 'f I wanna 'splain it right now." She sighs. She looks, somehow, a little smaller than usual.

"You don't have to." Collin says, lowly, "Sometimes the dead are best served by silence. That's something we know very well. But we can talk about that somewhere that isn't here. Is there anything I can do?" The offer is quiet, simple.

Bernie inhales slowly, and then equally slowly blows the air back out. "I dunno," she replies, then, "nothing really comes t' mind. But thank you..." She picks up a little bag from beside her, and slides the eyes into it, all but the normal looking one, which she just closes the case of, and puts them all into her backpack.

"Well, let me know." Collin says, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. He props his chin up on his hands. He looks down towards the table, though, to see how much coffee she has left in the first place. His expression is relatively neutral beyond that bit of concern he's obviously feeling for her.

And the answer to that question is: just about all of it. And it isn't sending up any steamy indications of warmth, either. Bernie nods, and runs a hand through her curls. "Thanks," she repeats, and goes silent again for a minute or so. "...so. What's new with you?"

"Just making some generalized plans to do a few things. Try to fix a few issues. Resolve a few things. Nothing of earth shattering importance, though, thankfully." Collin admits, solemnly.

"'sgood," Bernie replies, just as solemnly, "think I pr'fer my earth unshattered. On th' whole." She pauses again, and gives her coffee a suspicious look. "...seen th' AssMan since th' other night?"

"He's taken to covering his ass." Collin says with a small grin. "I went and looked for him, sneakily, a few days later. Seems he found out about it and, well.. he's not exactly wearing assless chaps lately. I'm sure he'll try to get revenge later."

That gets a small and fleeting grin of triumph. "Chalk one up for th' forcesa Good an' Tastefulness, namely us. So y'think he'll blame you for it?" Bernie asks. "...I kina doubt he got much of a look at me, if he even made that connection..."

"No. He'll blame me," Collin says, cheerfully. "Because he'll know I masterminded the whole thing. Even though we worked on it together, he'll blame me. Because I'm there and cheerfully annoying. And I'll ask him if I can play a game of darts on his ass because then he'd be a *real* buttdart instead of a phony one." He snickers.

Bernie smiles fleetingly again. "Hey, no fair," she remarks, a bit of teasing in it, "=I= get t' be th' mastermind, dammit." She sighs, and risks a sip of the coffee, regretting it immediately. "...ugh."

"You just want to see his ass again," Collin remarks in turn, idly. "Fresh coffee?"

"Not very," Bernie replies dryly, regarding the liquid in question, and then glances up, "an' it wasn't =that= spectacular an ass. There's plennya others 'round I could admire 'f I were inclined to, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Collin waggles his eyebrows, playfully, then adds, "You gonna be okay, though?"

Bernie half-smiles. "I'll live," she replies. "Life goes on, an' all. For th' resta us, anyway..." She pushes the mug of coffee-like-liquid away, pushes her curls back behind her shoulders, and then adjusts her glasses a little. "Thanks, though. For askin', an' all."

"It's my job as your friend." Collin says, firmly. He reaches over to touch her hand, lightly, in a comforting and purely friendly manner. "Of course it does. That's all we can do. Go on living. Easier said than done, but refusing to move on can lead to disaster, you know?"

Bernie hehs softly. "Yeah, onward movin'. I don't plan t' stay right here f'rever, or anythin'... in fact, I'm thinkin' any time now I might go back home an' give sleepin' a second chance. Might work this time."

"You want company?" A pause, "For the walking part, not the sleeping."

Bernie laughs once, quietly. "Think it'd start getting crowded. But walkin' with, sure, you're welcome to 'f y'wanna." She starts sliding out of the booth, pulling the backpack with her. Two crumpled dollar bills emerge from her pocket and take up a station on the tabletop for the waitress.

"Getting crowded?" Collin eyes Bernie. "Well, I could dig that. But only if it's a girl." He winks, snickers a little, then stands up. "All right. Let's go."

Bernie stretches a bit, and starts toward the door. "'s what I love 'boutcha, y'know, your optimism an' dreams..." she teases, and slides her hands into her pockets. Of course, one immediately re-emerges to open the doors, and she heads out.

"Are you kidding? That thought's practically suicidal!" Collin says, cheerfully, and strolls on out of the Denny's with Bernie.

Bernie winces a little at the choice of wording. It takes about half a minute before she just remarks, "Well. 'snothing wrong with =sleeping=." The apartment isn't far from Denny's, only a few blocks, really, so it's not a terribly lengthy walk.

Collin winces too. Immediately, he looks apologetic. "I'm sorry," he's quick to say. "Sometimes, if rarely, I speak faster than I can think. I'll go gnaw on my own foot when we're done."

"'s a'ight. Happens t' th' besta us. An' don't say 'obviously' or anythin' similar or I'll rescind th' forgiveness." Bernie half-smiles, briefly, a hand on the building door. "...so we should do somethin' soon, yeah? Cause s'more havoc for someone deservin', an' all."

"Mmmhmm. Somehow, I doubt He Of The Assless Chaps is going to deserve it again anytime soon. I feel he's suffered, but we'll see if he's learned his lesson and adopts a less... tactless style of clothing." Collin smiles back at her, still amused by their victory, it seems. "You have a good rest, okay? I hope you feel better."

"Well," Bernie comments practically, "it's a big city, he can't be th' =only= person who needed it. An' thanks. Me too." She smiles wryly, and opens the door, stepping in. "G'night, Divinity."

"G'night, Bernie." Collin bobs his head at her and watches her go in. It's not like he's going to follow her.