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The day had been too nice to remain inside so Quinn decided to take Isis out for a walk, something he was now regretting as he was being tugged along after the giant savannah cat as she chased a squirrel. "Isis stop!" Unlike a dog, Isis didn't particularly listen to any commands and just continued along her way tugging her poor owner along behind like dead weight.

Quinn nearly had his arm torn off as the squirrel and the pursuing cat scrambled under a wrought iron bench. Quinn crashed into it and the leash slipped out of his grasp as a curse was forced from his lungs. He was thinking bloody murder as he quickly untangled himself and went limping after the duo, his heart nearly stopping as the two race across the street heading towards a cafe and the artist situated out in front of it.

The squirrel ran between the easel legs with the cat following sending everything flying. The gray fur ball escaped when the loose leash handle got caught on the cafe's wrought iron filigree railing leaving Isis straining after her prey as her harness and leash held her securely.

Quinn had seen everything, he just wasn't fast enough prevent it. He came stumbling up just as sidewalk artiest was untangling his cat. Rubbing his sore stomach Quinn made a face. "One who knows that leaving her roam by herself would result in even further damage." Just the idea of letting her off the leash while outside had him wincing at the thought of the trouble she would get into. Since the unfortunate fellow seemed to have Isis in hand Quinn set to work picking up the scattered supplies.

Isis merowed plaintively as she pulled against her tether, her prey was getting away. The voice behind her had her looking over her shoulder at him and meow loudly, as if to tell this human to hurry up.

Quinn glanced up as he was straightening the various materials. "What ever you do don't let her go! Once the leash is free she will try to yank it from your grasp." That little furball had all the intelligence of a cat and the strength of a dog. Basically one smart kitty.

Isis yowled at the indignity of being picked up by her scruff. She glared at the human that had her in his grasp and it seemed that for a few seconds she truly contemplated using her claws to show her displeasure. With her tail whipping in annoyance, an audible wapping sound clear as it thwacked her captor in the legs. She wiggled and squirmed in the arms of the boy, her claws safely sheathed.

Quinn finished stacking everything including the various charcoal pencils he took a few glances at the sketches and was a bit surprised by the skill on what was obviously quickly done. "What?" He glanced up and nodded. "Yeah, Isis there gets a bit wound up inside all day so a walk helps." He stood and held his hand out for her leash adding, "you might want to put her down, right now she is being nice... Too much longer and she will start clawing." It was a valid warning and Quinn had some claw scars to show for it.... Most of them were faded and from when Isis was a kitten but he had some newer ones from when she was startled, scared, or mad.

"Don't suppose I could get you coffee or lunch for the trouble the furball caused you?" He nodded towards the cafe. Quinn was starting to get hungry and he did owe the artist something for the damage done, might as well kill two birds with one stone.... Or a squirrel he mentally added with dislike for the little gray fluffy tailed rat that got him in this mess.

Quinn nodded in thanks as he accepted Isis and her leash. The cat was placed on the ground where she decided to wind around his legs, while her leash was securely held in his hand. Quinn winced as he saw the damage once again as Mathias packed up his stuff. "Guess not having a permit is a pain. Can't pull the 'just sketching for myself' excuse?" He asked curiously as he waved down the hostess and requested one of the tables just inside of the fence.

It didn't take long for a table to be cleaned and set up for use. He secured Isis to the fence where she apparently decided to take a nap. The large cat curled up on the cement and basked in the sunlight, her earlier chase completely forgotten.

Quinn smiled and gestured to the table. "Quinn... Arthur Quinton but everyone just calls me Quinn." Hopefully lunch would make up for the lost supplies and custom. "Your work is pretty good. Guess you weren't doing too bad, at least until Isis decided to intervene." The smile was apologetic, he really did hope he didn't really just ruin Mathias' day.

"Makes sense." Can't prove what you didn't see. Quinn has had a few of those type of run in himself but they tended to follow the breaking and entering spectrum of police shenanigans. "Might be worth getting one just to mess with the cops though." He snickered as he thought of the look on a cops face when he tried to bust Mathias only to find out he was in the straight.

The waiter stopped by and took the drink orders while Mathias got settled and Quinn contemplated his offer. His mom might like some family portraits done but he hesitated, something like that wasn't exactly his taste but his mom on the other hand... Quinn nodded reluctantly. "If anything I can pass it of to my folks. My mom is always looking into things like this."

"So," he decided to change the topic. "You in college or just making your way in the world?" Mathias seemed to be around his age so it was entirely possible he was in college then again a lot of people didn't go.

"I'm working towards a degree in architecture myself." Quinn answered Mathias' question, mentally wincing at the cost of the lunch. He hated to use the 'emergency fund' that he shuffled his monthly allowance into but he did owe the guy more the. Just the lunch would cost him so he will just have to get over it. "I should be graduating soon and then I can only hope to find a place to ply my trade." He shrugged and gave an uncertain smile.

The food came out quickly. Quinn had stuck to a more pocket friendly lunch. "Being a teacher would be cool. I don't know if I could do it myself but if you had the patience it would be a good way to go."

The other boy had a point about the lack of job opportunities for a fine arts major, the jokes that he had heard boiled down to the idea that the paper the diplomas were printed on was in higher demand than the students themselves. Not that Quinn cared. He respected them for going for something not for the money but because they loved to do it. If he had cared about money Quinn could have just been a spoiled playboy living off his hefty trust fund rather than wanting to make his own way in the world. What he would do after receiving his degree though... That still bared some thought.

“True.” Quinn chuckled and took a bite of his sandwich and made a mental note to eat at this place more often, it was good. “And if this building stuff gig doesn't work out I can always work with my dad.” He made a face as he remembered the one summer he actually interned at the company, he would rather be broke again before being stuck in such a… a… a… corporate sheep farm. Ties and boardrooms as far as the eye could see, it didn’t matter how it started for his dad but now it seemed it was all meetings after pointless meetings. Not something Quinn wanted to be part of. He conveniently forgot that he would actually, and quite likely, be CEO one day when his dad retired.

Quinn was taking a drink of his tea and nearly choked on it. That was one bizarre turn of conversation although one that should have been predictable considering just not at noon on a warm summery spring day. After a moment to collect his thoughts, and to keep from needing emergency care, he answered. “Well right now I’m kinda in a relationship but I know a few of my classmates keep trying at bars to get numbers… a few have even been successful.” He snickered as he munched on a chip, “I think the low batting average has something to do with the lines they try… lets see.” He paused and did his best impression of a slightly inebriated pick up line. “Hey baby… I’ve studied some fine buildings before but you have the best structure I have ever seen.” He couldn’t even keep a straight face after that line and grinned at Mathias. “Whats the worst artist pickup line you've heard,” He smirked and added, “Or used.”