"I'm not the one living in an attic talking to my friends through the cracks in the ceiling sweet child." Grace forgot that she'd dropped the look of the old lady, and now, with her normal appearance, didn't look much older than the boy staring at her from the dark. There was something strange about him, something nearly animal like. Careful Gracey the old women cautioned within her mind. You're not dealing with an ordinary young man. This one's dangerous.

Refusing to let the voice of a disembodied ghost scare her, Grace leaned forward toward him and extended a hand to touch his arm. "Why are you up here all alone sweet heart?" The feelings coming from the boy when she touched him confused and frightened her. There was so much innocence swirling inside an equal cloud of ferocity, and under it all, was hunger. "I think of all the people in that bar, you're by far the most interesting I've come across. Won't you tell Gran... no.. sorry, forgot who I was trying to be for a moment... Wait... let me start over. Hi," she took her hand off his arm and held it calmly in front of her. The hunger in the boys energy had frightened her, but she was certain she didn't want to show it. "My name is Gracey, and I'm come a very long way to find a little peace."

Clearly, trying to be a helpful person wasn't in Garrett's style. "Well, the absolute futility of your situation is extremely disheartening and I find it very hard to believe that its all as hopeless as you tell it. Fifty-five percent of all personal turmoil is perception: you think its hopeless, then its hopeless. So your uncle is abusive. That part is real and I have no doubt about it for obvious reasons. You don't think you can go to the COPS about it, but have you tried? Have you tried going to one of those "Safe Places" with the annoying yellow signs? How can you know how hopeless your situation is unless you've exhausted all the possibilities?" He was getting ahead of himself and this was turning into a rant. He was an optimistic person when it came to problem solving, but it usually manifested itself in a hostile way. "Now, I have a deal here with Katya that if she works here she gets free room and board. I could do that with you, unless the next words out of your mouth are to the color of 'I don't have any skills.' Because that's a deal breaker around here."

Leonard had resigned to wiping down a tabletop, listening. His eavesdropping habit needed to stay in check, but honestly there was nothing else to do in a place like this. "Ninety-eight-point-five percent of all statistics are made up on the spot," he mumbled in a sing-song manner, smiling complacently. He loved listening to Garrett's rants.


Hans tilted his head to the side and scrambled backwards to sit crosslegged on the ceiling tiles. His first impression was correct: she was a weird thing. But he wasn't one to dwell on weirdness. "My name is Hans, and I've come a long way to find something good to eat." He swayed, and fidgeted. "I'm up here because Garrett doesn't want me bothering the guests."

"Aren't you freezing?" She asked the Hans, noticing his attire. "Anyway, I'm one of the guests, and I say I'm fine with you bothering me. I'd ask you why you've come so far for something to eat, but I think a better question on my part would be to ask you where you're from. So, where is it that you've travelled so far from Hans?"

At the slam of the door, Garrett's attention was seized from the boy he was speaking to and was redirected to the woman who had just walked into the bar. He had a feeling that he would be ignoring the teenager for the rest of the night. He sauntered casually up to the table where she had sat down. "Welcome to Fids," he said with a sleazy smile. "Can I... get you anything?"


Hans shook his head. No, he wasn't cold. He never wore a shirt, regardless of how cold it was. Shirts were itchy and heavy. He started fidgeting, twiddling his thumbs and contemplating the question. He itched at his nose and pointed to the west. "I came from that way," he said, grinning. "Which way did you come from?"

Gracey smiled, there was something endearing about the strang young man. For some reason she felt compelled to honesty. "I came from that way." She pointed to the north. "A very small village, along the sea. The salt makes the air taste savory, but it dries the skin. The people there are all fishermen, and none to kind. I left when my mentor, the one who took care of me, and taught me all that I know, died unexpectedly."

Garrett grinned a sleazy grin at the woman. "Sure thing," he said before retreating into the kitchen. "One cup of the best coffee in town, coming right up." He disappeared behind the kitchen doors. Leonard watched him go, quite unaware that he was glaring. He had a tendency to show his emotions on his sleeve, and he was clearly not fond of the way Garrett flirted shamelessly. When he re-emerged with the cup of coffee, Leonard immediately dropped his glare and concentrated on cleaning the tables.

At this point, is should be know that "The Best Coffee in Town" is the name of the brand that he had stored in the kitchen and was not so much a quantifiable claim as one might think.

He set the coffee cup down on the table. "You look like you've had a long day," he said.


"Unexpectedly," Hans asked of Gracey. "Does that happen a lot?" His eyes seemed to be following an invisible fly around the room, back and forth and around, as if he couldn't keep his mind in one place. He often had trouble with focus.

"No no, well, at least it didn't used to." Gracey sighed and rested her head on her hands. "The people used to like us, they'd come for is for help with just about everything. " she blew a piece of hair out of her face again, then gave up and tied her hair back with a piece of string she'd had tied around her wrist. "But... then one day something happened. Something terrible. They blamed the stregga and I, and chased us from the town. She was badly hurt in the process, and.. well... let's just suffice it to say she couldn't have made the journey, so she sent me on. And now, hear I am." She looked at the boy "do you ever feel like your just totally lost? Just wandering without purpose? Cause, honestly, I do."

"Lost?" He got a sad look in his eye, as if conjuring a memory. He was, of course, capable of feeling complex emotions, but the hard part was putting them into words. He'd felt alone before, and even now so close to his family he still felt alone. But he had only felt lost once in his life, and it was quite long ago. But that was a much more physical sense of the word, and he knew that his new friend didn't mean that, though he had been lost in a spiritual, mental sense. But his face brightened when the memory finished and he shook his head. "Not now that I got my family," he said. "Buuuuut I used to beeee..."

"How did you find your way out? I envy you honestly, it must be nice to have someplace to call home and family to be close to. I never knew my real family, just the stregga." her eyes had finally begun to adjust to the dark, and it occurred to her how cluttered with old junk and rubble the small attic space was. "My heavens, how do you ever navigate around up here in the dark so quietly? Why if I tried to, I'd be falling on my face every 5 minutes!" she gave a little laugh before leaning back on the wall behind her again. "sometimes I get to feeling like there are a thousand different roads laid out before me in my mind, but never any signs as to what lays down any of them, and just when I think I've found one with a good reason to walk down it, a whirl wind sweeps through and turns me about, and rearranges everything I thought I knew. I've been on the move like this for months now, aimless. Seems like everywhere I stop for long things just go badly."

Hans had been in the dark so long that he could almost see everything in the attic space with little to no problem. The first few weeks had been difficult, though: he had to get used to being in the dark by memorizing where all the junk was and what was in there just in case he should spy something that was needed through the floorboards. By now, he hardly thought of them as piles of junk. They were part of the scenery. But that was not the important question. He scratched an itch at the back of his head, looking more as though he had fleas than he did dry skin. "You have a choice?" He snickered a bit and leaned closer, putting his palms on the floor so that he was on all fours, looking at her sideways. "That's a really weird thing to say: choosing your road. I don't know anyone that does that anymore."



Garrett, always happy to be in the presence of a pretty lady, pulled out the remaining chair next to her and took a seat. He saw absolutely no issues with doing this. What were they going to do: fire him? He was the owner, and as far as he could see talking to a potential regular was an investment. "You might say I'm a fan of the way things used to be," he said, in response to her comment about there not being many taverns left in this town, but almost certainly insinuating that he was more chivalrous than he appeared. "Pubs like this one used to be how they regulated underage drinking and public intoxication. But with it being cheaper to drink at home people are less likely to seek out a place like this to save a dollar or two." He leaned in closer. "But that's not why I opened this place. I opened Fid's because I genuinely like meeting people like you."

Gracey was genuinely confused by his statement. "But dear Hans," Gracey didn't so much as lean forward as she simply stopped leaning back. She had the impression there was to be some form of intimidation or at least expression of dominance in his movements, even if he didn't realize it. She sat up strait but dipped her head down to stay at eye level with him in his peculiar stance. "We all have choices, don't we? And our choices are what direct us down the roads of our lives. Most people just don't think in the long term enough to see each choice they make as being a step in the direction of their road."

"Manager, owner, proprietor," he said in a sing-song fashion. "Bought it off of a guy named Phineas for pretty cheap. He said he needed to leave soon. Something about having to take a journey." He shrugged. "I assume magic is involved. It usually is."


Hans shook his head. "No, no..." he said. "Choice is fluid." He sat back, rather disappointed that she didn't squirm when he came too close to her. That was always the fun part: making them writhe. "Even if you choose to run instead of fight, you end up fighting anyway. Nature of things..."

Katya flicked her tail and rolled her eyes as she watched Garrett try to put the moves on this newcomer. She looked over at Leonard and smiled at the look of disgust on his face. She giggled and called over to him in a half-whisper, "What's wrong Lenny? Can't stand to see the man work?" the sarcasm in her tone was apparent as she smiled at him.

She though about it for a long moment. The stregga had always taugh her she was free to make her own choices in life, but was she? Could anything she'd done differently have kept things from going this way? Or was it inevitable? After an awkwardly long silence she muttered a brief retort before changing the topic.

"Maybe, you're right, but I still have to believe we can at least pick our battles, or at least the field on which it's to be fought. Speaking of fighting, why is it that you feel the need to try to make me uncomfortable?" She leaned forward and put her hand on his forarm. "We're just two friends here having a polite conversation. You've no need to intimidate me dear child."

Leonard twitched at being called "Lenny." The nickname didn't suit him in the slightest. But he let it go: no need to dwell on it. To answer her question truthfully would reveal something embarrassing about himself. Something about fidelity, but he resigned to reassure himself that now would not be the time for such a thing. "I just... I think its kind of unprofessional when he flirts."



Hans rolled onto his back, somewhat resembling a bored housecat. "You think I'm a friend?" A smile slowly grew on his face: a childlike smile that only hinted more strongly at his possible psychosis. "I don't have a lot of friends"

She noticed his reaction and laughed on the inside. He wasn't a Lenny, that was certain, but she wanted to poke at him a little, "True story. Maybe he thinks he'll get some good tips if he makes the ladies blush," she yawned, her canines flashing in the dim lights. Sensing Leonard's discomfort, she went back to work and didn't bother him further. He seemed nice, but at the same time very hesitant to talk more. Cutting her losses she busied herself washing glasses and wiping down the bar.

"Of course I'd call you a friend." She Jabbed him playfully in the ribs, trying her very best to seem like she wasn't extremely unnerved already. Something was so off about the ceiling dwelling shirtless boy. She wanted to know what, and the best way to do that seemed to be to keep calm. So Gracey swallowed her fears as best as she could, and tried to go with the flow. "I'm of the mindset that everyone you can have enjoyable conversation with is your friend until one of you does something to merit being less than that. Why, what would you consider a friend to be? Or, for that matter, what am I if not a friend?"

"Its not making them blush that I'm worried about," Leonard mumbled, wiping the table for what seemed like the fifth time. He wasn't sure if the discoloration on the table surface was a stain or a part of the woodgrain. "And he doesn't need tips. He does this out of habit." He was not subtle about how much it bothered him.

"Weeeeell... I dunno," Hans said indecisively. He rocked back and forth on his back childishly. "I don't really have a lot of friends because people think I'm weird." He pointed at his new friend Gracey, smilling. "But if Gracey isn't a friend, then that makes Gracey a food."

Food... oh god Gracey what have you gotten yourself into now. She scolded herself internally, though she smiled and gave a nervous laugh externally. She contemplated trying to slip back down the hole she'd come up through, but she knew the if she took her time and was careful to avoid falling, he'd surely just catch her, but if she tried to move quickly enough to avoid him catching onto her fear in time to stop her, she'd more than likely fall, and he'd have the upper hand anyway. Best to just calm yourself and stay the course Grace. The old woman's voice invaded her mind Just because his customs are strange, doesn't mean he's beyond compassion. You need any friend you can find right now child.

"Well in that case, I think I'd certainly prefer to stay on the friends path, if you think that would be alright?" She smiled again, a little calmer and more genuinely this time. "Besides, how many other people can sit and enjoy talking in a dark attic like this? I think that's a good reason to start a friendship, don't you?"