Cheap Eats

[Quick]

He shrugs "Maybe. Carnival might have been better. Freak shows, right?" The thought hadn't occurred to him about whether or not the park was a safe place to operate. Quick isn't in the habit of staying long enough to care. He blinks a few times, watching Lev finish his food.

The people in said clubs? They'd been preety tolerable, in comparison to some Freeholds he'd visited. Quick shakes his head. "More like... haven't invested in one. Been on the move since I got back. Left Manhattan, just kept moving. Haven't spent much longer than a week anywhere else. The kind of crowd that gets into those clubs? They make a serious commitment. Wouldn't have felt right to join one and leave." A pause. He averts his eyes. "But it's different now."

Before letting his thoughts wander off into who-knows-where, he reengages. "Where are you from?" This guy has to have his own story. Maybe some clue into why he was Courtless too.

[Ingrid]

Ingrid the Darkling slips into the comparative cool of the diner. There was a jingle from the door and then Ingrid was there, wrapped in a white dress with red polka dots. She had one of her floppy, voluminous hats and was juggling a bag (a different bag if Quick Travisc06489 should look up) and removing her sunglasses. Her black plimsol's squeak quietly on the floor while she finds - and flops into - a booth.

"Oooh yah. I'll take coffee," she enthuses when the staff makes her rounds. Settling down, the Darkling picks up the laminated menu from her table and explores its contents, musing loudly with a finger to her lips.

At last she makes her choice. As she lifts her eyes from the menu she at last spies the Quick and his mysterious lion man acquaintance Lev Vladimir . It is enough to attract her attention while she waits for her order. Shifting in her seat for a better view, she gives Quick a little wave but otherwise does not intrude. The plum perfume of Ingrid's mantle, however, begins to crawl across the room toward them.

[Donovan Ackerman]

Place looked cheap. It's what drew Donovan to it. When living hand to mouth you took what you cook get. Though if he was being honest with himself he was splurging even by eating out. A buger and fried here could probably buy him rice for the week. But he was tired and didn't feel like waiting for water to soak into hard grain. Cost effective as that might be.

He'd strode into the restaurant and ordered a plain burger and taters before he noticed the Changelings sitting in a booth near by. Careless of him but then too late to harden now.

"Mind if set with y'all," he asked walking over to the table. He'd sat down before any had time to answer. The Wizened took in a quick summation of the other Changelings. A hairy bear of a man, jointed legs and an intriguing tail. There was a certain... animal attraction Donovan found a bit unnerving. Especially without being to tell where the Beast's mantle led.

The girl though, with the heady plum scent, he could tell just what she wanted. Wanting. Desire written on her being. He could sympathize. The thinness of limb. He'd known hunger and suspected she had too. Though he'd overcome it to reach for the wrath of Summer.

Finally there was the youngster. In truth not much older than Donovan. Though he didn't draw as much attention to it as Quick did. The Woodblood pretended no boyish charm. The question was whether the apparent mortal was true or not. Was he actually youthfully ignorant or just pretending out of Fey made habit.

"Sorry to disturb yer meal. Just lookin' fer a Summer place to settle for a while." He gestured with one hand. Clods of dirt fell off his hand and evaporated into glamour on the floor.

[Quick]

"What's changed? Giving a shit, I guess. Our friends here have been thr-" He stops mid-sentence as he notices Ingrid. He returns the wave. Hadn't he just thought about Mantles that make a smell? Plums would trump musky lion any day. He finds himself smiling. A few blinks and he's back on track. "It's been hard here. They need help."

The Elemental screws his mouth up in sympathy. Lev might be gruff but he's still one of them; he's still been There and back. Quick winces at the mention of a 'court', but doesn't interrupt the man.

"Local for now. Motels or whatever." He shrugs. It's not cry for help. "I make do."

Another new face breaks in - much in the way Quick had - without waiting for an invitation. Well played. He's an OK looking guy, but damn is he dirty. If you're going to be a vagrant, have some class. And is it getting brighter in here? Quick's eyes follow the clods of dirt dropping from his hand, realizing with a start that they disappear as they hit the floor. It hadn't clicked at first, but this guy's just like them.

"Disturb away. But summer's pretty hot here." He somehow doubts the gruff lion man will be as welcoming. Lev had seemed irritated with Quick's intrusion... and Quick is cute. This new guy? A scrub.

The Elemental's eyes dart back to Ingrid's table, wondering if she'd join them or just watch. She is an odd one. She might just watch. And is that a new bag? Quick blinks again. He turns his attention back to the two men at the table.

[Ingrid]

Ingrid watched on from her table. Watched as a third Lost joined the group (another one she did not recognise). When the Lion Man gave a welcoming gesture, she simply sucked in her breath and moved over to their table. From the Darkling's perspective something very interesting was going on, and she wanted to be a part of it.

Her plimsol's squeaked wickedly as she settled down to their table. Ingrid winced wickedly at the sound. "Um. Sorry. New shoes. Yeah. Hi. I'm Ingrid. Hi Quick. So who are your new buddies?"

Ingrid ensured she made eye contact with the wizened and the beast both, open curiosity writ upon her features.

The fruity aroma of plum rolled off the Darkling, pleasantly teasing the group's taste buds.

[Donovan Ackerman]

“Better hot than cold when yer homeless,” Donovan observed a little bluntly. Sure, there was heat stroke to worry about but for a Changeling of who’d made agreements with the Eternal Summer that was less of a concern.

The lion man looked less than pleased at being trapped into having a meal with a stranger. Although not enough that he didn’t invite further company to the table. The squeaking of her shoes was nearly painful.

“Ya need to break those things in quick. Sound like a blister waiting to happen,” the Woodwalker said. As it was he didn’t know how people could stand to wear them at all. Even now his feet itched. Only the possible refusal of service (and thus food) kept his boots on his feet.

“Donovan,” he responded to the Palewraith’s request for introduction. He extended a dirt covered hand in friendship. At least you hoped it was dirt. The smell of manure contended with that of plums. “Nice to meet’cha.”

“And since I only just met y’all two as well, a nice to meet’cha as well,” he added to Quick and the unnamed Beast.

[Circe]

A blast of desert heat preceded Circe's entry into the diner, having heard they had a wonderful tuna melt. The Fairest was a denim ensemble of jacket and shorts, though she might have done without the jacket. Still, she felt better with the extra weight it hid and prevented freakouts from having said weight exposed.

And whom should she see at the little diner? None other then Ingrid! Oh, and some new boys along with Mr...Stick? No that wasn't it. Ah, Quick! Circe placed and order at the counter and pointed over to the group, grabbing a water before strutting over. The first person she greeted was the lady, "Oh Ingrid my dear, so good to see you. My my my," she looks at the boys then leans in beside Ingrid and gave an exaggerated stage whisper, "Are you organizing a party this time?"

Without missing a beat she then gave a wink to Ingrid before grinning at Quick, "Sup Quick? Making new friends? Sup guys?"