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‘Aegir certainly adores you.’ Dear, foolish, beautiful dancer. Little enough company in my life has there been, if not for the regularity of his invitations to draw, and our late dinners. He puts up well with our differences. “I should be very lost without you, Aegir or Faust."

“Many of us would be. You do a great deal with the technology available to us all. I’ll draft some ideas down, and send them over, on things that could be added. “

With cat successfully loafed, Quenton rested long fingers against the silky outside chop, and supporting her weight. Her’s was a strange question, and panged in hollows of breast against what should be stone and not bone for want and wish. There were other meanings to ‘partner’, but not the one she meant. “Trustworthy in that they will not casually make exceptions to all, yea, even their own ideals. Rational. Confident. Battle skill is a thing of practice, and ideals need not match as long as we can refer between us all to the second, rationality, and work out our priorities. “

How I once thought to find a team of such people, and a leader that I could support with any acumen given me by any star. Or God. Or whatever people like to call on for more than dumb chance. But there was interest in the tidbits and focus on her, and her relationship with Aegir and the team he was a part of, “Do you get on well with Tribble, then?”

Listening to her evaluation of her relationship with the mere cat was delightful, and Quenton tried to make a mental note to himself to ask Colin for any already existing pictures he’d taken of the two, as well as to beg he get as many more as possible. It was certain to be terribly cute. The gaze of imploring green, couched in soft silvers and whites, was also adorable.

“A chance to practice being bipedal, interacting with the native species on bipedal terms, would be a good opportunity. That’s a good idea, Ash. It’s really the logistics of covering the signatures in rotation that will be the key, since it’s exhausting at length. But hour rotation, and a four hour maid/butler cafe special could provide four shifts and the excuse. I’ll see if I can get ahold of the Asian Studies Department at the University. They’d probably be willing to help sponsor something and inform me about pop culture specifics as far as food, decor and customs...uniforms…”

“Would you be willing to source around the HQ and see if some of the other cats would be willing to come help out? Even if they can’t take on bipedal shape, it’s good practice for covering aura’s, and increasing their stamina for that, all the more since it isn’t live combat where the stress of the situation could make for costly mistakes. And if there could be two cats covering during each hour, if any one cat was inexperienced, and faltered, the other’s presence makes sure there won’t be a aura breach to draw attention and blow cover. “ Reasoning it out, it really was a good idea. There’d been plenty of Senshi and Knight based practices and bootcamps. Even when Mauvians were present to those, however, nothing had focussed so specifically on making sure that the Guardians were used to making use of their various skills. The strange dreams of portent had shown a world where those skills and Mauvians, from Kitten to Aged, had been indispensable.

“Let’s pursue it. In all seriousness. There’s a charity event already planned for this summer, around Independence Day, but a Maid/Butler Cafe would be perfect for the Winter-into-Spring weather, since it would focus on indoor settings. “

“You’ve been a Guardian a long time now, and it may be unavoidable that if some newer, or kitten, Mauvians will need you to spell them or teach them in it. I think it could be interesting to ….invite senshi in their civilian guise. It would be a thing of joy and perhaps introduce them more to the place and to the VIP system and availability of their free drinks and food if they need it. I can’t gauge interest. “ The young senshi at the inception meeting for the Blackwatch had been volatile, idealistic, possibly polar to himself. There’d been no follow up, so it was hard to gauge more than the impression and indignation on matters of soldiers, duty, age, and the like. If there were problems to be had from giving the Mauvians their own training day, he couldn’t pretend to fully predict them.

“If…it were all senshi, then there’d be no risks of truly adverse trouble with civilian discovery or enemy infiltration directly at the cafe. That could be quite workable? All senshi and all knights in the reservations. Then the only risk would be aura lapses to outside trackers, youma and officers and the Mirror. If there is a reserve Mauvian that is experienced with aura covering always on duty, then that wouldn’t be a trouble either. What do you think of that aspect? I wonder if we could work a game of it in rotating one or two regular senshi or knights with ears and tails on the service staff. Then the guests could try to guess who were the Mauvian servers and who were the Human. “

“Dates ..." It did require deeper thought than just winter/spring seasonal generalities. Time to reach cats, reach senshi, reach knights, RSVP, try to arrange for supplies and any tech. Uniforms, which weren't optional, because the cuteness was an absolute necessity. "March would probably still be cold for any hope of outdoors, for space. Unless the end of March. Or Early April? Flowers are very bright then, and days are sunny and temperate. It could be in the roof garden instead of crammed into the little fore-section of the Cafe."

"Sprays of Forget-Me-Nots would be cute at your ears.” A sculptor’s roughened pointer finger light scritched just below one silver ear in musing.

Her seated curl was adorable, and it worked well for keeping an eye on the tiny visor with it’s miniscule letters. Thankfully he was young and early enough in graduate studies as to not have squandered his vision yet. It was a surprise that the HUD was in English, rather than some incomprehensible xenolinguistic. Some part of him had expected Mauvian, perhaps. She and the others he’d met all grew up on Earth, in the United States, and perhaps with native English Speakers as primary informants to language. Though….Faust had been a gift from Alois, and seemed none the more experienced in understanding German than any other cat. Vergissmeinnicht…

“No singular reason. Flowers they are, which many find fair to adorn as nature’s jewels the bodies given us. Bouquet and bed of many different shades of blue clusters, “ And here he touched light fingers around her face and fur where colors or her bipedal image might wear the corresponding shade, “Pink, purple, and clean white of exceeding delicacy and petite size. Traits of some familiarity?”

“Their symbolism to poem and song is for loyalty, fidelity, affection and even love. Each blossom is a favored memory, despite separation of time, place, or spirit. They are mythical, sublime, beloved across centuries and oceans, from Newfoundland’s soldiers fallen to King Henry IV in exile in the 14th Century. The playful irony, maybe, to adorn a cat with a flower called ‘mouse's ear’ from the Greek.”

Fridiles auga, the eye of the beloved. They were never blue, but gold. As with Faust’s. And hers are Green, as with Aegir. Never white, pink, purple or blue. I wonder if that will be some sort of omen.

His words had trailed off, gaze and mind partially distracted to the distance while his hand somehow still managed to luxuriate in gentle rufflings of her fur. Rogue-mind caught up to the rest again and tried to inject more present warmth into his voice than saudade. She was here, present on his lap in too-rare delight, and it would be a sorrow not to ensure that the treasure of that was related through action and attentiveness. “It could be thus. I have them safe in case I made. They’ve had some wearings since, though only ‘about the house.’ The Mechanical Tail Company in the UK that makes servo-moving tails...I wonder how much noise they make? “

It had been a December. No, he’d walked into a florist’s with a shop keeper who’s hair was like oil-slick over ebony. Dhawan. Bluebells, Crown Vetch and Nasturtium. But Spring had not come, nor would, for that romance where the language of flowers had been needful to his mind and researched. Camellias had substituted in fare-well-wishes. Alexandre Evans. Perhaps the other was near or graduated with his bachelors, by now. It had been three and a half years. It did not feel clever, but remained in his memory as might where any brain tied the facts and symbolism off to tens of still lives in art history, to the illustrative posters of the Art Nouveau period

“If you can make adjustments to ears and tails with Mautech, so that they’re not so obvious with belts or headbands and natural movements, then I’ll work with silicon and flocking to make more realistic parts. It won’t be so far off from the work I’ve done for Halloween commissions. Or cosplay lapidary. Before we get too far along, though- “

More than enough minutes had passed since their retreat, and he’d offered both drink and ganache sable in tribute to the Mauvian’s sweet-tooth. Carefully and reluctantly he lifted her to set her comfortably on the seating while he stood, “I still owe you that refreshment. What flavors can I tempt you with?”