2022-02-23 - Sparkly Teenage Vampires

Winter wonderland is a wonderful thing of wintery wonder. The white snow heavy upon the businesses and yet twinkle like fallen starlight when the lights hit them. Ice coating areas to sparkle as if it's crystal instead of just frozen water. The beauty is something to be admired, until one looks at the slush of the streets. Or the cold of the degrees that allow this. Or worse, the windchill.

The Pizza Kitchen is a glorious place to get away from such things. The warmth from the ovens shatter the cold while the smell of all the foods being cooked linger on the air. Even the cold swirls of air have no power here, for the warmth wins.

There are a few scattering of people within the area. A couple to the left looking as if they are on an awkward Tinder date. Where one expected to hook up and the other expected a full on date. It appears the date won as their is food, but the female keeps looking to her watch. To the right are the Andersons. They are in their mid-60s and sharing a pizza. They are one of those couples that fell more in love when the children moved out. Mrs. Anderson leans over to share their soda pop. One drink. Two straws. She laughs at something her husband says, but they are probably in their own world of seclusion.

Then we have the tiny blonde at the counter. Gabriella has just shaken off the cold and refuses to give up her coat. An armor to the chill of the city. She is standing there with a look of indecision upon her features. Perhaps overwhelmed by the choice, or perhaps she's already dazed out by the five million thoughts in her head.

Was it only yesterday that Gabriella and Una were (re-)introduced at the laundromat? Evidently these meetings go in waves, because here's a second one for the week, with the redhead drawing up alongside the blonde, shaking snow off of her coat, and saying, "The ham and mushroom is my favourite. Maybe a little truffle oil, but not too much, because that just ends up getting weird. God the pizza is good here."

"Look, mushrooms don't belong on pizza. They're fungus." That little bit of Midwestern drawl announces, along with the words, the arrival of one of the newer occupants of Grey Harbor. Ariadne sports a knitcap pull over her deeply-auburn hair to her ears and a black-and-cream plaid scarf several feet longer than necessary (though all the better to be wrapped around her neck and warm). Her coat reaches her knees and she scuffs her boots at the mat at the door before venturing in further. "Now, green peppers? Pepperoncini? Sure, let's slap those on there. Extra cheese."

She meanders up beside Una, giving the other redhead a friendly grin. Hello, fellow Dream-wanderer. "Though I'm just here for a personal-sized one, don't mind me," she adds, glancing back up at the menu. "It's one of those cheat days."

It must be one of those days. At least it's only another minute before there is the tell-tale rumble of a motorcycle engine coming to a halt outside, and then the door opens to admit one Ravn Abildgaard, coat collar up around his ears, slinking up to the counter to look at the menu.

After a moment he also looks around, and upon recognising familiar faces, raises a hand in a wave. "Too lazy to cook," he murmurs. Not that he ever does. "And I think I want either the Meat Lover or the Pineapple Special."

Stepping in from the outside, Jonathan pauses a little to look around the room before he makes his way over to the counter. Seeing the people present, he offers them a nod and a brief smile, before looking to the menu. "Seems to be a good crowd here for today," he offers a bit lightly.

There is a slight lift of Gabriella onto her toes when Una speaks. Surely, she's just trying to get taller and totally did not jump. She did not jump. Her green eyes slide over and then she smiles vibrantly. "We can do that. I can just never decide on pizza really. There are just so many different combinations. So I start going through them and then we are still standing here a million minutes later." There is a smile cast towards Ariadne when she arrives over, "Salutations." Then, while not looking at him, "Except pineapple. I find only the most heartless beast of a person would put that on pizza." Gabriella smiles in Ravn's direction. He gets her true, unfiltered smile. Which allows her to catch sight of Jonathan and causes her eyes to twinkle in humor.

Una definitely didn't see Gabriella jump; must be a trick of the light or something! "Decisions are hard," she sympathises. "Though... no mushrooms?" Ariadne gets a dubious glance. "That's a dealbreaker for me. We may need a divorce. Hi Ariadne. Ravn. Are you all eating in or taking away? Because..."

Because pizza tastes better with company.

Even if it involves pineapple.

"Hey," Ariadne returns across Una's front to Gabriella, returning the smile with a polite grin of her own. "And yeah, no mushrooms, man, it's fungus," she insists. "And no pineapple either because that fruit's got enough acid and enzymes in it to dissolve chicken if you let the chicken sit in the juice for too long and just...no." A look back over her shoulder is towards the gentlemen arriving. "I think maybe we can start with the Meat Lover and go from there, add other toppings, pretend we're actually democratic instead of quietly ignoring the fact that Ravn has terrible taste in pizza."

The tall academic gets a grin before the barista's eyes shift to Jonathan. "Yeah, must be a pizza kind of day," she replies to his musings. "Either that or a burger. I definitely thought about a burger, but something about garlic spoke to me instead."

Ravn's steel greys are glued to the menu as he tries to decide on what to have. "I am the most heartless beast of a person," he decides, not breaking eye contact with the menu (the print really is quite small). "I think I will have a Meat Lover's, with pineapple as an extra. I like pineapple. And I will eat it here, just to make you all suffer."

He tosses a wink at Ariadne, though. "I have terrible taste in many things. People tell me all the time."

"Pineapple isn't too bad, really," Jonathan replies, after a few moments of thought, before he adds, "This Swedish guy I know, he had his pizza with ham, pineapple, banana and curry." He looks to the menu again, a bit thoughtfully. "I think I'll have one with the four different cheeses this time," he offers to the person taking the orders, before he shrugs a little. "And honestly, the one that Swede enjoyed wasn't too bad, really."

Gabriella looks between Una, Ravn, and Ariadne for a few moments. "Yeah, I'm not sure, y'all can go ahead of me." She takes a step out of the way and then offers towards Jonathan. "Curry doesn't sound horrid."

"Garlic," says Una, complete with a happy sigh. That's going to get added to her order, too, which she steps up to the counter to make: ham, mushrooms, extra garlic, extra basil.

Order complete, the redhead declares, cheerfully, "I'm going to choose not to judge anyone else on their choice of toppings, though I want you to know it is taking all of my willpower to do so. It's a good thing we don't have to share, that's all I'm saying."

"Right? Garlic's the bomb," the barista agrees with Una as she scans the menu again. There's a simple sausage and cheese with options for more garlic, more cheese, and some bell peppers which is singing to her in that far left column. Maybe that one. And okay, maybe some soda, she can splurge a little.

She looks back over her shoulder towards the gents again. "Might need to start taking notes if people are reminding you all of the time," Ariadne laughs in Ravn's direction. Jonathan has a point, however, ans she nods to herself. "Though curry doesn't sound half-bad either. I'd try it once if it was on someone's else pizza. Banana, mmm..." Lifting a gloved hand, she wiggles it off to one side in a waffling gesture. "Not sure about that one. Still have to be someone else's pizza first." She then puts in for her order and steps to one side to allow others forward to the till.

Ravn glances at Jonathan. "You know what, I think I might try that next time. The banana sounds weird but -- it could work. I've had banana in Singaporean curries, along with pineapple. That was all right -- unless you ask my host who hated banana, and the fact that banana is a main staple of the Singaporean Malay fusion kitchen."

He places his order and slinks off to a chair at the nearest table, settling on it and stretching those long legs. The gloves stay on -- but then, no one who knows him, would expect him to have manners enough to remove them even at the dinner table. "The great thing about having terrible taste and even worse manners is that after a while, no one expects anything from you. They just shake their heads and say, well, that's so Ravn, and let me be in peace. I'm nothing if not practical. I made it through university that way."

Jonathan chuckles as he hears the part about the Singaporean cuisine. "Never judge people by their cuisine," he offers with a grin. "I mean, I know some people from all over the world, with some interesting cuisine." He considers something before preparing to place his own order, like what to drink and such things.

Gabriella considers her pizza options closely. She does not have to share so there is that. "I think I will go with sausage, mushroom, extra garlic, and .. bacon. Thank you." She waits until a break in conversation to look towards Ariadne and puts on a bright smile. It's a sincere one.

"I'm Gabriella Leigh. I don't think we've met, but if we have, please forgive me for that."

She smiles a bit more towards Una. "So is this your wife as you were Zorro then?" She looks them over. "I am certain in that narrative you had beautiful children." Then to Ravn. "You don't have bad manners. Not that I recall anyways. You have never turned me away when I just show up on your doorstep." That could be because of the food though. Then a smile to Jonathan. "I think that when it comes to food, one should try new things all the time. You never know when you might find something you like."

"Oh!" says Una. "Gabriella, this is Ariadne. Ariadne, Gabriella. Yes-- Ariadne was my wife that one time. Dozens of little redheaded mongrels, right, Ariadne?" This may never get old. Sorry Ariadne: you're destined to be Una's wife forever now.

The redhead eases her way between the tables in order to take a chair at the opposite end of the one Ravn has claimed, finally stripping out of her coat, which she hangs over the back of her chair.

Adriane tries very hard not to smile. No smiling. Instead, a droll look shot at Ravn. "That was an epic pun," she informs him solemnly, quite approving of clever and/or cringe-worthy plays on words. Then, there's an introduction and wifery and the barista's eyebrows try to disappear beneath her knitcap and mostly succeed.

She can't help the little blurt of a laugh and a faint blush at her cheeks while she waves her hand off to one side and acknowledges, "So many little redheaded mongrels. Oodles. We eventually took over the countryside and became our own little dynasty, I'll have you know. Anyways, nice to meet you, Gabriella. I work over at Espresso Yourself, so if you pop in, you might see me during the evening shifts. I'm not a morning person despite having coffee for blood in my veins."

Meandering along in Una's wake, she too finds a seat at the table and divests of her coat as well as scarf. Beneath these, a simple cream-colored turtleneck beneath a thin jogging vest. "I didn't get your name though?" she asks of Jonathan in particular, accompanying the question with a friendly smile in turn.

"Oodles of little red-headed mongrels which I supposedly had to baptise every single one of." Ravn rests his chin on his hand and his elbow on the table. "Really, that was -- bizarre. But, as Dreams go, pretty harmless. I should probably Google how an actual Catholic wedding goes, just in case I need to marry off someone else, some day."

He sniffs. "I did cut a rather striking figure in those robes at least. Maybe I missed my true calling. Hmm -- beer or a soda with this pizza. Heard somewhere the guy who runs this place also has some kind of micro brewery, how brave am I?"

Jonathan raises an eyebrow at the conversation about red-headed mongrels and weddings, before he lets out a bit of a breath as he hears the part about Dreams. "That sounds like a far better one than many others," he offers, before he smiles at Ariadne's question. "Jonathan Wallgren," he introduces himself. There's also a nod at Gabriella's words, "True. And also, some things may sound weird, but taste far better than that."

Gabriella drops into one of the chairs at the table as well and kicks one out for Jonathan in invitation. "I do love going there, but I'm afraid I'm a chai girl. Well, unless I'm stealing food or drink. I suppose then it's whatever I manage to get away with." Her lips curve upwards. "Do you serve just plain black coffee?" Her eyes flick towards Ravn on that one.

"You are brave. Try the beer. Then report your findings while I drink my diet coke and think about it." There is a smile towards Una too. "I mean as long as you know how it ends. My first dream in the town I was chased by floating harmonicas. I wasn't really sure what to do it with it." She lofts her shoulders and lets them fall. Then back towards Jonathan. "What about you?" It doesn't occur to her that they might not have the shine.

Una's little snort of laughter is a merry one, encompassing the whole of the conversation about those redheaded mongrels. In lieu of comment on them, however, she has a nod towards Ravn and, "Ah, but next time you'll be... I don't know, a Rabbi, maybe, and all your prep will be for naught. Get the beer."

"But yeah: harmless, as Dreams go. Luckily, none of mine have been so bad, as yet, touch wood." She raps on the table for emphasis, and probably not outright superstition.

"Nice to meet you, Jonathan." A nod for the man and Adriane's eyes lingering to take in his face as she says the name. Gabriella receives a similar pattern of behavior, mouthed name and lingered look. Perhaps the barista's memory isn't the best and this aids in identifying people later.

She pulls out her chair at the communal table and sits, sighing before she glances over at Ravn at the question about coffee. "As a matter of fact, I do. It happens to be on the menu and when nice folks ask for it, sometimes I'm merciful." She nods at Gabriella in turn, adding, "But only if they ask nicely. Otherwise, it's a triple shot of praline syrup and some whipped cream on top. I like to watch the customers attempt to vibrate into another dimension afterwards. I'd probably be the worst auntie for it. Jack up the niblings on sugar before I return them."

"Get a beer though, Ravn, like Una said. Live a little. Something dark. Dark beer's the best, none of this light dishwater stuff," the barista then opines, glancing over at Una again with a grin. She remembers their conversation at the Murder Motel, after dealing with Tommy I-Have-Too-Many-Teeth Cat. Only having had the one Dream, Ariadne elects to remain silent and see what other wisdoms appear in conversation regarding them. She hasn't had a chance to be part of a collective of locals yet, being far too new.

"You and I are the worst possible match," Ravn tells Ariadne, somberly. "I can't stand dark beer. If I want syrup, I'll order pancakes -- not that you Americans can make proper pancakes, either." He turns to the poor sucker at the counter. "I'll have whatever passes for an IPA or a wheat beer here. Something pale and not too sweet."

Then he leans in and confides in Gabriella: "I actually managed to hit her up for normal, black coffee a few times. It took making pigs fly."

Jonathan grins momentarily as he moves to take the offered seat. "Beer is like food, it all comes down to preference and what you're having with it." That done, he smiles, before he pauses briefly. "I'm not entirely sure about what the first one was, but some of them have been quite bad. Chased by monsters, being put as a character in a computer game, terrified chi..." He trails off, grimacing momentarily, especially at the lat one. "You get the picture."

Gabriella smiles when Una laughs. "Well I've really only had the one. I also learned in that one that I should sleep with some form of clothing on." Awkward. "So are each of you.. shiny? I am still learning about it, even if it's been a constant in my life. I just.. thought.." She was crazy. That lingers there without being said.

Ariane is glanced at. "You are petty..but like on the DL. I like it." A wink, but it's not a flirtatious one. "My mother is on her second family. I'm the worst big sister when it comes to that. I send them loud toys, candy. All the bad things." One doesn't have to be a mentalist to feel she misses her younger siblings.

She leans to hear Ravn's words, but not close enough to touch him. "Fuck." The word leaves her mouth. "Ravn, do you know how many things I have promised when pigs fly? Don't go doing that trick around just anyone." She teases lightly and then nods her head. "I mean, where there is a will there is a way."

Jonathan gets a lingering look to that. "Mine has either been silly or... memories. I prefer the first ones. OH.." She looks towards the table. "Did Johnny tell you that he was a famous hockey player? He still does autographs." She didn't make him part of the Olympics this time.

The low buzz of conversation seems to please Una, who skirts around the edges of the ongoing exchanges rather than jumping into the middle of each in turn. It's enough to be part of this little impromptu group-- or at least partly enough, because it's not as though she says nothing at all.

"If we weren't," she jumps in to say, in reply to Gabriella, "I think there'd be a lot of rationalisation going on around this table already. I don't know Jonathan," hi Jonathan, "but it seems like a safe bet. It's good having a community, huh?"

Not crazy. Or, at least, not crazy because of that.

"Whatever dark beer you're talking about is clearly the wrong kind of dark beer -- and you're only convincing me of your terrible taste there, bud," retorts Ariadne of the claim about syrupy beers. "I just like to chew my beer instead of stoop to bottled bathwater. More of that stuff for you." As to making pigs fly? The barista's grin only deepens. That had been a trick and more than likely the leading reason she continues to humor the Dane against the long-standing wishes of Della the Day Manager. She shrugs agreement as to DL pettiness; absolutely when need necessitates.

She answers Gabriella's question with, "I guess I sparkle." Another glance over at Ravn with a puckish little smirk. Forks is only an hour or two north, after all. "There's been no amnesia for me. But -- " And she fingerguns at Jonathan now. "You played hockey? Rock on. Who'd you play for? I grew up in Colorado, go Avalanche."

Hockey, to Ravn, is like soccer or volleyball or American football: He knows jack all about it. He's quite content to nod at the other man, acknowledging that he's somebody Ravn ought to have heard of (and hasn't, because, again, sports). "As far as I'm aware we're all -- sparkly teenage vampires, yes."

He makes a face. "I can't believe I just said that."

Then he picks up a bread stick from the basket at the centre of the table and toys with it, because when is this man's hands ever idle? "You're not wrong, though. If one of us was -- normal -- they would hear an entirely different conversation. They'd think we have some very strange inside jokes. Maybe some kind of code speech -- they might be bummed out that we're trying to exclude them like high school girls deciding who gets to sit at the communal lunch table."

Jonathan pauses for a moment at the mention of memories. "Sadly, mine has been more of some kind of warped version of those memories," he replies, before he pauses at the mention of his hockey career. "Don't know about the famous, but I did play, yes." There's a bit of a chuckle as he hears Ariadne's reply, "Then I hope you don't hold it against me that I played for one of the rivals of your local team," he offers a bit lightly. "The short time I was in the big league, I played for the Red Wings."

"Like a ... cardinal? They have red wings right? Or just the wings? That's a little messed up if it's just the wings. Not like the sea chickens." Gabriella looks around like someone is about to rise up and harm her for that comment being towards the Seahawks. "Benji made me watch a game once. Once." Then she looks at the others for a few moments of thought to that. Her head tipped as she smiles between them.

"I will say it's nice to live somewhere that I can freely talk about things. Or that people can freely explain them to me." Her lips curve easily. "Where are y'all from? I know where Ravn is from." Her eyes flick from one to the other.

Sport goes straight over Una's head, and to be honest, she may well be pretending that part of the conversation doesn't exist: lalalala.

"You make a lovely sparkly vampire, Ravn," she teases, jumping in to that thread with a snort of laughter. "As do we all. The rationalisation shit is fascinating, though. Watching people build a stable reality right in front of you. Crazy shit. I'm from Seattle, Gabriella, though my mom grew up here, and the rest of my family too as far as I know, all the way back before the founding."

Sparkly vampires deserve jazz-hands. As such, Ariadne does this before returning them to her lap and laughing faintly. Jonathan's reply has her grinning again and tilting her head with a little shake. "Well, gosh, I'm obligated to say 'boooooo' at the very least, but hey, that's still cool. You didn't play for very long then?" she asks of the former hockey player.

She can't help but briefly break focus to add, on the tail end of Gabriella's comment, "Sea turkeys, please," in a joking manner. Someone happens to like the Seahawks, apparently. "And Boulder, Colorado, whoooo, Colorado. Mostly raised here in Seattle though, so you might as well call me a local at least to Washington." She continues to reserve thoughts on the Veil-induced amnesia, still wanting to hear more from the residents of Grey Harbor first.

"Gabriella thinks she knows where I'm from, anyhow." Ravn smirks lightly -- and then busies himself pouring the beer he ordered into the glass that came with it. Pale, golden drops with an ever so faint greenish tinge -- this is a wheat beer, a very pale ale, and probably quite bitter at that.

Then he glances back at the rest. "And as far as me being a vampire goes? No. I'd make an absolutely shitty vampire. Because I'd be spending most of my time wearing black, playing the violin, and pursuing strange bits of knowledge no one else cares about. Which means that besides liking my steak a bit more raw than I do presently, there'd be no damn difference."

"Does that mean you're basically a vampire already, hmmm?" Jonathan offers to Ravn, before he offers a grin to Ariadne at the boo. "I can live with that," he offers, lightly, before he sighs, "Got a few too many knocks to the head. Turns out there was a brain in there." He then smiles, "I'm from right here in town. Got to get out for a bit, then ended up back here as I tried to recover." He takes a sip from his own beverage, before he shrugs, "Still here."

"My mother grew up here but she split with me at a young age. She does not have the shine at all. I can't imagine how this town must have been for her, but probably why she didn't want me to come back. My grandmother is still here, Gail." Gabriella looks at the others to that to see if they know the woman. "Other than that, traveled a lot, so I'm not sure I'd say I'm from anywhere myself."

Ravn's comment causes her lips to twitch upwards. "You are right.." Write that down. Those words may never leave her lips again. "I think I know." At the vampire commentary she looks him over slowly. "I would expect you to be more French. Could you take on a French accent?" Then towards Ariadne. "I'm sorry. Sea turkeys. I got it. Turkeys. I will try to remember. Please let Jonathan buy your next drink to make up for that." She smiles at the man. "That's because we are all here and you would never wish to leave any of us."

"That makes you very suspicious," Una decides of Ravn's alleged vampirism, echoing Jonathan and, in a roundabout way, Gabriella as well. "As if you weren't already, with the European accent."

Without a drink to play with, the redhead reaches for a napkin on the table, twisting it between her fingers. "My mom does shine, sparkle, whatever, but she won't talk about it. I assume that's why she left here, too: because she did see things, and managed to escape. She and your mom were probably contemporaries, Gabriella."

"Man, brains, they're too squishy. Still, good call and a good reason to get out of it," she says to Jonathan with another nod. A glance over at Ravn now and once she realizes the entire table is set to razz him, she tries very hard to refrain from joining in.

And fails. "We all know vampires have terrible taste in beer anyways. Look, even the beer sparkles." There, she's done her duty. Pans rattle behind the counter and the barista glances in that direction, stomach grumbling to itself about lunch. Maybe a breadstick. She plucks one from the table's basket and considers it. "I think I'm the only one in my family with this...shine? Shine, yeah, whatever we're calling it. I don't know much about it though. I guess a part of me is hoping to...see others do things and go from there."

Look at this gesture, Ariadne. It is universal, European accent or not.

Ravn grins slightly, and lowers his hand to his glass again. "You all realise that there are quite a lot of people on this planet who have European accents, yes? Also, puh-lease. I'm a folklorist. If I have to be the resident vampire, at the very least let me have a Romanian or Greek accent. Denmark does not have vampire myths. We have faerie beings that suck the life out of you, but not the walking dead."

"Then go for the Romanian one, friend." Jonathan is unable to resist a very comical Eastern European accent, before he chuckles. "I didn't experience it much before I returned here. I guess barely being able to move around without the skull feeling like it was about to explode made me more aware of it, or something like that."

Gabriella winces a moment to that. It's almost like the idea of someone knowing her mother... "She's different now. I mean she got married a few years ago.. five, I think? She has a whole new family now. She's completely changed." There is a quick explanation before she looks around and a hand comes out for Ravn's beer. If he doesn't think fast or block her. Colored water is fine when you need a distraction.

"Me too, Ariadne. I'm still learning, but I made some... tragic errors in my past because of it. I can step over and a lot of things happened without me realizing I was manifesting them and.." That moment you realize no one wants to hear about this stuff. "People are really good at explaining it. How they understand it, that is. Have you met Alexander?"

"They don't have any vampire myths? Like at all? From no one?" Gabriella squints at him. "Is that because in Denmark, they aren't myths and we've had it wrong in Hollywood all along?" She studies him a bit more as if she'd really like to test him for a pulse. "I like fae, sort of. There are all the rules. Like not thanking them and stuff like that though. Or the rules they just make up on the fly..." Her eyes slide over towards Jonathan now. Her eyes soften. "If you ever need someone to talk to about that.."

Una's mouth twitches, and she can't help herself: "We're Americans, Ravn. Europeans are utterly indistinguishable to most of us. Though-- life-sucking faerie beings sound pretty cool too."

She's caught Gabriella's discomfort, and though it takes her a few seconds more, her response is warm, with an edge of understanding. "I don't know anything about your mom," she says, "But I'm glad it sounds like she's doing well for herself. This town can really screw people up, I think. I mean... look at all of us."

She sets down her napkin. "I found out what I could do when my convenience store was being held up. I was... eighteen? I could've handled it better."

Gesture received and the barista circles the breadstick in Ravn's direction, smirking. "Aw, it's like you're a vampire after all, I feel so vindicated." At Jonathan's mimicry of the accent, she wince-laughs. "That'll do, Drac, that'll do."

She then dedicates some moments to appreciating the breadstick. Mmm. Another is plucked because finders-keepers and who knows when they're going to run out in the basket if others get to grabbing. Glancing over at Gabriella, she sighs.

"I haven't met Alexander yet, no -- or if I have, I wrote his name on a to-go cup because maybe he got a tall latte, not sure." The barista is pragmatic about it, shrugging again. "Either way, if he's got a good explanation, I'm fine with hearing it. I'm not too proud to admit that I know nothing about what's really going on. I got the Hotel California speech," she adds, glancing between Una and Ravn. "That helped a lot with the cat with too many teeth."

"Nordic mythology is pretty adamant that once the dead are dead they stay dead. Their souls go elsewhere, and we can certainly argue about where, but the body is dead meat. Our dead may come back as ghosts, but they do not come back as vampires." Ravn hitches a shoulder. "Sorry. No violin playing undead Elsa fantasies for you. We've got plenty faerie creatures, though."

He sips his beer. "You have no idea how many vampire jokes I've heard over the years, though. I made a promise early on that if I ever meet a werewolf, I'll hug him, become his blood brother, and make Team Ravn absolutely not be a thing."

Jonathan's expression turns serious for a few moments as he hears Gabriella's words, offering her a od and a smile. "Thanks," he replies, before he goes back to listening at the others again, unable to hold back a chuckle as he hears Ravn's words. "Now I'm fairly sure we all would want to see you meet a werewolf," he offers, with a chuckle.

"Team Ravn is already a thing. You can't undo the.." Gabriella's lips curve upwards. It's almost comically mean. "What if I thought to myself how miserable it would make you to have to be a sparkling vampire? Surely nothing would want that misery to.." She doesn't complete it. She takes a sip of the beer and then hmms. "I do actually find it interesting that they don't have a vampiric legend. I guess, in my bias, I thought everywhere would. I suppose Americans don't either. We just took it from other cultures and made them the vampires, not us?"

Her eyes flick over towards the redheads. "You met the Un-cat too? Well at least you got to remember it. I do find it interesting to hear the justifications." She looks towards Una because she's pretty sure that she said that earlier. "Our brains are these amazing things that just want to validate things and put them in terms we can comprehend." There is a shrug of her shoulders to that before looking back towards Jonathan. "I could start telling people you are one."

"'Team Ravn'," chortles Una. "I'm so glad there's only ever one girl in that kind of story, and she's definitely not me. There's no need for there to be a team Una."

"One of the women I live with hasn't awakened to all of this yet, though I think she's close. It's so weird. In the beginning, I was paranoid about not letting her see anything weird, but now... well, it's not as if I've stopped being aware of it, if I'm honest, but I'm also used to seeing her accept things. Like the fact that I'm clumsy enough to knock mugs off tables, but also have fast enough reflexes to catch them before they hit the ground."

"But what if I want a Team Una t-shirt? Look, there's always Zazzle for this kind of stuff," Ariadne notes. Nobody let her near this website now, she has too much free time. She adds with another conducting gesture a la breadstick towards the Dane, "You could be einherjar instead. Bows and arrows. Mead. Parties all the time. Way cheerier than mopey, melodramatic sparkle-fangs."

Her attention returns again to the topic of shining and these powers. Feeling brave enough to share, she admits, quietly beneath the clatter of work behind the pizza counter, "I think I made a box of colored pencils rattle around one time when I was really mad, but I haven't seen or felt anything from me since. From me. Stuff still feels...weird sometimes and too many people are too many people. The café is my limit."

Ravn reaches for his beer glass. "I think it's going to be a pretty dull story. There's a Team Ravn, apparently, but no girl. So it's going to be me and the hypothetical werewolf, just hugging and blood bonding and having beers by moonlight while we talk about how we don't need no stinking girls. Maybe it's going to be another kind of coming-of-age story. Or coming-out story, whatever. I am Rosencrantz' straight boyfriend, and all that."

He looks at the glass. He'd have sworn it had more beer in it before. The beer weasels around here are sneaky, and blonde.

Then he looks back at Ariadne. "I know I'm Danish, but I think even I would get tired of life in Valhalla. Up in the morning, beat on people with a sword until someone kills you or you survive the day, eat pork, drink mead, sleep or resurrect in the morning. After a few hundred years that must get very dull. It's not like they get to go anywhere until the final battle."

Listening and drinking some of his own drink, Jonathan looks a bit thoughtful although he grins at some of the comments. He doesn't seem to have much to add right now, it would seem.

Gabriella considers for a moment. "I have a fondness for electricity. I can effect emotions in people. When I touch things, I can read them and memories and such from them. Most animals listen and like me. I can speak to people without really using my lips." She taps her brain a bit. Since one is going to share, she will too. It seems that she's not certain about sharing though. "Um... then there are the opening of locks, moving things from time to time, entering the Veil.. finding things when I need them. And... I tend to like fire and can do basic first aid well. I just.. I haven't sharpened these things."

In answer to Ariadne's 'Team Una' joke, Una sticks out her tongue, and laughs.

"I think I'd rather just be dead and gone permanently. No vampirism, no heaven of whatever kind, and definitely no haunting. I could do without the haunting bit."

Before Ariadne takes all the breadsticks, Una reaches out to take one, breaking off the end of it and setting the rest down upon her napkin. "Moving stuff, that makes sense to me. Healing, too, to some degree. But-- everything else you just mentioned, Gabriella, super weirds me out. People have all this crazy power, and it's still hard to get my head around it."

"What if your memory got wiped every night and you woke up every morning all raring to go? It'd probably be pretty exciting," Ariadne notes of this einherjar gig before taking another bite of her breadstick. A dark beer is sounding better and better though with the vein of conversation about these weird powers everyone seems to have.

She grins at Una's tongue and shrugs, shameless about this funning, at least. "So...with all these abilities...number one, this is like out of a comic book, I swear. Two, is there some guru around here who can train people in these? I mean, let's just say people can do these things." She lifts her hands palms out, accepting any sort of frowns in her direction. "You don't want these things happening willy-nilly. Who's the Sorcerer Supreme around here? Or...y'know, the one who teaches people to not, like, randomly make things rattle around."

Ravn cants his head and surrenders the remainder of his beer (it was kind of bitter anyway). "I can float a spoon. Or a plush Peppa Pig." He beams. Mister Powerful is really being powerful here, folks.

He nods at Una, though. "Got to admit I kind of hope to go home and haunt the hell out of my childhood home. It's sort of the family thing to do. Got half a dozen of my more interesting ancestors already prowling around the place, there's got to be room for one more. Speaking as a folklorist, can't get much closer to getting it from the horse's mouth, I figure."

Ariadne's question is pretty valid, though, and he gives it the thought he deserves. "There are a number of people to talk to, depending on what it is you need to talk about. Some are easier to find than others. August Roen knows everything about talking to animals and trees. Kailey Holt is your woman for some of the same things. Aidan Kinney and a couple of others, for healing. Itzhak Rosencrantz is the man to see about moving, and travelling in and out of the Veil. What I'd really recommend, though? Keep your eyes and ears open, and when you find that someone is talking about things that seem familiar -- swap information. Because there is no one truth, no one guide book, and no one way to do these things."

"I'm still trying to figure out what I'm able to do," Jonathan remarks, before he shrugs, "But then again, safe not to do much unless it's absolutely neeed, though. My... I mean, some of the people I know that used things very much seemed to be a magnet for the darkest of dreams, and draggoing some of us with he... them..."

Gabriella lofts her brows at Jonathan but she looks around the table a bit. "I'm afraid, I'm not sure. I didn't get trained in anything. I just sort of .. manifest it? When I want it and when I don't. When I was starving, I would find food. That sort of thing. Or I'd just be in the Veil or..." She takes the rest of the beer without much thought. Then casts a smile of thanks at Ravn.

"Ok, haunting a place with a bunch of existing ghosts might be ok," Una allows. "Hopefully better ghosts than the one I have. I'm still not sure it's for me, though. Ah, sweet oblivion." Beat. "But not anytime soon, thanks."

She's straightened, interested, as others answer Ariadne's question. It postpones her breadstick eating; this is more important. "Have you actively tried to do anything?" she wonders, the question aimed at Ariadne, though it's open to others to jump in too. "Or has it all been accidental? It could be interesting to experiment. Though," she gives Jonathan a slightly uneasy nod, "I've heard that too. The more you do it, the more..."

Ravn nods at Jonathan. "From everything I am told and everything I've seen, there are two ways to attract a lot of attention: Use a lot of power, and be a pain in the ass as far as the Veil creatures are concerned. Myself, I don't have a lot of power, but I do tend to be a weirdness magnet because of the HOPE Centre. Don't use power frivolously is the advice I want to give, but eh, if I feel like floating a plushie or bending a spoon, I bloody well will."

He might have been about to say more when his pocket buzzes. Checking it reveals a bright pink cell phone casing with a Hello Kitty stencil -- and a frown. Then the Dane sighs and gets up to walk to the counter. "I'm going to need to take my pizza to go. I have a student with a meltdown at what's three am Copenhagen time -- and this guy needs all the help he can get. It's hard to study when half your mind is still in Afghanistan."

While the pizza is slid into a box he throws an apologetic glance back at the others. "I'm sorry. I'll come by the coffee shop soon enough, and I'm always at the HOPE Centre if any of you need to talk about all this here shine weirdness. It's what I do. Or it's part of what I do, anyway."

Then he's off with the roar of a motorcycle engine, into the night. It's going to be a long night for him.

"No, I haven't tried to do anything. I don't really even know how I did it in the first place," Ariadne explains, expression somewhat forlorn. "I kind of lost my temper the first time and I was a teenager anyways. It's been years since then. Sam doesn't give me any indicators anything funny is going on either. Sam's my dog," she adds to those unknowing at the table."

"I need a guru though, I think, so...I'm open to suggestions." The barista shrugs again. Ravn's brisk departure earns him a concerned frown and a wave nonetheless. "Good luck!" she calls out.

Jonathan nods a little. "A guru, or coach or mentor or something would be quite useful," he offers, with a quiet smile. Pausing as Ravn leaves, he nods after the man, but doesn't say anything for now.

Gabriella looks up with interest as Ravn leaves. It's more the why he leaves that grabs her attention. "Call or text if you need anything." Then she looks back towards the others. There is a thoughtful look. "I've never really willed myself to do something, consciously. I let a few people enter my mindscape, but they don't really see much. My .. well.. it's shrouded." Of course it is.

"Most things that have happened. I just did because I wanted to, but when I was younger. Either I needed for something or I was protecting myself. So then it happened. I've never tried to use it." There is a shrug of her shoulders. "It's kind of like a passive element that exists for me. I think it manifests differently for others."

Una lifts a hand after the departing Ravn, her expression thoughtful with brows knit together and lips pursed. When she glances back at the others, it's to lean back in her chair and reach for her breadstick again. Hopefully, if Ravn has his pizza, theirs must be coming soon.

"We could experiment," she offers Ariadne. "In my backyard, or somewhere like that. Somewhere safe. See if we can push you into doing it again."

Still, she laughs: "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing either, though, so. What would I know. Is our pizza ready, do you think?"

"Sure, Una, I'm down for experimenting as long as the fairy ring doesn't influence anything. There's a fairy ring in someone's backyard around that neighborhood, I remember Ravn mentioning it. I don't know if anything is going to happen no matter what we try, but...there's that saying about you'll never know at all if you don't try and maybe all I do is make somebody's basket of petunias go flying. It'll be proper irony in comparison to the flying pig."

Ariadne glances in the direction of the counter at Una's observation. "Just maybe," she singsongs, seeing silver trays being grabbed up. "Good timing for that pizza. I'm starving."

Jonathan smiles as he listens to the others. "It's always good to learn more about one's abilities," he offers, before he looks up as he hopes the pizzas are on the way s well.

At last: pizza!