Difference between revisions of "Log:Lucky Comes to Town"

April 21, 2017

In the middle of the night, a bus rolls into town, depositing one new Dawn Courtier at the local Diner. Inside, he meets either the local welcome wagon, or the local muscle. Maybe a bit of both. Later, they're joined by a mechanical owl, and discuss the nature of luck.

The Crossroads Cafe, middle of the night.

Tamarack Falls isn't exactly a huge town. So when a bus shows up in the middle of the night, and off of it steps one random stray, it's probably gonna get noticed, if you're the type that notices such things. And, like most small towns, just about everything is closed at this time.

Except, of course, for the Diner. Which is probably why the bust tends to stop there in the first place. So it's probably not a great surprise when the stranger shoulders his duffel bag and heads on inside, pushing open the doors into the light, and relative warmth, of the local eatery.

Sliding into one of the booths, he grabs a menu, politely ordering coffee as he looks it over curiously, stomach letting out an audible growl at some of the pictures. It was apparently a long journey, wherever it is he came from.

Into the diner comes Eden, a little sway to her step, and a bit of a blush thanks to the alcohol she's no doubt been imbibing previously in the night. She takes a few steps in, gaze slowly wandering the room before settling on the curious Lucky with a little smile forming upon her lips as she heads further in, "Long trip, handsome?" she asks with a little glance cast as she nears the booth he has settled in.

Lucky looks up at the voice of the stranger, offering her a bit of a smile -- even as he visibly tenses. "Something like that," he tells her in return, gesturing to the seat across from him as he sets the menu to the side. "More like 'slow trip'," he explains. "Bus ended up breaking down. Twice. It was the damndest thing. Luckily," he explains, "the problem turned out to be an easy fix, once that tow truck showed up out of nowhere."

The waitress brings his coffee, and he nods his thanks politely. Reaching for the sugar, he asks, "You want some coffee? Don't know that I can afford much more, but coffee I can manage. Assuming you don't drnk it black," he says teasingly. "People need to leave room for a little joy in their lives."

"That's quite the series of events." Eden says as she moves to slide into the bench opposite him at the booth, grinning faintly. "Are your trips normally so plagued by fickle fortune? Or just this one? And Coffee would be lovely, cream and sugar."

Lucky shrugs, offering her a faint grin. "Sometimes," he answers. "Sometimes, things go really smoothly. It's always kind of a crapshoot," he tells her in return. "Might have gone a little smoother if the driver weren't such an asshole. He didn't go in for an oil change, so the company made him pay for it out of pocket. But the nice lady in front, who was telling me about how she wasn't sure how she was gonna pay for her mom's surgery? Managed to hit a winning lottery ticket while the bus was broken down," he adds. "Guess things balanced out in the end."

He gives another nod to the waitress, confirming Eden's order and that it's going on his check, before asking the woman, "So, are you the local welcome wagon, then? The local muscle? Or just a stranger in a diner?"

"Somewhere inbetween." Eden says with that same warm smile resting easily upon her lips, her backside scooting down deeper into the booth to lean up against the wall. "I can probably put you in touch with the people who you'd want to meet though, if that's what you're looking for."

"Ahh," Lucky says, smile growing a little wider as a little bit of mischief creeps over his face. "But who says I'm looking to meet anyone particular? Maybe I'm just passing through?" The coffee gets slowly stirred, sugar dissolving easily in the steaming liquid. "Doesn't exactly seem like a hopping place. I mean, the company's fine, but I think they rolled up all the sidewalks a few hours back. Kind of inconvenient. Besides," he says, "who would I even be looking for at this time of night? It'll be dawn in a few hours."

"I mostly stay in the city myself." Eden says with a little shrug of her shoulders at Lucky, flashing a slight grin, "But I had to come out here to work on the menu at my friends bar across the way." She explains, "And I happened to drink a bit more then I should to make it back home. But, if you are just passing through, I wouldn't linger around too long, but if you plan to stay I'll introduce you to a friend."

Lucky nods slowly, sipping at his coffee as he listens to what the woman says. "Did you get the menu sorted out?" he asks warmly. "Might have to give that one a try tomorrow, if I can make it back out this way. Depends on how the night goes." Though he does finally lean back, relaxing a bit. "Last time someone introduced me to a 'friend', it was in the Scarface sort of way. Hopefully this introduction is at least a little less like that."

Eden offers out a bubbly little laugh at that, "That depends on how interesting I find you, I suppose, doesn't it?" she says with a little grin across the booth, "And it's at the Cyclone, it should be a nice little meal, I think. But you'll have to try it for yourself."

"The Cyclone," Lucky says, chuckling in return. "Sounds like a nice, peaceful sort of place. I'm sure I'll love it." The waitress comes back with Eden's coffee, setting it down, along with a bowl of those little creamers arranged in that nice flowery pattern that diners in small towns are quick to do. "And if the bar is 'interesting', well, I've already lost," he tells the woman in no way seriously. "Definitely a wet blanket."

Eden reaches for a couple packs of sugar which she shakes, then tears open and pours into her coffee, followed by a couple creamer packs, which go in as well, and she reaches into a little clutch purse she's carrying and pulls out a something else, which she sprinkles into the cup as well. "Wet blanket huh? That's too bad. I always like my bedding dry."

"Don't go camping in the summer then," Lucky tells her in return. "Doesn't tend to end with anyone dry." He eyes the menu again, picking it up and flipping through it. "Let's see. I think I can probably swing some toast for us, if you're hungry. Maybe an omelette, or some pancakes. Cake. If you're not afraid of sharing. This place might be a little too rich for my blood." Still, he slips a five out of his pocket, setting it under the creamer. The man might be broke, but he doesn't skimp on tips.

"Why don't I buy you pre breakfast then, if you're so down on your luck?" Eden offers, "Whatever you want." She says with a little gesture, "I'll take a piece of chocolate cake myself." She lifts her coffee up to her lips, taking a sip from it, "So, what usually gets people wet when camping in the summer?"

"Heat," Lucky tells her in return, sipping his coffee as he studies the woman. The cat ears haven't gone unnoticed, of course. It's not like he's not got some noticable features, either, when you can see through the Mask. "And there's no such thing as a free lunch," he tells her in return. "Or in this case, pre-breakfast. What'll it cost me?" Still, he's smiling. It's not a 'no'. But this one is apparently careful about accepting gifts from strangers.

"Oh, that's not usually what gets me wet camping in the summer." Eden says with a little hmmn and a shrug of her shoulders, that little smile creeping back, "And if you want a cost attached to the meal, why don't you make me an offer then?"

Lucky just smiles. "How about we just stick with coffee for now," he replies easily. "I'd hate to get in over my head less than an hour of my feet hitting the dirt. My luck hasn't been what it normally is lately. Thanks for the offer, though," he tells the woman, apparently sincerely. "Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, it'll be my turn to buy you something, and then you can politely refuse too."

"Well, if you insist." Eden says with a shrug of her shoulders, "I'm still going to get my pie though." She lifts a hand to wave towards the waitress, ordering a triple chocolate fudge explosion pie. "So, what's your name, handsome?"

"Lucky," he answers easily. "Yeah, I know." As if it were some kind of glorious inside joke. "And by all means, pie away. Who'm I to come between a girl and her chocolate? I'm pretty sure that's a crime in at -least- twenty seven countries, though I hear the U.N. is thinking about adding 'acquisition of chocolate' to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights."

"I hope they do." Eden says with a nod of affirmation at the man, "And nice to meet you Lucky, I'm Eden, it's a pleasure to meet you, even if you are cagey about accepting diner food."

"Oh, no, diner food is fine. It's accepting candy from strangers that aren't offering me free rides in the panel van," he says with a little shrug. "What can I say, some habits are hard to break. Though it's nice to meet you too, Eden. Even if you're pretty evasive on whether you're here to help or try and break my kneecaps," he says, tone gently teasing.

A tall slender fellow wearing a well cut suit and an expressive hairstyle enters the Crossroads with a curious gaze, his strange eyes rove over the scene with interest before making note of the boardgames and newspapers near the exit. Strix picks up one each of the various choices of newsprint, stacking the papers in his arms and drifting off quietly to select a large booth despite being a single diner. If he has to he'll lie and say he's meeting more people to ensure he can secure himself a big booth.

Once seated, Strix starts to set out the papers with a persnickety manner; folding them neatly and making crisp corners set at ninety degree angles. Quietly stacking things and reading them when a server arrives he orders a coffee, "To start." And then sets back to his work picking apart newspapers.

"Well, I mean, if you come with good intentions, of course you'll be met in kind, Lucky." Eden says, the two are sitting at a booth together, Eden looking possibly a bit inebriated. There is coffee before them, and the waitress brings over a big piece of chocolate pie which is placed infront of the woman.

Lucky's sitting cross from Eden, a rather large duffel bag in the seat next to him. It's old and worn, and practically bursting at the seams. But it seems functional. "Why would anyone admit to coming with bad intentions?" he asks in turn. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it'd save everyone an awful lot of time, and frankly I encourage it, but I don't see that being the hip new trend of the summer or anything." Though as the besuited man passes them, so many periodicals in hand, he looks over his shoulder, scooting up on his knees in the booth so that he can talk to the newcomer. Turning so that his knees are in the booth, he looks over the back, asking the stranger, "Mind if I borrow those when you're done?" Apparently, he's not the shy sort.

Strix ruffles when he is addressed by the stranger and the crest atop his head rises in mild alarm as he looks back over his shoulder with a dour expression. "I've only just sat down.." Strix says and the wry cadence in his deadpan inflection carries only mild sarcasm and a New England accent. "It will be some time..." He mrrs softly and goes to turn back to his work. "I am very thorough.." He blinks then as he turns more fully in the booth having spotted Eden from the corner of his left eye. The telescopic gold lenses whirs down to a pinpoint as he smiles with a polite regard, "Lovely seeing you again so soon, Dame."

Eden flashes a toothy little grin at Strix, "Lovely to be seen by you!" She says, patting the bench beside her, "Come, sit with me and Meet Mr. Lucky." She says, indicating the gentleman opposite her, "He's brand new in town, just rode in on the bus this very night."

"That's cool," Lucky tells him in return. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." Taking that as a 'yes', he turns back around, plopping down in the booth again just as the other two start to talk, smiling as Eden invites the mechanical crested man to sit with them. Glancing back over the booth briefly, he says, "I don't bite or anything. Come on over." Because that's reassuring.

"Oh." The Dusk turns and looks back at the intricate paper pile he was creating by folding all that newprint -just- so and stacking it in corresponding catagories. He sighs and shuffles everything together in a neat stack with a put-upon demeanor as he made sure to keep things in some sort of order only he would ever understand, "Right then, kind of you to offer." Still sounding monotone he gets up and makes quick work of sliding in beside Eden and setting his papers down just so- at a ninety degree angle to the corner of the table.

"Mr. Lucky is it?" Strix asks with a quiet nod and his strange mismatched eyes move out of time from one another, the mechanical one flicks over Lucky's features with sharp shutters from the gold lens. "Strixton Nebulosa, pleased to make your aquaintance." There is a pause and his coffee arrives as the waitress soon find him at the next table with a simple wave from the man. He goes on to ask, curious to a fault, "What makes you lucky?"

Already angled a little against the back corner of the booth, Eden shifts once Strix joins her, moving to drape her legs across his lap completely univited, and lean fully against the wall, reaching for her pie, and her fork next and taking a piece of it, depositing pie into her mouth and chewing it down before asking, "Yeah, what makes ya Lucky?"

Lucky smiles as the mechanical man joins them, sipping at his coffee while Eden apparently makes herself comfortable across him, nodding his... approval? Nodding, at least. "My charming good looks and personality. Obviously. What else could it possibly be?" Though he does make a point to at least glance at the headlines of the papers Strix has arranged so very carefully, scanning them quickly.

Strix looks down and shoulder shuffles with a birdish displeasure as there are legs draped over his lap, "Careful there, birds of prey can get violent when they feel restrained." The soft spoken Owl says this is a muttered aside from the corner of his mouth to Eden. Strix looks back to Lucky and he clacks thoughtfully in the back of his throat, a sound not unlike the clacking of a beak, "Obvious observations perhaps but no more the answer to my question." His head ticks to the side with an Owlish regard, "Luck is by its very definiton ephemeral, based on chance, fleeting... if one were to truly understand a grasp on it. He'd be more manipulating chance than flirting with luck." Strix shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee, "I prefer logic."

Eden makes suprisingly quick work of her pie, mostly distracting her from Strix's displeasure at having her legs in his lap. She sets the plate down then starts scooting forward towards him, "Boys, I gotta go." She says matter of factly, scseeming intent on scooting up into Strix's lap, and across it on her way out of the booth, pausing upon his lap to tap his chest, "You, come find me later, I have something I want to give to you." She then looks towards Lucky, "And you, nice meeting you, and if you're good people maybe I'll make you breakfast instead of buying it for you sometime." She adds, then continues her rather unglamorous exit from the booth.

Lucky shakes his head. "Luck is what you make of it," he tells the other in turn. "I mean, sure, the cards might not come out your way, and the dice might turn up snake eyes once in awhile, but it's what you do with -that- that determines what kind of luck you have. Luck is what you make of it. Not the hand you're dealt. Chance just tells you whether you're starting from the top, or the bottom." But whatever he was going to say is suddenly cut off as Eden is scooting across the mechanical man, out of the booth, with promises (or threats, potentially) of breakfast. "Nice to meet you too," he tells the somewhat-inebriated woman, waving politely as she goes. "I'm sure we'll see each other around. I might even be good. We'll see."

Strix puffs up his narrow chest and shoulders when Eden shuffles across his lap in her unceremonious exit, he seemed content to let this occur without any snary remarks but then she has to go and chest poke him. He blinks at her, both eyes in tandem, "I never could say no to Mystery." He gives her a cheeky nod and a long strange considering look as she made her exit.

Finally, his attention swivels back to Lucky with a grin on as he listens to the man's explanation. "Cards can be counted and dice can be rigged but /real/ luck saves a man in more places than the game room."

"That's called 'skill'. Not luck. Real luck doesn't save men, it keeps them from having to be saved in the first place. The minute you need saving, luck isn't on your side anymore. The rest of it? That's you, whether you know it or not." Still, his tone is easy, accepting. It's a conversation, not an argument. "People don't really understand the difference until they look back later and realize what they actually did. Some of it could be instinct. Some of it could just be the outome of a choice they made. But none of it was luck."

With Strix, every conversation is a bit of a debate, "Real luck does not exist." Strix intones as if that were the end of the argument, "Or at least I have yet to accept it as we cannot quantify it... what you call luck is just more skill hidden in the guise of good fortune." The man is as unyeilding as metal but he still speaks with that conversational monotone, "Just came in on a bus?" Bits of earlier conversation, "Where'd you travel from?" There is something very cop-like about the way the suited man spoke without apology or conversational cues.

"See? We agree, then," Lucky tells the man, sipping at his coffee. Black, though it smells sweet, like too much sugar, if the man's nose is as keen as his eyes. "Real luck is just whatever you make of the situation that you're handed. Skill." When asked where he's coming from, though, the man answers back, "Narnia. Kansas. Same thing, really. You one of the natives?"

"I'd always thought the tree which grew the in The Magician's Nephew was in a courtyard in London." Strix says quite matter of fact when the mention of Narnia is made, "In fact I am rather certain that Uncle Andrew gave Polly the magic yellow ring which sends to the "Wood Between the Worlds." Strix is also sipping a black coffee as they speaks, "I believe Oz is the fictional reality more closely associated with your Kansas." There is a beat, "No, I am a wanderer but my bodyguard and I have sworn to this Freehold for the time being... What brings you here?"

At the mention of the word 'Freehold', Lucky looks around, ducking his head a bit. "Dude, you should... maybe not say that in public, yeah?" The elven-looking man shakes his head, frowning a little bit. "People could hear you. And if they hear -you-, they're gonna blame -me-. And I don't like getting blamed for stuff I didn't do. It's a pet peeve." Still, as no one seems to be coming for their heads, he relaxes a bit again, chewing on his lip. "And I'm here on business," he tells the man. "But I may end up staying a bit longer. It depends on how things shake out."

Strix laughs again at the truth evident in Lucky's statement, "It would be clairvoyance, wouldn't it." Rhetorical, he goes on with another bob of his head in thanks for the refill and a long sip from the coffee cup. Strix isn't eating anything yet if he was, his particular appetite does not require him to look at the menu. "I loathe a lack of preparation. There is always something you can do to ready yourself for the coming trials life is going to throw your way." Oh Dusk.

Lucky nods, sliding the menu away. Apparently he's not eating much right now either. "Sure, preparation is important," Lucky agrees. "But so is the ability to think on your feet, and roll with the punches. You can't plan for everything. If you could, you'd never face anything you couldn't beat. You'd know how the game is gonna go ahead of time. And there's that pesky clairvoyance again," he teases. "You can set up all the dominos, but sometimes, that one just doesn't fall the way you thought it would, and the whole thing goes off the rails."

"One can strive for perfection and never achieve it." Strix allows with a gracious little grin on and the gears in his face can be seen whirring to life as his expression is changed with a tickety-tock. "And while you can't plan for it you can prepare. Diligence, hard work and a hearty disposition to the cynical realities of the world's cold hard facts." Strix almost lilt as the subject matter goes from colloquial to macabre. "Dominos simply require a steady hand and a sound series of calculations... I fail to see how that is an accurate analogy. Every domino will fall if you plot the property trajectory and keep the materials equidistance throughout." Nod.

"Until the little breeze kicks up that you couldn't possibly have prepared for. Maybe the cat sneezes, or the radiator kicks on. Maybe the dump truck goes down the street a little too rough. That's the thing about preparation," Lucky counters. "'The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry'. Everything has the potential to change. Everything has the potential to go terribly, horribly wrong. Or right, in ways you couldn't possibly have hoped for." Because Dawn, naturally, has the exact opposite outlook. "Besides, what's the fun in being perfect? People forget that perfection is overrated. It means 'complete'. Which means 'unchanging'. Just a fancy way of saying 'stagnant and boring'."

"Perfection is the ultimate goal." Strix says but its more his mantra than an argument, he was slowly accepting that this conversation with the assumed Dawn wasn't going to get him anywhere but he was curious enough to continue with a genuine grin. His thin lips pull back into a wide face illuminating smile, "I don't suppose a man whose got all his parts is apt to understand the quest to be complete." There is a beat and the humor hits him after the fact, "Not.. not those parts." Clearing his throat and adding much more softly, a conspirator's whisper, "Other bits." The broken gears of his wing hinges flex with a creak. "But when those terrible things happen you persevere, we can agree on that at least. Head up and carry on."

Lucky nods, accepting that as well. "Perfection is a good goal. It's just not one you should really -hope- to achieve. At least, not until you're done with everything else," he adds. "Perfection is the very last thing. Once you're there, there's nothing left. It's kind of like death that way," he tells the clockwork man. Though he leans in, whispering equally conspiratorially, "But if you wanna talk about by various bits, I'm afraid I'll have to insist that you buy me something slightly more alcoholic than coffee. Do that, and we can talk about 'em all you want to."

"I'm afraid if I manage to find something akin to perfection I may be able to fly again..." Strix grins softly, "And when that sweet day comes again I can die a happy bird." The disgruntled hinges on his back crunch with rusty flecks falling away as they settle back into their stationary broken position with a mild wince from the Manikin. He laughs at the same time though as if to mask the sound of his own broken gears from himself, lacing his words with dark humor, "You aren't that lucky yet, Lucky." Raising his cup of coffee to the man, "But you do make me laugh. We gotta run you by my bodguard and see what she thinks of you..." The bird trills around the edge of his mug, "She vets all my dates. Its her job to keep me alive."

"Sounds less like a bodyguard, more like a parent," Lucky tells him in turn, smiling easily. "But, completely understandable. I'm sure that she'll disapprove. It's her job, after all." Though he listens to the man's other statement just as closely, turning it over. "Who knows? With a little work, and a little luck, you could, one of these days. If anyone can, I'm sure it's you. You seem like the type that figures things out."

There is no hiding the visible gold and silver in his design, most of the gears in his face whirl behind plexiglass windows, "Yes, well, preparations right? When you have a penchant for saying the right things in the wrong way and you walk around with a face worth its weight in silver..." The Owl trails off with a sheepish lopsided smirk, "You learn to rely on your trusted companions." Strix preens and sits up a bit with square shoulders when he is called the type who figures things out, quipping, "And you seem the type who is used to getting his way."

After a beat, "In the end, the mouse works for me, not the other way around." His Bodyguard is a mouse?

"Do I?" Lucky asks, in response to looking like he's used to always getting his way. "Huh. Weird." Still, he offers a little smile to the stranger across the table. "Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. Get to know me," he tells the other. "I think I might be able to change your opinion on that. Or maybe not." Looking at the clockwork, though, he says, "Some of us aren't really interested in silver and gold. There are more valuable things in the world." Though the mention of the mouse does make him grin a little bit. "You -know- how that sounds, right?"

Strix gives a shrug, "The opinions of others never were of much concern to me, also... part of why I have Tini around." She's the Watson to his bright and very broken Sherlock. "She keeps my informed of some my more glaring social faux pas." He watches Lucky and with a bit of mocking playful mimicy, "Maybe this, maybe that." A curt little laugh, "I can tell plenty from a glance but I'll get to know you... I just wonder.." A hand motion to recall the flipflopping mimicry from moments ago. "Do you know who you are?"

Lucky doesn't seem to take offense at the mimicry. If anything, his smile grows even wider. "Who am I? I hardly know, sir, just at present. At least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then," he answers, quoting one of the better known passages from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. "And sure, we can tell plenty from a glance. But a glance only goes skin-deep. Still waters, and all that."

"Oh." Strix said, looking absolutely delighted causing the ticking sounds his face was making to mount to a fever pitch. "Am I playing the caterpillar than..." His eyes tick to and fro as if he were reading smoky words in the air with and his hands grip the edge of the table with a playful fervor, "No, that's boring, I shan't ask you again two more times... let's see.." He lets his gaze fall back to Lucky as he recites, 'Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice; 'but when you have to turn into a chrysalis — you will some day, you know — and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?'" Without much pause for breath he adds in a tickled aside, "I do enjoy how Carroll wrote."

Lucky nods. "My mom used to read it to me when I was little. Every night. I think I can pretty much say it word for word, now," he tells the other man. "We didn't have a lot of books. But she had pretty good taste in them." He finishes his coffee, setting the cup to the side. "The man knew his stuff, that's for sure. And I think there's important lessons to be learned in it, after all. One of the things I remember the most is,"

'In my youth,' Father William replied to his son, 'I feared it might injure the brain; But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, Why, I do it again and again.'

"Something kind of liberating about that little poem," he says. "Makes you really think about the world."

"Wise words." Strix agrees with a bob of his head, he's prone to puzzles... word games like trading famous literary quotes over coffee in place of idle conversation. "But I'm still apt to attempt to keep my mind intact at all costs." He grins at the mention of having had only a few books, "I've always surrounded myself with books and I've even been known to memorize large volumes of information for the right reasons.." The right 'buyers' goes unspoken as he deigns not to delve in his Johnny Mnemonic sidejobs in any real detail.

"Wells has a quote that speaks to me more though, "Adapt or perish, now as ever, nature's inexorable imperative."

"I prefer Shaw. 'Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.'" Apparently, Lucky is well-read, even though he doesn't look the part in the slightest. He looks exactly like the sort of person most people would cross the street to avoid, in fact, in his Mien even moreso than his mortal guise. "Wells is good, though, if you don't mind the language of the time. Not an easy read, though." Still, he glances at the clock, eyeing the time. "This place closes in fifteen minutes," he tells the other guy, nodding to the sign by the door. "I shouldn't stay too much longer. Got a long trip, still."

Strix collects up the newspaper pile beside him, he still hadn't allowed Lucky to read them, "The only thing that changes a wise man's mind is logic. Reason." Strix finishes his coffee and lets out a short breathless little laugh as he slides out of the booth and takes to his feet leaving a ten on the table. "That one's mine." Strix tucks his wallet back away musing, "It was nice meet you but you're right, time for new sights and open skies.." He nods his head in an unspoken invitation to walk out together.

Lucky shakes his head, chuckling. "No. The only thing that changes a wise man's mind is coming to terms with the reality of being wrong. Logic and reason don't change minds. Logic and reason have been used to justify some of the most atrocious things in human history." Lucky sighs a bit at not getting to read the newspapers, but c'est la vie. There will be more in the future. "But I think that's a conversation for a different night, and maybe something other than coffee."

"Perhaps it is.." Strix agrees absently with a bob of his head as he moved to hold the door on their way out, "But now we're talking about semantics..." He trails off, allowing the argument to fade as he stepped out into the night without offering a number or point of contact.

Lucky just laughs, watching the man go. "It was nice to meet you too!" he calls after him, raising a hand as he shoulders his duffel bag again, turning and heading in the direction of the city, apparently in no great hurry.