Dec 05 03:16:06 107 PA - Meeting an Entertainer

From Chronicles

Dec 05 03:16:06 107 PA.

TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

It's a very, very early Tuesday, the first Tuesday of December in the delightful year 107 on the post-Apocalyptic calendar. In fact, it's so early that the clock on the wall above the coffee counter reads... 3:15am. Yeah, that's a pretty early - or late - time for anyone to be up. Not only that, but it's early winter in the ex-state of Missouri, which means that it's cold, wet, and windy. The kind that comes to a head driving people indoors, if they do happen to be up at this hour. One such person is a shorter man, half-gray, half-black head of hair. Not more than 5-foot, really. Maybe 5'4." Older, too. Older than most people who get involved in the more interesting things that Kingsdale offers on an annual and day-to-day basis. For the moment, the man is seated, alone at the counter, the only person in the coffee shop. There's a steaming-hot cup of coffee sitting before him, and he seems lost in thought.

He's not the only one awake, or cold, or wanting some caffeine. Eddie skips inside and into the line that isn't there. Hey, there's one good thing about being awake when almost no one else is! He doesn't have to wait very long for his supermachogrande quintuple sweet quadruple espresso, iced. Nothing like an ice cold drink to make everything else feel warm.

The older man is quite relaxed, apparently happy being left alone with his thoughts. But the odd, flamboyant fellow cannot be ignored. Gabriel's head turns just enough so that he can watch the colorfully-clothed man - yes, again, someone taller than he is - skip to the counter and grab an iced coffee. Why anyone would go to a coffee shop, pay for coffee, and then pay again to turn your hot coffee into cold coffee will probably remain one of the Mysteries of the Universe for all time. From his elevated chair, he acknowledges the man's presence with a dip of his head and wave of two fingers, but that's all. He returns to his drink, and oh, it looks like some kind of bagel with cream cheese.

Eddie waves back with ten fingers and a large cup, right before he skips over. He must know him from somewhere, since he waved. Slurps are sucked through the straw on the way to make sure he has the energy to keep skipping. Another reason for getting the coffee cold: it's so much easier to drink through the big straws than the itty bitty ones. "Hi there! Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Gabriel turns his head slowly again, raising his coffee to his lips at the same time. His head is shaken slowly side to side as he sips, then the cup is set back on the counter. When he speaks, it's in a very thick Kentucky drawl - if anyone in this world knows that that is - "Know me? No. See me? Perhaps. I was at the gym earlier. Saw you ride in juggling." He eyes the man again, then adds, "Honestly, I didn't know that Harry let bicycles into his place. You were there to..." the sentence hangs out long enough to invite an answer.

"Get a workout." Eddie is quick to answer that between spurt of vacuuming caffeine. "Isn't that why everybody goes to the gym? You know, if you start far enough away you can get all that just going there? Don't even need to go inside. I guess they put all those machines and things in there for the people that live real close."

There's a shrug, and in his drawl, "I guess the art of bicycling has come a long way, friend. Personally, I'm quite happy with the running and exercising that I learned in the Corps. You need feet, you need somewhere to lay, and you need some kind of bar over your head to pull on. Thankfully, all of those things can be found at my home." Gabriel sips at his coffee again, before asking, "Forgive me for being invasive, sir, but while I admit that while I'm still new here, I imagine that I'd have noted you before. Are you new here, or have I simply been blind?"

Eddie shrugs. "I'm not new here, but I'm new and here. Maybe I'm here and new AND new to you?" Eddie grins around his straw. "That's even better, ain't it? Kingsdale's been here a long time, so it's not new. I'm not a baby, so I'm not new. Yep, must be one of the first ones. I don't ride my bike everywhere. Running's fun, too." The coffee must be working; he forgets to breath until he's halfway into waiting for Gabriel to say something.

The older man chuckles as if watching one of his children's friends play in the yard. Not as cute as his own, but of similar flavor. "I guess if I haven't seen you, it's new to me. Where you live is none of my business." After considering the other man for a moment, he rises from his elevated chair and extends a hand. "Hello, it is good to meet you, whether you are new or not. My name is Gabriel, but everyone calls me Gabriel." Perhaps for added emphasis that his name is not to be shortened. His greeting hand remains floating in space.

"Really?!" The floating hand gets taken and shaken energetically. "My name is Gabriel, too, but everyone calls me Eddie. Now you've seen me, so I guess I'm not very new. You buy a sword yet?" He must remember where he saw him before.

Smiling, again as if to one of his daughters' friends, Gabriel shakes his head. In his drawl comes, "No, no I haven't." He settles back into his chair, but with an inviting open arm toward the one next to him. "I went straight from my lessons and on to work. After work, I came here. Now I'm here, and speaking to you. So I haven't even had the opportunity to look into what kind of weapon to purchase." He sips at his drink again. "Fuck-all, I like hot coffee, but not so hot that I could throw it at someone as a weapon." He begins to lightly blow on its surface, causing little ripples to move along the top of the liquid. In between breaths he asks, again in a manner befitting what he deems speaking to a child, "What's kept you up so late, Eddie, my new acquaintance?"

Eddie shakes his cup to make the ice rattle. "Get it cold. It's not as hot that way. This isn't late, is it?" He looks at his wrist. "It's not late. This is almost the middle of the beginning of the day. I always sleep a little when everyone else is busy with boring things. That way, I don't miss anything!"

"Late and early are relative things, Eddie. If you're just waking up, it's early. If you're *still* up, it's late." Gabriel then smiles and stares at the iced drink. "I like warm coffee. Not steaming hot, not ice cold. Warm. Warm is a good middle ground, and there are times in life where middle ground is a good thing." After blowing on it for a bit longer, he states, "Maybe you should ease up on the caffeine. No offense, but you seem a little jumpy. Only time I've seen people act like that are first, if they're drinking too much coffee, or second, if they're infantry and taking amphetamines to keep them alive."

"Well, of course I'm jumpy." Eddie laughs. "Jumping is fun! You can jump in, jump out, shake it all about. It can keep you alive way better than whatever that was you just said. A little extra metal helps, too." He flicks the two-inch dome nubbin near his right temple, making a ringing *ping*

"Hmm, one of those," slides out in Gabriel's mid-tenor. Any allusion to the hokey-pokey is lost on a man who lived before it, then managed to escape it though no choice of his own. Apparently he's referring to the metallic stubs. "You know, I had a problem with people with nails and bolts coming out of their heads once. Three of 'em, they really ruined a beautiful party that was being held as a commemoration. Really pissed me off." The coffee is apparently cool enough to be barely sipped at. The older man arches an eyebrow and opines, "They were a little jumpy. A little off in what they said and did."

Eddie tsks and shakes his head. "Have to watch out for people like that. They're crazy. Probably why everyone calls them that." He shakes his head a little more and inhales more caffeine, then suddenly stops in mid-slurp and shake. "I'm not crazy, though. I mean, I am, but I'm not. Just have holes in my head. Makes my hat fit way better, too!" It's important enough that he sets down his cup to pull out an old, floppy felt fedora to slap it on in proof.

Gabriel smiles as to a child. "Yes, I can see that. It fits very nicely." He waggles a single finger in the colorful man's direction. "How old are you, anyway, Eddie?"

"Old?" Eddie blinks. "I'm not old. I thought you were the old guy?" He pulls off the hat and rolls it up to stick into his sporran. The shirt pocket isn't big enough, and no one thought about putting pockets in kilts. "I'm..." Having both hands free lets him count on his fingers. "Thirty-four.. No, wait... eighteen! That sounds not old."

Gabriel eyes the man for a while before deciding, "Late teens, early twenties. Sounds about right." Then he chuckles. "Yes, I am the 'old guy.' I imagine that you'd be hard pressed to find anyone in this city who does the occasional adventurous type work, who isn't at least fifteen years younger than I am. But with age comes wisdom and experience."

Eddie nods many times and grabs up his cup again. "Lots of scars. Probably less arms and legs, too. Don't know a lot of old guys." He takes an extra grande slurp to try and catch up. "Guess they need all that wisdom and experience stuff before they get old, so they can get old. Kind of backwards, if you asked me."

Gabriel cracks his back with a deft movement like a snake along his spine, and moves the conversation off of his own age, perhaps not feeling like discussing his past, were it to come up. "I understand that you're new and new, and not new because you're here. So where are you from?" Maybe because he wants to make the jumpy fellow more comfortable, he adds, "I'm from Kentucky."

"I'm from Kingsdale. Where's Kentucky?" Eddie watches Gabriel with curiosity while sucking at his straw. "Never been there. Sounds... different."

Gabriel grunts. "Geographically? East. Culturally? Doesn't exist." Sipping at his mug with one hand, he pokes random spots across his skull. "If you don't mind my asking," comes the drawl, "What are those metal plates for? Were you in an accident? I had a friend, we were in Soviet Georgia and he took one to the head. Lucky bastard survived, but they had to replace the shattered part of his skull with a steel plate." He juts his chin to indicate the colorful man. "Repairs for blunt-force trauma?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Nope." Then he reconsiders and nods. "Sort of. Have to have something to cover the holes. Something important could fall out if you didn't. 'Specially when I stand on my head." He leans down and grabs the large one on top of his head and turns it. It's a little hard at first, but it comes loose and spins to unscrew. Popping it off shows some shiny metal underneath with a little plug in the middle that probably goes through his skull.

There's a seriously arched eyebrow this time. "So... there *is* a metal plate in your head. But it's not because you took a blow to the head. Things fall out, figuratively speaking, when you stand on your head." Gabriel purses his lips and stares at Eddie for a while, in the silence of the empty coffee shop. "Eddie, do you know why they're there? Other than to keep things from falling out?"

"Course I do!" Eddie laughs and straightens up. "They keep my hat on." The cup gets tucked between his thighs so he can arch backwards and plant the free hand on the floor. Nothing falls out from his handstand, he doesn't spill the coffee, and lucky for everybody else, the tucked cup keeps his kilt from flopping down. "Keeps my brain and all the shiny things in there from falling out, too." Now seems like a good time to screw the stud cover back on, so he does. "Those're kind of important."

"Hmm, yes, of course. It's nice hat, and you tumble well," Gabriel replies, leaving his coffee on the counter. His fingers drum a few times. "Why do you wear a kilt? Far as I know only the Scots wear kilts, and you don't sound Scottish. The Highlander regiments? They were actually decent. Most of the British were just fluffed-up people with funny accents and bloated egos."

Eddie pushes up and tucks to land back on his feet, snatching the coffee somewhere in the middle of it. "Thanks! I like it cause it looks nice, and fits, and it was free. Guess the last guy didn't want it anymore. Maybe he cut it too short. I like tumbling. Oh!" He pats his sporran. "Want to see my blue balls? They're fun to play with, and I'm good at that, too!"

"Blue balls? Since that can be taken two ways, I'll err on the side of caution. Keep your balls to yourself, okay?" Gabriel shakes his head at the interesting, odd, and circus-like creature before him. "So, tumbling? Are you an acrobat? Street entertainer?" He narrows his eyes at Eddie. "You're not a fucking mime, are you?"

"Nope." Eddie shakes his head, stops, nods. "Yep, I'm not a mime. They can't talk, so I can't be one. I walk on the street and entertain, though. Guess you got me there." He grins, more than usual. "So what are you? Do you find stuff? Sell stuff? Dance? I do all of that, too."

The older man turns sideways in his seat, leaning his weight on the counter. "Me? Oh, most of my life is very boring, and I'm happy with it that way. I do odd jobs. You know, running errands for merchants, or getting a job on a construction site doing grunt labor. Good honest work that my parents and my family would be proud of." Something suddenly tickles his nose, because his hand shoots to its bridge and scratches for a second before dropping back again to the rear of the seat like a wet noodle. "Of course, when I see something that needs to be set right, I believe that it's my God-given duty to make it right." His hand rises once again and tickles the small silver crucifix around his neck.

Eddie tsks and shakes his head more. "Sounds like you need to get holes drilled in your head. Made things way more fun for me and everybody else. Bet it'd make you not boring, too. I do lots of things for lots of people, sometimes. Lots more than I did, you know, when I wasn't new."

Gabriel slides out of his chair and grabs his coffee. "I'll pass on that, Eddie, but thank you for the opinion." He holds the half-empty mug out toward the flashy man. "You want the rest of this? I'm ready to head home, and it seems a shame to waste it."

"Nah," Eddie's good at shaking his head, "but thanks. Still got some left." He rattles his cup again. "Maybe get another since I'm here. So you're leaving already? Ok... still early, though."

Gabriel sketches a sloppy salute, the kind that a military man might offer a civilian, but even less meaningful than that. "Yes, I need to go. I guess I just don't have as much energy as you, Eddie. Good talking with you. Don't let anything spill out of your head." The older man smiles, then slides out the door, leaving his cup on the counter behind him.