Looking down into her small cup of ice cream, Katarina proceeded to absently press the back of her plastic spoon into it for a softer consistency. The sun was nearly faded now, leaving a stream of varying blues in its path. The crisp air felt cool against her exposed arms in exchange for their natural flush.

Katarina seemed completely comfortable to be in her red and brown striped dress while most other people outside of the ice cream parlor were dressed in their usual day wear. The street lights glowed and added warmth to her hair that was cleverly braided and curled away from her face, a deep red flower tucked in the back from the bouquet she had received from Locke just twp night before.

"Yanno, I dun 'member th' las' time I had ice cream. This was a good idea." She shot him a grin, continuing to mix the contents inside of the bowl.

He had almost ordered a cone, but the fact that Katarina had ordered hers in a cup led him to do the same. He glanced into the dish, the strawberry ice cream within having melted just a little, then looked back up at her, nodding. "There was some sort of ice cream social that was held a few months earlier, but I was unfortunately unable to attend. I suppose this is my consolation prize for that." He lifted the spoon up just a little to point at her, hands clothed in white cotton dress gloves that were lighter than the usual black leather ones he donned. Unlike earlier in the week, he had made some small concessions to conservative fashion, choosing a black suitcoat and slack, as well as a white tuxedo shirt. No bow tie hung around his unbuttoned collar, though, just a white pocket square in the breast pocket of the coat. And rather than spiking his hair up, as was his usual wont, he had tousled it into something that was perhaps best described as meticulously messy. No earrings either, though the cuffs of his shirt were adorned with silver snowflake cufflinks.

Once she was satisfied that she made more of a thick ice cream soup, the vanilla ice cream with chocolate chips was finally tasted. "I dun 'member hearin' 'bout tha' one. Though, 'm sure th' theatre ain't exactly promotin' us ta eat it either." Her smile became just a touch more impish. "An' there weren' really ice cream places like this on Hope - where I grew up." She wasn't sure how much of Johnny's background he knew, so she added that last just in case.

His eyes half-shut for a bit, deep in thought. "It was...sometime in June. I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it was that I was doing that day." A quick shake of the head, as his cobalt eyes opened wider. "There is nothing wrong with anything, be it ice cream or what have you, in moderation. But I have a rather limited diet, so it is far easier for me to stay away from some of the foods that trip some blokes and birds up." What he knew about Hope was very little - just the fact that Johnny (and his family) had come from there, and that it was another planet, as opposed to another world in the multiverse. "No ice cream on Hope? What was there to nosh on when you had a sweet tooth?"

"Moderation has a whole otha meanin' when yer income is based on whatcha look like." She took another bite, savory the slightly melted texture. Crossing her leg under the table, she shrugged slightly, "Sometimes mah Ma er Jo's would make ice cream, er cookies er somethin' else. But I didn' really hav' many sweets cause o' dancin'." Another shrug, "So, ya kin't eat certain things?" Spiking her curiosity, she looked to him, "Wha' kin't ya hav'?"

He dipped his spoon in for a bite, then gestured somewhere in the vicinity of the nuts, berries, and candies that served as toppings. "No hot fudge or caramel for starters. Essentially, anything that is warmer than, say, 40-45 Farenheit will dole out some serious damage to my body. It practically makes me a vegetarian, half the bloody time."

She pursues her lips in thought, thinking of just what was that cold that was eaten on a regular basis. "An' i's always been like tha'? All yer family kin't eat those things?" In truth, she knew very little about what he was, save the fact that he was cold and had unusual coloring. It brought a ghost smile in thought of her first encounter, which included several caught stares.

He glanced down at his right hand for a second, twisting it just a bit as if examining it. "Not always, and my mum has looked like your average, garden variety elf since I was three. Or that is to say, she doesn't have blue skin." He started to mutter a bit. "I suppose there really is nothing average and garden-variety about much of anything here." He cleared his throat briefly before continuing. "It is something of a complicated and detailed story, but I can give you the abridged version if you would like?" His lips curled into a smile that was just slightly forced.

She thought about it, using the time to take a few more bites of the cold treat. It was not hard for Katarina to catch the slightly forced look behind the smile, after seeing several natural and easy ones. "Nah, i's okay. Kin't know everythin' 'bout'cha 'n jist one nigh'. Well, two if ya count Friday, bu' 'm gonna say tha' dun count." She grinned and winked then.

The air seemed to clear a little, as he winked and grinned in return. "That isn't to say that I am hiding anything particularly dark and evil in my past. I'm an open book about most of it, and I will tell you flat out if you ask me about something I cannot tell you about. The closet is mostly barren of skeletons, savvy?" He started to tuck into the dish of ice cream with earnest, seemingly immune to the dreaded "ice-cream headache." "But what of your past, Katarina? I believe that I only possess the barest of details, which I'm afraid leaves me at something of a disadvantage."