Scene #8559: Sometimes Coffee is just Coffee

Owner	Pose
Kale Hearthward	Advantage of living in the Multiverse: If you're ever in the mood for a specific seasonal weather, it's just a bit of travel away. Spice of October leans into this, hard. The non-franchised coffee shop is close to one of the major warpgate thoroughfares that runs through Fall, it's in a nice scenic spot, and it serves primarily fall flavors. There's normal coffee and normal pastries available, but if you have a discerning palate for the difference between pumpkin spice and pumpkin actual there's half a dozen different blends to pick from, along with similarly pumpkined pastries, donuts, cider, -spiced bacon, and similar menues for maple, apple, and other fall-ish flavors. This is where Kale's invited Bercilak to - he's in a thin jacket, and if Bercilak's texted ahead Kale's grabbed his order for him and is waiting at an outdoor table. It's sparsely populated and reasonably private right now - the morning crowd's cleared out.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Bercilak: a cinamome crulere That, at least, isn't too hard to parse. What is hard to parse, not in the sense of being an ancestor of modern English, but in the sense of 'what the fuck are you talking about,' is his shirt. The Green Knight steps through the door in black denim pants ripped at the thighs, a wide studded belt, motorcycle boots, and a tight-fitting black tank top. Depicted on this tank top is a well-dressed skeleton (of course) in early 20th century clothing, riding an archaic motorcycle, captioned: ENOUGH ABOUT WALKABLE CITIES across the top; I WANT FUCKABLE CITIES across the bottom. The biker takes a seat at Kale's table with a broad smile, red irises warm and bright. "What itiden, bicche?" he asks.
Kale Hearthward	I don't want to ask. I don't want to ask. I don't want to... agh. I don't want to, but it's going to bother me all day if I don't. "Sorry, how do you, um..." Kale gestures at Bercilak's shirt. "Um - aside from that, things are... okay? Ish? Actually kind of... I don't know." "I'm trying to work on myself, but it's been a lot more difficult than I thought. I needed a break, and maybe someone to talk to. Thanks for coming out here."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Kale's question delights Bercilak--his already warm expression seems to shift like the sun breaking cloud cover, a meaty green palm pressed to his stomach as his head is thrown back in a laugh. "O," he answers cryptically, "I doth." >Are things okay? The Green Knight shrugs. "Wights art," he says simply. Things -are.- "Whider thei art a-right, oth that, whider thei art not, we art al cleped to lif, ne?" He pauses a moment, thick fingers drumming lightly on the table as his hand rests flat against it. "I trow thou hath espied turble withinne the Watch," he admits. "So als hath I. Ak thire is no Watch, but ifolk withinne hit. Swich shalt I concern mineself therewith--ifolk." The hand on his broad abdomen lifts, and waves dismissively. "Ak bitellen me what turbles thee."
Kale Hearthward	Kale's gotten better at translating Bercilak, or at least figuring things out from context. He hopes. "I think infighting and trouble to some degree is going to happen no matter what, just as this sort of..." He gestures vaguely. "Way of things moving. Individual parts of a machine trying to make it move. Paladins don't really have that problem - we're less flexible, but all of us could up and vanish one day and the organization would eventually fill back up." "... Not that I'm here to talk about factional stuff. If you want help sorting that out, I can... help a bit, I guess, in the name of keeping things stable, but otherwise I'm sure you can handle it." Kale goes to sip his Actual Pumpkin coffee to give himself a moment to gather his thoughts. "I'm trying to be nicer. To everyone generally, but also to a couple people specifically." "... And it feels like a lot of my efforts to do so just get thrown back into my face. I'm not... saying anyone owes anything to me, just because I'm nice to them, but it also feels like in a few cases it just... gets taken for weakness, since I'm not insulting them back anymore. Or something else is going on and I'm left as the bad guy with no idea what it is I did." "And it just... gets frustrating."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Thou art ilerning," says Bercilak, munching on his cruller. It looks comically small in his hand. "To be a rele man. To be kind, to be warm, unfeined." Unfeigned? Sincere, maybe. "Ilerning is frustratif," he says, gesturing with his free hand, nevertheless, to the small twisty pastry. "'Hau shalt I gate from dough to swich?'" An index taps the pastry twice to indicate what he means by 'swich.' "To thee, thou who'rt ilerning, dough is ugsom, frustratif in its difference to the crulere. Ak, sothli, 'tis potenciale." He smiles, then takes another bite, which kills the rest of the pastry. "Mm." He liked it. And, despite all the visual cues and vibes he gives off that would suggest he'd use his forearm, he is actually capable of using a napkin to wipe his mouth. "Fuck whider it shalt be interpreten as feblenesse. That is my counsel to thee--for onli the baker is toknoue what shape his honds shalt iwerk into the dough, and what he shalt desiren to outcome from the oven." "As for the lattere..." He chuckles. "Yea. Shit insukes, sib." He shrugs. "Al that thou may do is to kepe thy werk, til-whanne 'tis custumhede."
Kale Hearthward	Kale was absolutely prepared for Bercilak to use his forearm. "... I don't know how I feel about being dough," he says. "I don't know how I feel about 'Yeah it sucks, keep at it' being the best advice I can get, since... you're not the only person who's given me that advice." Or something like it. "... Thank you, though. And that looked good - I might have to get one next time I'm here..." Kale glances at his half-eaten Actual Pumpkin donut, then decides to take a few moments to finish it before embarking on the other topic du jour. "So... I wanted to ask," he says. "I like you. You like me." He does not voice an 'I hope' at the end of that sentence, an omission that takes some effort. "Things are going... pretty well?" "Would you be interested in trying this as a long term thing? You and me?"
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Bercilak chuckles. "Ak hit is sothli," he says, a single index raised and wagged. "Thou may do al manere of crafti shit with thy sword," continues the knight. "And in flight." He drags his index through the air in a loop. "Thou wert not abled of hit in one night, mereli because thou lest hit, ne?" He claps that hand against his barrel chest, a meaty thump sounding over the spot where his heart lies. "Thy herte must be trainen as thy longes and thy arms hath ben." >Is there any interest in making this a long term thing? Bercilak smirks, head tilted, peering at Kale from the corner of his eye. "Mortals art resonabli badde at 'leng-term,' thou understond," amusedly opines the knight. He leans back in his chair, taking Kale's measure from another angle. If it were large enough, he'd probably have an arm hooked around the back. "Mine ladi is mortal not, and she is 'bifore animan elles.'" "Stil," continues Bercilak, "I lik what thou lest of thyself," he says. "Ynogh-so that shouldst thou nede a sculpting hond, oth that," He adds with a grin, "A pinch of sugre, a spot of warmth... I shalt iminde not to yeve hit."
Kale Hearthward	"Ah." So not entirely a rejection. Kale rubs the back of his head, sheepishly. "Honestly, that's why I lead with the one topic over the other. I... think I need a lot of help. And warmth. And maybe some sugar. So wanted to make sure you knew what you'd be getting into. Heh."