Soldekai shakes his dark locks, lifting his still-present venti. "Thanks, though," he says softly, a little surprised at the exchange between Nate and Fiona. His brows arch as he drops himself back into his seat, exhaling loudly as the air is thrust upwards from the force.
"We've met, once. You seem ... healthier, this time." Fiona's lips twitch minutely, and she lifts her drink to her lips again, as though to use it to suppress further commentary. When she lowers her cup again, she uses the paper napkin to wipe off the mustache that's formed - licking it off is acceptable only with fewer overt witnesses. "It was a brief encounter, and you had a friend with you - Italian, I believe, but I don't quite recall. I had ... a headache, at the time." In the form of a bit over six feet of prince of air and waves of faerie.
"Small world, isn't it?" Soldekai murmurs before turning his drink to his lips again. "Amazing really." Okay, fine. He goes quiet again, eyes glancing to Nate and Fiona in turn.
"Very well then, solo excursion. I'll be back in a minute." Probably more like two, Starbucks has never been known as particularly speedy. And so the Cupid of Gabriel's Wharf steps in, his open shirt trailing after him a moment, he's layered in his clothing -- a pinstripe over a white t-shirt. Very Venetian.
But while he's waiting in line for his next frothy goodness, he takes a moment to stare from a distance. Two magicians. Two angels. Who summoned whom this time?
"An Italian?" Nathaniel's expression displays his confusion. "When was that? Was that here?" He hates it when his other selves don't bother telling him things. It gets so messy when meeting new people who already know him.
"So --" He drags out the words, trying to figure out where to take the conversation. "-- Topic shift? What have you been up to since last we saw each other? How is --?" He trails off, hoping that she'll fill in the blank with any significant others, children, family, pets, or anything really that they may have talked about at the supposed last encounter.
A slight shrug. "London, yes." Fiona isn't keen on details, it seems, or not on giving them, anyway. She glances at the two angels-in-disguise, much as she doesn't know about them, and debates internally her response. The truth, perhaps? If delivered properly...
She smiles, then, a faint ladylike moue, glancing at Soldekai, then across at the line-attending Kit. "Mustn't grumble, I suppose. I rather jumped off a bridge and changed careers and lifestyles. Terribly dramatic, but I'm told it suits me better, this line of work - television, shifted from reporting," she adds, helpfully. "The folks I used to associate with don't mingle with me terribly much anymore; a pity in some ways. But then, I don't imagine you knew them, did you? Though I'm presently trying to hunt one of them up."
How completely, utterly, irrevocably polite. And how completely, utterly, irrevocably unhelpful. But she doesn't know what Nathaniel does or doesn't know, and Fiona's expression is one of bland, polite inquiry. "And yourself? Keeping better than the last time, I imagine. No ... accidents." She turns with sudden apology to Soldekai. "I am sorry. I'm being the very height of boorish, aren't I? And here you invited me to your table. Do forgive me."
"Don't worry about it," Soldekai smiles, "...it's a great coincidence that you both just, well, happened to meet here again." Soldekai bends, deciding to replace his camera into its case. "Serendipity," nice girl she is, "...is amazing, and nothing wrong with catching up," his head bobbing in Kit's direction. The other person isn't here, so might as well.
"I'll admit," Soldekai says, voice low in his chest as he separates lens from base, then zips up his bag, "...jumping off a bridge is...not what I expected to hear." He smirks, going quiet again as he sits back upright.
It is now Kit's turn to order, the great flirt. He leans against the counter, he makes a big production number out of looking at the selection again and then, of all the nerve, he speaks in his Italian as if he doesn't know English, peppering in a word or two of English off-kilter. Playing with humanity like that. Tsk.
The girl behind the counter doesn't mind...
Finally, he settles on a selection, hands upon the counter. He orders a mocha coconut frapuccino, whip cream, chocolate syrup and coconut shavings, the largest size possible. He smiles, the scamp, and the girl buys it for him. Oh no, he says, he cannot let her do such a thing -- he whispers that to her in half-English. She puts it on the house anyway -- she'll buy it, her treat. Welcome to Britain and enjoy your stay.
Once again, Kit pushes the limit of gift vs. stealing.
He appears from the shop a few moments later, returning to the patio, to his table and his three tablemates, mouth curled around the straw and forming a smile.
"I really don't remember any unpleasantness in the last --" He glances around "-- little while. That isn't good, that just means I'm going to --" Nathaniel trails off again. Smiles slightly. "Never mind, not important. Not to mention terribly confusing, and so I won't bore you all with the details."
"But, change is good, Fiona. Even if it is drastic, like total lifestyle change. Without change we cannot progress." Nathaniel smiles, warming to the conversation.
"I jumped off the Golden Gate, once. Broke both legs, my left arm, and half my ribs. I'm really quite lucky to be alive." This is all delivered with a casual smile. "So, since that didn't do me in, I tried base jumping."
Fingers fiddle with his latte, or the remains thereof, causing henna brambles to clamber around his wrists. "But, I guess, I did that for recreation and not out of need for drastic life change."
Kit returns, and brings Nathaniel's ever-wandering attention over to Soldekai. He doesn't say anything, just lets his two-tone gaze rest on the stranger figure.
Smile slightly frozen, Fiona's eyebrows quirk up a trifle. Good lord, he's quite mad, isn't he? "I'm afraid I don't know what base jumping might be. And sometimes, yes, change can be good." What else is there to add, really? She isn't sure, and in her way, retreats silently into confusion for a moment.
She answers Soldekai next, distractedly. "Well, it was a bridge and a metaphor. Where I was ... working ... the real, the actual, had less place in things than the potentials, what might be, and so, utter change though it was, it was - I think - good for me. But I'm looking for an old ..." And she flounders. Friend? Boyfriend? Lover that might have been? "...acquaintance," she finishes, "from my reporting days, to finish up the past."
A smile of pleasant welcome is offered to Kit as he returns, and she asks Nathaniel, "Did the bridge survive your leap?"
Soldekai looks to Nate, letting him respond before jumping back in. Indeed, Sol looks as if he'd like to know the answer to the question himself.
Kit quietly retakes his seat, giving the straw a stir as he settles back in his chair next to Soldekai. Silver grey eyes peek above the rim of cherry red lenses and he looks back and forth betwixt the two magicians. And he sips the coconut-chocolate concoction (it is a frothy goodness) while he waits to hear the resulting story.
Those same silver grey eyes slide over to Soldekai --- Solomon Decker, Sol Decker (he really likes that one) -- as if at the end of this, All Things Shall Be Made Clear.
He pokes the straw into the drink, swirls it around and waits.
"Base jumping. Well, that would be leaping from very high places, with a parachute. Buildings, cliffs, and the like. If you ever decide to do it, I highly suggest avoiding transmission towers. The realization that the smell of burnt chicken is coming from yourself is a tad unnerving." Again, that totally casual delivery. "Base jumping can be really dangerous. A stray gust of wind and you slam against the base, parachute tears, and you're likely a broken mannequin on the ground." There is a distant look in his eyes, as he briefly returns to memories of his more adventurous years. Years he really should repeat some day soon.
The question about the bridge causes Nathaniel to laugh. "Oh, certainly it survived! I'd never take anything out on a bridge, silly!" He shakes his head, obviously one of the most ridiculous things he has ever heard. "Bridges rarely do anything intentionally. No reason to beat up on one for accidents."
"What about you Kit?" Nathaniel has turned his attention to the quiet one, who originally dragged him into the conversation. "Ever base jumped, or otherwise done something truly crazy?"
With that same faint, frozen smile, Fiona regards Nathaniel with that same thought occurring once more, only with more emphasis : Good lord, he's quite mad. She gives the two men at the table a quick, sidelong glance, then settles back in her seat. No point in undue alarm when there's nothing to be done about - and she's not yet unwound enough to return home and hie herself to her bed.
Soldekai smirks, brows arching. He'll let Kit reply to the question, but the expression on his face tells his amusement of the question and its answer: Of course. But Soldekai drinks a bit more of his coffee, glancing, like Fiona, sidelong in Kit's direction.
Grey eyes pop over to Nathaniel and a grin forms around the body of a straw. "I drove a tank in Pakistan once." Sip. "Bombarded an installation." Sip. "Let's see, oh! I dove off a cliff in Iceland, bathed in a few lava pools." He glances to Soldekai, tipping back his head. "Have I done anything else crazy? I feel like my list should be longer than that."
Well, there's the list he can speak about and the list he can't speak about. He can't talk about crazy things he's done on the Marches and in dreamscapes or the time he pulled a prank on the king of Babylonia. There are limits.
"Oh," Kit adds with flare! "I put my head in a lion's mouth..." Well, it has four heads, I only tried one of them. I wasn't that death-defying...
Nathaniel gives Kit an appraising look. The yellow and blue eyes look him up and down. "Lava swimming." He is dumbfounded for a moment, but just a moment. "I should figure out how to try that. How did you do that?" Yup. Nathaniel is a sucker for a good extreme sport.
Wonder if Rachel can make me an asbestos swim suit that will actually work...
Again, he shakes his head.
"Okay, you win. I don't think I could out crazy you tonight." Broad smile speaks of deep amusement.
Then back to Fiona. His mind is like the a pinball game. "So, no luck finding your "-- and he waits the same amount of time Fiona did as she tried to figure out what to call the person. "-- acquaintance? Maybe it is someone I know, want to share?"
Equally dumbfounded is the other, accidental magician. Lava? Fiona eyes Kit with a doubtful gaze, too polite to inquire, but not so polite as to wonder what she's got in the middle of. Though, perhaps he's just humoring the other lunatic. "Puts me in mind of Christopher Fry," she murmurs to herself, then shakes herself out of her reverie.
"I'm afraid my own habits and hobbies are a bit less strenuous, these days, though I did spend the night in a graveyard town in France, once," she mentions, then goes on to answer Nathaniel with a slow care as she chooses her words. "He is a musician, and when I met him, he called himself Dei - short for Amadeus - but it's quite possible that he has other names that he goes by. Unfortunately, I lost track of him - I was rather obliged to leave in a hurry when the club he was playing in blew up." Her fault, of course; the accident part of accidental magician.
"I saw him briefly after that, but things had changed." Fiona brushes her hair back from one cheek, then shrugs, smiling ruefully. "And now, I suppose I want to see if things have changed back. But I don't move in the same circles any more, and the last time I tried to contact someone who might know how to find him - I got a wrong number."
He could have done without the lava pools. Soldekai winces slightly at the mention of it. Maybe the concept will be misunderstood: the whole swimming in hot lava? No, maybe he meant a pool of water formed by cooled lava walls. Yes, that's it.
Oh, he'd better say something.
"Not lava swimming," Soldekai chimes suddenly, "...swimming a pool made of cooled lava." Blink.
Sol looks to Fiona, the name not really registering on his features.
"Yes, that's it exactly. Just really hot water," spoken as if they should have all realized that. Though, admittedly, swimming in actual lava is crazier. If one is simply judging by lunacy. "Don't know anyone by that name, well, not one who's alive anyway." Kit smiles. Everyone knows the dead Amadeus, the one who made the name famous. "What sort of music? I'm a musician myself. I had a band for a while. I might have heard of them." There's a long shot chance, anyway.
Kit looks across to Nathaniel and smiles. "Sorry to mislead you. I meant lava pools... not pools of lava. My English," he tsks. As if. English is his vessel's native language. "The tank was the most outrageous thing I think I've done, considering I was a civilian. Merely in the right place at the wrong time." He actually saw an upset Soldekai that day.
But it was rather fun.
"Oh!" Nathaniel is a bit less impressed now as he accepts the change in explanation. Though he is certainly going to try to get some fire-proofing from Rachel one of these days. It'll match the whale necklace. Nate's fingers go to a chain, hidden by his shirt, that draps around his neck. Yup, still there.
"I've never driven a tank. I don't really get along well with Violence, so we've agreed to avoid each other."
Something in Nathaniel's memories chimes, at the name 'Dei', but he can't drag the memory forward. Something that happened blindingly long ago, for him. Wasn't that in London, too? "Well, if I run into them, I'll pass along that you are looking for them." Nate is all smiles once more, after the vague look of memory passes his features.
"Thank you. If you run into him, tell him Drancy was looking for him, would you?" Fiona smiles at Nathaniel, not quite gratefully, but in a friendly fashion. "I think the name I presently go by is one he is unfamiliar with, and that was the name I'd been using at the time." The name of a graveyard town in France...
She inclines her head to Kit, answering cordially, "At the time, he was playing in a band called Deus Ex. The music which particularly impressed me, though, he played on an acoustic guitar, and was a mix of his own contrivance and songs by others. He was ..." She purses her lips, thoughtfully. "... interesting, and very capable of penetrating past outer appearances with his music."
"I haven't," Fiona adds lightly, "ever been anywhere that there's been lava pools, but it sounds interesting, at least." And much saner; this is the respectable world she's rejoined.
The American doesn't seem to know much of local music. He's content to sit and listen to each present as he finishes up his coffee. Soldekai grins at the name of the band 'Deus Ex', but doesn't comment. He grimaces suddenly though when he reaches the bottom of his venti.
Kit's features soften for a moment, as he thinks back. "No, I don't know much about that band, I'm sorry." And he is actually. One so infrequently finds really good music. And he would like to be able to help, even if he is officially on vacation (only because he chooses to stay down here when he should otherwise be in The Marches. Not exactly 'official' but about as official as it gets). "Though it sounds interesting." He sips again and then without missing a beat hands his drink to Soldekai. "It is very sweet, but very tasty," he promises in a murmur. Next time, he'll stick with the chai. There is a fond smile that passes from him to his... friend. He would gladly give up his glass for Sol Decker's comfort.
"I wish I had more information suddenly," Kit offers. "I am sorry you have been unable to find him. I guess his band isn't playing locally anymore?"
For one so talkative before, his current silence could be quite conspicious. Nathaniel is listening. He has nothing to add to this discussion, despite the many memories that pound in his skull and claim to know more. And so, like Sol Decker, he sits back, watches and listens.
"I've not heard anything to suggest that they are," Fiona answers, lips quirking almost in mischief, "and while I'm a bit out of touch, I still do have some contacts. But the matter is ..." The English lady hesitates. How does one convey certain pieces of information without being thought utterly mad? Even in such odd company as this. "complicated." She finishes her espresso, turning the cup round clockwise three times between her palms, absentmindedly.
And then, she adds in a mutter, "I suppose it'd be much easier if I could just ring him up on the Exchange, wouldn't it?" Her eyebrows lift, and she laughs. "He may well not have been who he said he was. A ... friend told me that he was something other than what I'd believed, and when I tried to contact that friend, I reached, uh, someone else." And she colours slightly. "As I said - a wrong number. And my friend may well have been joking - he seems to think him damnable royalty."
"Maybe check studios or musician hangouts?" Soldekai offers as a suggestion. "I don't guess, as with other things in this country, that there's a musician's union?" He chuckles, taking the cup from Kit's hand. Soldekai takes a taste, grimaces, and then hands it back.
Now Kit's curious. Dark eyebrows knit together and he tilts his head. "Seeming vs. Being is a very interesting argument. He seemed one way, but a friend indicated that he was something else? It's very Shakespearean. Sounds like Iago's argument to me." He takes back his frothy goodness and stares at it and then at Soldekai.
"Too sweet?" he grins and sips at it all the same. He likes sweetness.
"Don't you just hate wrong numbers," Kit's voice pulls. Rather. Once he was dialed by a wrong number and was pulled from Iceland to London. Good thing he had to go through the Ethereal Realm to get there, or he would have been quite naked at the time. That was more than a little inconvenient.
Nathaniel taps his lower lip, ignoring the remains of his cooling latte. Something, or someone, was screaming into the back of his mind. Desperate to be heard, they just repeated the same thing over and over.
Janus. From behind the wall of silence, and the unending expanse of Paradox in Nathaniel's mind.
I'm not supposed to be listening to you, Janus.
But Janus doesn't care. He just keeps repeating over and over, the same information.
"Betty's Boobs." The words just spill from Nathaniel's mouth. He doesn't quite know why, or how, but he knows this is somehow related. The information fleeting, fading like morning mist before he has a chance to grasp it.
Cheeks bright red, he stammers, embarassed. "Uh, er. Uh. Well, what I meant was." He doesn't know, really. "Well --" And so he decides to down the rest of his latte, and hope people will ignore him.
With a faint smile and remaining hint of pink in her cheeks, Fiona nods to Kit. "Huw has a touch of Iago in him, I think - not in the sense of being an evil counselor, but that native and ruthless cunning. Of course, he's much older than me." That comes out with a tone almost of naivetee. "But I imagine he's rather an expert on things which aren't what they seem. A ... very ... fluid view of reality." She makes a slight, abortive gesture, half-sketching an oak leaf on her napkin without even quite realizing she's doing it.
Her fingers still, though, as she turns to stare at Nathaniel. "Yes," Fiona says slowly, "that's where he played, the night he and I spent time together. After which, I suppose, he and I became both altogether and completely different. - Dot handcuffed Sieg to the table," she muses reminiscently, "and they played, and then we went and ... well, hung out." A pause, and curiosity. "You've been there, then? You don't look much the punk." Nor does she, these days.
So, maybe the union wasn't a great idea.
Soldekai looks out to the hordes of summer tourists streaming along the Bank. Across the river, the City stands; her shapes and spires becoming more familiar to him, though the details of her features remain lost to him. Humans remain lost to him in their detail.
"Anyone want something else?"
Soldekai pushes up from his seat, preparing to go inside. He picks up his empty venti for the nearby trash.
None of these places and names are familiar. Kit doesn't abruptly disengage, but his attention becomes more easily diverted. He listens -- oh yes, he listens -- but his eyes are shaded behind red-rosy glasses, taking a moment to look at the nearby boat-houses. A little smile pulls at his mouth. He glances to Soldekai. You know, I live just right over there.
"Yes, I want something else," Kit suddenly says, tipping his head back. "A warm chai, not iced. Extra chai. With soy milk. I think I have had my fill of sugar." He's had enough to choke the demon prince of sugar, to be honest...
"It's a place?" Oh. Alright, then. Apparently it is an okay outburst. In the back of his mind, Janus gives up and goes silent. "Actually, until just now, I'd never heard of the place.
He shrugs, offers a faint smile. "I get insight occasionally. Kind of cracked, really, and it makes people want to avoid me more than they usually do. Sorry, if I surprised anyone." Mystic Tourette's. I wonder if there are pills one can take for that?
"A place, yes," Fiona agrees with a small smile. She's rarely terribly agreeable; one of the things she's been trying to work on, really. It's not coming naturally. "A club, to be precise - as I said, I used to work in the field. A ... very apt insight, sir."
A glance upwards at the Venetian and the American, as she's come to mentally categorize them - ah, these Brits. "Nothing for me, but thank you. I think I've had my fill... I probably really ought to get going, to be honest. Not that it hasn't been interesting."
Soldekai moves to turn about, to head into Starbucks. But when Fiona mentions departing, he stops and gives her his attention. "Busy lady," he says with a smile.
He does so hate to see her go! It's like a cliffhanger...
Will she ever find her long lost musician-slash-boyfriend?
Will she ever realize that she was sharing tables with a man she summoned to her apartment?
Will she and Nate ever come to terms with whatever past they may have?
Will Soldekai ever get my chai?
Oh, that's his cliffhanger. Not hers.
Kit smiles to her cheerily, a lovely boy to be sure not yet upon the crest of thirty one might imagine. An Italian on holiday in England -- well, they have to go somewhere don't they? And even they must tire of the sun sometimes. "It was lovely meeting you, Fiona Arundel. Maybe I'll have to pop in and see you sometime." He smiles like cupid, he seems cherubic, but really he has a core of evil.
Behind the cherry red lenses, there's a flicker of eyelash. A wink to his American friend, perhaps? Oh, are they friends?
"Leaving? So soon? Pity." Nathaniel was just getting to enjoy the conversation. "And here I was hoping to understand why I will --" And he abruptly cuts off. "-- never mind. Not important." A hand flicks the air, dispersing the line of thought he just derailed.
"I'm fairly sure, though, that you'll find what you want." A light flickers in one eye, then a mischevious smile. "Heck, how about we place a bet on it?" With a palpable ripple in the air, near the table, Nathaniel produces a bright silver coin. "I bet a denarius that you will. Counter?" Denarius. Roman coinage.
Fiona smiles at Soldekai, answering, "Unfortunately true, Mister Decker. And certainly, signor, if you like - I'll give you the grand tour of the studio, as long as it's not during filming." Ah, crossed wires; isn't it always so? She smooths her braids and loose strands back over her shoulder, rising to her feet and flickering a hand to her sunglasses in minute adjustment.
A wager? It makes her pause, blinking, turning to regard Nathaniel with wary distrust - she's always been wary of wagering. Even when she wins, it seems, she loses. However, it can't go unanswered, by her mortal or her immortal parts...
"I don't think I've got any denarii," Fiona answers with a smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes and softens her expression a bit. "But I know when I got my cappuccino, I'd got at least two Canadian coins, one American penny and two drachmae. Will any of those do as a counter-wager?" Considering what it is she wants...
Now this is interesting. Soldekai grins though, and heads inside. "I'll leave you all to the betting. It's nice meeting you, Miss Arundel. Maybe I'll see you down here again." On the South Bank, that is. He lifts his empty venti and waves it before heading into the Starbucks again to fulfill the next round of coffees.
Silver-grey eyes masked by red lenses are resting squarely on the gentleman with the silver denarius. So much so, that Fiona's words are like a watercolor wash over a brick. "You sound like you're making a safe bet." Now Kit flickers his attention to Fiona. "You probably want to keep your money in your pocket. It sounds fixed to me. But then again, this is the reason I'm not a bookie..."
When was the last time anyone even saw a denarius, let alone two denarii. "Where did you get it? I love old coins. Well, I love Rome and all things Roman, I have to admit a certain amount of bias, though I am not from Roma myself." All that marble, the columns, and best of all the heated baths and sofas...
The smile is there immediately, devilish and playful. "The Canadian dime, and nickel, will do nicely." She hadn't shown the coins, had she? "I should warn you that I never forget a bet, and I will be back to collect." He already knows she loses. How could he not? Yesterday, tomorrow, a thousand years from now: They are all the same to him.
Of course, there is no small amount of meddling on his part. No where in the rules did it say he couldn't cheat, and force the outcome. There is a child, within him, laughing. The child delights in breaking the Rules. Thou shalt not change the course of Future history.
His thoughts distracted by Kit. "Oh, the Denari? This is Londinium. These coins are positively sweating from the bricks, if you know where to look." And how to grab them, for that matter.
And then attention returns to Fiona, as his left hand comes up, offering air. Offering an escape. "Though, to be fair, I should ask what it is you honestly want. Not that it matters particularly if you don't want tell me." Be careful of this genie: he has good intentions.
Kit twists in his seat to watch Soldekai go -- he likes to watch him go, he even notches down his glasses on the bridge of his nose and smiles -- and then peers at him through the glass as he queues up.
"I suppose that is true," Kit notes. "About London." He looks at the other two again and smiles a little, sipping at his previous concoction. Blah. Sugar. "One does have to be careful what one asks for, as they say...."
What does she want ...
It's a good question, really, but the answer is one she's only barely acknowledged to herself. She's not about to voice it to utter strangers! "I'm not known for backing out of my end of wagers," she answers, not quite stiffly, though giving Kit a small, rueful smile over her shoulder, a hint of colour entering her face. "In my experience, ultimately, all wagers are fixed, and all compasses' needles as well."
She turns back to Nathaniel, peering at him with a sudden shrewdness, so that her ears almost come to points. Well, why not - wouldn't be the first time, would it? "What do all women want?", she asks lightly. "If I answer, I run the risk of contradicting myself. Suffice to say, I don't think it lies within anyone's power or ability to give it to me - either I'll earn it for myself, or learn of its impossibility, or most probably, a bit of both. I skin my knees rollerskating, too." She rolls her shoulders, adjusting the strap of her shoulderbag.
"But as you say, you'll find me to collect if you win - so why not make it easier? A year and a day is, I think, the traditional time to pass between meetings. If you win or I do, we can always meet back here - London will still be here." London will always be here - in some form. Fiona glances over at Kit. "And I have a knack for getting things wrong," she agrees, still smiling. "But either I'll find him or I won't, and I'll get answers to my questions or I won't, and they'll be the answers I like or they won't - and in the meantime, why worry? There's always rivers and bridges to cross." She looks back again to Nathaniel : "It should be a crossroads, but will this do?"
A year and a day? Nathaniel blinks, surprised. The chosen length of any contract, less it is a curse of centuries. Much sooner, than he originally foresaw. What originally took years, will have to take months now. Not impossible, but far flashier. Far more likely to bring down Him From On High.
"Done."
He drops the denari, letting it spin towards the table. Perceptions crawl, agonizingly slowly, as lights flash off the silver coin's faces. Flash from the faces.
"In less than a year and a day, you will find him. You will find Answers, though they won't be the ones you are expecting." His words filling the space of those crawling moments, before the coin falls the scant foot to the table.
The last syllable fades, and the coin strikes the table like the tole of some massive bell. Elsewhere, far away a child is laughing. No, Elsewhen. The boy's voice is pure, innocent, and haunting. Somehow, it sounds malicious, deceitful. Elsewhen, far away, the boy is now a teenager as he breaks and rebuilds a house of cards. No worries, soon enough he shall be a child once more.
Somewhere in that, Nathaniel stood up, as he now sits down heavily. Tired. Exhausted. "Why is it you bring out the worst in me?" Not spoken to anyone here. now. His eyes focus into some ephemeral space past a wall, and over the horizon. There, far off, he can see a man in white walking towards him. An eternity away, but an eternity enough to walk it.
Inside the glass of Starbucks, the American's reached the counter and places an order. A charmer, to be sure, he chats up the counter lad, then moves aside after paying to wait for the drinks to be made.
Again with the bridges. She likes the bridge over troubled water metaphor, doesn't she? "So..." Kit leans in a bit, his curiosity piqued, "...what sort of questions? Is it about his character?" As if, suddenly, he were some overprotective brother or cousin or chaperone of some sort, rather than a stranger sitting at a table outside of a chain cafe. And then he comes to his senses, he raises his hands. "It's none of my business, forgive," he says.
He twists in his seat to look at Soldekai again, smirking to watch him flirt from afar. Charmer. And then wait for his coffee. The notion tickles Kit. Soldekai waiting to get coffee and tea. In a Starbucks. In London. Surrounded by... people. And no guns are going off!
At least not yet...
Curls bounce as Kit turns his cherubic (ha) head toward Nate. Cocking upwards, eyebrows appear over the rims of red lenses. "I have that effect on people," he notes, thinking Nate's comment meant for him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd heard that.
Prophecy. Fiona's eyes narrow for a moment, then shrugs, giving the men a small, triangular smile. "I'll hold onto your change in case you win, then. And in a way, even if I lose, it's a comfort, the thought of actually having concrete answers of any sort at all." In faerie, they are so rare. In Chaos, they are so seldom. When one lives a fluid reality...
Turning back once again, Fiona gives Kit a considering sort of glance. "In a sense," she agrees, "I want to know him for who he is. Knowing myself's hard enough - it's a struggle, I think, for most people to take off their masks. I've got a problem with putting them on. And what's the point in being naked if one's going to be alone?" Now there's a metaphor for him. If her tone weren't so lacking in suggestiveness, it could even be a pickup line.
"I'm sorry if I've troubled you," she adds to Nathaniel. "We'll try to avoid bloodshed, this time."
Solomon Decker comes out of the Starbucks with two cups in hand. He strides over to the table, smiling at a few people who pass him and stare. Ah well. Tourists.
Sol moves around Kit, setting his chai in front of him. "Just as you like," he notes for the record. With hand now free, he sets down a bottle of something else, wrapped with label in Spanish.
"Oh, they had vanilla inside for sale."
He moves around to his seat, a little surprised to see Fiona still there. Something's up, seeing everyone's faces, and he settles back into the metal outdoor chair.
Confusion, for a moment, as Kit responds to Nathaniel's comment. The comment to the Other. "Oh, no, don't --". Too many thoughts jumbling together get in the way of coherent speach, as at least momentarily. "I wasn't talking to either of you, there. This is the first time, for me, that we've met." For him?
"Make sure its those two coins, specifically." Nate adds quietly, swirling the remains of his drink with a finger. "I'd get in serious trouble if I didn't offer up exactly what I promised." And he means exactly.
The other two talk, giving Nate time to clear his thoughts. Too many voices screaming at him, yelling. Too many voices unable to stop the Chaos he has unleashed, just now, in their lives and Times. Somewhere -- yes, somewhere -- there is a council of very upset acquaintances who can do nothing about Nathaniel's outbursts. Somewhere else there is a cabal who couldn't give a flying fuck what Nate does to the Universe, so long as he brings the bacon home.
He banishes all their voices from his mind, cutting them off in mid-sentence. How rude. For a moment he toys with letting their droning drive him insane, but once more he chooses the saner option. More socially acceptable, and he has done 'insane' before.
"No trouble, Fiona, none at all." Colour is returning to his drained features, as he regains his spirit. "I like playing these games, and I'm a sucker for an interesting wager."
Kit picks up the gift as if it were liquid gold, a string of pearls from the Adriatic, or diamonds. He cradles the gift and in reciprocation offers Soldekai a brilliant smile. "Amice! Grazie! Grazie. And for the drink. You spoil me. Soon I will not want to leave my little home without being carried on a pillow..."
Soon?
He smiles to Fiona, "Ah, I see. Well... knowing oneself is the point of life, I hear. But even though being naked alone is not as much fun as being naked in a group, it is still not without its own merits," he postulates, lifting a finger, even, as he does so.
Kit sips at his chai, ah, much better. "Clove... cinnamon...honey... milk," he sighs. That is the recipe for ambrosia. "They have completed their wager," he explains to Soldekai. "They will be meeting in a year and a day. And...Nathaniel is very particular about his coins..." There, all caught up.
There is a soft exhalation from Kit's side of the table and he unstops the bottle of vanilla, taking a breath of it. "Something for my coffee and tea at home... and maybe for my skin. You know, it was first marketed as a perfume..."
Soldekai nods on the catchup, taking a drink from his own chai. He watches the two, but remains quiet. A change for an American, yes?
Kit scoots his chair a bit closer to Soldekai's, obstensibly to make way for someone else passing by. But it's just a happenstance of convenience.
"I will do so," Fiona agrees to Nathaniel. "Or ... actually." She turns, mischief lighting up her changeable eyes, and she dips into her pocket, pulling out a handful of change and sorting through it rapidly, to come up with the appropriate coins. She turns to Kit and Soldekai, smiling.
Worried, yet?
"It's not out of custom to have a neutral third party hold onto the terms of the wager. Would either of you gentlemen care to be that surety for us? I realize, it's a bit much to ask, and only, of course, if you're willing." The Englishwoman glances to Nathaniel. "Your coin against my coins, in another's hands - though I think it the first time that Starbuck's would be used as a Fountain of Trevi!"
His eyes pick the coins from the pile of change in her hand, before her fingers even go for them. To him they are brilliant and alive in their own right. How else to tell an important object apart?
Wasn't he supposed to be finding a pebble at the Tower of London? The thought struck him, from some dark recess of his mind. Yes, but that can wait. He has all the Time in... well, you get the idea.
"A third party would be perfect." Denarius produced, and two more for good measure. "This one is for the bet." he holds it in his left hand, offering. "These two are for you, Kit, since you expressed interest." And they are just artifacts of History. So easy to come across.
"That is, if you wouldn't mind?" It does tie them to the event of the re-gathering, but that isn't that big of a deal, is it?
Immediately, Soldekai looks over at Kit. "Well, I don't live here," Soldekai offers, voice reminder of his place of origin. He lowers his drink and watches the shiny objects offered to Kit.
There's your guarantor.
Soldekai chuckles and puts his shades back on. Foot pushes at the camera bag still beneath the table. A sign that he must depart soon as well.
Is Yves playing around again...
Souls previously met meeting again in a big city, in a random cafe (well, the cafe isn't all that random, they're everywhere). And they just offered Kit shiny objects which Everyone knows he can't refuse. Kit smiles and holds out his palms.
"I do live here now, and you could have no safer place for shiny bits than in my possession. I would be happy to serve as the Neutral Third Party. It will give me something to do."
He looks to Soldekai, disappointment lighting on his features. I try, O Lord, not to look crestfallen when you must leave. I know you will be back, O Lord, but I do so like it better when you're here.
"The ones for the bet in my right hand please, the coins for my personal collection in my left."
"Then it's settled." Fiona does a quick abortive gesture - even if she's intelligent, sometimes she has trouble telling her left from her right - and then drops the coins for the wager in Kit's right hand, and steps back. "That way," she tells Nathaniel, "you won't run into -that- trouble on my account, at least - though the person I'm looking for might not like having his behaviour guaranteed in any fashion, predictable or otherwise." Unless, of course, he's merely amused by it...
She smooths down the Chinese silk of her shirt. "And now, I'm afraid, I must fly. I'll be back, in a year and a day if no sooner." Fiona smiles to all three men, shaking her bells and beads. "Until such time as next paths cross... and a pleasure to've met you."
Left to right, and right to left, Nathaniel's hands deliver the coins to Kit's. Yves might not be playing here, but he has got to know of Nathaniel. Perhaps there is a talk there in the future. A stern talk, perhaps. Or maybe Yves silently approves? Nathaniel's actions have to be in the cards, after all, don't they?
"Thank you, Kit. You're too kind." Not that Nathaniel has any worries of a stranger making off with the coins. He has already visited the next meeting and retrieved his coins. Or he will: next stop the Future. But that will be for another day.
"Events will conspire. Through accident, mischance, and design, the two of you shall be brought back together. Only in retrospect will it be odd, but he shall not look to you first. He will assume, wrong, that it was another." Assured of this, at least from here and now. The details always change, but the events never do. Unless someone intervenes. Someone of a fairly high order.
"It was good meeting you. And I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused, inadvertently or otherwise. I'll avoid bringing Venetians through brick walls as much as I possibly can." One such event must occur. Has already occured. Will occur. Nate will avoid any repeat performances.
That gets Soldekai to peer over the rims of his shades.
"Have a good day, both of you. A pleasure." He sips more of his drink and sets his camera case on the table in the sunshine. He will leave, for sure, but not without Kit, apparently.
"And you said sitting out here might be boring."
Posted by rowan at September 20, 2003 09:03 PM
