The shop's inventory wins his attention in the split second he does not see the turquoise wink of her hair. She'd mentioned that Midnight Oils sold paper, special inks, writing implements and everything in between, but he isn't prepared, fully, for what he sees. He's starting to smile even before he finds her. She helps when she look up, launches into a reflex greeting, then calls his name. He turns toward it, toward her, heading to intercept her halfway. He passes the take-out bag from his right hand to his left. "Tanya." Raises his arm in invitation, request, for the hug he had been unable to give her the last time they'd seen each other. Looped around her neck, tight around the shoulders, and sincere.

Friendly hugs were best hugs, as far as she was concerned. The store stocked everything from glass-tipped goose quills to stainless-steel write anywhere pens, college-ruled notebook filler to vellum and papyrus, and just about anything in between, yes. And for what they didn't, there was always special order.

Bending to make the hug easier, she straightened, giving the small bag a hairy eyeball. ?Yanno, that doesn't look like enough for two, even for Leung?s portions. Tell me you aren't just gonna sit here and watch me eat, please? Think we both had enough of that already, yeah??. The easy smile came quickly, brightening an already pretty face. No more zombie shadows here, sho 'nuff.

He'd forgotten how tall she really was. His chin bumps her shoulder when they meet. He grins for it, however brief, and doesn't let it linger too long. "Of course not. Merely, I just neglected to go overboard," beginning to withdraw. "You're well?"

?Oh yeah, I'm good. Jaycy and her husband Psly, they've been real nice." Nice didn't precisely cover all of it, but this was simple lunch conversation. When the bag got set on the counter, she reached down underneath, tapping a button in an oddly not-random sequence, then pulling out a smallish square of cloth to help protect the wood. Old-timey style meant keeping stains off the counter was a crucial element. "She goes around the Inn sometimes ... maybe you've met her?"

He follows her to the counter, the prick of a thought at the back of his mind that hoped she wouldn't somehow get reprimanded for a Chinese break on the sales floor. "I do not recognize the name, but that doesn't mean we've not crossed paths at some point."

"You'd definitely recognize her. She's a little over five feet, red hair usually in a ponytail, and she's usually got a glove on her arm up to the elbow. Lots of scars, I don't know why though." The way she was setting things up, with the ease of familiarity, this was a common enough occurrence. "And usually, on her way to the Arena thing downstairs. I think she goes there to work out or something."

He spreads the bag at the top with both hands. All the details Tanya lays down do little to set Jaycy apart from the myriad of other women in town. Tough, scarred, prefers to fight. "I shall keep a look out."

That scent. Just the aroma of Leung's made her smile fondly. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it. So ... how have you been lately?" Chopsticks. She's been practicing, thankfully. Not so fumble-fingered with them anymore. They didn't have tea here, but a quick turn to the hidden mini-fridge brought up a couple chilled bottles of water to drink.

The flare of color in her cheeks is peculiar enough to raise one dark brow. "Neither, and thank the Angel that's the case for the second. My death was, as most are, untimely and unwanted. Brought about by the abuse of power and permission that, at the time, I did not know I'd given." He scratches the center of his brow. "For slightly longer than two months afterward, my soul was in the possession of a demon. But......" pulling his hand down his face, "......I've somehow, also, acquired an impressively stubborn group of friends that didn?t see fit to leave me behind."

"Well, yeah ... you're a good guy, and good people tend to make lasting impressions on other good people like that. Okay, so ... a demon had your soul, and these other friends rallied up and brought you back?" 'Lifestyles of the Young and Enchanted' had nothing on how enthralled she was to this particular story. Seriously, this was like having an interview with Sam, Dean, and Castiel, all at the same ******* time! Ahem, ahrm, not that she, yanno, watched that show, or anything ... Guilty pleasure, table for one?

He bows his head, nodding. "To make an incredibly long story short, yes, they did. However, during my----stay there, my soul was altered by the very hand that put me there. When I rose, this alteration manifested in a deluge of divine energy. Much more than what I or my people are supposed to possess, and its continuation became a serious, ironically life threatening problem."

"Soooooo ... Samsung battery plugged in too long go boom?" Ayup. Mistress of simplification, right here. She should put that on her resume sometime. "I'm gathering you've kinda got a handle on that, since you're here drinking soup and all. How'd you do it?" Rice. That was always a tricky thing with chopsticks ... At least, tricky to appear at least a little bit dainty and not at all like one's trying to shovel food into one's facehole.
Glad for it, so says the half wing of a smile on his mouth. He reaches for one of the water bottles she'd set out. "I didn't, actually. I, merely, needed to be strong enough to survive the trial of it. I pulled through it only for the aid and knowledge of two people very dear to me and the working of a few powerful spells."

"So you're a bigger battery now? I mean ... you've still got all that divine energy stuff in you? Sorry ... metaphysics didn't interest me much in school." Neither had calculus, trigonometry, geology ... or, for that matter, school. "Sounds kinda, well ... dangerous."

"In a sense.....yes. The first working was meant to contain that spill long enough for my body to heal 'round it. It was continuously ripping its way free of me, at the time, stealing what little energy I possessed after my time below."

"And the second?" Tanya, unashamedly, watched a staggering amount of television in her off hours. Like, mind-boggling, really. It's a wonder she's not a gazillion pounds and pale as a sheet. Or maybe it's all that jogging she does ... but the scenario did sound half-way familiar. She was not, however, about to suggest finding some Kage master to put a seven circle seal up on his stomach or anything. There were limits ...

"Much less pronounced in necessary effort, but still necessary; a series of small workings meant to keep my body from burning from the inside out while that initial spillage of energy took shape. It finished doing so some two weeks ago now."

"I think your inner cynic is showing, Cris. People have been known to lead perfectly normal, even boring lives without anything truly epic crashing down on them ... " Okay, so not anyone she knew, but still! It's happened! Somewhere ...

Snort, "It's been a long year."

"Thank you, Captain Understatement." Dryly, she stuck her tongue out at him, then took another bite of food. Not much left, by now. "And speaking of, I guess I've been one of those perfectly normal, boring people. Up until a couple months ago, anyways. I didn't really go out, didn't get trashed, or anything like that ... and I definitely didn't make any flashy comebacks ... I feel kinda plain jane right now."

Slight smile. He swallows down another gulp of water, capping the bottle. "Normal and boring are relative. I, for one, am glad for how my second life has been settling down around me. I do not think plain jane is the right term for it."

"Plain jane, Boring Betty, whatever you wanna call it. My Netflix game is pretty strong now, though." It's funny, but him using the term 'second life' gets him a serious, contemplative sort of look. Go figure that someone part angel might inspire serious introspective thinking. "Not that I'm trying to chase you outta here or anything, but you mentioned a project?"

?I was thinking more.......Fortunate..." frowning, briefly, as he thinks, "Frieda." And pulls a face for the terrible selection. He's glad she changes the subject. Sets the bottle down, somewhat away from him. "Yes," with a nod. "When you spoke of this place, you mentioned special properties of some of the merchandise you sold. Inks, I believe, yes? What of the paper itself?"

"The paper? Huh. Well, we got your usual, run of the mill stuff ... " No pun intended, really. "And there's been customers who have ordered things like papyrus, or vellum, even rice paper, though I don't think they were gonna write on that. What kind of paper were you looking for?" Fortunate Frieda. Wow. That one's getting written down, somewhere.

He nods, "The material is of no consequence.....in that, it does not matter what it is, only that it's durable. Have you any recent customers looking to purchase either special paper to bear the strength of what is written, or ink of the same sort of property?"

"Bear the strength of what was written? That sounds ominously creepy ... and really, if I didn't already know stuff about how ink can hold magic, I'd be looking at you pretty queer right about now. Come to think of it, there's been a couple of regulars who buy their stuff with that in mind. But, they inscribe scrolls all the time, and sell them. Is that kind of what you were thinking of?" Tanya pulled a large tablet out from under the counter, turning it on and waiting for it to boot up. Cris didn't know, and probably didn't need to know, just how difficult it had been to get this bit of technology into the store Jaycy liked her old-world tech ...

"What I'm looking for is more a tool for recreational use. A journal, primarily. Whose pages will be durable enough to survive inscriptions, or----an ink that will contain the power in the written word. Either way, I am looking to purchase both. The blank book, and a writing implement to go along with it."

?Okay ? ? Tanya chewed thoughtfully, letting her eyes drift over the various goods on the shelves, ?so. Special ink means a quill-style pen, or maybe a fountain-style ? something with powdered crystal, maybe ? ? There went her mind, off to the races. Taking another quick bite, she slipped out from behind the counter like a woman on a mission, eventually coming back with a few items in hand. ?Okay, see if this suits, yeah? Leather bound, heavy-weight vellum. Just about as strong as the paper they use for currency in some places. Montegrappa Fortuna copper fountain pen ? copper and silver are both good for conducting and channeling energy. Aaaaand this ink, here. It?s something the mages really like, it?s got powdered quartz in it as a secondary component, and they say it really makes their scrolls pop. These sound alright??

"Yeaaahhhh ... yeah, it is. I remember that one, too. It was one of my first buying trips for the shop. I guess the guy who wanted it changed his mind. It's been here over a year now, I think. You want that one?" Already, she was reaching for a suitable box. She knew how guys could be. When they didn't care for shopping, quick and decisive were the words that came to mind.

It helps, too, that he'd already had a suitable vessel in mind. He nods, pulling back from the display. That was one of three items. "You're certain you do not have any customers visit you regarding items they might use for magical inscription? Perhaps the sealing of something, or paper meant to withstand the acidic blood ink of some------some revolting creature."

"Oh I'm pretty certain we do. I'd even go as far as to say most ... liiiiike, here. See this here?" She side-stepped to the thick journal she'd set out before, slowly opening the cover, and rubbing forefinger and thumb on the corner of one page. "There's a couple magic types I know who use these kinds of journals for portable spellbooks, when they don't want to haul around those super-massive tomes ... "

He joins her, reaches to touch the stack of pages attached to the journal's binding. Waits for Tanya's hand to move before he closes the cover to inspect it. The wrinkled, treated leather resembles driftwood and holds a faintly olive green hue. It, like the pen, is simple, yet elegant in a way. "Have you heard anything negative about them?"

"Only that it takes forever to get them, and we can't get more than a box at a time. It's all hand-made, no heavy manufacturing or anything." She shrugged, a slight smile curling her mouth. "There's one guy, comes in twice a year. Picks up a book, a platinum-barreled pen, and like six bottles of ink with manticore venom. I don't ask why."

"What is it, exactly, that the manticore venom does?" he asks, tapping the book with his hand, indicating that she add it to his purchase.

Nodding, she slid the journal over near the pen. "He says it's to keep people from prying into his private writing. The stuff stays toxic, even when it's dry. It's like a slow-acting contact poison, causes paralysis. Seems kinda paranoid and dangerous to me, but hey, it's his ass."

He blinks, raising his eyebrows, "Why write them at all, then?" dubious, though his relationship with any sort of personal communication is terrible at best. Giving life to his thoughts through pen and ink did not appeal to him at all. "Have you any other unique inks?"

?I guess because he doesn't trust his memory. Like I said, I don't ask why." She nodded, then. "I've got that sparkly stuff, but you said you didn't want that ... oh, hey! I've got this other ink ... you said you needed something that could bear the strength ... this stuff is supposed to be seriously durable. Like, don't ever spill it on your clothes or it's there forever durable. How's that?"

"I suppose I could test it, yes? Have you a sheet of this paper on its own?" touching the blank journal to indicate.

"Yeah, we keep some around for the scroll-writing kids." In just a moment, she had a couple sheets, a bottle of the ink, and a plain glass pen sitting there on the counter. "Just don't use that divine power stuff and blow up the shop, okay? My boss would totally have my ass ... "

Chuckling, he moves to join her at the counter. Takes care when he picks up the pen, dips it into the ink so it catches enough to be of use. The rune he draws matches the one riding his left bicep. An asymmetrical diamond with two, hook shaped wings. The image gleams strong and solid. He waits for any negative report from the ink, or the paper.

He snorts against the soup cup, puts his hand up to stay any further questioning. "Before we get too far.... We are not seeing each other, at all. She is......a very close friend of mine." His thumb runs along the lip of the cup. "Half the reason I stand before you now. She's saved my life more than I'd like to admit."

"Okay, okay ... damn, I thought she was the one you were seeing before. Okay, so she's your friend ... this for her birthday, then?" Obviously, she is less than clever when it comes to fishing for personal information.

Likely, she gets away with it only because it had been some time since they'd seen each other, and he'd resigned himself already to answering her questions as best he could. He shakes his head, "No."

Snort. ?Yanno, I keep forgetting just how bountiful a fountain of information you are.? Teasing, obviously, as she stuck out the tip of her tongue at him. Then, to forestall any more of that tactfully mature behavior - note the narrator?s sarcasm spike - Tanya speared up the last potsticker and got to chewing. It?s still lurking, going by the slight shaking of her shoulders.

Cris busies his smile by finishing what?s left of his soup. It takes more than one drink, but those seconds are precious. ?I merely wish to do something for her. Something beyond a mere meal or trinket that she may acquire of her own volition. She has done a great deal for me, without my ever asking her to. Three times as much when I must,? slight smile. He looks up. ?Something she?ll remember, yes??

?I'm pretty sure she'll remember this, alright.? There's a glimmer of something, there in her eyes. Thoughtful. Introspective. And damned near too quick to see. Food for thought. ?I'll keep her on the list, then ? oh, and here. Check it out, isn't this sweet? I got cards, now.? A bit of pardonable pride, perhaps. ?She can call just about anytime, whenever she needs a restock.?

Damned near too quick to see, and Cris does not look for it. Instead, he takes the business card she offers, reading it in a glance. He nods. ?I will be sure to give this to her too, thank you.?

A thousand witty retorts flashed like quicksilver lightning through Tanya?s eyes, but in the end, she settled on simple as the best option. ?Hey, what are friends for, yeah?? Already, her thoughts were swirling around a few choice ideas. That tablet of hers, hidden under the counter, was about to get a serious searching workout.

Snorting, he pockets the card with a single nod. Then gestures to the spread of Chinese food on her counter, ?Would you like to keep any of this??

?Huh? Oh, nah ? ? There?d been a thought doing a little distracting, that much was obvious. ?If the boss lady comes in, she?ll want to eat out here. Much as she?s super cool, I kinda think her food choices are ? well, squicky.? Tanya winced, visibly. There?s a story there, that?s for sure. ?Best to let her think I took care of everything lunch-wise while she was out.?

One dark brow arches. He mouths the word squicky, curtails a smile before it gets too far. "I see." But it gets him to start the task of packing away what had not been consumed.

Quietly thankful that he didn?t ask for further details, Tanya smiled the grin that Cris denied himself, and eased back behind the counter. Inventory details and all that. ?You?ll let me know how she likes it, won?t you??

He'd never been one to pry too far without necessary reasoning. As he packs, he takes note that it's mostly his share of the food that he's bringing back with him. It had been years, certainly she'd regained her appetite by now, but he's glad to bear witness to it. "I will, yes. Thank you, Tanya." Plastic bag loops tied down over open paper for security. He wipes his hands on his gear.

Truth be told, quite a few of her appetites had made a full recovery. Some, Cris had absolutely no reason to know about. But some ? She finished jotting something down in in the ledger, then looked up with a quirked brow. ?Mind stepping outside with me? Jaycy doesn?t really mind, but I don?t like smoking in here. Books, yanno, they soak up all sorts of bad smells if you aren?t careful.?

"Of course not." He takes care with the parcel she had wrapped for him. Hooks the tied off loops of the take-out bag on the fingers of his other hand, prepared to follow her lead.

Picking up a small pouch-like bag from under the counter, she led the way out the door, and just off to the side of the building, where a small planter-pot filled with sand and no few stubbed out butts sat on the ground. Break time. Taking up a lean on the building where she could keep an eye on the door, Tanya slipped a cigarette from the pouch and lit it, taking in a deep draw, and making sure to hold it downwind of Cris. After all, he?d quit. At least, that?s what she remembered.

He had quit enough but recent events had rekindled the stubborn habit he'd started to think was immortal. But he does not ask for a cigarette. He tucks the parcel up safe against his chest, looks up at the sky now that he can. "We should do this again soon. Now that I know where you are."

?Damn skippy ? ? She blew out another plume, answering his question more with a smile than with words. ?I?ve missed you, ya big galoot.? Friends were a precious commodity in her world, and while she was growing richer in that regard, she?d never get into the habit of discarding them recklessly. ?But next time, I?m buying. Kay??

"Galoot," skeptic, around a quiet chuckle. It brings his gaze down from the half cloud cover above them, half of his mouth turned up. "Technically, you bought this." The shift of his left arm indicates the parcel she'd wrapped.

?I mean, next time I?m taking you to lunch. The boss is pretty relaxed about that sort of thing, like I said before.? She waved it off, one eye on the few passers-by to make sure no one slipped into the store without her noticing. Doing the verbal dance around the elephant in the room was more than a little daunting, sometimes. ?And hey, maybe next time, I?ll be able to introduce you. And maybe to Psly, too. From what Jaycy says, he?s got some kind of bike-making business. Remember my scooter? He designed it, no lie. You should see hers!?

Just like he'd never been one to pry, he could rarely match his friends' levels of enthusiasm over any given topic that did not touch upon weaponry. His half smile lingers, pleased for the positive turn her life has taken. For the color in her cheeks, and the light in her eyes. Two things she'd been sorely lacking the last time they'd spoken. "Perhaps you will," he says with a nod.

Stubbing out her cigarette in the sand, Tanya sent up a wink at Cris. ?Maybe I will. Maybe I will at that. You taking off, then?? Just a simple question. After all, she didn?t want to take up all of his time. And he had a present to deliver!

It occurs to him that bringing the parcel and take-out of the shop with him suggests he's ready to leave. He looks down at both the burdens in his hands. "I haven't exactly anywhere pressing to be. Now that I have objects in hand, I can find a suitable vessel for them, but that will take some time. I can stay, if you'd like."

?I wouldn?t say no to the company, at least not until later. When it gets busy, I mean.? Now that she?d finished her ?break?, Tanya slipped past him to ease back through the door, trying to make the bell jingle as little as possible. It was mainly there for her benefit, anyways. ?Pull up a stool and relax, sheesh!? Yes, she knew it was a futile request, but she made it all the same.

Snorting, he shakes his head. Rolls his eyes, and turns to follow her back into the shop they?d just exited.