Log:The French Connection

The French Connection
Participants Saturna Desrochers, Seven	17 May, 2018 Seven, smelling food, wanders into a cafe and joins Saturna. Initial beast mode on, he finds himself turning more and more human as she treats him just as he is one - and he's quite surprised to realise he speaks French, the two having a chat in that language.
Location
============-< << Crossroads Cafe - Restaurant >> >-============ From the outside, the Crossroads Cafe is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of place. A long white brick building, with green-and-white striped awnings and a simple black-letter free-standing sign reading CROSSROADS, this diner could almost be mistaken for a low-rent church by the unobservant; a distinctly modest-looking place whose only appeal is big windows. The same cannot be said for what's inside. Push past the glass door and the the tiny entry, and along one wall near the hostess station one sees some of the amusements and occupations for Crossroads patrons: crayons and paper for the kids, puzzles and board games in a stack available for the eaters, and multiple copies of the daily paper. They're the first choice to make before one takes a seat and finds the extensive menu, rivaled only by the revolving dessert case nearby to tempt those leaving. The squishy green vinyl booths along the big windows seat six, and are lucky enough to have tiny jukeboxes sitting on the tables. The tables are a series of two-toppers with sturdy metal chairs and benches that can be rearranged for different seating. Ceiling fans rotate lazily and their lights are warm; the floors are battered hardwood. The kitchen area is mostly obscured behind a low wall, but a large cutaway window near the back of the diner is where the waitstaff can communicate with the hardworking cooks. There's a green-painted door near that rear kitchen area that leads to some sort of back room. Saturna is tucked into one of the big booths along the windows-- and slid alllll the way in so she can lean on the window and watch the street! Pale dreadlocks are loose around her shoulders, and brown-lensed aviators sit next to a cup of coffee on the table. A menu still lingers, so clearly she hasn't ordered anything. Seven left the wayhouse. He still has no shoes but isn't trouble by this. Other people seem to be though because the hulking giant that pads down the street, sniffing the air and smelling food, does garner a lot of odd looks. But, the malicious glares he gives anyone coming too near makes them hurriedly move on. He finds the source of the tantalizing smells and enters the cafe. He stops near the door and stares at the place with equal parts suspicion and obvious hunger. Saturna happened to be facing the right direction, and the sound of a door opening and closing grabbed her attention, anyway. It took her a moment, really, of eyeing up Seven before she spoke, because really? There was a lot to take in. "I have a menu, if you want to look.." Holding the object out towards Seven a little, because it seemed like he might want some food. It speaks somewhat of the village when most only casts a glance at Seven - they're used to the weird around here. And someone big without shoes - hardly the first one. Seven's brown eyes focus on the woman, and the stare is suspicious for a lingering moment before he moves the few steps needed to snatch that menu out of her hand and look down at it even as he takes a seat opposite of her, not having been invited. And to make things worse, he leans over the table and sniffs at her - not right in her face or anything, but he's clearly /smelling/ her. Saturna smells of a few things, really. Mortality, fresh lumber.. Likely the coffee she's been consuming. Sandalwood floats gently over it all, from soap or perhaps a lightly used perfume. A bit of unease, as well, underlying it all when he leaned over to -smell- her. "..I'm Saturna." Apparently deciding not to be rude, and take his joining her in the best stride she could. To his credit, that's all he does, despite the menacing aura around him. He scratches at his bearded jaw, leaning back to stare at her. "Seven," he says, voice coarse and raspy, like he hasn't spoken in ages. That's all he says for now, studying her as he starts digging out some crumbled bills and coings from pockets; those clothes lookf fairly new, oddly enough. But they're already starting to be stained, like he doesn't care about them at all. The money is dumped on the table and he looks at them. Looks at the menu. He can afford a burger, looks like. Saturna says, “..The burgers here are good." Startled just slightly at the realization that maybe he couldn't read? and definitely not wanting to assume. "I've eaten here a few times since I got into town." She's just a little out of her element, a little unsure of herself and the situation. She sips her coffee, glancing out the window and then back to Seven. "It's probably what I'm going to have." Seven turns a squint at her now. He seems to find her responses soothing and calming because he relaxes noticeably, sinking down further on his seat and studying her with that open stare still. Most people don't just stare like that at others. He grunts, nods at her and pushes the money her way, and points towards a waitress that moves around; like he wants her help ordering for him. Then he leans over the table again on his arms and looks pointedly at her mug of coffee. Saturna says, “You don't talk much, do you?" Gently said, and a bit more quietly. Almost introspective, more than a direct question. She nods, and she gathers up the money to shove it into a pocket for now. The waitress likely saw their glances (and his pointing), because she was soon making her way over with a carafe of coffee. "We'll each have a burger, and a coffee for Seven, here." She smiles, waiting for the woman to pour a fresh coffee and top up Saturna's, before speaking again. "Have you been around here long?"” There's a shrug, in answer. Maybe to prove a point. He avoids looking at the waitress and stares out the window instead when he gets his coffee - like he'd rather not startle the woman, perhaps. When she's gone, he looks back at Saturna from under some hair that falls in his face; he could use a brush to that hair, but it doesn't look dirty. Just unkempt, like he might've washed it but not bothered brushing it. "No," he admits. He's quiet for an uncomfortable moment before he remembers that he should probably elaborate. "Two days." His stare is less malicious now. More curious, eyebrows rising at her in a silent question - what about her? Saturna says, “Less than a week. Four or five days?" Unsure, as if she hadn't really been keeping track. The unease is fading now, though, drifting more towards curiousity. He clearly wasn't aggressive or malicious, like first impressions had given her to believe. There was still something about him that had her instincts a bit wary, but nothing really in the forefront of her mind. "I came for a change of scenery, and to get to know a part of my family we'd fallen out of touch with.” "I don't know why I am here," Seven says suddenly, running fingers through his hair to comb it away from his face. His accent is curiously enough British. "I just wandered this way and here I am." This is more words than he's said so far, and two whole sentences, even. His voice is still as coarse, however - it contrasts with that typical British tang. Sharply he looks up as the waitress arrives with their burgers; they're quick with getting the food out, here, and their orders were simple. He is impatient for her to set it down and barely lets the plate touch the table before he grabs the burger and tears the wrapping away so he can take a huge bite. Saturna says, “I'm sure you'll figure it out. Some times we just need to get away from a situation to really find outselves." A little one-shouldered shrug at that, probably having no idea how well she hit that nail on the head. Her own accent is lightly French, though not the France-French Seven might vaguely remember. She's far slower about digging into her burger, but she doesn't ask any more questions for now-- letting him eat in peace, or maybe letting him lead the conversation to keep him comfortable with it.” The surprise on his face is obvious - she did hit the nail on the head. It gives him pause around his mouthful; he's got food half hanging out of his mouth as he squints at her. He grunts in agreement and then continues chewing, swallowing down half that burger in just a few bites. He seems content to eat in quiet too, and let her eat without being disturbed. Those brown eyes dart about often though - everytime someone speaks a bit louder, or when the door opens, he looks to see what is going on. Like an alert animal. It only takes him about a minute to finish his food - did he even chew? - and he leans back and holds the mug of coffee in one hand, sipping it with odd delicacy; his hands are huge. "Francais. Vous parlez Francais?" he asks suddenly. He looks surprised about this. Like he didn't know he knew French. The smile that curved her lips at his use of French was bright and happy. It had only been days, but she clearly missed it. "Oui! Je parle Francais. Vous aussi?" Asking if he actually spoke or just knew the few words, really. A lot of people she'd met knew a few phrases, but not much more. Once the food was vanquished, she slouched back in the booth a bit and sipped her coffee. Content, and happy to linger and chat. "Oui," Seven says - he still seems surprised. He slurps more of the coffee, drinking it black and clearly enjoying the taste. Like he's not had a mug for ages. He continues in French - in fact, it seems almost easier for him to speak this language. "I learned it in France, many many years ago," he reminisces, gaze growing distant for a moment. The Rs roll easily off his tongue, and he speaks it almost fluently - but there's definitely an accent, so it's not his native language. "I guess I never forgot it. You? You don't sound French." Saturna says, “I'm from Quebec, not France." It was definitely her native language, given the ease and flow to her words. "I've heard our French is different, to the point we call it Quebecois." Two dialects of the same language, really. Enough that they could easily understand each other, but there were definite differences in how it was spoken. "I've never been to France, but I'd like to, some day."” "Canada." Seven nods once in understanding. "The allies." He doesn't elaborate on this, it's just said as a side-note mostly for himself, another memory in his beastial brain. But all these memories, they start to coalesce into a whirlwind - he starts rubbing his temple. He sets the mug down and shakes his head, like trying to get rid of it all. When he looks back up at her, having slumped for a moment, that wildness is back. The sly, cunning maliciousness and coldness returns. "I have to go," he rasps at her, back to English - he stands up, hands flexing and unflexing restlessly. Saturna nods, and.. just watches. The unease returns, and when he says he has to go there's very little hesitation. "I'm sure I'll see you again? It was good to meet you, Seven." Good, yes, but she didn't seem to mind him leaving now that all that original.. -weight- was back. "Be safe." Seven's eyes gleam a bit as he looks at her now. But he nods - he seems sure they will meet again. "I can smell you, now," he tells her - a not very comforting parting sentence perhaps. He sniffs the air one more time, grins a slow toothy grin at her and then turns to stalk out, oddly quiet when he walks despite his size.