It's a cold night in the Riverside district. It's the kind of cold that comes from high pressure
keeping the clouds high in the sky, a kind of crystalline frigidness that seeps into the bones if
one isn't careful about what they wear in this weather. Probably most of those wandering through the
park at this hour are cutting through it on their way home from bar hopping-- 2AM on a Sunday
morning is just about after last call-- but there are probably a few loonies wandering around the
park for no good reason at all.
Like this one: a crystalline, icy feminine figure in a trench coat, scarf and gloves who seems
awfully interested in the trees in the area. Her outfit is a bit too big city for this little city,
and also a little too light to fend off the cold. She doesn't seem particularly bothered by this,
though, and walks the path along the river, stopping every so often to examine a low hanging tree
branch. The plant life reacts to her a little oddly-- it doesn't look like many of the plants have
quite gotten the message it's spring yet, (and who can blame them considering the weather?) but the
few green shoots poking out bend a little toward her like they've gotten a full dose of sunlight.
It's pretty hard to tell that's happening considering the hour and lighting in the area, though.
It's been a fairly rough night, as far as Tai can tell. Because of that, and the fact that her mind
just can't get still enough for sleep, she's out walking at 2am. She's got on a pair of jeans, and
boots, and a thick wool coat worn closed to block out the chill that is still in the air despite the
fact that spring is officially here.
After the dance party, which she didn't dance at, Max decided to continue the party elsewhere. By
herself. Which may or may not have included doing more drugs. Hint, it totally did. When the
enchanted mortal is high, she loooooves being outside to experience things. Anything and everything.
Dressed casually as usual, she wears a jacket, hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, various shades of gray
and black to help her blend in should she need to. Her hair is worn down in loose curls and her
bright blue eyes are a bit bloodshot. A light smile lingers on her lips. As she's wandering along
through the park, she spots a familiar figure. She's naturally quiet as she starts to move closer to
Aneira, not intentionally sneaking up on her but her appearance could still be surprising
nonetheless. Once she's close enough, though, she greets the woman. "Hey! Another late night
wanderer, eh?" she questions as she approaches, offering a friendly grin when she catches the
woman's attention.
Indeed, late night in the park is the time for all kinds of oddballs to be out and about, the
traditional hours for shenanigans throughout history, even if nowadays we've graduated from witchery,
drunken revels and moonlit orgies... ok well, at least the -first- one is in decline. Mostly?
Several of the others seem in good upkeep, as a pair comes along, a couple (albeit more likely of
the ad-hoc, intantaneous, and soon to be forgotten variety), laughing and stumbling, both less
underdressed so much as being somewhat clumsily garbed in a good number of layers, one or two of
which have possibly switched wearers at some juncture. That, or the guy has a really cute taste in
scarves. So at any rate, the somewhat disheveled couple comes along, stumbling and using one another
for balance, and on spotting Max, a seeming kindred spirit in such things, and someone with her, the
guy offers a friendly 'woo!' and raised hand in their direction, his primitive attempt at a greeting.
Then suddenly, it's "Oh shit babe I think-" and he rapidly turns and b-lines for a bush.
And a moment later, following some more traditional post-party sounds, comes a rather high-pitched
and indignant screech of animal variety, from the same said bush.
"Uh, yes," Aneira says, her crystalline eyes narrowing a little bit at Max in what might be
puzzlement or suspiciousness. "Aren't you c..." she starts to ask, before she's very abruptly cut
off by the other revelers and then the yowl. Attention fully shifting that direction instead, she
takes a couple of steps toward the bush to get a better look at whatever is going on there. If
someone gets scratched up, she appears to be the only sober person immediately present...
The loud screech causes Tai to look in that direction, but she doesn't seem to be particularly
worried about someone getting scratched up. She doesn't seem particularly anything, really. A
slender hand reaches up to tug the collar of her coat closer around her, and she continues her
walking, hand sliding back into her pocket.
It would be impossible for Max not to notice the high-pitch shriek coming from the bushes. Since
she's a bit out of it, the mortal isn't quite her usual self. Instead of watching and waiting to see
what might happen, she makes her way towards the bushes. Aneira's unfinished question can be
answered later! Moving close toward those mysterious bushes, the mortal isn't too inconspicuous
about what she's doing. Anyone in those bushes would probably hear her coming and the other two Lost
about can easily see her actions. Once she's close enough, she braces herself before pushing aside
some of the brush to try and see what had happened.
A yelp indeed follows a moment later, and the dude stumbles back from the bush, absent some prior
portion of his dignity and plus a very visible scratch mark on the kisser. "Sonnofa..." he growls
and kicks at the bush, although to little avail. A shape darts amidst the greenery, nearly invisible
between the dim lighting, covering underbrush, and its own dark coat, though the more aware might
follow it as it darts from bush to bush and then scrambles up a tree overlooking the same spot. The
guy just mutters, and by now, the 'enchantment' seems to be wearing off for his date. Between not
holding his liquor and abusing the local wildlife, he's less a winner than he might originally have
appeared! She nags him about just getting her through the damn park before they get mugged and soon
the pair is moving off.
The investigators will naturally find nothing in the bush, but may note instead a black cat perched
in a low tree branch looking down in imperious command of its now-secure domain.
"Wait..." Aneira says in Max's direction, reaching out to try to pull the young woman back before
she ends up bitten by a raccoon or something but spotting the cat as it darts upward through the
bushes and thereby deciding not to interfere. As the pair wanders off, she casts a glance after them
but leaves well enough alone, instead giving the cat a studious once over.
Has she seen Aneria reach out for her, Max would have probably warned against touching her. However,
the scene in front of her has her full attention for the moment. She blinks a few times, taking a
step back from the bushes. Those bright blue eyes of hers drift over toward the cat, which she can
sense something off about it. The mortal isn't quite sure what since she doesn't even know what
mantles are but she can feel it nonetheless. A brow raises at the animal, but it's just a cat,
right? "I'm sorry I don't have any catnip on me, kitty," she apologizes as she takes a few steps
back in Aneira's direction. "What were you about to ask?" she wonders, raising her brows lightly and
curiously.
"That's alright, at least you didn't nearly throw up on my head," answers the cat.
Yep.
Perhaps the kitty is taking advantage of the overall drunken, substance-altered condition of what
seems to be infecting the local human population to get up to some mischief. They do have that
reputation, and maybe it's not entirely undeserved. Surely any mortals talking about the talking
animal they ran into in the park will be laughed off as trying a *little* too hard chasing white
rabbits down holes?
Aneira has been wandering this park regularly late at night and has not seen such a cat around
before, so she spends a few extra seconds studying it. "Hmm," is what the cat's verbal response gets
out of her. Neither approving nor disapproving nor really holding any inflection whatsoever: just a
neutral 'hmm'. Max's question goes unanswered for the moment as she waits for this situation to sort
itself out.
Blink, blink, blink. Those bright blue eyes of Max's widen as she hears the cat talk. She glances at
Kat, to Aneira, then back and forth a few times before her gaze rests on the latter. The mortal
takes another step in the Lost's direction, tilting her head to the side. "Did that cat just talk?
Or are these drugs really kicking in right now?" she wonders with a raise of her brow.
In the face of the question, the cat simply stares back as any animal would, its, or rather her
attention and curiousity raised, but showing no sign of understanding. And then, after a long pause,
she simply raises one paw and begins to dilligently groom herself, just as any cat might. Her tail
flicks idly beneath the tree branch, and she watches the 'human' pair, but nothing more.
"Which would you prefer the answer to be?" Aneira asks Max in turn, deadpan. "It might be better to
discuss it when you're sober, Max." The use of her name is probably purposeful here, or at least it
gets dropped with something of a hard edge; a heads up for the cat, maybe. "Exactly what did you
take?"
"I would prefer the most truthful answer," Max replies as she glances toward Aneira again. Then she
narrows her brows lightly at the Lost. "I just smoked some weed and ate a few mushrooms. You know,
nothing too crazy. It's not like I'm not going to remember anything tomorrow when I wake up," she
assures the other woman. A hand reaches up, brushing some of her hair from her face. She lets a sigh,
considering something as she slides her hands back into her pockets. "I'm all cool with you guys now.
I don't know if Byron got the message around to everyone or whatever yet."
Lap, lap, lap. What is it with cats and grooming? Often, it seems like they could live their lives
doing little more than sleeping and licking themselves. Although in this case, the grooming process
may be obliquely intended to communicate disinterest in the conversation, to 'prove' the notion that
the cat really didn't say anything. And yet anyone watching might well note a decided pause in the
process, a lifting of that furry head, and a slow glance from Max to Aneira at the last of this
discussion.
"He did," Aneira answers with a dip of a nod toward Max. "I imagine it hasn't permeated completely,
but he did make the announcement. Not everyone stays up to date with the local news. Though, again,
this might be a better discussion for when you're sober." A glance here is spared for the cat. "Care
to show yourself?"
Glancing back toward Aneira, the enchanted mortal gives her a bit of a look. Max's brows narrow just
slightly and she places her hands on her hips. "Just because I'm a bit high doesn't mean I'm not
capable of holding a conversation," she replies. Usually she's better at holding her in emotions but
she can't help but look a bit insulted. Those bright blue eyes linger momentarily on Aneira before
she lets her gaze drift back toward the cat. "If you're just going to be an eavesdropper, go do it
somewhere else, cat."
"Show myself? I'm right here," answers Kat the cat, now making a show of gesture that is just a
little more human than feline, actively looking over her shoulder as if to indicate searching the
branch for other occupants. "And I'm perfectly comfortable." The voice, it should be said, is
feminine and more 'displaced human voice coming from a cat face' than a feline imperssion of human
speech, at least in its general shape and tone. No mewling or meowing the words, or anything. "So
the woman is a friend?" This follows Max's words, along with a more intense eying of the woman.
"Because now she sounds a little rude, and I'm tempted to show her what a black cat's ill fortune
really feels like. Be civil," she then chides Max. "It's all in good fun anyway. Well, fun for me
usually, but the mortals rarely remember much to worry over it in the morning."
"She's sworn an oath," Aneira replies to the cat, which is probably as accurate an answer as Kat
will get to that question; her earlir probe gets dropped at the response with little more than a
slight shrug from her icy shoulders. Max's earlier question goes rather unanswered by her; no doubt
it's self-evident at this point. "In my experience, mushrooms are usually counted as a little more
than 'a bit high', but as you will."
"The more you take something, the more of a tolerance you build up for it," Max tells Aneira.
There's a small pause before she adds, "It also helps me with some things." Of course, she keeps
that vague for the time being, though seems possibly open for such a conversation at a later time.
Looking back to the cat, a rare frown touches her lips and her brows narrow slightly. "Now you're
just being arrogant, cat. I'm being quite civil. Just saying, you're going to sit there acting like
you're better than me, than us, you should go do it elsewhere," the mortal tells her, shaking her
head lightly. Then she looks back to Aneira. "Or we can just walk and talk elsewhere. You're cool
company."
"You've not met many cats, have you?" muses the chatty feline. "It is our birthright to go where we
please, observe from our perches, offer kind comfort where it is earned and dole out ill fortune and
misery elsewise. Oh, and to keep ourselves looking good and sleep at all hours." At least she's read
the manual! "But really, who's evesdropping? You're talking to me right now! Which is probably more
interesting of a night than you'd have had otherwise. And if I cared to spy on you, for whatever
reason as I cannot imagine, you'd not see me. Though if you have private business," and here her
golden gaze turns to Aneira, "I didn't mean to intrude on it. I was rather enjoying my bush until
that buffoon came along." Obviously the non-mortal is paid a little more heed. That's just how
things go!
"She seems to have a point," Aneira suggests to Max, regarding the issue of how cat-like the talking
cat happens to be. "It's difficult to argue with that kind of logic." Probably because 'logic' isn't
quite the right word for changeling reasoning, but she leaves that unsaid. As for the remark about
the man, she replies, "Well, I'm certain that he'll have a hangover that will be punishment enough
come daylight." And perhaps a little more, depending on how seriously Kat the cat takes her cursing
business, but that goes unsaid as well. "Have you a name we can call you, or will 'cat' do?"
Whatever the answer, she glances to Max. "I was going to ask if you were cold earlier. If you'd
prefer to talk somewhere it isn't below freezing, I'm sure we can go elsewhere." Not that she seems
to mind the cold...
"Sorry to burst your bubble but I've had much more interesting evenings than talking to snooty cats,
" Max replies with a small shrug of her shoulders. Looking back to Aneira, she shakes her head
lightly at her. "It's cold out but I'm not freezing myself. I might be new to the area but I'm not
new to cold weather," she assures the other woman with a faint smile. "I learned long ago how to
dress warmly. Especially since I like wandering about at night. It might still be pretty cold now
but that just means it won't get dreadfully hot in the summer. Have you ever been to Florida during
the summertime? Ugh, completely miserable if you're not on the coast."
Most normal cats do not nod, but this one does, attesting her firm approval of Aneira's seeming
understanding of the feline lifestyle. "Cat will do in nearly all circumstances, really," then
answers the afforementioned, alone in her own little joke. She then considers Max. "Well, I'm not
here to entertain you anyway," she snoots back, though there is no further threat of curses o' doom,
so perhaps the conflict will end in nothing more than the generalized aloofness that is so
characteristic of her species. She listens a moment. "Though I daresay I'm more entertaining than
talking about the weather."
Aneira adjusts her scarf with a little nod toward the pair, replying to Max (apparently quite
content to talk about the weather, or at least Florida), "I went a few times when I was very young.
I would hazard a guess that I wouldn't be suited to the weather there now, winter or summer." The
cat gets a little glance at that reply. "Are you prepared to do something entertaining, then?"
"Why wouldn't you be suited to the weather down there?" Max wonders with a slight raise of her brow.
Her head tilts slightly to the side, regarding the woman with a curious look. Her gloved hands find
their way back into her pockets to help keep them warm. The mortal might not be too cold but she
can't help but be a bit chilly. She lets her gaze drift over Aneira curiously, studying her over.
"I'm guessing it has something to do with what happened to you?" she states, her tone softening for
a moment though she keeps her words intentionally vague.
"Well, I'm certainly capable of making things interesting," the cat declares, of course suddenly
full of boastful pride, even puffing out her chest a bit. "Although that takes us back around to
being pleased or displeased. We do not, as a rule, merely entertain as rover does, with a ball or
stick, though we have much for those who treat us well. Maybe next time, she should come with catnip
or a treat." In a sleek motion, the dark furred creature rises, and begins a slinky walk down some
portion of the branch, though she doesn't dismount it yet, pausing suddenly, almost statue-still, at
the final question Max poses, quickly eying Aneira in turn.
"That was a joke. About how I'd melt. Like a snowman? Or a witch, I suppose." Aneira answers Max,
her icy face remaining pretty expressionless and her voice deadpan. "I don't believe I'm destined
for a career in stand-up comedy. Alas." She flexes her fingers a touch uncomfortably at Max's
question, and deigns not to answer it in full. "I wouldn't really melt. I could probably do brisk
business as a particularly good-looking air conditioner." Then, all out of bad jokes at this point,
she says, "Carrying around random gifts is all well and good, and in fact, I suppose I highly
recommend it, but if you'd like one as personalized as catnip, it helps to know where to find you."
Max smirks at Aneira with a bit of a playful expression. "You might look icy but you seem like
you're completely made out of ice," she points out, chuckling some. Reaching into her pocket, she
pulls out her phone to check the time. "Geez, it's later than I thought. I should probably try to
get some sleep in," she says. The young woman starts to put her phone away before she pauses and
glances over toward the snowy woman. "Mind if I get your phone number?" she questions, her brows
raising slightly as she looks curiously toward her.
"Witches don't really melt," the cat decides it relevant to point out, presumably claiming reputable
authority given the color of her coat. "Not as a rule or anything, at any rate. I suppose one could
be cursed thus. They do burn of course, if not properly warded." The more you know! "Of course I'd
not really expect her to be carrying them now. Which is just the point. We're only still in the
getting-to-know-you phase. But! If she wishes a friend, she knows how to go about it. This tree will
do fine." Head held high again, the cat resumes her stroll, her regal promenade down the branch
until reaching whatever point is deemed appropriate and... woosh, there she goes, leaping from it
and dissapearing into the bushes once more. Cat out!
"No," Aneira answers Max, pulling out a small card case and passing over a business card. It just
says 'Aneira' and a phone number on it with a Boston area code. Apparently whoever gets handed these
cards know what business they're for inherently. "Get some rest. Be careful on your way home... or
would you prefer a ride?" It's probably polite to offer, plus she isn't really sure how on drugs Max
still is. The cat gets spared a glance and a slight nod as she disappears.
As the cat disappears, Max gives a quick glance in its direction before looking back to Aneira. "I
was warned about talking to ... things like that. You should be careful too," she tells her, a
flicker of genuine concern in those bright blue eyes of hers. Then her expression relaxes once more.
The card is taken, looked over briefly, and tucked away into a pocket. "A ride sounds good. My hotel
is in the city. Even though I do like walking, it's much too far for this time of night," she
replies with a nod. "Thanks. I'll buy you a cup of coffee sometime or something to repay you."
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