Dec 07 15:53:34 107 PA - Problems Present and Past

From Chronicles

Dec 07 15:53:34 107 PA.

TRADEWINDS COFFEE SHOP

Galvin pulls up alongside the road next to the coffee shop in his huge ATV. The three wheeled ATV doesn't seem to mind the rainfall at all as it parks. Galvin opens up the driver side door and holds up an umbrella over his head as he locks up the ATV and then hurries into the coffee shop. He pushes a button on his umbrella and it curls up quite compact and moves into the handle. He looks back outside for a moment before walking up to the counter. He orders a can of diet soda before looking at the rest of the shop for a seat.

The older adventurer is sitting alone at a table near the front of the establishment, where he can see outside and hear the rain impact the window. The opening and closing, and particularly the tinkling of the coffee shop door's bell get's his attention, and he turns to see Galvin enter. However at the moment, Gabriel simply continues to blow across the top of his beverage, creating little ripples. No need to bother another man before he's even had the opportunity to place an order.

Galvin picks up his can of diet soda and then looks over the various tables and seats of the coffee shop. Spotting Gabriel he gives the man a slight nod of his head before he walks over to the table next to Gabriel's. "Hi there." He says as a sort of greeting before he takes a seat at his own close by table. He fishes a computer out of one of his pockets and lays it on the table. Then he does the same with an optics band. "How are you doing today?" He asks as he changes a few settings on the optics band.

Gabriel looks up as the other man approaches and seats himself. "Hey, Galvin, how's it going? Haven't lost a finger yet in all that mechanic's stuff, huh?" The Kentuckian grins widely, then kicks out the chair opposite him, nodding to it with a chin. "Have a seat, so we won't have to shout across empty space." The drawl is probably a bit amusing over steaming coffee, but Gabriel looks quite happy to see the other man.

Galvin raises an eyebrow at the question. "Why would I lose a finger?" He asks with a confused look before adjusting his glasses with a finger. At Gabriel's offer he shrugs his shoulders and moves to the other table. He moves over his computer and optics band. Once sitting her opens up his can of soda and takes a sip from it.

"You came to a coffee shop to buy a soda?" Gabriel seems amused at the idea. "Well, I guess it's at least a quiet place to sit, right? And mechanics in my time had a tendency to lose or damage digits with heavy equipment and cutting tools." There's a little shrug. "Guess things have changed." He sighs a little, and asks, "Today's December 7th, according to that calendar up there -" he points to one over the counter "- Pearl Harbor Day. Don't suppose anyone recognizes it anymore, though, do the?"

"Why not? I prefer soda to coffee and tea." Galvin says with a slight frown. "They serve all sorts of drinks after all. Mechanics in your time must have been very bad at safety. Anyone who cuts off a finger is obviously an idiot who shouldn't be let near any heavy equipment. A laser welder could cut you hand off before you know it. That is why you use safety measures." He pauses to take a sip of his soda. "Nope don't know what that is. Plenty of days on the calendar."

Gabriel continues to blow across his coffee, pausing only to add, "No, I didn't suppose you would," probably referencing the date. "Gotta tell you, I know a number of guys named rather ironically, 'Lefty' in my time. Wasn't stupidity, it was basic equipment that you couldn't always trust to work the way that it was supposed to." Then, "Sorry, didn't men to insult your soda or anything. Just struck me as funny, that's all. What brings you around this time of day, Galvin?" He taps his table, which has an empty paper wrapper with little pieces of things like lettuce and bread. "Me? Just a bit of a late lunch." He takes sip at his coffee, which is followed by, "FUCK! Whose throat can handle coffee just barely below the boiling point?"

"Always have to check your equipment before you use it. Or you can lose a lot worse things then a finger." Galvin says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Oh I don't have any work to do, so I thought I would come and work on a few design blueprints that I have been working on." He chuckles to himself as he watches Gabriel drink the hot coffee. "Lunch is always good."

"Shit," Gabriel complains again. He then pushes it to the side and offers, "I'm not going to buy iced coffee -- what kind of idiot goes to a coffee shop for coffee and then puts ice in it? I'll just let it sit over here and mellow for a while." Pause. "What're you working on? By the way, I have a minor job to pay you for, if you aren't busy. Just serendipity that I ran into you here. I was going to check the Nut 'n Bolt later." Still, the older man seems, for the time, more interested in what Galvin's blueprints are referencing.

Galvin looks down at his computer and then back up at Gabriel. "Oh this is a design for a portable mini-missile launcher. I thought of the set up for what I'm doing for my ATV and thought I could design a light weight computer programmed mini missile launcher. Would work well as a defense point or perhaps a trap. Could program it to just fire at certain targets." He finishes up with a shrug and a sip of his soda. "Oh? What kind of job do you need me to do?"

The Kentuckian's bow raises. "Oh? Like the M72 they just put into service? Take out a tank from 200m? Fire it, drop the tube and run like hell hoping no one saw you?" Gabriel peers over at his still steaming coffee and instantly returns to the conversation. "You certainly are into the big jobs, aren't you. Radar that can track three-hundred targets, a battery of missiles strapped to an ATV. Just put a smooth-bore cannon on it, and you'll be ready to take on the Koreans again." That elicits a shark-like grin, but then a simple shrug. "Oh, I just need to refill an eclip. I can do it myself, but I don't have a generator available, and apparently you can't just plug the damn things into a wall outlet."

Galvin shakes his head as moves his hand dismissively. "No it would be like a cube. You would attach it to a tree or a vehicle. Have a built in radar system, and would fire either based on remote control or based on a computer program. It would recognize target types and fire on what you designated." He picks up his can of soda and takes another sip of his drink. "Well there are big battles out there. I have seen some serious hardware. This stuff ain't that great. Besides I think Wellington already sells something very similar. It just sounded like an interesting design problem. But if you aren't interested in warfare then we can talk about something else. Yah you asked me about the e-clip I think before. I don't have a reactor to recharge them. You will have to go to one of the places around town that does it. Like the Gunnery does it I believe."

"Sorry, I may have. I had some odd jobs going on, and the minor things occasionally get filed away in the back of my mind, never to be seen again." Gabriel glances at the coffee, once again judges it too hot, and says, "I definitely want to come back to your equipment. I hate warfare, but I try to keep up with the technology. A wise man once said that 'warfare is the last refuge of the incompetent.'" He then waggles a finger at Galvin. "But to wander off that topic for a moment, you heard good things about this Titan Robots place moving in? You said they're hiring their own, right?"

"Yah unless you are one of those freaks with magic, you have to stay on top of technology. Only way to keep alive sometimes." Galvin says with a little laugh in his voice. "Yah so far all the techs they are hiring are from out of Kingsdale. Or so I have heard, but I think their sales people are local, or at least some of them are. Too bad I can't test drive one of their robots. They just allow holographic simulated test drives."

Leonard enters the shop in search of a cup of hot java, and with ironic timing in the conversation. He shakes some of the cold from his cloak, along with anything else that might happen to be falling from the sky today.

Gabriel sits up straight and in his best Shakespearean (which is pretty poor when trying to overcome a thick drawl), "Something's wrong in the state of Denmark." Oh, look, he didn't even get the quote right. "Since you run in the circles more than I do, don't suppose you've heard anything about oh... payoffs, favoritism, that kind of thing? Is it strange that they've come in now?" He sits up straighter and lightly slaps the table. "Listen to me, I sound like fucking Perry Mason." Leonard's entrance is acknowledged with a polite bow of his head and a wave of a hand. Let the man order.

Galvin shrugs his shoulders as he uses a finger to adjust his glasses. "Oh there are always pay offs and favoritism. I mean trying to expand like this I bet they are making a lot of enemies of Northern Gun. I am sure there will be some sabotage and what not. I heard about some shipping problems that they were having, but not enough problems to stop them opening up their store." He leans back in his seat and sips on his soda. He spots Leonard and gives him a nod of his head in greeting. "What is your problem with Titan any how?"

One small fight for a simple cup of hot coffee later, Leonard has one in hand. They're as bad as any other salespeople when it comes to 'upgrades.' He has to let it cool, so a brief wave back to the men's nods is made. "Evening."

The older man purses his lips and shrugs. "I have no problem with Titan. As far as I know, they're a fantastic, stand-up company who's going to be doing a lot of business in this city, and maybe employing some of our citizens down the line. It's just that two good men have died, and the only common, unusual thread is that there is a somewhat tenuous relationship to Titan Robotics. Could be absolutely nothing," Gabriel allows. "They having difficulty bringing supplies into the city or something?" He then reaches behind him and spins around a chair so that the table has three. He gestures to it invitingly, and says, "Leonard, c'mon, take off a load." Gabriel's coffee remains, unfortunately, just below 100 degrees Celsius.

"Well any company that wants to keep the location of their factories secret has shipping problems. That and they don't want what happened to the Naruni to happen to them." Galvin says as he toys with his half empty can of soda. "Well two murders huh? That sounds bad. Maybe it is a start of the companies being more openly hostile. Who knows?" He says before taking another sip of his soda. "Yes come and join us Leonard."

"Thank you," Leonard nods to Gabriel, "and I will. Dead good men, and Titan? Why do I have the feeling that I've missed something, somewhere?" He shifts from pleasantries and into the conversation, just not very smoothly. A good time to take the seat that was flipped around for him.

There's a smirk and a shrug. "Oh, the usual. World's fucked up and good people are just trying to set things right, and to keep wrong things from happening to innocent people. You know, same way the world's always been." A question is directed to the mechanic (or technician, whatever the proper term is these days). "Naruni another arms company? What happened to them?" Then, before allowing others to speaking, Gabriel makes a few bitchy comments about coffee being hot enough to be used as a weapon.

I guess I have been missing out as well." Galvin says with a nod to Leonard. "Oh Naruni was an arms company, came from another dimension or whatever. Anyways they were doing some good business, and cutting into sales for others. So some of the other companies teamed up with the CS and wiped out all the Naruni offices and sales teams. Messy but it worked."

Leonard snorts, and it has nothing to do with cooing off his drink. "The Coalition wouldn't need an excuse if they were from another world. They were happy to 'help,' I'm sure. If not for the fact that they keep all their technology for themselves, they probably wouldn't allow any companies to sell weapons in their territories." He nods to Gabriel's comment, but adds a shrug. "Unfortunately, I don't think that there are as many good or innocent people, now."

"Wow. Cutthroat business at its finest. Literally." Then, "Sorry, Leo, didn't mean to ignore you. Just don't know why they bring coffee to the edge of a fucking phase-change when they hand it to you. And I'd like to think that there are good people. I know that there are innocent people." To Galvin, Gabriel asks, "So what, the Coalition banded together with a bunch of competitors just to smash a single competitor? Seems like it would have been easier for a government of their mentality to just outlaw those weapons, confiscate them, and probably use them or reverse engineer them to make their own. Same way the Soviets turns our B-29s into an exact copy, the Tu-4."

Galvin shrugs his shoulders at Leonard's comments. He finishes off the last of his soda and gets up to buy another can. He returns soon enough and opens up the can and takes a sip. "Yah they all banded together. Naruni was selling too many advanced weapons to anyone they could buy them including the Coalition's enemies. Didn't want anyone to be able to defend themselves effectively, like Tolkeen."

"They probably kept or confiscated some for themselves." Leonard takes a tentative sip of coffee, and winces. "Maybe we could use some of this against them..." After singing his tongue, he has to agree with Gabriel about caffeine weaponry, also. "There were probably CS weapons after, or a contract with one of the others. It wouldn't surprise me if there was magic research in Chi-Town, hidden away somewhere. Psychics are a threat, yet they use them. Non-humans should be exterminated, but they created the Dog Boys. Reading is dangerous, and the Coalition has scientists to develop their technology..."

Gabriel nods at all of the contradictions in Coalition philosophy. "Hitler used scientists to develop his most horrific weapons, and many of them were Jewish, one of the people he was exterminating. You know, incidentally, it's a common misconception that the Jews were singled out. Catholics, homosexuals, the physically and mentally afflicted - no one was safe." He peers at his coffee for a moment, then leaves it to continue to boil, returning to the conversation. "Most of the time when you have people with an opinion, from a government to an individual, you'll find contradictions. The Founding Fathers believed in freedom for all, but you had to be landed gentry to vote." The then pokes at his chest and is brutally honest: "I want peace and freedom for good people, but in order to do that, I've spent twenty years killing people. Nothing ever works the way it seems that it should."

"Yah the Coalition are a bunch of scumbag assholes, that is for sure. I wouldn't do anything to ever help them. Too bad I can't do much to take 'em down either." Galvin says with another shrug of his shoulders. "War is a way of life. I might as well be good at it. Of course I'm on a bit of a separate end from you Gabriel. Peace and freedom sure would be mighty nice."

Leonard blows on his cup to try and speed it to tolerable temperature. "I'm hardly a great threat to them, but I'm fortunate enough to be one to be shot on sight. How lucky for me." He can now take a more solid swallow and not spontaneously combust. "Peace is usually made over a pile of corpses, Gabriel, so you're on the right path. It isn't fair, or pretty, or much anything else, but it is how they are. They could always be worse."

"We make war that we may live in peace," Gabriel quotes. "Aristotle. Smart man, much smarter than an idiot backwoods hick like me," is emphasized by his drawl. He looks a little sad. "I joined up in '38 when I saw Hitler starting to make grabs. This was when I was married to Mary Catherine, and had three little girls. Decided the best way that I could keep them safe and happy was to go out and kill the other bastard before he killed me." There's a little shiver through the man, the kind that just comes and goes randomly, unassociated with anything else. His hand is wrapped around the cup of coffee, the words, "Damn, it's still hot," are muttered, but he sips anyway. As Galvin is absorbed in his blueprints for the moment, Gabriel's full attention is focused on Leonard. "I know that the Coalition isn't fond of mages. But how do they know? I mean, if I look at you sitting there, I have no way of knowing that you could bring down a lightning bolt on me."

"I'll be on the run from the Coalition for the rest of my life. Ain't right." Galvin says with a shake of his head. "But better to be optimistic them pessimistic." He sips on his soda again while he listens to Gabriel. "Yah but their dog boys and psi-stalkers can tell who is what. And they are hard to hide from. Trust me."

"The Stalkers and the Hounds," Leonard answers with an edge in his voice. "That's why the Coalition employs and creates them." He nods with Galvin. "They patrol the cities and outlying areas in packs to hunt for psychics, magi, and the supernatural. All they need is an excuse."

Gabriel asks, "They tough? Like, stronger, faster, Six Million Dollar Man abilities? Crush my mind and burn my skin with a thought or a chant? No offense," he says, looking between the two men. Then, "What *do* they look like? I'm dreading the fact that you're probably going to tell me that I'm going to have to look for sentient dogs."

Galvin shudders visibly at what Leonard says before he takes a moment to adjust his glasses. "The stalkers feed off of psychics, magi and the supernatural. I don't want have some vampire suck away my life force. The hounds can track really well. They are sentient. I have met a few that are okay in the end, but they aren't like the stalkers. Anyone you see without hair could be a stalker. Creepy bastards."

Leonard cringes at the reminder, himself. "The stalkers are pale and hairless, and the psi-hounds look nothing more than humanoid, bipedal dogs. I don't know that I'd consider any of them 'Okay,' but they are generally as intelligent as any human. That means that some could be smart enough to see the truth."

Gabriel opens his mouth in humorous/exasperated smile. "Fucking world. I didn't like Marmaduke, and he was a two-dimensional black-and-white two-inch by two-inch sketch." After slapping the table lightly, he then states, "Okay, good information. I will never shave my head just for the hell of it. People might not be so polite to me." He return to sip at his coffee for a moment, cutting off what tends to be his longer blurts of conversation, short.

"You would have to shave more, and look a lot paler." Galvin says with a chuckle as he shakes his head. "Most of them are odd, but their are plenty of them stalkers about." He takes a little sip from his soda as he toys with his hand held computer.

"They're more like ...Cujo," Leonard smirks, "though all the Coalition posters and video makes them look like Lassie. Stopped the evil magic man, saved a child who fell into a hole, rescued a cat out of a tree..." His head tips towards Galvin again. "There are both here in Kingsdale, and I doubt they're friendly to the Coalition. Not that that makes me feel much more comfortable."

The older man shakes his head slightly. “Cujo? Don't know that one. Lassie? Okay, yeah, got that one.” Gabriel looks between the two other men. "Are they something I need to look out for? Sure, apparently they wouldn't care about me. But like I said... I like to think that I look out for those who can't help themselves."

"Unless you have voodoo magic, or you have psionics then you shouldn't have to worry." Galvin says with a little chuckle. "You'll just have to watch out for the skelebots and everything else that the Coalition can throw at you." He gives Gabriel a quick grin and then sips on his can of soda. Leonard can finally nurse his coffee properly and freely. "You shouldn't need to worry about much of that here. If you do happen to see CS robots and troops walking down Main, /then/ you can worry. I'd say that will never happen, but they're already trying to move in to Laramy."

Gabriel shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I don't recall if you guys were there, I was pretty much concentrating on what they were saying. They were going to move into Laramy, didn't matter what happened. Then Miss Daeni attacked the Major's car, and frankly, I dove in to help her, even though I thought it was a very, very bad idea... she died, I nearly died, but they used it as an excuse to move in. Point is, they're in Laramy like a tick on hound." He shrugs and states, "Personally, just between us, I'd like to organize some Kingsdale, Laramy, and wilderness partisans. Probably won't drive the bastards out, but make them devote more resources than they want to. Thorn in the side concept." He winks. "I happen to have some experience in training partisans." The phrase doesn't come out as any kind of bragging, just a simple statement of truth.

"Yah and I bet that attack made all the people in Laramy glad that the Coalition is moving in. I heard about that. Sounds like it would just make the Coalition look like the good guys again." Galvin says with a frown and a slight shake of his head. "Yah you'll need some serious resources now that you helped them dig into Laramy."

"They are good at that, unfortunately." Leonard sighs and nods. "I'd like nothing better than to push them out, but they would try to turn it into an advantage or an excuse. That doesn't mean I won't help, but you'll need the support of Laramy, and keep everything away from the town. Otherwise they'll just send more and more until they win, then justify keeping forces there."

The man shrugs. "It was a lost fight, but I couldn't let her go it alone, Galvin. Turning and hiding would have just been like shooting her in the back with my own rifle." Gabriel seems to be being very frank about his experiences. "I'm not saying she was right. Miss Daeni was the trigger to bring them in, and I'll curse her to the day I die. Did *I* or *we* help dig them into Laramy? Fuck, no. Miss Daeni just made it happen faster, and I only tried to save her life. It was already done, Laramy just didn't know it." He doesn't seem to have entirely appreciate the part about 'you helped them dig into Laramy.' Turning to Leonard, his expression lightens somewhat, and he says slowly, "Yes, such a resistance would need to be well thought out." He sips at his coffee and allow his eyes to roam the establishment.

Galvin nods his head at Leonard. "I'll help out too. Those bastards stole my life. I'll take any advantage I can get to pay them back a little." He says with a slight grin. "Maybe can steal some stuff off them then reverse engineer it." He looks at Gabriel and shrugs. "Sometimes people commit suicide. Nothing you could do to stop it. I've seen it in some Mercs. Just seen too much combat, or those crazys or juicers. Suicide gambling." Galvin says unapologetically to Gabriel.

Leonard smirks to Galvin with no humor. "They are good at that, too. I don't know how best to thwart them," he glances between both men, "but I'm sure that we can come up with good ideas. The CS has numerous enemies here, so more help should be easy to find if we need it."

"They stole your life?" Gabriel asks very briefly at Galvin. Then to both, "You don't need an army to defeat an army. You don't even need a country. All you need is an ideal. Theoretically speaking, if there were enough Missourians - if I can use that term - who were pissed off?" He shrugs. "It works. I'm too new to really say, but Tolkeen and Quebec, or Old Bones, whatever the fuck it's called, taking the Coalition head-on may not have been the grandest idea." He then returns to, "They stole your life?"

"Yah they stole my life." Galvin says with a frown as he looks around the public coffee shop. "I think for now I'll leave it at that." He says while gesturing to the surrounding coffee shop. "Well the Pecos Empire is doing pretty well against the Lone Star skullheads. That is more the fighting you are referring to. And so far Quebec and Tolkeen are at a stale mate with the skullheads as far as I've heard."

"Fine to keep it to yourself. Every man has his secrets," Gabriel offers as he sips his coffee. "Probably isn't the place to be discussing guerrilla tactics, either." Something catches his eye, and he glances over to the counter. No, nope, nothing there.

"Yah perhaps if you want to hear the story or talk tactics you can come by my place some time, or we can just talk somewhere more private." Galvin mentions while he puts away his handheld computer. "I think I'll be taking my leave." He takes out a card and tosses it on the table in front of Gabriel. "Thanks for the good conversation. Call me if you need anything."

Gabriel slips the card into one of his loose pockets without glancing at it. "Take care, Galvin, watch yourself. This world isn't a safe place. See you around." He then sketches a sloppy military-to-a-civilian salute.

Leonard turns quiet and inward when Gabriel repeats the question about stolen lives. He does manage a nod farewell to Galvin, but that is his only interaction for several moments. A sigh and headshake clears his thoughts and he even chuckles and looks over the counter, too. "Even guerrillas drink coffee, don't they?"

There's a chuckle, and Gabriel suggests, "Yes, they do, but they usually bring it to their own meetings, instead of having planning sessions catered." He offers a wink of amusement and offers a double subject. "Tell me, Leo, is the Coalition really as set in Laramy as I think they are, or am I being paranoid? I'm pretty sure I'm not, but like I keep saying... I'm still new here." Yes, it looked like he was going to ask something else, but apparently he chooses to remain on a single topic.

"I don't know." Leonard shrugs in honest answer. "Whykin has been friendly with the CS for some time, as far as I know. Laramy could be a natural stepping stone to try for Kingsdale. They could be trying to maneuver for military or political sway... or just trying to pick a fight."

Gabriel shrugs, nodding an agreement with something that has been said. "I figured as much. I agree. Hitler took little pieces of Europe. Czechoslovakia, the Saarland, Austria, basically... gave him a powerful position to which he then took Poland, with Stalin's assistance." He grunts toward Leonard and says, "We all know what happened next. Motherfucker. Prosek and his Coalition States are no different than the Third Reich. Save for one way - they're better organized, and Prosek as far as I know isn't being driven completely mad with a syphilitic infection."

Leonard can't help but smirk at that. "That's a shame. I'd enjoy knowing that he succumbed to some disease. If my history is correct, the dear Emperor is also more consolidated and shrewd than Hitler ever was. His son is head of propaganda and probably uses it to control his own military as much as the average citizen. We'd be better off if the CS were more like the Nazis."

"Oh yes, what's his name. Peter Piper? Pip? Dickless? I don't recall. Anyway yeah, his son is dangerous, from what I can tell. Not only is he Goebbels, but he's also Hees, Speer, Raeder, Dönitz, Göring, etc. etc. all rolled into one. Prosek - the Emperor - seems to have the brains to listen to intelligent officers, too. Very dangerous." Gabriel then waves a single finger in the air, momentarily quiet as he sips at coffee. Then quietly and with a half-wink, "Partisans rarely lose."

"It's..." Leonard stops to think and frowns. "I don't recall, which is unsettling. Then again, I've spent my time in Kingsdale attempting to forget about Chi-Town. It seems to be working, somewhat. At times, I think I'd be perfectly happy if a rift happened to open and swallow the city whole."

Gabriel seems to rock back and forth between necessary knowledge and intrusive annoyance. In the end, he seems to attempt a middle-ground. After a long pull on his coffee, he asks carefully, "Tell me to fuck-off and keep my business my business, but well... how are you, or were you, involved with these bastards?"

Leonard drinks most of the rest of his coffee before he answers. "Not long ago, I was young, ignorant, and living in the Burbs around Chi-Town. Like many other ignorant humans there, I wanted to be a citizen, enter the big city, live the great life... I had no clue."

"No clue that they didn't care for people of your unique ilk?" Gabriel asks quietly.

"No," Leonard shakes his head, "No clue that most of it was a lie. The Burbs wasn't much better than the Dregs here, and the size of Kingsdale. Terrible things were a way of life. I was sure the city was better, believed most of what they spewed out. I was fortunate enough to have someone open my eyes, educate me on more than just what blared out of loudspeakers, what lay beyond the horizon." A reminiscent smile forms. "Magic was a part of that. I'm not any different than you, Gabriel, not genealogically, more or less. Humans have used magic for millennia here, but it waned and became very, very weak for eons."

There's a shrug, and Gabriel asks, "You're Polish too?" He grins at his joke about genealogy. "Well, I don't know anything about magic, and unless there's some way for a regular guy like me to defend against it or kill it - in general terms, of course - then I guess there's not much that I need to know, is there?" He sips at his coffee and then says, "You know, my mother told me fairy tales about magic. It was good fun. Obviously every myth has a certain basis in fact. I'm sorry for your experiences." The Kentuckian allows the other man an opportunity to drop a subject that he may find distasteful. Leonard's smile becomes a grin. "I could be... I honestly don't know. Most records don't go back to Cataclysm, and artifacts from before then are very rare. Humans here were effectively set back centuries with the devastation, as best I can tell. I don't doubt that many of the tales of magic from before were based in reality, but I haven't had the chance to hear any of the ancient stories." He shrugs slightly.

Chuckle chuckle chuckle. "Yeah, I noticed that. My 'start-up money' here in Kingsdale came from the shocking fact that people wanted to buy just about everything I had, including the shirt off my back. Without boring you with explanations, I had a load of assault rifles from my time that people were eager to grab. People even bought fucking K-rations!" The last really seems to get a laugh out of Gabriel. "You know, the origin of the term 'green-eggs and ham' actually comes from people like me and my comrades looking at our rations and seeing exactly that? Tasted like it too. Only worse. Like if you rubbed a pile of dog shit in tar, then over-salted it. Texture like snot." A wide, wide grin breaks Gabriel's face. "I'm not spoiling your appetite for coffee, am I?"

Leonard joins the chuckle, nodding along the way. He does frown a little queasily about the food, but shakes his head. "No. As much as I hate to admit it, I've eaten worse. I'm not surprised about others buying up your possessions, either. Most people could care less about the past, but some students of history, like myself, can become rather zealous. I'd rather just pick your brain." The last of his coffee goes, and he thinks to add, "Just through conversation."

Gabriel narrows a humorous eye at the other man. "Yeah, no taking out my brain and playing with it, please, Dr. Zhivago. Otherwise, I'm quite the open book, and let me tell you - half of the shit they have in the Library about what it was like before the Apocalypse? The stuff from my era is usually so wrong that it seems like intentional fiction to me! If I had the knack for it, I might try my hand at writing books about what it was *really* like - but I bet the 'scholars' -" he emphasizes the word in a curious way to indicate derision "- would tell everyone else that *I* was the idiot." Sip sip sip at the coffee. "What is it that you're wondering about, Leo?

"I'm not a surgeon," Leonard grins again, "so no brain extractions. As for the history, it's mostly best guess or tales handed down over time, unless a book or other account is found. There's also the possibility that our past isn't yours. This isn't the only Earth that exists." There is a long pause as he considers an answer to the question. "Well, I wonder about many, many things. I /am/ curious about what life was really like in your time and place. You've mentioned bits here and there, but I'm afraid that I miss most of the references."

An eyebrow is quirked. "Not the only Earth? You'll have to explain that one to me." Gabriel looks into his half-empty ceramic mug before his eyes return to the other man. "Well, not to split hairs or anything, but since you probably don't want to stay here for hours, I'll point out that *my* life was, and continues to be exceptionally unusual relative to just about everyone else. I'd be happy to tell you about it. Do you want that, or do you want the generalized circumstances of life when I was... living?" Gabriel punctuates the question with a smirk.

Leonard smirks back. "It sounds like I should get another cup. The short explanation is that ours is not the only realm. There are numerous others. Alternate realities, other dimensions, whatever is easiest for you to call them. With the rise of magic here, they are easier to reach. In places of extremely concentrated power, such as points where the ley lines converge, portals to other places on this world, or other worlds entirely, can appear at random. That's why there are so many unusual "guests" here.

"Huh." There's a bit of an extended silence after that. "Guess I should read up on that, Leonard. I have very little understanding of what you're saying. Like one of the science fiction flicks we used to see. I have noticed the unusual number of 'guests' -" Gabriel uses air-quotes "- around here. It's still a bit unsettling for me, but I'm getting better. Been here since mid-September, after all. So really, what do you want me to regale you about? The life of the average American? Or the life of a super-amazing American like me?" The grin on his face indicates that he knows that he's unusual, but nothing actually special.

"Both?" Leonard smiles at the joke(?) and in curiosity. "Scholars consider your era to be the golden age of mankind, so life must have been very idyllic, at least when compared to our standards. It's hard for me to imagine a place where one can travel without worrying that something might eat or shoot you just because they felt the urge."

Those comments elicit a smile from Gabriel. "Golden Age? I certainly wouldn't call it that. But it was a good time to be alive. How about my life first, then the general state, of the world, fair enough?" He allows the other man to stew over that question for a minute as he goes and retrieves a new cup of unfortunately overheated coffee. "There we go. So, choose your poison yet?"

Leonard nods and takes the opportunity of Gabriel's refill to get one for himself. He lingers a bit longer at the counter and returns with his cup plus two ice cubes. One is dropped into the molten java and he offers up the other. "Something to dilute your poison just a little? Anything you share will be new to me, so feel free."

"Hmm, well, okay, a brief beginning. My parents were born in Poland just days apart in January, 1900. Days apart, but worlds apart, both economically and culturally. I won't bore you with how they met, but they did. Mom had a fantastic education and all the perks of life, Dad lived in a town so small it had no name, he couldn't read or write, and only enough math to do the crops, livestock, and trade. World War One broke out in 1914, and Dad kept getting conscripted and impressed by the Germans and Russians as the Eastern Front flipped back and forth. He snuck away and they got married in 1916 - yes, they were 16 years old. That was normal everywhere across the world. In 1917, Mom's belly started to plump, and in order to give their child a fighting chance, Dad deserted - a death penalty offense - and long story short, they escaped to New York. I was born on Ellis Island, November 11, 1918, and just about the same moment the guns fell silent. Being born on American soil made me an instant American. Just to close out this part, my father's last name was Blazejewski -" Gabriel spells it out "- but it's pronounced 'bwah-ZHE-ski.' The immigration officers shortened it to an Americanized 'Blaze' for us." Gabriel tilts his head and says, "Okay, after that introduction, I promise that I can summarize in a more brief manner, if I haven't bored you yet, Leonard."

"Not at all." Leonard shakes his head with a chuckle. "It sounds much like a fanciful tale or a movie, but I can relate to some of it very well. Maybe some things change very little across time and space." He swirls his cup to help spread the cool before taking a sip. "Please, go on if you'd like."

Gabriel responds with, "I'd like to think that things don't change. But anyway, apparently Poland is a shithole now. Doesn't matter. Mom and Dad went looking for work, because Dad had no skills beyond farming and heavy labor, plus, only speaking Polish was a mark against them. But they found Hazard, state of Kentucky, United States of America, where living was inexpensive, community was nice, and the coal company only needed men who could swing a pick. I had a happy childhood, learned both Polish and English - old woman next door taught me. In *my* time, everyone in a town helped everyone else in a town. Good times." He pauses for a sip of overly-hot coffee. "Went to Catholic school, wasn't a great student, but did well enough. Nice girl, Mary Catherine. Good friends. Life was good, but in 1929, the Great Depression hit, and life crashed. I had to leave school and find jobs. I scavenged for metal to sell. My best job was at the local dump. Man gave me a .22 Henry repeater and told me to shoot the rats." The older man taps his chest. "Probably why I ended up being a good shot, learning from 12 years old. *Everybody* around the whole fucking world suffered - Hitler grabbed onto it and rose to power. When things improved, Mary Catherine and I got married, 1936. 18 years old. But that motherfucker Hitler continued to screw up the world." The older man laughs. "Sorry, I'm rambling, huh? I promise, it gets more exciting soon."

Leonard now laughs, briefly. "I did ask you to share what you wanted. If you ramble, it's entirely my fault and not yours." His cup is lifted in a sort of salute and a motion to continue. "Something usually tends to come along and screw things up when life is going well."

The man holds up a hand while he sips again. "Okay, I know I often talk too long. So, I kept doing odd jobs, but then we had a set of triplets in '39. Hitler was grabbing land, and I knew shit was going to fly. Figured the best way to support and defend the family was to join the military. Marines were closest, and since no one wanted to be a Marine, they paid better. Went off to Camp Lejeune, did very well in Basic, and got sent on to the Marine Raiders, which was a new group that today would be called special forces. Training was something that you wouldn't believe, just to please accept that it was brutal, both to me, my friends - and to various people around the world who got in our way." Gabriel seems rather cold about that, despite the warmth of family he'd had before. "After Hitler took Europe, and the Jap fuckers hit Pearl, we were in. The Raiders were the first offense of the war. Well, Doolittle was first, but he was from the air. Colonel Carlson took us, we hit Makin Island right before the main force hit Guadalcanal. Mary Catherine and my girls died of the flu while I was deployed." He opens a pocket and retrieves a 6-inch length of pink ribbon. "She used to tie her hair back with this." After a short time, Gabriel continues. "We operated in every theater, and we were never caught, and we never failed. Seven-man units. But Truman disbanded the Raiders in '46. My friends went to training battalions or regular units, but I was bumped first to the OSS, then the CIA." If those letters mean anything to anyone... well, that's unknown.

There is much nodding as Leonard listens politely and follows along. A smirk with the odd wry comment, a smile at family, and tight lips at mention of the fate of the family. "I'm sorry for your loss. I lost what little family I had not too long ago, and friends more recently. Just because death seems to happen here often doesn't make it any easier to deal with."

The man nods. "Thank you for that. I believe that they are in a better place." However, Gabriel then returns to his storytelling. "The CIA deployed me to a number of locations. Theft, spying, recruiting, sabotage, kidnapping... and yeah, assassination. I still believe that I was doing the necessary things to keep good people safe." He sighs. "I was deployed to Kiev, in the Soviet Union, leading a group of partisans as a supposed Spetsnaz unit - uh, Russian special ops. We fucked with the airfield real good. My contact was a colonel, who turned out to be a beautiful, shockingly intelligent woman of Romanian descent, posing as Russian KGB. Short story, a British SOE turncoat turned in our unit. Natasha - that was her name - and I were on leave in Constanta at the time, and we'd just married. Year was '46. We escaped, the SOE traitor plugged me twice with a shotgun slug at point-blank," the older man lifts his jacket and shirt to expose two nasty scars on the side of his abdomen, then lowers it and fluffs them back into place. "On the way back to the US, I turned the SOE asshole's cash into enough money that made me the fourth wealthiest man in the world. But we were quiet about it, so you'll never see us in the books. Ah, we found the girls and adopted them, life was good. We did a lot of training of what I had created, the Black Flag CIA special ops unit. Natasha and I, plus a Black Flag unit were deployed with the Montana testbed as security." He stops to sip and take a breath. "Only one more piece of my puzzle left, if I haven't bored you yet. Feel free to slap me and make me shut up." Gabriel grins widely. "I expect the same detail of your life's story!"

"That's..." Leonard stops to take several gulps of coffee. "That's a hard story to follow, and you're not even finished, yet. I haven't done a quarter what you have, and most of what I've done probably would bore you to tears." His mood is lighter now, though, as the tale seems to cheer up significantly from the section before.

"Hehe," comes a goofy laugh. "I'm not sure what the difficult to follow part is, but I'm happy to go over it again, if you need it." Gabriel winks at Leonard. "Anyway, we were aboard the Montana, a testbed for new military technology. It was a battleship, flagship of the Montana class, but Congress had canceled them before completion - certain military elements had it completed. On this mission, there was a five-star Fleet Admiral overseeing everything, but I was actually over him as head of shipboard security. Natasha was my second. Roughly twenty-five hundred people under my purview. You can probably explain this part better than I can - they fired up some kind of reactor, there was a noise that made everyone puke, a bright flash, and I woke up in a meadow next to Natasha, who was still unconscious. The Montana was a half-mile away, stuck in the fucking ground, twenty degrees at the bow, completely under, screws in the air, listing at about ten degrees to starboard. I got Natasha awake, and we ran to find survivors. Only three-hundred of my charges had survived. Techs, scientists, and Black Flag soldiers. Considering that we might have been in enemy territory, I ran everyone to the trees. The Montana detonated. Big fucking explosion." He sighs sadly. "Over the next three weeks, my remaining men were whittled down. I gathered modern armor and some weapons through luck, surprise, and brutality. It was only Natasha and I left, we were almost to freedom, but a lizard-looking bastard who I will curse forever put a slug in her back. She died in my arms about ten feet from safety." He sniffs a little, and says, "I buried her in my clearing. I'm always with her, and I always be." Gabriel inhales deeply, leans back, raises his palms to the sky, and says with emphasis: "So *now*... here I am in a coffee shop talking to someone who knows how to use magic."

So much for the happy ending. Leonard frowns yet again. "I'm sorry. Again..." And he jumps right over to, "It's entirely possible that whatever was used on the ship opened a rift, teleported everyone, or somehow combined with some sort of natural event to do the same. I couldn't begin to tell you why, though. I'm probably less savvy with gadgets than the average farmer." A little shrug and a large sigh. "I guess you can be thankful that she is close, and you had something to bury... I'd just come home after completing my apprenticeship. My own boot camp, you could say." He delves into his own rambling reminiscence. "We had traveled some distance away for the later practice, to stay undetected, and avoided the patrols when we returned. I hadn't seen her in months, was elated to be back, and full of pride at what I'd accomplished. So full that I gave her a little demonstration, simple tricks that still amazed her. A pack was tearing at the shack within minutes, and I ran. She ... Well, I guess she did what any mother would do."

Gabriel nods slowly in commiseration. "Mothers of all mammalian species are the fiercest fighters of any creature in history when it comes to protecting their offspring. There's nothing they won't do. In my experience, most women are like that, when they're defending someone they love." He looks away for a long while before saying, "But you got away. I don't know if you want to tell me what happened to her, but you got away, and that's all that she wanted, all that she lived for. I'm very sorry for your loss. My mother died of old age, though old age in my time wasn't as old as people these days." He sips at his coffee. "So you were training. To do what?"

"I could have stayed and fought..." Leonard voices that alternative with a shrug and moves on. "Magic. That was the most trying and exhausting training that I endured, though becoming literate was a close second. After American, the other languages seemed easy. It wasn't running, shooting, or whatever else special forces would do, but it was draining."

A smile crosses the older man's face. "I've noticed that people no longer speak English. I guess it's 'American' now. I'm not even talking the difference between what those pussy Brits called English and what we called English - it's different. Very odd." Gabriel pokes his chin in Leonard's direction. "So how do magicians train?" Suddenly, his wristwatch begins to vibrate very quietly, and he looks down. "Oh, wow. Didn't realize how long we've been talking, Leo. Guess I've really been rambling even more than I thought!" Gabriel seems quite amused at the problem and begins downing the coffee in gulps not sips.

Leonard opens his mouth to contribute further rambling, but it comes out as a chuckle. "That's quite alright. I'm actually very accustomed to time, buzzers or beeps stealing my company. At least I didn't bore you, first." He lifts his cup in a java salute. "It will just give me time to embellish my tale for your benefit?"

"Fair enough," says Gabriel with a smile as he rises to his feet, leaving an empty mug behind for the serving girl to clean up. "Time to go back to grunt work heavy lifting in the Merchant's Plaza. Think up some good stories for me, Leo. I'll catch you later. Good talking with you." With that, he'll sketch a salute, the kind that a military man would give to a civilian, and head toward the door.