Log:Kat Meets and Sorta Greets 2

Kat Meets and Sorta Greets 2
Participants Kat Lulu and Six	19 March, 2017 Kat's quest to eat her tuna fish is interrupted by Six cornering her. She fails to eat Lulu.
Location Crossroads Cafe

Kat is, in fact, still here. The last person she met she eventually fled from in abject terror, or at least retreated from to eat her sandwich (tuna salad) and drink her large mug of coffee (with too much milk) alone in peace. So, that's what she's doing, seated alone in a booth in such a way that she has a good view on everyone who comes in. And boy does she ever pay attention, wide eyes tracking nearly every stranger who comes and goes with a look that mixes curiousity and paranoia. The majority are uneventful. But surely not all.

When someone as young as Six looks walks into a diner at this time of day with a rolled newspaper and a composition book, they're usually showing off or pretending at being someone they're not. But not altogether strange. The strange comes to those who note his mind. His grayscale skin. His grayscale clothes. And his eyes, currently a vibrant piercing blue - Caribbean seas under an open sky, blue - to contrast the whole of him. He picks the booth next to Kat's. Sets down the newspaper, letting unfurl; and weight it down with the book so that it might straighten with time. He orders coffee (black) and no food (for now). Tips his head to Kat, in greeting, and sits.

Lulu's first interaction with the cafe at large is a solid thump as she faceplants into the nearest window. It just so happens that pressed against this window one dark eye rounds upon the food of the unfourunate patrons who were startled by her clumsy appearance. People on the street had been favored to watch her nearly stumble into traffic a few times as cars went by. After a moment she scoots around to the door and pops inisde taking a deep breath and smiling a crooked little smile which causes dimples in her cheeks and chin. "Wow.." She breathes as she flounces in. With a flurry of skirts and flouncing movements the fluffy haired blonde plops into a seat and drums her fingers on the table lightly.

Of course, in her course of cautious people-watching, Kat takes ready note of the entrants who stretch that definition somewhat. She is aware that there are quite a lot of her kind coming to town now, but like most, she is slow to trust. No, scratch that, she's like that, with a whole additional layer of wariness piled on top. And that wariness goes double, triple, for those who start coming right at her! She's easy enough to pick out as well, and so her careful crouching down is likely to be pretty obvious. She doesn't -quite- hide under the table in her booth, but she looks ready to make a bolt beneath it. And while she's grappling with this stranger's approach and her own instinct to run away and hide, there comes a very obvious thump on the window from outside. She startles a little and quickly looks that way, following through the glass as the fluffy young woman makes her own way in. And so Kat starts to fidget, very nervously. It's turning into a convention in here! And maybe she would flee, but now she's kinda cut off.

Six nearly slides right back out of his booth when Lulu hits the window. He leans out toward the bar, instead, head turned to the window but cocked back. He stays frozen like this, for a moment, eyes locked on Lulu, while outside; gaze following her inside. Attention diverted, straightening up when his coffee arrives. He doesn't put anything in it. Just sets it aside, to the right of his book and paper and lets it steam. He looks back up - between Kat and Lulu. Assessing blue eyes. Analytical. "We could fill half a booth," he decides. "We could share a whole one? In case of one of those late night rush hours comes in and they need space." His voice is calm. Even. Confident in a way, that young souls usually aren't, in public.

Lulu picks up a menu and pulls her legs up under her so she's sitting cross legged, perched on her seat. After folding herself carefully and balancing precariously she opens and starts to read. It takes a while because she pauses and stops to stare at passing cars with wide eyed intensity at least three times while trying to look over the food selection. "They have walnut salad!" She practically squees to, well, Six one presumes. because she's looking at him now since he spoke up. Feathery-lashed black eyes slide from Six towards the nervous woman. A quick assasement of Kat has Lulu drawing in and her lashes flutter nervously and a breeze tugs at her loose flowing clothing and unique wing-patterned hair. "Okay. A long as I get my Walnut salad." Nevermind those nervous looks Kat's direction and the little shiver that leaves a tiny dusting of shimmery residue on her chair.

Despite any offering, Kat isn't going anywhere, not at first. She observes the other two. Lulu's salad enthusiasm is what actually reaches her, though, and she will pipe up to say, "You can have anything at the counter or delivered to your table." As if this is a rare or unusual service! Still, confirmation. "Anything you want. Well, that's on the menu." After supplying this information, she waits and sees if the fluttery, glittering woman goes off to accept the offer and how the other two will eventually settle in. Gauging, still.

Six nods. They have a walnut salad; he knows it, or assumes it to be true. "I'm not allergic. Not to walnuts or usual salad-y bits, anyway," he assures Lulu, not standing in the way of her desired meal. He picks up his coffee. Tucks his book and paper beneath his arm. And stands. He walks to stand by Kat's booth, next to the one he'd chosen for himself, but turns at an angle halfway between Lulu and Kat in direction. "Six," he offers. "The number, but also my name," he explains. Turning to Kat alone, he asks, "Mind if I - or we - sit?" Still oddly calm. A little detached for his evenness.

Lulu nods, "That's good. I'm hungry." She admits as she chews her lip and sets the menu down on the table. "I like places that don't make me get my own food. Buffets. They're such a pain in the butt." The lazy little pale green Lost chirps. She moves out of her seat, half tumbles really and bumbles her way over to the booths. "Six? What happened to the other five?" She inquires as she glances, again, nervously at Cat..er..Kat. "I'm Lulu!" She tells them, and then tells the Waitress who moves too close. "Hello. I'm Lulu. I would like your finest Walnut salad. Lots of greens please. And tea to drink. Lots of sugar. Like.. if you could just bring me a cup of suga usually that works best." While talking to the waitress she appears to have forgotten that she hadn't gotten an affirmative on sitting because she drops in the booth and turns wide dark eyes to both new faces.

Kat feels decidedly like she's getting cornered here, and indeed, it soon proves to be true. And while she doesn't actually dive under the table, she does actually start backing into the corner of her booth, and eventually up onto the seat so she's standing perched on it instead of sitting, coiled as if ready to leap for another escape route. "Um. You're both new." Perhaps she's the Freehold's Knight-Captain d'Obvious. "Have you met..." And she does modulate her voice to the point where at least the conversation isn't being shouted around the room, and makes sure the waitress has done her part and moved on (although she seems to know Kat and her order well enough to ask if she wants a refill first), "the Waylady? If you're new, you gotta meet her, or them. You know, to see if you're OK." IE, not here to sell them out and kidnap everyone back! Still, answer pending, she'll at least echo an introduction: "Kat." How coincidental!

"Other five?" Six asks while he blinks, uncertain at first. Realization hits like a bent slinky stumbling down the steps and he smiles, slowly. On the last blink, his eyes are no longer blue, but brown; moody brown, like milk chocolate. He's quiet until Lulu's order is in. "They stormed out when they got showed up by the new model," he quips, as if his comedic timing weren't two ticks of the clock too late. With Lulu taking the seat on the one side, he moves into the one that Kat evacuates; not helping with that cornered feeling. He sets his paper, book, and coffee down. No longer waiting for the affirmative. He looks over and up at the perched Kat. "I'm cleared," he assures her. "And pledged. I'm guessing you are too." His voice is less robotic, now. There's a new smile on his lips to match the new colour of his eyes.

Lulu hmms, "Oh. I've done all that already, months ago before I even had a job." Nervous cat makes for flutery moth. When Kat gets to the far corner and half out of her seat Lulu's movements take on a slightly more frantic motion as she fiddles with the silverware until another car driving by catches her eye. She stares until it's gone and then looks back towards Six and her brows knit suddenly. "Did I forget your eye color?" She looks towards Kat like she might know. However when Six explains where one through five went she peers towards Six and clucks her tongue. "What wasted opportunities." Her long nimble fingers start to finger the table again, tapping and smoothing her fingerpads against the smooth surface in an unconscious fidgit.

Well, that all seems to calm Kat down slightly. Not that it's impossible someone might lie about such things... but! Well, it's probably a hard enough one to get away with for long that the feline is willing to put her impending retreat on temporary hold. She settles, at least a little, in her seat, and bobs her head in answer. "I've lived in the area my whole life, so I joined when it started up. Though mostly, I'm not to... involved." Skittish kitty does not scheming politicker make? "I just help, if anyone has a question or needs a reading on something." Outside of this, she can't help but watch Lulu's finger-fidgits. Must. Restrain. Urge. To. Pounce.

Six picks up his mug. Blows steam from the surface of his coffee. Smirks at Lulu over it, for the question, and sets to coffee back down without a sip. Even the brown of his eyes seems colourful in contrast to his grayscale skin and wardrobe. "Didn't forget," he tells her. " I just put on a spare pair, is all." And he nods in agreement. Wasted opportunities, the lot of them. "What kind of job?" he asks Lulu, in return. Head turns to Kat, after. "I came through here, couple years ago. Might have just missed me," he tells her. "Or maybe neither of us were as memorable as we are now. Good meeting you now, either way. What kind of readings?" Curious sort. A mantle of whistling winter wind. He picks up his coffee a third time. Blows the steam off it a second time. And waits.

Lulu's fingers worry over a spot on the table that has an unusual if easly unnoticed defect and worry at it relentlessly. "Oh? I just blew into town less than a year ago. Last summer with the Convoy that came through. I didn't know the winter would be so cold or long." She admits to Kat as she turns her black gaze to Six. "Spare pair? Wow! Useful. I only have the one pair." She points at her own eyes as if to make a point and nearly sticks her finger in her own eye. Thankfully her hand flutters away at the last moment and lands back on the table. "I work at a Laundromat some evenings, and a second hand store most days." She must be hungry because she leans to the side and lifts her arm, and starts chewing on the sleeve of her sweater. She's left a smear of iridescent powder behind on the table where her hand had brushed. The quirky green girl's gaze falls on Kat for her answer, or she's just staring through Kat and into the wall.

"Probably just missed you. I come and go," is the explanation Kat settles on for any lack of prior meeting, and probably, this is just a matter of taking the simplest answer as the most likely. "Fortunes and such, readings of omens of good or ill, as fate may choose to present them." Despite her previously on-edge appearance and somewhat skittish disposition, this is said with a certain measure of solemn resolution, a duty she clearly takes quite seriously. "Or, that's the usual kind that people want, that I do most often. There are many kinds of seeing, though. I'm one of the Watchers." Who do sound like the sort of people who would prioritize seeing things! And this makes her remark, perhaps in a rare show of good humor and friendliness, "Maybe your extra eyes would make you good at that." All of this said, she notes Lulu's odd appetite. "Do you need more salad?"

"One pair is all most people need. I have a few," Six replies. And his current pair watch Lulu's hand, fingers getting awfully close to her eye; head tilting a little, until at the penultimate moment her fingers divert, lowering. "Two jobs. Do you have time for spare time? Aside from today, I mean," he asks. Head still a little tilted, watching as Lulu chews her sweater; checking on the staff, through the slot to the kitchen with a glance away from the booth. He finally takes a sip off his coffee when he returns his attention to his company. "I came and went," Six says to Kat, in turn, taking equal responsibility. Brown eyes on her, now, as she explains her readings. "Wicked," he says, in assessment. "That's a cool gift. Fascinating. I'll try not to pry, more than you'll let me. Pokers and proders can get annoying. Ones other than me, anyway." He chuckles at the mention of extra eyes. Smiles warmly. Doesn't state the function of his eyes, however.

Lulu hmms, "What?" The slightly damp sleeve edge pops from her crooked little smile and she shakes her head looking towards the cooks who are prepping her food. "No. No, some is enough. If I et too much I'll get fat and then I'll never catch her." She admits as she draws her legs up, folding herself to a resting position that makes her less of a target. "one and a half, the Laundromat job is really just me collecting lost items at the end of the day and refilling the quarter machines and sometimes calling maintenance. I have plenty of time for spare time. I have hobbies similar to what Kat does, the moon brings me dreams." And her salad arrives and Lulu beams at the waitress, taking her drink and the cup of sugar and pours half the cup of sugar into the tea trying not to loose too much of the liquid in the process. She doesn't dress the walnut salad and greens, just pushes off the grape tomatos and starts munching on the leafy greens with a dopey smile.

"Well, if you're friends, then my services are yours," and Kat intones this last word with a certain emphatic stress, her gaze fixing on Six's, but moving to Lulu next (assuming she's not off in la-la land), "as they are for others. So it is not to pry, but to ask. Though for certain things an exchange may be required." A girl's gotta eat. "Will you be a Watcher too, then?" she inquires of the declared dreamer. "We watch both things. The signs of fates, for it foretells the dark that comes, and the world of dreams, for it is often the first avenue by which they arrive. I do not have much talent in that, but it is valued." If there is any oddity in the mostly-sugar tea, the more milk than coffee drinker does not comment!

"Who needs catching enough to diet for?" Six asks, without missing a beat. As the waitress drops off the food, he sticks to mortal concerns. "You get to keep anything left behind long enough?" he asks. And once the waitress is gone, food presented, he remarks, "Interesting hobbies. If dreams gave me more questions than answers, I don't think sleep would feel like rest." He takes another sip from the coffee, darker than his milk chocolate eyes. "Though I wouldn't mind hearing about a more restless dream or two." "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you," Six says to Kat. Meeting her gaze. "And if you need my kind of services, same goes," he offers. Though he hasn't said what it is that he does, just yet. Yet another sip and he sets the cup back down.

Lulu laughs, "Naw. I'm not very reliable when ti comes to watching things. I just see things that can be. Sometimes I forget. And then there it is again. it's like Deja Vu, only better, because I know that I've seen it before. I forget easy, oh..oh.. I should do this before I forget to remember." She stops eating her salad, mid bite, nevermind that pesky piece of kale tucked into one cheek. She pulls out her phone and whispers into it. "Six has many eyes and is the new Model. Kat is a Watcher Cat, and probbly wont eat us." She glances towards Cat and then whispers again into her phone. "Probably." She clicks the button and puts it away before cooing in delight at her salad still being in front of her. Once more she chews on it. "Dreams are easy if you direct them." She lifts a sindly hand and flutters it about as if conducting an orchestra. To Six she asks, "What are your services again?"

The process of phone-whispering is regarded with some mild curiousity, and no commentary, in the affirmative or negative, is offered on the odds of anyone being eaten. "They can be easy," Kat does agree, in smaller part. "If you make them so. But they can become terrible, if others make them so." Yet she doesn't push any further beyond that, as Lulu demures. Surely, Kat's not a rolemodel for active civil engagement herself, more like the bare minimum of sane involvement. Though she too glances at Six with a certain curiousity, as what he has said of himself so far is rather more vague. "Do you have plans, of this sort? To serve or not serve?"

Six turns his curiosity back on Lulu as she explains. And as she whispers into her phone. Same slight tilt to his head, but something like pleasant amusement arching his brow and curling his lips. "The best model," he corrects her. "I drink a lot of coffee. Anyone planning to eat me should carry tums," he adds, afterward. He doesn't press about the one who needs chasing, yet; but does answer the question that follows. "I find things out. Sometimes I just find things. Or people. Mysteries, investigations, and particularly puzzling puzzles," he says. After a beat, "Odd jobs when those things don't pay." He does more listening than speaking on the matter of prophetic dreams. His gaze flitting between Lulu and Kat. He nods at Kat's questions. Than shrugs at those same questions. "My services are open to the hold. Not sure there's an official station that suits it. But I've never needed a badge, title, or fancy hat before."

Lulu oh's and picks up her phone nodding to herself and clicking the recording feature on her phone again, "The best model." She sets the phone aside again and picks up another leaf with her fingers and pops it in her mouth with a walnut. "Dreams are fickle things." She agrees with a little crunch on a walnut and a slow thoughtful chewing process begins as a stream of cars drives by catching Lulu's dark gaze. "Oh. So you're a Dic?" She wonders looking back to Six with a grin. "Like Magnum P.I.!" She looks towards Kat, "Like Magnum. Without the shiny moustaches. I also have no title! But .. It's not really a surprise. But if you have trouble with your dreams I can help. Sort of. Kind of. Well.. once and a while really."

"I... don't know what? Who? That is." Someone doesn't watch a lot of classic TV! Still, once the other two have both arrived at something of the same topic, Kat is able to address them both without much weaving back and forth (which is a blessing, surely!) "Well, I don't really have a fancy title. But the... groups?" She frowns and looks puzzled a moment, as if searching for a better word. She comes up blank. "Groups, they're sort of, hmm teams, for doing certain sorts of things. The Waykeepers greet, you met them. The Watchers watch. The Harvestmen guard. Some people join a lot of them." She waves a hand, as if brushing off this notion for now. "I don't really want to be in charge of anything, either, but they're a good way to organize who can do what, I guess. Just good to know about, even if you're not for joining."

Subtle nod. Best model. Six smirks for the correction. He fits his hand around his mug, now stationary on the table, not bothering to lift it again as the steam wears off from the top. He blinks at the title Lulu's question carries, but catches on quick enough this time, with the brown eyes. "Not the licensed sort. But, yeah," he admits. "I've never seen Magnum P.I., but I think I know enough about it to say 'close enough'." He turns out to be a little more familiar than Kat, at least. He bows his head a little, accepting the offer of services if needed, "Same to you. For mysteries and the like. Less once and awhile, more constantly; I prefer having more rather than less to work on." "I'm up for joining. Where I fit. I might fit a couple of those, or none of them. Hard to say," he says in reply to Kat's explanation. "Most likely the Harvestmen. But sometimes guarding means standing in one place for a long time and looking mean."

Lulu is listening while she eats. When she isn't distracted by sudden flashing lights or other random pretty thing that catches her eye and has her staring out the window. "Well, Magnum was like the best. So close is pretty good, you know?" She bobs her head and her hair flutters about her in a warm Autumn breeze. "I guess maybe though I should look into meeting more people to see if I fit in to any of those. I think I was supposed to meet people but then they don't send out reminders like doctors do and I forget." She lifts her tea, finally, now that it's cooled to a nice thick syrup consistancy and chugs the whole glass.

The TV talk goes perfectly over Kat's head, so she studiously ignores it. "Where you fit, if it suits," she will echo, seemingly agreeing on that sort of philosophy for figuring it all out. Lulu seems to rate a more nuanced, or contemplative discussion of the topic. "I think everyone who has been in the Freehold for long is in one or two at least, so it shouldn't be hard to find someone to speak with. So you don't need to remember anyone in particular, just ask around, probably, and they can tell you a bit about it or point you at the right person." Cutting down barriers to entry, or the necessity for scheduling and appointment notices. "Though... I don't know if we," and she must mean her own little clique, "Even have anyone in charge right now." This realization seems to perplex and and annoy her slightly.

"Flattery. I'm a fan," Six says, after Lulu's comparison of him to 'like the best'. A return to that warm smile. A moment to just watch as she takes to putting away the cup of syrup-thick tea. His grip tightens around his own cup of coffee, at its natural liquid consistency. His brow furrows, too young for many lines to form out of that particular countenance. That easy, warm smile starts to retreat. He closes his eyes for a moment. Maybe two. His coffee sits, colder by the minute. When he opens his eyes again, they're blue once more, like a tropical sea. His posture now, still relaxed, but somehow more rigid in the sense that he's almost entirely still. Less languid, more stationary. He looks to his cup. To the book and newspaper. Across to Lulu and sidelong to Kat. "Are we late passing things off to Spring? Or is Charlie O still in charge?"

Lulu shivers, "What an awful word. Flattery." She sniffs and looks mildly horrified when Six says he's a fan. Maybe it's the word's similarity to 'flattening' that has the little bug on guard. "I suspect I'll meet more people, I mean, I should meet the right people I suppose. Customers don't offer much of a social life." She reaches up under her sweater to itch at the back of her shoulder and then wipes the iridescent dusty residue on her skirt. She seems curious as to Kat's answer to Six's question; the fluffy headed green girl isn't completely ignorant just sort of fidgity and flakey. However Kat's answer seems to interest her enough that she's ignoring her undressed salad.

Kat is, as she's claimed and now proved, not really much of a political maven, so her answer is perhaps not as inclusive or informative as might be desired by the pair. "I... don't know?" She looks a tad sheepish at this. "Well, I mean, I don't know about the weather, anyway, or what exactly the season is... doing, as a thing itself. Or the crown. What it's thinking, if it thinks or follows weather reports or reads about groundhogs and shadows." That's a bit of pop culture she HAS heard of! "I mean, the current King is still King, yes. I suppose we'll see soon if it's another twirl 'round the usual list of suspects or if otherwise might happen."

"Only when the flattery is false. If you say things that make people feel good about themselves, and that thing is true; what's the harm?" Six asks Lulu in return. He might not have followed the right path, on why it might be an awful word. "What kind of social life would you prefer?" His voice is as even as when they met. A little more distant; detached, even. Like he's making small talk from the back seat of a cab. He takes a sip of coffee, lifting the now lukewarm cup to his lips. "It'll be the first change of hands since I got back," he admits, to potentially interesting changes ahead. "Makes it particularly interesting. For me, at least. Hoping I'll get to see it happen. Or the announcement that follows."

Lulu's too-big black eyes linger on Kat and she shifts her weight a little. She's still moving, each little twitch an tweak following the next almost in succession. It's like she can't really sit still. "Well it's not time yet is it? The twentieth is the Vernal Equinox this year. On the last quarter moon. She'll be shy this year." She tuts and then looks back towards Six her features falling into a vacant little oh. "No harm I suppose, it's just such a weird word. Like M..no. I promised no more of that." The pale lunar Autumn considers, "I would like a social life where there is dancing, napping and salad and maybe just a little getting high." Her humble desires make her sigh a little whistfully.

Kat bobs her head in a quick agreement with Lulu's calendar-related skills. "True enough." At this point, it seems like she's out of sandwich and out of further conversation topics, it seems, and so finally she pulls herself up (at least from her prior strange position) and turns her head to look toward the exterior of the booth... only to somewhat distressingly find that Six is still there. "Um. I think I am going to head back home now. So..." The nervousness has already returned. Yet, remembering her manners, she does offer, "It was nice meeting both of you. I'm sure I'll see you around, and if you need any help settling in with other people or would like a reading, I'd be happy to help."

Six must be surprised by Lulu's mind for the passing of seasons, because his inquisitive blue eyes turn to her for a time; assessing as he had when she entered, after slamming into the window. "That sounds like it should be right," he admits. But his lack of tonal shift since going from brown to blue betrays little in the way of feeling. Arched brow for the unspoken word. Noting Kat's predicament with her address, he slips out of the booth, stands, leaving his coffee behind and letting her pass. "I'll have a number to trade with you, next time. Hopefully," he says in reply. And back to Lulu, "I'm not sure if much dancing gets done in a city this small. But that last thing - I might have contacts," he tells her. Taps his nose with a finger from the hand not on the cup. A sideways glance for diner staff. "Depending on what you're looking for."

Lulu lifts a last dark leafy green to her mouth and chews though she lifts one fluttery long fingere hand to wfinger wave at Kat. "It was nice to keet you, Kat! If I need anything watched I'll be sure to let you know first. Be safe! It's a night for owls." She munches away on the leaf and it slowly dissapears between her lips. This is about the time she meets Six's once more bue gaze and she just stares at it unblinking as she chews. Well it's not really eye contact so much as while he studies her she stares at his eyes, not in them, at them. "Oh? You do! That's great! I would love to have your contacts! What I'm looking for I don't think I can get but there are things that make me feel like I'm on the moon. That'll do!" The bug eyed green girl displays another dimple-speckled smile.

Freedom! Once liberated, Kat takes little time in staging her retreat, scurrying out through the vacated path. Still, she pauses at the boothside instead of merely running away, turning back toward the group and offering a fleeting smile. "I do think they dance, small town folks, though sometimes in it's barns instead of discos. Though they did open a disco in the city. If you're looking, anyway." All of this sounds very serious commentary on available entertainments and not just some joke at the local expense. Plus, she makes the disco opening sound like a modern happening. "Anyway, bye!" And off she goes.