10197/Something Caffeinated This Way Comes

Something Caffeinated This Way Comes
Date of Scene:	19 February 2022
Location:	Coffee of DOOM
Synopsis:	Nettie makes an appearance at the coffee shop, and a friendship of sorts is sparked between her and Billy Kaplan.
Cast of Characters:	Billy Kaplan, Nettie Crowe

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Billy Kaplan has posed:
It's a slow Saturday and a rare weekend when Billy does not have very much in the way of school work to do. NYU doesn't believe in relaxed weekends for its students, so Billy's taking advantage of the unusual opportunity. He's sitting alone at a table. His black leather jacket is over the back of his chair. On the table is a vaping device, a cup of orange-liqueur infused house special coffee, his cell phone, and a stack of psychiatric journals. He has one open and is reading. Once in a while his hand goes absently to his vape to turn it around in his fingers. You can't really vape anywhere inside these days, but the feel of it comforts him.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie Crowe doesn't often scope out the competition. The Booke, Candle & Belle Tea shop was a much smaller, niche, less decorated, simpler and (in her opinion) far less ostentacious than this place -- but where else are you going to get a variety of Latverian finger foods in New York City?

    She slips in, white hair tucked under the hood of a borrowed sweatshirt, wearing a swishy, layered skirt against the chill of New York in the Winter Time, and the tap of heeled boots, taking one last draw of her hand-rolled ciggarette before she makes her way into Coffee of DOOM.

    Oh, this place is *quite* fancy.

    She tilts her head a moment, as if hearing some odd bit of music. Her lips purse, and the pale witch draws her attention across the space.

    "Huh..." she murmurs to herself. "An' what sort of mystery are we coming across today?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Taking a long draw from the coffee Billy looks up when the door opens. The whiff of the cigarette hits him and lights up his brain. He misses cigarettes, but he's trying to quit with vaping as his intermediate step.

But something else lights up his brain even more. Who IS this person coming in now. He sets down the journal that he's reading and sits up straighter in the chair. He's not even being subtle about watching Nettie very intently, with equal parts curiosity and interest. He even allows a small smile to creep over his face. It's not every day that something chills him, and he sort of likes the feeling.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    The woman, looks maybe in her late twenties, early thirties, orders herself a coffee and a plate of water cookies. Second best thing to come out of this country, and she turns around. Eyes draw over the crowd, until she catches the lad looking at her, and her head tilts a moment, her eyes narrowing, and then she steps over to the lad and his pile of magazines.

    "'Allo, poppet." she states, and she motions to the seat across from billy. 'This one taken?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy curiously watches Nettie approach, that smile never leaving his face. He peers over to the indicated chair and then back to Nettie. "Not unless someone invisible is sitting there. If that's the case, you two will have to work out between yourselves."

He uses his foot from under the table to push the chair back so Nettie can easily sit, should she choose to. "Dope piercings," he says, nodding in Nettie's direction. His grin gets a bit more conspiratorial and his voice lowers. "Dope aura, too."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie gives a wry smile, and using her foot she pauses the chair in its movement, and takes a seat.

    "Thank you dear. Though not often people comment on the aura in the first introduction, considered rude, in some spaces." she remarks conspiritally, clearly amused.

    "Not many would refer to it as 'dope', either," she remarks, drawing both gloved hands up and sitting them beneath her chin, "how very curious. Well, you have the dubious honor of being in the company of an old Crowe of a witch, might I have a name to address you as, lad?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy is one of the new guard. The sensibilities and decorum of the old ways mean little to these libertine heathens who favor knowledge and human dignity over all else. He holds Nettie's gaze with the sometimes-reckless fearlessness of youth.

"It's only rude if you infer it as rude," he replies with a bit of playfulness, a bit of excitement, and yes, a bit of fear in his voice. The cycles of his life have taken many mundane, banal turns of late and this new situation is quite invigorating. "I'm William Kaplan," he replies. "People call me Billy usually." He pauses, considering. What is the protocol in situations such as this? Hiding himself from the likes of her seems as pointless as a bull playing hide-and-seek in a china shop. "Sometimes I'm also called Wiccan," he decides to add, though his voice goes very soft for that last part.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Knowledge and Human Dignity. Nettie thinks she might like this one.

    "I don't. Find it curious that one young as you's picked up on it attol." she gives wry grin, the twist of her lips drawing up and causing a sparkle to her eyes. In spite of the aura of Death and dark that hangs about her, there is that flow of kindness from her eyes, true and honest.

    "Nettie Crowe. I own the Candle, Booke an' Belle in the Village." she explains. "Wiccan, mm? Curious word, that. Sister to the word 'Witch', from which old Norse, Anglo-Saxon, Old English -- language I learned as a wee one --" she trails off, and then gives a small smile. "Ah, but there I go, tangiental as ever. Forgive me for not offerin' a shake; followin' some of the odd behavior of the astral, can't be too careful with one in my *delicate* condition." she jokes.

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Having been in some /extremely/ dangerous, soul-threatening situations before, Billy is skilled at keeping a calm, cool demeanor. The only thing that betrays his electric nervousness at this new and exciting situation is his hand that starts to fiddle with his vape slowly and gently but nervously.

"Well, I'm not your average person my age," the young reality-bender offers. "As I suspect you aren't either. The name Wiccan was kinda sorta 'assigned' to me by some of my friends. I used to go by Asgardian but that didn't work out for...a number of reasons." He chuckles knowingly, like there is a joke in there somewhere.

"They make these cherry cakes here that are amaaaaaazing. I was just about to get some. You want any while I'm up?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Aye, cannae imagine that the likes of Loki or Thor enjoy association with wee lads." she replies, and she gives a wave, "If you buy this round, I'll get the next, Lad. You schoolin' nearby then, lookin' at this light reading."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy hops lithely up and trots over to the counter. He orders four thick slices of cherry cordial-soaked cakes on a big plate and grabs two small plates. He comes back to the table and sets the big plate in the middle, sets one of the small plates in front of Nettie, and plops a thick-boi slice of cake onto his plate.

He sets the pile of psychology journals on an empty chair. "This is just pleasure reading. I go to NYU. I wanted to major in psychology, it's always been an interest of mine. Ultimately I landed on poly-sci for a major. Sometimes when I get free time I chill here and drink way too much coffee and catch up on these dudes," he says, gesturing absently at the pile of journals.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "I see, I remember when all this was new. Psychology, I mean. Leipzig, I think. Always found it fascinatin', but for the explaining away the demons that sometimes haunt a body with just the right dosages of acid or amphetamines." she gives a wry smile, and she also plops a slice of the cake to her plate. "Thank you, Billy, quite kind of you. And here I was hoping there wouldn't be a fight -- not often I meet with someone with such... Depth." she decides on the word, and she gives a slight nod.

    "Poly-sci? Is that..." she pauses a moment, her eyes going distant "... political science, politics and dealing with all manner of lousery 'cross countries and souch, os is that a multiple science discipline?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy shovels a big bite of cake into his mouth and washes it down with a gulp of coffee. Apparently our magic boi loves his cake!

"Well political science feels like an oddly modern byproduct of globalization," he says, so excited to talk about the subject that he's actually still chewing his cake as he speaks. He's not trying to be rude, he's just young and excited and nobody really ever asks him interesting questions.

"I mean, studying politics as a social science is such a modern human construct. There are a few sub-disciplines of poly-sci. I haven't gotten to the point yet where I have to make a decision, but probably next year when I'm picking classes I will. I'm leaning toward comparative politics, which most closely resembles true scientific study. It focuses on how the politics of countries compare. It dives real deep into sociology."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nothing wrong with a boy who likes cake. Nettie has a sweet tooth, and she's rolling the taste about as she watches Billy get excited both with cake and his explaination.

    "I see -- so the dichotmy between different countries as a macrocosm, or does the microcosm between even neighborhoods have much baring in the science aspect in the Political part?" she questions thoughtfully, "Or expand it further -- clusters of nations and say, Asgard. Or other worlds. What's the scalability of political sciences when studying the comparative qualities in small groups versus larger groups?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy gestures with his fork. "Keep in mind that I'm a sophomore. I'll be getting into my electives next year, so a lot of this stuff is still theoretical to me. But the microcosm examination of comparative politics can look /inside/ a single national unit to see how political choices unfold. Take the U.S. and how divided Democrats and Republicans are. OR..." He pauses to shove some more cake in his mouth. Suddenly it's like he's 12 years old. His eyes glitter energetically. He becomes hyper-focused on his subject matter. He continues, again without fully processing the cake in his mouth first. "...a macrocosm examination of how politics of close and far-away neighbors develops. A prime example is the weird relationship between the U.S. and Russia, which really owes so much of its tension to how poor and broken Russia was when the Soviet Union fell and how quickly it tried to embrace behavior that would win the favor of the United St..."

Suddenly he stops and takes a breath. "I'm...I'm sorry." He lets out a nervous laugh. His cheeks are a bit ruddy now. "My mom always tells me I get too pulled inside my head. I didn't mean to ramble on." He offers an apologetic, nervous smile to Nettie. "You didn't come here to talk about political science." Canting his head a bit to once side, he asks curiously, "Why did you come here, come to think of it? Didn't you say you own your own shop?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Quite all right, Billy, it's nice to see young people excited by things, especially things beyond this... ticky-tock dance?" she states, and she mimics 'the floss' a moment, and she shrugs her shoulders. "Last time I was involved in multinational politicking, the whole world was involved in it. Didn't care much for it then, but finding out the difference between the man behind the desk and the man in the foxhole or trench in how they view it --" she gives a small, toothy smile. Almost predatory.

    And then she scoops another big bite of cake.

    "Read my cards, they said I should take a walk and find something sweet. Been a while since I'd had stroopwaffles."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy lets out a truly genuine laugh when Nettie does the floss. His eyes glitter with life and energy and youth. At first blush, he seems like someone who just /lives/ unapologetically and has that audacious, almost childlike confidence that his moral compass in the world is True and Correct. The Universe, no doubt, has some hard lessons in store for this one, but for now he still dwells in the invulnerability and faith of the young.

"I haven't had stroopwafels in /ages/," he remarks. Then he gets a bit quiet, a bit serious. "Do you use cards as artifacts to access divination magic?" Billy asks the witch curiously. His tone indicates he is taking her words very seriously, there is no disrespect or teasing coming from this dude. "Could you access the same magic without the cards, just by willing it into existence?" Willing it into existence? Just...how powerful is this one, exactly? Who even asks that sort of question?

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    The plate of wafer cookies are pushed to Billy.

    "They're a tool. We can look at the stars by going outside at night, but we see the details by using a telescope. A blade of grass, a fleck of onion look so much more detailed and close beneath a microscope. Most people cannot push a nail into wood, and need a hammer's aid." Nettie gives a small smile.

    "I can access different magic without tools, but with time and tools it's easier by far. So much knowledge and details, worked up into this wee head of mine, lad." she smiles, and she taps her temple with the not-business-end of her cake fork, and gives a wink to Billy.

    "I'm just a harmless old lady, though I carry a world of pain and misery on me back."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy reaches out quickly and grabs a wafer cookie. On college campuses, treats disappear /fast/ and he learned to take what's offered while the taking is good. He crunches a big bite as he listens to Nettie's explanation. This is what it feels like to have someone /riveted/ on your words, Nettie. He is absolutely focused on what the witch is saying. Billy grabs knowledge with the same vigor that he grabs Dutch wafer cookies.

But finally he smiles and lets out a small laugh. "I ain't been around the block anywhere near as many times as you, but even /I/ know that harmless people never describe themselves that way." He gestures toward Nettie with what's left of the stroopwafel he's eating. "You have power and I wouldn't tangle with you on a bet." That coming from the prophesied future god-being of the universe.

He plops the remainder of the wafer in his mouth, chewing contentedly.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie gives another toothy smile.

    "You're sharp, lad, I'll give you that." she states with a smile, and she holds her hands out, open, gloved palms up.

    "You're too right. I am a dangerous lady, to those who aren't in the know, or those who tread a little too closely to the side of history they ought not." she explains, and she folds her hands. "But you were able to pick me right out of the crowd. Only one or two other folks I've ever come across who could pull that off, and they're both very powerful sorcerers." she gives a grin, and then she waves one hand in the air. "Well. One's from an ancient bloodline, the other's some poor sod from Merseyside."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "There are weird prophesies about me." He clearly doesn't really like talking about this stuff. "Honestly, I think they probably mostly overblown bullshit, but some people who are smarter and wiser than I am take them seriously." He shrugs a bit.

"I figure prophesies are just possible glimpses into the future, what /might/ be if a trillion universal variables all happen to line up in some perfect way. So I just live my best, authentic life day-to-day and try to be the best man I can be." He shrugs a bit, clearly eager to get off this subject.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie gives a small smile to Billy.

    "Sometimes they tell a glimpse, but never the whole truth of it. And those who are bound to the truth of it only reveal as much as they need to." she comments in a very quiet fashion. "Cold comfort as it is, lad. I've had to tell more than one friend that the circumstances of their passing to be something else -- or somewhere else -- in the gentlest ways possible as to not challenge the strings of fate. Those are strings..." she pauses, and lifts a cup to her lips.

    "... that don't like to be played."

    Wait. Where did she get a tin cup? Why is there the smell of pine? Is she drinking *gin* in a coffee house?

    So many mysteries. NEttie re-caps her flask, and she digs into the cake again.

    "So, NYU Mm? Moving back in after the extended holiday break then?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy lifts one eyebrow curiously when he smells the gin. He gives a playful glance to Nettie's flask then to his now-empty coffee mug.

"Nah, I stay with my parents. They have a place in Manhattan. I just..." He was about to casually say something but stops himself. "...I just, um, commute to school." He's not sure if he should say 'I teleport or fly to school, depending on my mood' so he leaves it at 'commute.'

"So tell me about your shop? I haven't been. What's its deal?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie gives a roll of her eyes, and then she pours a little of her gin into the mug as quietly as she can. She shouldn't be corrupting the youth. What would her friends say?

    Probably just a pair of facepalms, and Constantine laughing.

    "That's the way to do it. Cheaper, and the food's better at home. I went to college in the 70's on a bit of a lark. Wanted to get a shingle to put on the wall." Nettie explains easily to Billy.

    "Oh, you know. it's a magic shop, tea shop, bit o' this, bit o' that, somewhere between a Metaphysical Hot Topic and a low-key Starbucks... whatever the former is." she gives a sniff. "Nothing like in Camden."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
With a blink, Billy notes, "You went to college in the 70s? You...you look like yer 30. How is that possible?"

He takes a big swig of the gin and doesn't even flinch. Billy likes his poisons. He stuffs his head with as much knowledge as he possibly can. And what he can't fill with knowledge, he fills with nicotine and alcohol and weed. Anything that will insulate him from this stupid prophecy that hangs over his head like the Sword of Damocles. He may play it cool, but that whole business really bothers him.

"Where is it? Can I come by sometime?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "What? The Shop? or Camden? Camden's in London, southish -- but if you're talking about my Candle? Well, that's in the Village, lad. I'm even on The Google and The Twitters." she states. Purposefully messing up the sites with a little grin.

    "An' I'm old, lamb. I was born while this country was fightin' over the right to own another human being."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy whistles low. It doesn't even occur to him to doubt Nettie. He sensed her power before she opened the front door. He knows he's in the presence of Someone Powerful. He stands up and grabs his empty coffee cup.

"You want somethin' while I'm up? It's on my dad." Billy laughs a little bit. "Don't worry, he's got more money than he knows what to do with."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "No, no, I'm good.. still have more cake and cookies. You're lucky I don't view these as OSHA-regulated building materials." she offers as a joke.

    And then she thinks. "If they have one of those orangey sparkly water things."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy returns to the table with a refill on the house specialty orange-liqueur infused coffee and a bottle of orange fizzy water for Nettie.

"So what d'ya do with all of your time?" he asks curiously, sipping the coffee slowly. "What a gift, to live so long." Spoken like someone who hasn't had to live that long.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie gives a wry smile. "Oh, bit of this, bit of that." she replies, shrugs her shoulders. "Managed to squeak out a bit of 'family burial plot' coverage that pays for m' shop and some incidentals from my brother's shipping company. Retain some rights and shipping contracts. Built up a town, once. Wrecked a couple temples."

    She tilts her head back, thinking. "I drove ambulences for a while during one of the wars. Drove a tank through a wall once, that was fun. Little more rowdy than the RAF liked their nurses, mind." she gives a wry little smile.

    "You find things to do, hobbies to pursue. Collections to build up."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Once again Billy sits riveted on Nettie's words. "You drove a tank through a wall!" he chirps with delight. "You musta been a real ballbuster, weren't ya?"

He scoops a second piece of cake onto his plate, leaving one left for Nettie. "You /gotta/ tell me how a nurse ended up in a tank. Seriously. You can't leave me hangin' here, Nettie."

He shovels another generous piece of cake into his mouth, chewing with his eyes glittering happily. Whatever mystical weight he carries is gone at the moment as Billy enjoys some genuine fellowship with another mystical being. He doesn't have to hide or couch his words with this one.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Oh good god this is a story I told 'round a bunch of lads after a Liverpool game while I was bein' a bit punk-rock in the eighties." Nettie gives a smile, reaching for a case in her pocket, and she gives a small wrinkle of her nose, giving a smile. "Oh you don't wanna hear about a buncha ladies goin' on a bit of a bender on a night off, lad. 'Sides, what sort of pillar of the community would I be if I started tellin' all my sordid stories about the wars?" she asks, plaintively, bringing one gloved hand up as she presses the back to her forehead, and then leaned forward, and she fiddles with a cloth packet.

    "So. Me, m' wife and six of our closest friends and cohorts -- two pilots an' six nurses all together decided we were due a bit of R&R. Now," she gives a grin, and claps her hands together. And There was just a bit of illusion.

    It showed some figures, women, wearing nurse's caps and two with aviator hats, in the woods. One was naked, but politely covered by little feathers for a PG-13 viewing.

    "We ended upc losin' down the local public house with a *rousing* rendition of On Ilkla Moor Baht 'at -- official song of m' native lands, mind, at the same time as singing a bit of a ditty from m' lassie's native Ireland called Seven Drunken Nights, in spite of the fact that we were eight drunken ladies, and somehow I'd lost my skirt and knickers and jumper in the process... was a bit of a wild one in my seventies, aye." she gives a grin. The figures all spin and circle.

    "An' so's we came upon these lads three, guardin' a captured tank. What *LOCK*, thought I, as I was a wee bit chilled on account of being a wee bit naked... so's while my friends chatted up the lads, me and my lady love stole the tank."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy's eyes glitter enthusiastically during the tale -- complete with images! When Nettie describes losing her skirt and knickers, he breaks into an enthusiastic laugh. His cheeks and the sides of his neck are red.

"Okay you left out the most important part!" Billy exclaims. "You said you stole a tank and drove it through a wall. You never said anything about being NAKED while you stole it." He tries to take another drink of coffee but his residual giggles won't allow it quite yet.

"So when they found you naked in a tank with another woman, what did they say? Was it chill to be gay then? I know in the U.S. it used to be considered a crime, and then a mental illness." Billy rolls his eyes at the very thought of it. "People," he says, shaking his head. "Always looking to fabricate excuses to destroy each other."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Was gettin' there, lad, all in good time." Nettie comments, "Anyway, since my lovely lady was night-blind on account of my paleness and I was drunk, we ended up crashing in through the wall of a house that -- lo and behold! -- had a couple of folks who were fixing to make off with some information to Berlin. Had to make a report in a pair of old nan's knickers and a nightshirt since I 'Sacrificed my Uniform' for victory an' had to pull it offa m'self on account of psychotropic substances."

    And she gives a small, conspirital smile.

    "Billy. Weren't a lady in the corps who wasn't just a little bit gay. It was the one place you could go an' have a respectable job an' pay for yourself and a little left over besides. If they'd tried to squirrel out the gay women an' men-- which they *tried*, true -- there would have been an awful lot of men stuck doin' secretary work. An' it's not just the toughs like Carter that allowed us to step out a bit. They couldn't get rid of us. The Army, Navy, Marines, Hell, every branch *needed* their secretaries and nurses and typists and code breakers. Wasn't a lot of glory, no, but it gave you your freedom. An' when someone came sniffin' about for us, we all banded together." she recounts quietly, and then she fiddles with the fork.

    "... after the war was a different story. When you couldn't shoot at Nazis anymore, you turned to your fellows... my wife perished during the war. I'm glad she wasn't about durin' the aftermath, though I am Viciously Proud of my friends who were, and who remained." she adds in a quiet tone. Her fingers busily tap at the little cloth case.

    God, she wants a cigarette.

    "But you don't wanna hear about that."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy glances down at the cloth case then back up Nettie. He quirks a half-grin. "You got one of those for me?" he asks. "I haven't had a cigarette in /ages/." He lifts the vape from the table and turns it around in his fingers. "This thing isn't very satisfying, to be honest."

He stands up and pushes his chair in, leaving his jacket on the chair to mark that he's coming back. "C'mon," he says. "You can tell me all about how you ended up here in the U.S."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Only if you like old lady hand-rolled cigarettes with no filter. I've been smoking since I was twelve." Nettie replies back, and she stands up, going to hop outside. Most places like this have a smoking section, don't they? Barring that, she slips out the front door and a little to the side, pulling a black bic out of her front pocket.

    "What's tae tell?" she asks with a shrug. "Followed the money. The new-age movement in the UK died down a bit, I got tired of gettin' harassed by skinhead Nazi punks, and took a bit of a sabatical to a building I bought in the 50's and partially built up in the 70's." she explains, offering a hand-rolled and very tobacco cigarette to Billy.

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Smoking section? This is New York. Smoking inside will get you shot and then arrested. Billy follows Nettie outside where the other smokers huddle for their 'shameful' habit. He accepts the hand-rolled cigarette and bums a light. Closing his eyes, he inhales deeply, holds it, and then lets it out slowly.

"Oh my gods, I haven't had a real drag in so long." He nods towards Nettie. "So you have this shop. You clearly have a great deal of capability. Loads of knowledge and wisdom. What do you /do/ with it all? Do you work with any 'groups'? Do you have, I dunno, like a mission?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Awful lot of questions you're asking for such a wee lad." Nettie gives a small smile.

    "There's a group that was started up. I'm... a fringe member, as it were. Have a bit of a issue with some of the authorian types trying to weedle information outta me that I don't care to share." she smiles. "So mostly I run a nice, quiet tea shop and measure out graveyard dirt and herbs for people who've read Buckland and Granger and fancy themselves witches for a few years as teenagers. And sometimes... I get to meet the most *remarkable* people." she gives a grin.

    "What about you, Billy? You looking for more magical mischeif? Mystic mayhem? A bit of the ol' exploration and possible horrible after effects?"

    She pauses, her cig perched in her lips. "... like that time my buddy Ray shit glitter for a week after crossing the bad side of a wee folk in Ireland."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy snorts out a lungful of smoke at the glitter remark. "Oh no, I couldn't handle that." He finally settles into a more relaxed posture. "Well to be honest I'm mostly a college student. I mean, that occupies the majority of my time. There is a group that I do occasionally run with a little bit, help out where I can. They're honorable, good people. Sometimes I wonder how well I fit in, but I think that's more because I don't give them the time that maybe they deserve"

The young magic-user peers at Nettie for a moment then out at the passing cars. "Honestly, it's really easy for me to focus on regular, mundane stuff. It keeps my mind off all this prophecy stuff. It keeps my mind off of a lot of things."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "I figured. Most well-adjusted people don't ask for gin in the afternoon from a stranger. Honestly, lad, I could have just drugged an' made off with you. For shame. I'm telling y'mum." Nettie threatens without any teeth, and she gives a nod. "There are a lot of honorable, good folks. And some honorable not-so-good folks, full disclosure, I'm probably the latter." she explain swith a soft hum as she takes a long drag and she holds it in thought.

    "The folks I run with these days, some of them were the folks fighting angels. M'lad John, his best mate's still lost from it all. Nothin' without risk. Feel for his kids." she states quietly, and gives a soft hum.

    "But wouldn't mind having a few contacts. There's a war brewin' on this side. I can feel it in these old bones. Familiar faces are going to start risin' from the dark soon."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy finishes the cigarette and tosses the little bit that's left into the cone-cigarette-butt-station thingy.

"A war?" he asks. Nettie has his undivided attention now. "What do you mean by a war? What kind of things do you sense?" If there's one thing Billy respects it's the supernatural sense of magically inclined people. "I've felt this...this...I don't know, just like a tension in the air everywhere. Sometimes I have a hard time separating what I can sense magically and the normal stressors of my everyday life. But, I'm feeling something real, aren't I?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "... well. There recently was a big fight regarding reality. New York's reopening. The tourists are even coming back. It could be the tourists... all their tatchkey-purcheses and asking if I've ever neen up tae the Empire State Buildin'..." she frowns a moment, and she leans against the wall.

    "... whenever you start gettin' people with visions of Angels and the End Of the World, there's always the type of person who gets real happy for it, if you know what I mean. ANd when it's taken away from them, they can get pissy." she frowns.

    She looks at the burning cherry of her cigarette in introspection.

    "Tell me, Billy. What do *you* feel?"

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy leans back against the side of the building, his hands behind his back. He watches passers-by and cars quietly for several moments. "I feel like..." He stops, thinking, contemplating, choosing his words.

He looks back to Nettie. "I feel like somehow the universe got a lot smaller, like we can't count on just being some little planet in the unimaginable vastness of the cosmos anymore." He's quiet again for several beats before adding, "I feel like we are...being looked at, and that maybe it's not a good thing."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "... that you're not wrong about, boyo." Nettie replies darkly, and she turns to him.

    "There are eyes of things that we cannot comprehend set on our little mudball of a planet. Things old and unfathomable, aye. I used to be a necromancer, in my darkest days. I've looks into the abyss... didn't care for what looked back." she murmurs quietly.

    "... things are in motion. Not just things that bump in the night, no." she mumbles. "... soddin' -- sound like I'm quoting Tolkein."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy frowns a little bit, pursing his lips. "It seems like I was born into the wro..." He glances over as some guy quickly leaves the coffee shop and starts heading down the sidewalk carrying a black leather jacket, moving at a brisk pace. Billy looks in the window at where he was sitting and then back to the guy who is already a good distance away.

"Hey man, not cool! That's my jacket!" The man just bolts like greased lightning, tearing off through the crowd. "That's my dad's jacket from back in the day. He gave it to me." Billy starts running.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Sonovabitch." Nettie states, and she gives a sharp whistle.

    There's a black, feathery flash that passes by Billy.

    The crow, not one of the big american ones, but a smaller British carrion crow croaks in warning at the theif, coming down to try and scratch with his feet, buffet with his wings and peck at the cheeky punk's eyes!

    Nettie's just leaning against the wall, watching, finishing her cigarette.

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy arrives as the guys is fending off the crow. He looks curiously at the bird, then back at Nettie with a curious grin. The thief dropped the jacket on the sidewalk and Billy picks it up and puts it on. He pulls the vape out of the pocket and frowns. The dude stepped on it while he was dealing with the attacking avian.

Billy puts the broken vape in his pocket and seems to be murmuring something under his breath. No doubt Nettie can sense he is using some magic right now, nothing major just a small spell of some sort. He arrives back to where the witch is finishing her smoke.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    The crow that lent a wing to harry the attacker looks particularly pleased with himself. He's landed on Nettie's shoulder, claws digging into a pad beneath the sweatshirt she was wearing, and Nettie gives a placid sort of grin.

    "Corvax, this lad is Billy Kaplan. He's someone special." she states as she pushes herself to a regular stand.

    The bird, with its ruby eyes, tilts its head this way and that and then states, sounding like an old-time pirate.

    "You think they're *all* somethin' special, Nettie, they all still end up the same way."

    "Ah, hush, love."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Billy lifts his eyebrows as the bird lands on Nettie's shoulder. And when he talks with such independent eloquence his look of surprise doubles. He gives off a small smirk. "Nice t'meet you, too," he murmurs at the bird's cryptic response. "Everybody's a critic."

He tugs the vape -- now completely whole and functional -- and takes a draw off it before returning it to his pocket. "That's fuckin' south Manhattan for ya."

He gives a nod to Nettie. "Thanks. It's a bit more subtle than what I was about to do."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie snorts. "That's everywhere, love, New York isn't *that* special." she jokes.

    Corvax gives a snort, and fluffs out his feathers in the chill air.

    "No thanks to me, I 'spose. Chopped eel I am, I'm the one who woulda gone to Hell if he'd aimed a fuckin' proper shot mate." the crow complains. A couple of people turn and stare at the witch as she takes out some of the wafer cookies, and offers one up.

    "Hush yeself, bird, or there's gonna be a pie crust with your name on it."

Billy Kaplan has posed:
A small smile creeps over Billy's lips. "Now that you mention it, I could really go for a nice slice of crow pie." He's being playful, of course, but also he is testing some of the limits of this bird. Always curious, this one, always researching.

A guy with a bunch of face tats comes up to Billy. "Glad you got your jacket back, man. Fuck that guy for tryin' to steal it."

Billy shrugs a little. "Thanks, man, but all I did was go pick it up off the ground." He gestures toward the bird with a flick of his head. "The bird there really did all the work."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Uuggh, muggles." Corvax could be heard muttering. That makes Nettie exhale smoke out through her nose, bringing one gloved hand up to cover.

    "Aye, clever wee beastie my bird is." Nettie explains, but between the cookies and the complements, Corvax seems mollified, and hops up onto Nettie's hat-covered head and settles. It appears this is normal ritual for them.

    Nettie then produces, with a flick of her hand, a card. The card has a print of of one of the major arcana Tarot cards -- https://i.pinimg.com/236x/3a/75/f8/3a75f8f5f30f9752b358c64ca8f7b764.jpg -- The Wheel of Fortune -- and on the other side is an address, and "Friends are Welcome at All Hours'.

Billy Kaplan has posed:
Smirking a bit at the flourishy card production, Billy reaches out to take the card. He looks it over on both sides. "This your shop?" he asks.

He fits bumps the tatted dude, who walks away after congratulating him on the jacket recovery.

"I'd like to come by some time and check it out. Maybe we can talk more freely. There are things I don't feel like I can say out here with lots of people around. And anyway, I told the 'rents I'd be home for dinner tonight."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Absolutely. Come by any time. The door will open for you so long as you have that card." she remarks with a quiet 'mm' sound.

    "It was a pleasure to meet you today, Billy. I'm sure you're what my cards told me I should find today. Travel safely, keep well." Nettie gives a slight wave to Billy, turns, and produces not only the cake, but the plate it was on. Omnomnom. She's not leaving THAT behind.