Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (71% full).

Dark Wine and Roses - Cafe(#2116RJM)
This room is bright and airy. The walls are still a cheerful white, and the
      floors, moldings, and beams are identical to the ones in the bookshop. An 
      oak-and-marble counter is set close to one wall, and a bar can be seen 
      behind it. A swinging door next to the bar leads into the kitchen, which 
      can be glimpsed when the door is opened. In addition to the lights 
      hanging from the ceiling, several fans are also visible. Large windows 
      open onto the patio outside. Tables and booths of various sizes are 
      scattered around the room. 
A glass door on the west wall leads out onto the patio, while the archway to
      the east leads into the bookshop proper. The door to the kitchen is 
      behind the counter to the north.
Obvious exits:
PaTio  Bookshop  

        A short afro of tight golden curls covers the scalp of a girl just shy
      of eighteen years old. Her skin is very fair, just this side of ghostly, 
      and pinkish in places. Her eyes, fringed with blonde lashes and set 
      beneath pale eyebrows, are light hazel and often magnified behind oval 
      wire-framed glasses. Her nose is round and rather large, with prominent 
      nostrils and not much bridge, and the mouth beneath it is full, wide, and 
      expressive; behind it are even white teeth that have, clearly, seen the 
      best in dental and orthodontic care.
        About five and a half feet tall, the girl is skinny and does not appear
      athletic. Her wrists are thin, and her fingers are long and delicate, 
      with short nails painted black. Past the edges of her close-fitting 
      babydoll t-shirt (black with a picture of Smurfette only slightly 
      distorted as it's stretched across her modest bosom), a light blue, 
      long-sleeved leotard is visible. Her wide-legged black pants sport 
      multiple zippers placed apparantly at random, and the floor-dragging 
      cuffs cover most of her bright orange Chuck Taylor hightops. A pewter 
      dragon grasping a crystal hangs from a black cord around her neck.

It is currently 19:00 Pacific Time on Tue Jul 27 2004.

The sun's starting to get low in the sky, rays from the west slanting into the
      cafe's windows. The Dark Wine and Roses is doing moderately well tonight, 
      and among its clientele are a pair of high school girls who have 
      obviously been busy spending their parents' money; shopping bags, 
      including a couple from Hot Topic, sit like obedient dogs under their 
      table. The one girl, Mary, has a tired look in her eyes, but is listening 
      with amusement to her friend Samantha, a somewhat chubby girl with dyed 
      black hair. Both are wearing lots of black, but Sam's the 
      gother-than-thou of the two by far.
Into the cafe comes another Gothic, this one probably wearing way too much
      metal on his pants. Each step he takes makes a solid thud from his heavy 
      boot, followed by the jingle and jangle of chains that dance and drip 
      their way at his knees. He is carrying a backpack over his shoulder, eyes 
      narrowed a bit in thought as he listens to his iPod, blasting the 
      industrial band known as Skinny Puppy into his skull. He sweeps his gaze 
      around until he spots a lonesome table and seats himself with a thud, 
      plopping the bag uptop. He catches sight of the pair at the table easily 
      enough by Mary's appearance and stares for a few seconds before finally 
      going back to his business.

Here stands a young man nearing the age of twenty-one, thin, pale, and not much
      to look at. When once he was a shy, mild mannered and ignored computer 
      nerd who couldn't weigh much more then a hundred when wet, now stands the 
      exact same person, yet, gothlike. The glasses on his face reveal the pair 
      of blue eyes he bares. His black hair still sprawls out over his face, 
      but no longer dipped in blonde about his bangs, just a solid darkness.
His clothing has changed dramatically as well, having abandoned the button down
      shirts and slacks, replacing it with baggy dark jeans, a solid black 
      shirt that simply reads: "Chicks dig scrawny pale guys" A long, ankle 
      length trenchcoat billows about his thin frame, nearly cloaking him like 
      a cape. Upon his feet is a pair of heavy steel toed boots, those which 
      travel halfway up his calf. Chains adorn his jeans, three hanging off his 
      wallet, and two more simply embedded into the fabric, jingling and 
      clanking as he walks. To finish off his ungodly apparel, there is a 
      leather collar bound around his neck, with a small metal skull dangling 
      from the end of a steel hoop.

Sam spots Jeremy before Mary does and pauses in her narrative to give him a
      once-over; this prompts Mary to glance over as well, though she only does 
      so briefly before turning back to her friend with a slight frown and a 
      quizzical look. Sam smirks and leans over the table (as does Mary) to 
      talk in low, whispery tones. After a moment, they both start giggling 
      like, well, a couple of teenage girls.
Out of the bag comes a shiny silver Apple laptop, and Jeremy flicks it open. He
      runs his finger slowly along the mouse pad and toggles the screen to come 
      awake, then begins to type on an open document that he has before him. 
      His tongue ring clicks against his teeth in thought as his eyes focus, 
      unable to catch the giggling from the music.
The giggling subsides and the girls go back to their conversation. "So, anyway,
      what gives, Mare?" Sam props her chin on her fist and looks over at her 
      friend with concern. "I mean, apart from your mom being all 
      what-the-fuck, you've been, like, completely *out* of it this summer."
Mary shrugs and plays with the straw of her chocolate milkshake. "Just stressed
      over school, I guess? Gonna be seniors and all, and then college..."
Tap Tap Tap goes the speedy fingers of Jeremy on the keyboard as the Goth-kin
      concentrates on the work in front of him. He lets out a soft breath here 
      or there, glancing slightly over to the pair of girls once in awhile, 
      squinting. After a few moments, he slips out his cell phone, holding it 
      up quickly. Snap, a flashless picture is taken.

You paged Jeremy with 'Okay, how obvious were you about that? :)'.
Jeremy pages: Depends if they are staring. Its more like. tap tap tap, pull
      out, click, put down, tap, tap tap. :)
Jeremy pages: No flash on the phone camera though. ;) Could appear he was
      checking the time or something.

The door to the cafe opens, and Alexander strides inside. He's just here to get
      some food and relax a little, so he's suprised to see someone he knows. 
      He does however head in Jeremy's direction to greet the other man.
Mary's gaze is directed downwards, and Samantha's focussed on her friend; she
      doesn't notice Jeremy taking their picture. The chubby girl chews on her 
      pierced lower lip. "You sure that's all?"
Mary's response is a grimace and a sharp, "I *told* you so, didn't I?" Then, at
      Sam's shocked blink, she looks down, shaking her head a little and 
      mumbling, "Sorry."
Tappity Tappity Tappity. Jeremy continues to flirt his fingers along the
      keyboard as he goes, catching sight of Alexander heading over to him. One 
      bud, then the other pops out of his ears as he lowers the iPod down, 
      raising a brow up at him. "Hey Alexander." He says, closing the laptop 
      lid almost too quickly.

Alexander stands at 6' tall, his build lean and thin. The man's bearing is
      aristocratic and regal, although it's tinged with a barely perceptable 
      uncertainty and nervousness. His features are sharp, with a Russian cast 
      to them. An aquiline nose sits imposingly in the centre of the man's 
      face, high cheekbones accenting it. His ice-blue eyes are like elongated 
      raindrops, more rounded next to his nose than at the other end, standing 
      out against the thick black eyebrows which curve above them. His face is 
      very angular, almost pointed at the bottom. A strong forehead completes 
      the picture. Alexander's hair is a silvery-blond, the silver most obvious 
      when the light catches it. It flows down from a point in the middle of 
      his head to frame his face and sit atop his shoulders, almost like a 
      strange crown.
Alexander wears a rumpled white shirt, the top few buttons undone. His trousers
      are just as rumpled, plain black like his shoes, which are worn and 
      scuffed. The whole outfit was clearly expensive once, but has seen much 
      wear and not so much care. On the ring finger of his right hand Alexander 
      wears a large gold ring, which bears an elaborate crest. It bears a 
      resemblence to those that used to be used to seal letters and validate 
      documents.

"Hey Jeremy." Alexander smiles, quirking an eyebrow as the laptop lid seems to
      fly down. "On Her Majesty's Secret Service, eh?" He jokes, before asking 
      "How does today find you?"
Sam glances over at the rumpled aristocrat talking to the gothguy with the
      laptop, then turns back to her friend. "It's okay," she says, lowering 
      her voice slightly. "It's just, I dunno, you've been weird lately."
Mary nods, says, "I know, I know," in a resigned way, then takes a sip from her
      milkshake. Then she meets Samantha's eyes. "I'm all right, though, okay? 
      Just stressed."
Samantha looks doubtful, but nods slowly.
"Something like that." Jeremy murmurs in the way of 'secret service', then
      slowly shrugs his shoulders. "Today finds me like it did yesterday. Hot, 
      bored, whatever." He uses his steel toed boot to nudge a chair out for 
      the rich and handsome kin, who obviously wouldn't be in his 'typical' 
      crowd if one would stare at stereotypes. "How are you?"
Sliding into the chair with a grateful smile, Alexander looks across to Jeremy.
      "Much the same. The weather is stagnant, I have little to do...." He 
      shrugs. "As I say, much the same."
There's an uncomfortable silence between the two high school girls at the
      little table. Then Mary sits up a little and, in a clear attempt to 
      change the subject between them, says, "So, you think that _Catwoman_ is 
      as bad as they say?"
"Yah." Comes the short reply of Jeremy to the Fang kin as he fidgets about in
      his seat, then slips his laptop into his bag with a soft breath, zipping 
      it up. "That sucks." Quite the conversationlist here. Shifting his gaze 
      down to his wrist, he peers at his watch and furrows his brows slightly.
"I'm not intruding, or keeping you from something, am I?" Alexander asks with a
      cultured politeness that only comes from years of growing up in the 
      aristocracy. He nods to the watch that Jeremy is peering at so intently.
Samantha rolls her eyes. "Oh, *god*," she says to Mary. "I bet it's *worse*.
      Poor Halle Berry."
Jeremy tilts his head a bit at the conversation regarding Catwoman for a
      moment, then glances back to Alexander. His eyes look bloodshot, as if he 
      hasn't been sleeping much, if at all. "Nah. Just was going to get myself 
      a coffee." He pushes himself up out of his chair and turns, heading 
      through the rows of table.
Nicodemus strolls in casually from the bookstore with a slightly oversized and
      moderately thick paperback book, receipt stuck inside to serve as a 
      bookmark, titled "The Meaning of Meaning." He heads over to the counter 
      and eyeballs the menu items while rocking back on his heels, hands 
      clasped behind his back and joined at the book's margins.

You see a thin and wiry young man in his early twenties--and a bit on the short
      side at about 5'4" to 5'6" in height. His black hair is cropped short in 
      a crewcut. Somehow, between his appearance and attire and mannerisms, 
      he's managed to pull off some kind of 1950's retro-goth look. Very unique.
He's currently wearing a neatly pressed pair of black khakis and an equally
      neatly pressed white button down shirt. An ultra-thin black and silver 
      pinstriped tie nicely accentuates the ensemble. A pair of black 
      suspenders adds a retro 1950's touch and the vertical lines help give the 
      appearance that he's a couple inches taller than he is.
Around his neck are two thin silver necklace chains, each with a different
      pendant. The first is a sterling silver skull with a transparent red 
      crystal inside. The second is a simple silver crucifix. A faint hint of 
      fine incense lingers quietly about his immediate vicinity, almost like a 
      unique, well-selected cologne.

"Perhaps I'll join you." Alexander also stands, making his way over to the
      counter. He's not forgotten his original wish for refereshment, it's just 
      been temporarily sidetracked.
Mary smiles faintly, "Yeah, that *outfit* is--what?" She breaks off, squinting
      at Samantha, who's peering past her at Nicodemus. A slight grin hits the 
      chubby girl, and she leans over the table. The girls' voices drop to 
      whispers.
A slight sigh escapes Jeremy's lips as Alexander offers to join him. He
      recovers marvelously and puts on a quick smile. "Alright." He glances 
      over at the girls for a moment, then lets his gaze sweep around, falling 
      on Nicodemus. He pauses for a moment, staring, then slowly angles himself 
      towards the counters.
"Large mocha, please. Double shot. Skinny." Nicodemus hands over a credit card
      to the cashier. "Thanks." He glances around the room briefly after the 
      transaction.
Alexander follows Jeremy. "Something wrong?" He asks politely, his gaze
      following the other Kin's as it takes in the various other patrons. The 
      effect is possibly like an overlarge puppy.
Quiet, giggly laughter rises from the teenagers' table, though the perceptive
      might note that it's a bit strained, and silence lapses there more 
      quickly than before.
"No, nothing is wrong." Jeremy says, half lidding his eyes as he stares at Nick
      for a few moments, chin tilting upwards for a moment, then continues to 
      the counter, straightening his features a bit, shifting the bag over his 
      shoulder. Quickly he orders, almost too fast for the girl to catch it 
      all. Nervous? Maybe.
Nicodemus isn't too far away from metal-clanky-goth, and he's not entirely
      subtle in his appearance either. So Nick eyeballs him a brief bit, 
      possibly having caught Jeremy eyeballing him earlier--and then the 
      oddball rich-guy companion. He snaps his fingers once, not overly loud, 
      and addresses Jeremy. "I know you from someplace. Midnight Temple? 
      Demilich? The Underground?"
Once Jeremy is done ordering, Alexander places his own order. He's much slower,
      and if he notices Jeremy's air of nervousness dosn't comment. Paying for 
      it with plastic, he's a little suprised when he hears Nicodemus 
      addressing Jeremy.
Gradually, conversation at Mary and Sam's table starts up again with Sam
      bringing up the subject of school in September, what classes they're both 
      going to take, what teachers, et cetera. This soon evolves into a typical 
      sort of high school gossip.
Shrugging his shoulders, Jeremy says. "We used to have a mutual friend.. a long
      time ago. Thats all.. Nick." He says with a furrow of his brow, picking 
      up his triple shot white mocha and blowing the steam from the top. "I 
      only met you in passing."
Nicodemus ahs, looking as if that might be the end of the conversation and that
      he'll be walking off now. But he apparently changes his mind before he 
      takes that first step as a thought crosses his mind. "Used to.... Salem." 
      Must have had one of those lightbulb moments. "Haven't seen him around in 
      ages. He move?" He takes a delicate sip from his dangerously hot mocha, 
      lest he get burned.
Alexander looks between Jeremy and Nicodemus. He seems about to open his mouth
      to ask something, but changes his mind when the other man continues 
      speaking. His coffee and slice of cake are forgotten in his hands, 
      something about the conversation holding his attention.
"Jack died, awhile ago. Car accident." Jeremy says simply as he glances away,
      tongue ring clicking against his teeth lightly. He shifts about a tad 
      uncomfortably, then takes a sip of his white mocha carefully. He glances 
      to Alexander for a moment, then starts walking away from the pair of 
      them, leaving the two to stare at each other if they want.
Names of students and faculty at the Pinewood School pass between Mary and
      Samantha, and the former seems to regain some energy as they indulge in 
      pointless gossip. She even laughs aloud once, showing perfectly straight 
      teeth, and Sam grins.
Aubrey had gotten a call awhile ago that Alexander was around this way,
      although she had not been able to make it on out to the city until she 
      was finished with some other business. The Theurge steps into the 
      bookstore and heads up to the cafe towards the back where her eyes begin 
      to wander, looking for the Silver Fang kin.
Nicodemus is standing not too far of from Alexander, Jeremy having just
      recently departed. "Oh," Nicodemus says, somewhat awkwardly and primarly 
      to himself as Jeremy's off already. Looking a bit puzzled/perplexed by 
      this, the 50's goth begins making his way off towards a vacant table.
"Oh." Alexander echoes, not wishing to stand and stare at Nicodemus apparently.
      The man follows Jeremy, missing Aubrey's entrance by a moment or two.

	 There is something about this woman that is very plainly attractive in her
      appearance. Her slightly muscular form stands around five and a half feet 
      tall. She is athletically fit with a modest appearance and a curvaceous 
      figure. She is not noticeably Irish as some, although, a few figurative 
      features mark her ancestry. Naturally colored dark chestnut with streaks 
      of highlight tresses flow straight and smoothly to her gangly shoulders 
      with long bangs that fall loose around her defined face. Her eyes are a 
      vivid golden-brown and usually flicker with an inner fire that burns 
      deeply in the darker circuits of her pupils. She has a piecing over her 
      right eyebrow. Her lips are full, often have a lightly pout look to them, 
      as they sit below her sloped button nose. Her ears display half-dozen 
      earrings along her ear lobes. 
 	 Aubrey has that tomb-raider look going on, except she carries knives instead
      of a gun. Her tresses is placed in a tight, high pony-tail with a few 
      stray strands have escaped to drape along her face. Her upper torso 
      consists of a cling dark olive green wife-beater top. For her lower torso 
      consists of brown leather pants. A belt loops around her waist, 
      collecting a few objects in small pouches. Her footwear consists of a 
      pair of black boots with a steel toe and heavy buckles.
Carrying:
PhoenixCharm

Sliding into his chair once more, Jeremy holds the coffee in his hands, feeling
      the cup warm his palms quickly. He stares at the whip creamed contents 
      for a few moments, before slowly letting out a sigh. It seems that Alex 
      either goes ignored, or unintentionally forgotten.
Aubrey spots Alexander and then Jeremy. She pauses in her step and crosses her
      arms over one another as she moves into a seperate booth for a moment, 
      not about to get between whatever is going on.
Nicodemus nods to the dynamic teen girl duo as he passes. "Samantha," he says
      by way of greeting as he settles at a small table across from the pair 
      and begins positioning stuff for what looks like a college-like reading 
      session.
Deciding to leave Jeremy alone for now, Alexander takes a chair away from the
      goth Kin and sips at his coffee thoughtfully. The cake is still ignored.
"...so, *apparantly*, Marcos was fucking the foreign exchange chick *and* his
      girlfriend--" Samantha looks up, and Mary does too, as Nick passes their 
      table. The chubby girl grins, giving him a little wave, and Mary smiles 
      politely, too, an automatic reflex. "You *totally* need to come with me 
      to the Dom," Samantha adds as she turns back, lowering her voice again in 
      a conspiratory sort of way. "This weekend. Seriously. You need to 
      *relax*."
As the silence in his own little world becomes almost too loud in his head,
      Jeremy pops the headphones back into his ears, turns up the iPod, cranks 
      the volume and turns, heading for the exit without so much of a good-bye 
      or a glance over his shoulder.
Mary stifles a yawn behind one thin, pale hand. "Yeah, yeah, okay."
Sam gets a gleam in her eye. "I *mean* it. I mean, if it's just school stress
      and all, and I believe you!" (A dangerous look passes briefly across 
      Mary's face, then vanishes.) "If it's *stress*, you absolutely *need* to 
      come with me and dance and go brainless for a night. *Really.*" When Mary 
      looks dubious, Sam repeats, "This weekend. Come *on*, Mare."
Aubrey watches as Jeremy exits, giving him a glare before she slips up from the
      booth. Her eyes travel to the two girls conversing but only briefly 
      before she makings her way in Alexander's direction.
Nicodemus places an elbow on the table and props his head up with his hand as
      he opens his paperback and starts to quietly read, sinking into his own 
      little world.
Alexander glances up to watch Jeremy go, smiling when he sees Aubrey. "Hey you.
      How are you doing today?" He gestures to the seat in front of him as he 
      asks this, making space on the table for anything Aubrey might want.
Mary gives in to her friend with a sigh, slouching back in her chair. "Oh, all
      *right*."
Sam grins in triumph. "Kick. *Ass*."
Aubrey looks in the direction that Jeremy had left. "What was that all about?"
      she asks, ignoring everything else that Alexander had asked her.
Mary rolls her eyes, smiling wanly. Then she glances at her watch. "Hey, it's
      getting late. Y'wanna book?"
Samantha doesn't seem thrilled with this idea, but nods. "Yeah." They finish
      their consumables and start gathering up the flock of shopping bags.
"I don't know." Alexander replies. "He was fine and then that guy.." He
      gestures to Nicodemus, lowering his voice "That guy started talking to 
      him, mentioned some friend of theirs. Salem or Jack or something. 
      Apparently he died in a car crash."
Aubrey looks in the direction of Nicodemus and quirks her eyebrow. "I think it
      is time to go home," she murmurs to Alexander. "Could you give me a ride, 
      someone had dropped me off on the way here."
Meanwhile, the two teenage girls chat about inconsequential things as they
      prepare to go. On the way out, Sam gives Nicodemus another wave and a 
      casually friendly, "See ya 'round."
Nicodemus looks up as the two high schoolers prepare to depart and nods in
      their direction. He brushes a finger across the bridge of his nose and 
      then returns to reading his book.
"Home? But you only..." Alexander trails off. "Sure, I can give you a ride.
      Let's go."
Sam giggles and hooks her arm into Mary's; apparantly, Nicodemus just did
      something very amusing... and, in fact, the word "cute" can be heard from 
      the chubby girl as she and her friend vanish into the St. Claire evening 
      with their day's shopping.