Here We Are [Iggy, some language]

[Waddle]

The flaming redhead crouched on the balls of her feet, and had been for five minutes now. She was concentrating on watching people pass by her and never notice her, even though she was in plain view and staring at the backs of their heads intently. Some had that instinct, that instinct that warned 'I'm being watched'. Most didn't, and she had to try hard to keep from giggling when they walked past her and continued on their tour of the gardens with no idea she had ever noticed them. A few minutes later, she'd gotten bored with the game. Out of pure defiance of her own body, she continued it for just two minutes more, counting in her head - One Mississippi... Two Mississippi..., and later, Fifty-nine Mississippi... Sixty Mississippi. Standing, she stretched, grunting in a very unladylike fashion as her back and knees popped. Then she began to pop her knuckles as she looked around.

Now, where to walk? Without a good answer to that, she put her headphones on her ears, pressed play on the iPod hidden in her jeans pocket and set off randomly. Soon, she discovered a nice pattern, circling around the greater part of the gardens. Once, twice, three times she walked this, before she noticed that someone was standing in the middle of a busy walkway, motionless. Hadn't he been there before? And the time before that? Was he even alive? She passed by and took another round before coming back to examine him more closely. No, he was breathing. He was alive. But he was so still... It was almost freaky. But it was none of her business. She wouldn't bug him because he wasn't bugging her.

Five, six, seven, he never moved until eight, and even then, it wasn't of his own accord. A young man, early twenties, slammed into him, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground. "Hey!" shouted the man. Watch it, spit-fuck!" Hatty knew this man at first glance. Some goon, some rich, cocky idiot who thought he was all that because he was decently good-looking and had an expensive gold watch and dressed like a businessman. Hatty glowered as she stormed over, yanking the headphones off her ears and letting them fall around her neck. "Hey!" she shouted at him. "Why don't you watch where you're going, asshole?!" Hatty hated this guy. He was a pervert and a sexist man, and there was little that got Hatty more ticked off than a sexist man.

Her anger only tripled as he turned to her, one eyebrow lifted. His gaze flicked down her body, taking in her form, quite like a rancher would of a heifer he was considering buying to add to his herd. Her teeth gritted, she lifted her chin and met his eyes squarely. He was just asking for a punch. "Oh, hi there, sweetcakes," he said, his eyes meeting hers again. "Do I know you?" That was it. He'd just earned it.

"No," she snapped, "but prepare to meet my fist." She punched him on the nose, hoping to break it. That'd mess up his good looks for sure. He grunted and staggered back, hands going up to his nose. No blood. Hatty cursed in her head and shook out her hand, her eyes never leaving the man. After making sure his face was pretty much intact, he turned back to the redhead. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth rattled in her mouth and she felt her brain hit the sides of her skill. "You're gonna pay for that!" he shouted at her. She tried to pull away from his grip, but he was too strong - He actually works out. One of his hands released that shoulder and instead twisted itself in the back of her shirt, and he began to half push, half drag her somewhere. Kicking, she managed one defiant blow to his shin, good enough to leave a big bruise and maybe draw blood. She was wearing boots, after all. But otherwise, she was pretty much helpless unless someone helped her. Someone helping her in this quiet little town wasn't a likely thing.

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Why did people insist on making his life so hard? Hadn't his life been hard enough? Iggy sighed angrily. He was only 21, that meant he had a lot left to go. He listened to several people go by, none of their voices really distinct. He could smell flowers, and every now and then some sort of snack for children, like Cheese-its or Fruit Snacks. He wrinkled his nose whenever a Fruit Snack kid went by. Nothing was worse than the smell of artificial fruit. None of it really left an impression though. The hour had passed by so painfully slow, and he couldn't remember a single thing that happened during it. Well, except for the cinnamon. More frequent that the fruit snacks came the scent of cinnamon. Ichabod had been standing still for well over an hour. He had hoped that people would just leave, but seeing as the gardens were a public place filled with gorgeous scenery [that he couldn't see] he doubted they'd just get up and go. Why was here anyway?

Ichabod had tried subtly looking for his fallen key by slowly moving his foot around, but that search ended quickly when someone stepped on his foot. He snarled, but didn't say anything. Iggy suspected that he wasn't the only blind one around. He got stepped on eight more times before actually being shoved. Iggy blinked, though nothing really changed. It took him a second to realize he was on the floor. He smelled expensive cologne. Whoever bumped into him was older, but not as tall as him. Iggy almost laughed. What did he call me? Ichabod stood up slowly, almost like an old man would. His heart was beating fast, and he was a bit scared, but anger over-powered all of that. Iggy clenched his fist and his arm tensed up ready to pull back and punch, but something interrupted him. His ear twitched at the sound of a girl, and his jaw clenched tightly. The last thing he wanted was a girl to help him out. He could handle Smelly on his own. Ichabod tried to relax, and focus on the conversation instead of Smelly's arrogant attitude that practically rolled off him in waves. He made a mental note. This girl smelled like cinnamon.

Ichabod let things transpire, smiling at what he assumed was a punch to Smelly's nose. His smile disappeared as Smelly dragged Cinnamon off. This man was as dumb as a sack of corn. You can't just drag off a girl in broad daylight and expect no one to intervene. Iggy walked after them, and shoved who he hoped was Smell. "Your mother never teach you how to treat a lady?" Iggy hadn't been taught, but he learned from movies. Some part inside him always wanted to be a hero, and that made being rescued by a girl hurt even more. This could make it even.

Greg turned around and shoved Iggy back, momentarily letting go of the red-head. He didn't have anything smart of clever to say, so he just let his fists do the talking. A swift punch to the eye replaced a witty comment. Iggy put a hand to his eye and didn't move for a long time. He felt the familiar signed of "leaving" but didn't fight them this time. So what if he lost his temper? This guy deserved whatever Iggy gave him. Ichabod came to soon, or what he thought was soon. He wasn't really aware of how long he had been gone. He clicked twice but couldn't tell what had happened. He couldn't smell blood, but blood was one of those tricky smells that hid underneath other things. Cinnamon was still standing, which was good. Iggy felt satisfied, and a little sick with himself, but that satisfaction of sticking up for himself out weighed anything else.

[You can make up what Iggs did, cause it'll take too long if i do.]

[Waddle]

Hatty retreated a pace or two from the combatants when she got the chance. Everything happened so quickly between the men that, by the time she got over her initial shock, one was already staggering away from the other. The businessman lay on the ground, bleeding, panting. Hatty thought that she could hear him whimpering quietly.

She tried to replay what had happened in her mind. Businessman's punch, then the other man had lost it. Punch, punch, punch, the third had drawn the first blood. Businessman had landed a punch, a kick, then had to go on defensive. He'd fallen, the other had pursued him down... The rest was a blur in her mind as numbness and adrenaline slowly faded. She had the distinct impression that, during the fight, she'd understood everything clearly. But the adrenaline had left, and taken with it the memories. She suddenly felt like being sick.

I will not! she chided herself. I won't let either of these men have that satisfaction. She didn't like that she had had to be saved. Even still, she moved slowly to her savior's side, until she felt his sleeve on her arm. She spared him a glance, saw that sickly satisfied smile, and tasted bile in the back of her throat. Is he some sort of monster? she wondered. Who could take satisfaction out of this?

Businessman stumbled to his feet, glowering at Hatty and her savior. His face was stained with scarlet blood, and as he sneered his hatred, Hatty saw at that least three teeth were missing. "You will both hear from me again," he snarled. Then, he turned on his heel and fled, shoving through the crowd that had gathered. "Oh yeah?!" Hatty called after him. "Too chicken to show your smashed face to us?!" That would get him. The bastard would never look the same. Scars... Those scars could make him look more attractive, but missing teeth sure won't. He'll get those replaced, sure enough. But scars could make him more handsome. Damn.

Hatty turned slowly to her savior. "Thanks," she said sincerely, offering him a true smile. Then it faded to be replaced by a half angry look. "I coulda taken care of myself, ya know." Her anger at having to be saved returned, kicking and biting. No, I won't get mad at him. She softened her voice. "But... really... That guy's a douche. A million thanks." People were staring. People were whispering. Hatty casted them a glower. "Don't you people have lives?!" she shouted at them. She linked her arm through her savior's and pulled him away.

Something glittered on the ground, catching her eye. She bent to pick it up before continuing to storm away.

Once away from people, she stopped and faced him. "My name's Hatty," she introduced herself. "Might I have the name of my knight in shining armor?" She smiled playfully, then giggled stupidly.

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Ichabod became aware of his smile, and quickly wiped it off his face. He didn't know what he had done, but from Smelly's whimpers it was probably bad. If Iggy were that type of person, he might actually pity him. But Smell didn't deserve pity, and Iggy wasn't the type to pity. He listened to Smelly get up and say his last words, struggling to keep a poker face. He had done fine.. until the girl spoke. After everything, she still wasn't scared? His jaw dropped slightly, and his sightless eyes widened. His surprise only grew when Cinnamon, as he had decidedly called her, addressed him. He had expected to be ignored, apparently not.

His nose wrinkled. She had some odd mood changes. Iggy could hear the whispers, but he had learned to ignore them. It seemed to him that wherever he went there were whispers, some about him and some weren't. These were about him.. and her. He could hear them talking about her attitude, her clothes, and especially her hair. They referred to her as "that redheaded girl" and to him as "the tall guy". Surprisingly, it made him feel good. Most people could tell right off the bat he was blind, but recently he hadn't heard any mention of it. Maybe he was getting better at faking sight. He had tried hard to remember to blink more often.

Cinnamon pulled him away from the crowd. Iggy's eyes widened once again, not out of surprise, but out of worry. She pulled him away from his key. He yanked his arm away from hers, and momentarily look like a scared child before regaining his composure. It was too late. He wouldn't know where to go back to. He sighed. No need to worry about it now. He put his hand on the small of her back and lead her. He liked it better this way. She would really be leading him, but no one need to know that. It was the same principle as a child holding onto it's mother's skirt, though this gave a less pitiful appearance. "It's Ichabod, but you should call me Iggy." There was an awkward pause. He didn't really know what else to say. Iggy didn't talk too much. He was thinking about what Cinnamon had said. Knight in shiny armor? He liked the sound of that..

[Sorry it took so long to get this. Grounding, you know. She [finally] forgot. Actually, she forgot about the grounding, but grounded me again for a different reason. Dx]

[Waddle]

Iggy... She repeated the name out loud once, under her breath. She liked it. For some reason. It sounded foreign. Ichabod. Must have been foreign. "You don't talk much, do you?" she asked, then continued on. "Yeah, that jerk back there, he keeps bugging me. And calling me 'August'. When I told him I had no idea who 'August' is, he just laughed and said that he wasn't stupid. He is stupid." She snorted in disgust. "I mean, if someone who looked exactly like me was walking around town, I think I woulda noticed her. I'm not cow-brained in the least." Looking down at the key in her hand, she rolled it between her fingers, then danced it across the back of her knuckles like a coin, a trick she'd perfected after long practice.

"Is this yours?" she asked Iggy, holding up the key. "I saw it right where we were standing and picked it up." His eyes caught her attention suddenly. Something was odd about them... It was hard to describe. They seemed out-of-focus, but he was looking right at her. Not at the key. Is he blind? He couldn't be blind... What would a blind person be doing in the park? Didn't blind people need whatever those stick things were? The things they held out in front of them, to feel what was in front of them? No, not all of them, she thought. Weren't some able to get around like bats, clicking and listening to the echo as the sound bounced off objects and back to them?

Either way, she quickly took his wrist in her hand and laid the key in it. Still, she could not hold back the question. "Are you blind?" Curling the fingers closed around the key, she looked back up into his eyes. "Not that you have to answer... I'm just curious. Don't answer, if you don't want it. I don't mean to be pushy, by any means." Liiiiii-arrrrrr said a sing-song voice in her head. She meant to be pushy, but not too much so. It didn't matter if Iggy was blind- he'd saved her from Greg. I coulda saved myself, argued the voice. Iggy just helped, because he's a nice guy. Oh, I shouldn't have mentioned it. Disgusted with herself, she let go of his wrist and backed a step away, staring at the ground, her face steadily reddening.

[It's fine, Tatersprecious xD Sorry for not-so-good reply.]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

She talked a lot. It was refreshing. He didn't talk much, and no one really talked to him. Iggy listened to her talk with a smile. She talked on and on and he never really had to say anything. It was by far the easiest conversation he'd ever had since coming to Noatak. What was she holding up? It could be his key, but what if it wasn't? Iggy clicked in a desperate attempt to locate what she was holding. It was no use, whatever it was was too small. He tried to focus his sightless eyes onto whatever was in her hand, but he had no idea how far it was away from his face. Ichabod gave up and "stared" at her face instead. At least he knew where that was.

Embarrassed, he felt her hand wrap around his wrist, making goosebumps trail along his arm at the unexpected touch. Something colder was pressed into his already cold hands. It was his key. He felt so stupid. Ichabod should have just said it was his. Chances were it was his key. What else could have been too small to hear and at right at their feet?

"Are you blind?"

Surprisingly, he had never heard that before. It made him a little happy to hear it, oddly enough. She had to ask. The thought brought a smile to his face. She curled his fingers around his key, the thing that caused so much trouble. Her hands were sorta rough, which meant she worked hard. He pulled his hand away and stuck the tiny metal troublemaker in his pocket. He was wondering how to answer the question. Iggy could just blatantly admit it, but he had never honestly said it out loud. He wouldn't have to, if his life had been different. He was angry again, not at her, but at life and his father and pretty much everything else.

He let her babble while he thought, not really listening to her. Ichabod tried to get his mind off his father, and instead focused on Cinnamon. He clicked again. He was hoping her height would clue him in on her age, but that never worked. She was shorter than him, and to Iggy that meant she was only a kid. Cinnamon could be tall for her age, or slouching, or an old lady. The last was very unlikely. She was too light on her feet, that meant she was young and healthy. "Mhmm. Blind as a bat." Iggy knew bats weren't blind, but it was an expression. It was easier to say than he thought. "Have been for a while now, Cinnamon." His mental nickname slipped, not like he cared though.

[Waddle]

"Really?!" Hatty's voice squeaked with exitement. "I've never met a blind person!" She stared into his sightless eyes, her own gray pair wide with wonder. "That's pretty cool, you know." She half-raised a hand to wave in front of his eyes, thought better of it, and let it fall back to her waist. "Cinnamon? I like it." A blind person must have a better sense of hearing and smell, so he was probably able to smell things on her that she couldn't. But I don't even use cinnamon shampoo or anything... She had walked into the frangerance store the other day. It had driven her out quickly, because her nose became so clogged with the different scents and it made her dizzy. I wonder how Iggy would deal in that place. Not well, was her answer.

Even here, they were attracting odd stares from people near them, people close enough to hear their words. Hatty shot them a look, then put her hand gently on Iggy's bicep. He's strong. She could feel the muscles beneath her hand easily. She started walking. "People need to mind their own business, do they not?" It was just loud enough for those certain people to hear. They all looked away quickly. Hatty continued talking before Iggy had the chance to answer. "I dislike people. Especially that jerk, Greg. The business guy. Thanks against for helping me, if I haven't thanked you already. I forget easily. And I have no clue where we're going. We're just going somewhere. Is that alright?"

[Guh, no muse tonight. Bad post in Lifeline too. Sorry. xP]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

She kept confusing him. Cinnamon didn't do things like normal people; she didn't even filter her words, or avoid the fact he was blind, like everyone else. Ichabod didn't think it was cool, but it was nice that she did. "Glad you think so." He forced sarcasm into his words, though honestly, he meant it in sincerity. It was a good thing Hatty liked the nickname, because Iggy wasn't gonna stop if she didn't. "Is Hatty your real name?" Immediately he thought her parents must have been drunkards or something. Who named their child Hatty of all things?

The longer she talked, the more strongly she smelled of cinnamon. Iggy wondered if it was her breath. To him, each person had their own smell. Some were faint, while others overbearing, and there were a few that varied. No one smelled exactly like something, but Ichabod always made an approximation. Hatty smelled a bit like fresh air, warm grass, and cinnamon all rolled into one; cinnamon being the strongest. The sentence "I dislike people." sounded wrong coming from her. It suited someone like him so much better. It was unexpected, but not completely disliked.

"Fine by me. I'd go anywhere you'd tell me." It just slipped, and as soon as it did, he regretted it. Iggy hadn't meant it that way. Sometimes he'd say something and it'd come across wrong. He offended people often, almost always on purpose, but sometimes unintentionally. He clicked his jaw nervously. It's not like he cared what she thought, but he was afraid she'd just leave, and for some reason, he really didn't want her to go. Maybe if Ichabod were normal, his slip of the tongue wouldn't be so offensive, but Iggy was blind, disabled. They had just met, and here he was, some creepy, blind man hitting on a kid. He shouldn't have left his apartment. Too make things worse, he just had to open his mouth. "I'm hungry." He was already making plans to take her to that restraunt, the rose something. Just to repay her for helping him, of course.. Iggy repeatedly denied calling it a date. He wasn't some pedophile.

[Waddle]

She snorted iwth derision, crossing her arms. "No, actually, it's not. Hatami is my full name. Ridiculous name, isn't it? But Mom named me that after her great-grandmother. Guess it was to try and make me feel more like I belonged there." After a pause, she elaborated, knowing he would be wondering what she was rambling about. "I'm adopted. Didn't figure out 'til 'bout three weeks ago." She didn't linger too long on that particular subject. "I coulda gone by Journey... Hmm... Journey. I like that better than Hatami. And Hatty, even. What do you think?" She was seriously considering it. Many people asked about her odd name. Journey wasn't a very odd name, nor was it too common. It sounded nice in her head.

At the mention of food, she beamed up at him. "I am too." She wasn't really, but she wanted to get to know this man. For some reason, she felt like he would lead her to something intrigueing, something interesting. Not to say that he wasn't interesting. He was plenty interesting. Maybe we can go on an adventure together! She scolded the voice in her head for being so childish and looked ahead again. She wasn't some 5-year-old, excited over something so easily. She was 18. Going to go eat with a... How old was this man? He was at least twenty. He seemed younger now than he did when she'd passed him in the park. So I'm going to eat with a twenty-one or twenty-two or twenty-three year old. Well, at least he can't be arrested on accusations of being a pedophile.

[I'm seriously considering the name thing. And so sorry for short post... I failed xD]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

A slick smile crawled across his face. Ichabod had said it so many times, he had convinced himself that it wasn't a date. It put his [very weak]conscious at ease. "Let's get going then.. Journey." He liked his nickname better, but he'd call her whatever she wanted to be called. Iggy had never met many people. He was born in Transylvania, born into an already established community. He had been known since birth, and had known the same group of people his entire life. Ever since he had moved, Ichabod had done his best to avoid everyone he didn't know, that pretty much meant everyone with the exception of Rubin. Ichabod slid his hand to touch the small of her back, and lead her to where he was certain that rose restaurant was.

He only ate there when he got tired of fruit, which was a rare thing. It was probably the only place he ate out at. Ichabod didn't like eating out. He could never read the bill. The waitress knew him, though they never said a word. Every time he went there, she was always the one to take care of his table. At first, Iggy had assumed it was a coincidence, but it happened far too often for Iggy to pass of as chance. She just stood there, shaking with excitement, sometimes humming, probably grinning like an idiot. Ichabod could never be sure. Something smelled like over powering lotion and perfume, that meant they just passed the fragrance store. He started walking faster, forgetting to make sure Journey could keep up. They were close, and he was impatient.

[Kinda short. I apologize.]

[Waddle]

Her broad smile faded somewhat as he put his hand on the small of her back. Fidgeting uncomfortably, she began to wonder if this was not a good thing to be doing. Normally, she would have punched another man who did such a thing. But this guy was different. Well, he had helped her fend off the dreaded Greg. That automatically gave him points. It didn't help that he was blind, and she had nothing better to do other than pursue questions about himself, if any such subject came up. It would be awkward to just start a whole quiz bowl on this man's whole life.

Stilling herself, even though she knew it was too late to pretend she hadn't be comfortable, Journey let herself relax. Her nose wrinkled as they pass the fragrance store - she hated the place to an extreme. So many scents, all mugged up together, so stuffy... Iggy sped up a little and, rather than argue, Journey matched his pace, stretching her legs out farther and smiling. Her own excitement got the better of her and she sped up to a trot, then took Iggy's arm and ran backwards in front of him, laughing. She felt all giddy inside, an excited little child. "Oh, c'mon, I'm hyper!"[/color] The light of the Rose's sign appeared over Iggy's shoulder and Journey skidded to a halt. "Oh. It's right there."[/color] Feeling stupid, she hooked her arm in Iggy's and led him back to the entrance of the Rose.

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Ichabod moved his hand, feeling awkward and out of place. He slowed down so he wouldn't trip, no longer having anything or anyone to guide him. It was a natural reaction to touch her. Touch was his sight; He used it just as frequently as she used her eyes. He could hear her urge him forward, but he couldn't go faster. Limitations followed Ichabod around like a gosling follows it's mother. He had felt her discomfort and it made him feel filthy inside. Right. Why would anyone want to be touched by me? It wasn't entirely true. Ichabod was quite the lady-killer, but the women he hung around never satisfied him. There was always something wrong. Iggy had always figured he wanted a polite girl, but that was before he met someone with spunk. Pervert. A little voice inside his head sneered. Ichabod knew it was his conscious, but it took a few seconds to register. It had been so long since he heard anything remotely related to guilt. She's a little girl. Ichabod let out a little snarl, not sure if it was mental or not. It isn't a date. Ichabod shut up his guilt in a small box, and buried it deep. We're just.. mutually hungry.

He felt even dumber when they passed it, but Ichabod was distracted by her. Now that she brought him back to the front of the restaurant, he could hear the faint buzz of the neon sign. Ichabod walked in without touching her, hopefully she'd get the hint and follow, because he wasn't going to make the same mistake and touch her. Iggy passed by the reservations desk without giving it a thought, because it was one of those things that didn't apply to him. They never made him get reservations for simple reason like he doesn't own a phone, he arrives so infrequently that it really is never an inconvenience, and Iggy somehow managed to come during a slow day. He never planned it, but it always turned out that way. It might seem like a sweet deal, but Iggy would trade it for sight. He would trade all of his "perks", enhanced sense of smell, hearing, and touch for his sight any day. The only thing he'd miss would be able to get away with being snarky. He had "regular" table, though he really wish he didn't. Special treatment always embarrassed him thought he never showed it. Ichabod brought women here, but he'd never brought one for non-romantic purposes. It was like he could foresee something odd happening. What? He didn't know.. but Ichabod was a creature of habit, and the unexpected always scared him.

August sat on the counter top back in the kitchen. Today was slow, which was odd. It always seemed like Saturdays were packed, but today was just.. different. She couldn't pin-point it exactly, but she felt like she was waiting for something or someone. The jolly cook had been staring at August for some time. He let out a deep laugh. "Ey, August. What's with the face?" August broke out of her weird trance and smiled at Akahi, the cook from Samoa with a large gut and a kind face. His eyes were small and beady, and were smiling just as wide as his lips. His pants were four times bigger than her. His apron was already stained, though there hadn't been much to cook. She could already spot the extra food Akahi was making for her and Anthony. Aki liked August, and it was a good thing he did too, or else she and Ant would have starved a long time ago. "It's nothing, Aki. I just.. felt.. like i should be doing something.. or meeting someone." August shrugged off the silly feeling, letting her muscles relax. She was about to start swinging her feet, but all those relaxed muscles found themselves wound tight.

"Why aren't you workin'?" Harlen let out a frustrated growl. August was the only employee that didn't co-operate. Her ADD wasn't even the one to blame. In all actuality, it was Akahi. He always called her over to tell her something new. It ranged from a story about his 7 kids, to a song he made up in the shower. Harlen was a good guy, if only a little bossy. He was a young New Yorker, and his accent was only just disappearing. Harlen was good-looking, a little lanky. His hair was black and he kept it neat and slicked back. He was kind enough not to fire her, though she honestly deserved it. She was a bad waitress. August was too open with customers, she forgot orders, and she even broke plates. [At first on accident, but then she grew to like the sound and started on purpose.] "And where's your tie??" August hated the dress code, and it was the only thing Harlen insisted on. She held up the black skinny tie, and he took it from her. He liked the dress code, but she thought it was dorky. Black pants, white button-up, and a tie. She had to keep her hair back in a ponytail, which she always felt made her ears stand out, and a weird smock-thing with huge pockets around her waist for her notepad.

He took the tie from her and helped her with it, not trusting her to do it herself. Harlen didn't hate August. He just thought she was more trouble then she was worth. The only reason she hadn't been fired was actually Akahi. Aki did a lot of things for August, and sometimes she felt bad for taking advantage of such a big-bellied sweet guy, but August was a Hunter, and that's what Hunters do. "Your friend's here." Harlen tried to say as casually as possible, but August was already excited. "That's what it was!" It explained the slow day, and her odd feeling. August was almost out to door. "Where do ya think you're goin'??" August's smile flickered a bit. "..I'm going to go see him..?" Harlen was so strict. He liked being the boss, and he loved the rules. He use to be a street rat back in New York, so now that the owner of the restaurant gave him a second chance at a good life, Harlen felt indebted to him. Harlen grabbed at August's upturned collar, practically choking her. Akahi gave Harlen a warning look, and Harlen let go. He started to fix August's collar. "No, ya don't. He ain't at your table. He's never at your table." Batman, as August had named him, always sat at Rachel's table, but August always stole him away. Rachel would complain to Harlen, but the best Harlen could do was give Rachel one of August's table. Maybe it was unfair to Rachel, but August didn't really care. Rachel was sort of mean. Harlen gave August two plates for one of her tables. "Now take this to your table, and I swear if you break another plate, I will have your job." August and Harlen both know that wasn't true, but it was Harlen's way of warning her that he was serious.

August faked a grumble and a glare before getting out of the kitchen and away from Harlen. She didn't really intend to serve her own tables. She was going after Rachel's. August tried to remember which table ordered the plates in her hands, but she kept looking over to Batman's booth in the corner. Her ADD wasn't making it any easier. I'll just.. August figured if she got a glimpse of Batman, it'd make it easier to concentrate on the plates, since her Batman interest would have been slightly quenched. For a second, August thought there was a mirror next to him, but there weren't any mirrors in the restaurant. Her eyebrows drew together in a furrowed line. Suddenly she got it. The plates in her hand dropped with a clatter, and she heard Harlen shout her name from the kitchen, but she had more important things to deal with. August walked swiftly to Batman's table, and slid into the booth next to her double. This was why her parents hadn't looked for her. This girl in front of her was the reason her parents never made an effort to get August to return back to Iceland. They didn't even know she left. A Changeling took her place. Sometimes August felt like her parents didn't care enough to look for her, and that made her mad. She wasn't mad at her parents anymore. She was mad at her Changeling. All the bitterness she'd felt was mustered into one little sentence, four tiny words."You stole my face."

[Waddle]

Journey thumped after him in her boots, having to half jog to keep up. He seemed suddenly... tense. Scared, even. What was wrong? The redhead began to wonder if this was the best place to have brought her new friend. Iggy... The name embedded itself in her mind, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not shake it loose. She had heard his small grumble before they entered the Rose. Maybe he had recognized the place by the smell of the food, or the sound of a familiar voice of someone who worked there? Maybe he didn't like this place? Suppose someone here didn't like him. What if someone who hated Ichabod decided to try and make him look a fool in front of the girl he was with? Then they'll have their ass kicked.[/color] It was as simple as that in her mind. Anyone who messed with her friends got hurt. Anyone who messed with Iggy was going to get really hurt. For a quick second, she couldn't decide whether she was more protective of him because he was blind or because... Well, what other option was there? There wasn't one she could find, but she knew it was there. Hiding. Waiting.

Iggy sat down like he knew where he had been going this whole time - Like he's been here a lot. Journey sat down on the bench across from him and slid over to the wall, put her forearms on the table and leaned on them, watching Iggy. She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked into his sightless eyes. The thought of it being rude never occurred to her. Not until a minute later when a girl came and gave them their menus. Journey smiled politely, even though the girl, woman, rather, looked down at her with such a disapproving stare that Journey wanted to, instead, demand 'WHAT?!'. She refrained from it and just smiled as the woman glared down a sharp, almost hooked nose. As the woman was walking away, stiff backed, and Journey was opening the menu - she noticed that she did not hand Ichabod one - she looked down at clothing. All seemed in order - plain t-shirt and dirty blue jeans, boots and a backwards-facing baseball cap. Then she noticed she had tracked in mud that was now black smudges on the milky white tile of the Rose's floor.

She shrugged and made a mental note to wipe off her feet next time she came in.

Looking down at the menu, she felt her eyes go a little wide. Out of habit, she pulled the wallet out of her back pocket and checked how much money she had. Not much, and she needed that for necessities - food mainly. Used to be food and gas. Now it's food and rent. 'Cause now, you walk to the store. That truck hasn't moved for two weeks now. Okay... That was exaggerating it a bit. A week. A week it had sat in the parking lot of the apartment building. Journey had always walked everywhere. She wasn't used to such a small town. Sure, she'd grown up in a small town... But it appeared that small town USA and small town Canada were two different sizes.

Back to the subject.

She had cash enough for this place. It was just that she didn't want to spend it.

But she wasn't going to tell Iggy that.

No way in hell.

She decided then that if he offered to pay for her meal, she would make him take half of her cost. If he didn't, ah well. It was all worth it. She wasn't broke. Money was just... short. At least she had a job.

"What're you--" Journey was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering on tile. She looked up and around, tensing instantly, almost prepared to lung into a fist fight. She noticed a waitress staring right at her - and that it was her own face. What the bloody fu-[/color] The waitress... walked over and sat down beside Journey, still staring at her face.

"You stole my face."

Journey's eyebrows lifted. "Your face?"[/color] she demanded in a normal tone. She suddenly couldn't hold back a bit of laughter. This is the girl the lion told me about... It had warned of meeting a new family member. It had told her. And she had just put it aside as nothing. She began to laugh. "How do you know I wasn't born first?" She regained control of herself, then noticed how close the girl was sitting and scooted towards the wall, twisting in her seat to keep eye contact with her twin. They were almost identical - the only difference was their hair cut and clothing. Their hair was similar, but the other girl's was somewhat shorter. Journey remembered where she was and quickly stuck out her hand in the small space between them. "Hatami Journey Willows. Journey, preferably."[/color]

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Iggy. "And this is Ichabod Hallows. Iggy..."[/color] She trailed off uncertainly. How could she explain in public that she'd just met her twin?

Her head was beginning to hurt.[/size]

[Augustus is a SWOObat]

Ichabod wasn't stupid. He could piece it together just by the conversation, though it seemed practically impossible. It started to make sense though. It explained why Smelly acted like he knew Journey, but something didn't make sense. Noatak was about as small as it could get. How could Journey not notice her double? At the mention of Changelings, Ichabod let out a laugh. Changelings were big in Europe, but he didn't know that America was very aware of them. Ichabod thoughts halted. He just assumed August had lived in a America, like Journey, but he realized that that probably wasn't the case. He didn't know if August wanted to shake hands. Actually, he didn't care. Iggy leaned over and touched both their faces gently. It was the oddest thing, like touching a mirror without being hindered by the glass.

August didn't even glance at her Changeling's friend, and didn't react to his touch. He could be a Changeling too, for all she knew. He laughed when she mentioned it, but August didn't think it was funny. "You were born first." Changeling Journey was just pretending to be dumb, to throw August off. Journey had probably waited years for her turn to steal away a child and return to a human family. A little pity for Journey and the family she was stolen away from pricked August in her little human heart, but Journey chose to do the same. August looked down at the hand, and her anger ebbed. A frown came across her face. Something didn't seem right. Journey acted too human.. Changelings had extensive vocabularies and there was always a way to tell a Changeling from a human, and Journey was so human. So she had never been replaced. Her parents had never bothered to look for her, and they didn't have Journey as an excuse. August had been staring at her twins hand, but hadn't made a move to grab it. She was always unconsciously looking for family, so why couldn't she accept blood family when it presented itself to her??

Harlin stormed up angerly. Akahi was glaring at him with a warning signal. August broke those plates on his last nerve. He grabbed the back of Auggie's collar and pulled her off the booth seat. She landed on her rump, looking slightly stunned. Aki was shouting for Harlin to watch himself. Only then did Harlin stop his rant on plates, last straws, and luck running out to look up briefly. It seemed like all the blood drained from his face. "Oh God.. There's two of them!" He shrieked it out, sounding as if he had married Despair. Akahi squinted from his position in the kitchen and squealed in delight. "There's two?!" Harlin muttered something about having to sit down and just left. August leaned over and took Journey's hand. Maybe it was lame, but she really didn't know what else to say. "Um. August Frost. Nice to meet you."

[Waddle]

Journey glanced at Iggy, but her eyes flicked back to her twin at the comment she made. What did she mean? Did she know more about them than Journey did? It was possible. Maybe this girl had been raised by their real parents, not sent away. How could a parent decide which twin to keep? How could anyone make a decision like that? It was harsh and cold, and it made anger stir deep in her heart. August was so sure... A flash of rage lit in Journey, and she almost snapped something at the girl, but stopped herself as a man came to stand behind the girl, grabbed her collar and dragged her off the seat.

Journey jumped to her feet to stand in the seat, glaring at the man, her mouth open. Then he cried out about 'there being two of them,' and fled. Excited shouting drifted out from the kitchen. Journey, noticing people staring, fell to her knees in the seat, extending a hand to her sister. "I dunno if it's good to meet you, yet, but c'mon. Take a seat."[/b] Journey pulled the girl back up beside her while she, herself, righted her position, putting her feet back on the floor and facing Iggy. "I'm so confused."[/b] She hissed a sigh into her teeth, held it, then let it hiss back out. "You're my sister. My twin. I'm not some face-stealer or whatever you said."[/b] She paused, turned her black baseball cap to where it faced backwards, propped her chin in her hand and her elbow on the table, then continued. "And what did you mean, 'You stole my face' ?"[/b] Her head was really hurting.

She noticed something about her twin. They were almost exactly alike, but Journey saw that August was incredibly thin. Is she anorexic?[/i] That was something that was different between them. Journey wasn't chubby, she was muscular. August was... just thin. Too thin.


Ryan Sean was not happy. He was hardly ever happy, but he was even less happy when he came back to his apartment to find the remnant of French fries taped to his wall and ants crawling all around them. He knew who had done it. He knew where she would be at this time. Not that he stalked her. She was just one of the few people he ever cared to get to know that wasn't a deader or target. She was August Frost. And she was not going to get away with this one.

Ryan hated his apartment messy. With ants in there, it was more than messy. It was infested. Ryan hadn't been in his apartment in four days - he'd been away tracking and ending a deader. It had been easy. It had just taken a while because he had to be extra careful with this one.

Pushing open the Rose's door, his light green eyes scanned the room without ever lifting his head. He spotted her immediately, sitting in a booth. Beside someone who looked exactly like her.

Ryan's eyes went wide with surprise. There were two of them?! Maybe he should turn now, maybe he was imagining this. Yes, he was seeing things. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen doubles of someone or even himself. Yes, he was safe. One was dressed in simple clothes, the other in the Rose's dress code. Striding over, Ryan tapped the one in the dress code, then took her firmly by the shoulder and pulled her off the seat. "We need to talk."[/b] He hardly gave her the chance to steady herself before pushing her in front of him towards the door.

"Leave her alone, bastard!"[/b]

Something heavy and hard connected with the back of Ryan's head, just above the base of his skull. Lights flashed in front of his eyes and he stumbled, almost falling. But his right hand came up instinctively and his elbow caught the redhead who had punched him on the cheek, sending her sprawling across the table into the lap of the other man. So she wasn't an imagination after all.

He had let go of August and now looked between the two of them. There was no difference he could see off the bat. The one who had punched him was already climbing to her feet, fists raised, ready to fight. A foolish girl. Didn't she know not to mess with the big cats when she was still a little kitten? Ryan considered drawing his gun and aiming it at her, but decided against it. He had already made enough of a scene. People were shouting; someone grabbed Ryan's arm and yanked him roughly away from the table.

The gun did flash out then, and the barrel was pressed exactly to the temple of the man who had his arm. The man's eyes were wide as Ryan snarled, loudly enough to be heard around the room. "I will blow the brains out of anyone who touches me again. Anyone so much as makes a move toward a phone to call 911 will be dead. No one's going to get hurt unless they do one of those two things."[/b] With the last word, he shoved he man away, and the gun slipped into its holster at his hip and was quickly covered by the trench coat as he drew it around himself and turned back to August, his mouth open in preparation to tell her off for taping French fries to his wall.

[/size]