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Look, he knew plenty about being stare-worthy. Knew about it intimately. For him, it would take something excessively unusual to stare; he'd seen a lot in his adult years and he wasn't entirely keen on staring to begin with. It was rude, it was unfriendly, and it was rarely met with a friend on the receiving end.

Even so. There he was. Staring. Very damn near oogling. But it wasn't his fault!

There was a cat. A cat with roses.

Well...as far as he could tell, there was a cat with roses. Not that the woman the cat was with wasn't worthy of being stared at - no, she was some sort of night time goddess swathed in light, but she knew it, and was capitalizing on it with pictures. It was the cat that was so unusual. He...he could have sworn the cat was posing with her night mistress (and yes, he'd just about bet dinner on the cat being female, it was acting feminine). The cat perched, posed, preened, and...maybe it was the distance, it really had to be the distance, but he was half convinced the cat was growing flowers on its head. Realistically, it was probably some cute flower crown, an accessory made by the night mistress, but...it...it seemed like they...bloomed--

And just as suddenly, the cat was abruptly looking at him, drawing the attention of the dark lady. He blanched, preparing to smile nervously and just be on his way -- but she was laughing. Smiling. Inviting him over.

There was a friendly reception on the end of that stare.

He did smile in return, a flickering, confused thing coupled with a slightly lifted hand and an uncertain wave of normal fingers, but he was caught and the respectable thing to do was at least say hi. Glancing around, he jogged over to the mysterious twosome, waving again with his not-so-normal fingers on the approach. Lucas wasn't entirely presentable, having been out on a light jog with sweat pants and a tank, but he was hoping the company might be forgiving. (He had a feeling they might not be, not when they took pictures like that.)

"Hey, I'm uh," another crooked grin, a nervous clasp of his hands, "Lucas. Didn't mean to interrupt." He offered his good hand to the night lady to shake, but his gaze drifted towards the feline. "This is a dumb question, but...the cat is...the cat's real, right?" Flinching a little at the question reaching his own ears, he grinned in an apologetic manner at both the woman and the cat. Yeah. That wasn't weird at all.

Oh god. Oh no. She was a flirt. Lucas was had. The nervousness twisted and floated away like a balloon, leaving the delighted man to his own oafish devices.

"It takes a man a moment in the presence of greatness, I really can't be blamed," he laughed, much easier than his smile before had been. Lucas knew that the night lady - Autumn - was aware of her beauty, so if he was agreeing with her praise, it wasn't weird or come-onish, right? He was just saying what the lady already knew. When she started to stand, he moved to try and help her, but she was up before he could set his feet and he turned the gesture into a playful bow. "There's nothing wrong with reveling in the moment. Autumn, Rosalinde," he put his hand on his chest and bowed his head to each of them without lowering his eyes, "pleasure to meet you, ladies."

He was going to add some sweet compliment, probably something goofy because that's just what he did, but he was quickly derailed by Autumn's humor. Or at least, he thought it was humor. It was said in an easy way and then Rosalinde was -- was the cat staring him down? Lucas blinked at the rose-crowned female, holding that gaze; it was one of those weird moments that felt like being on the precipice of something, one soft breeze away from falling into a yawning chasm -- and then it passed with a trill and Autumn's reaction.

Dark brows lifted, eyes flicking between the mistress and her seeming muse, lips parted in a partial smile and words he couldn't quite give voice to. "Are you -- are you holding a conversation with Rosalinde?" Was that strange? Or was the fact he somewhat believed her stranger still? "As you wish, Princess Autumn." His befuddled smile warmed into a friendly, lop-sided grin. "Just uh -- warn me if I need to stand still when birds start landing to bask in your laughter, alright?"

Idly scratching his bearded cheek, he kept a relaxed smile, looking between Autumn and Rosalinde and trying really hard to keep his eyes more focused on the former than the latter. "Do you often take Rosalinde out for photos at the park? She's quite well mannered." He wouldn't say 'well behaved.' It felt like he might lose an eye for assuming Rosalinde to be compared to cats who weren't cool enough to wear flower crowns.

"A cat that likes attention, at all times? That's impressive." Lucas smiled at Autumn, but cast his eyes briefly to the unfettering stare of Rosalinde to impart it with her, too. "My experience is you get about five minutes, at their discretion. She's uh -- she's a beautiful exception."

His smile faltered uncertainly when Autumn suddenly frowned, and accompanying the expression, Rosalinde gracefully descending from her perch. Lucas felt an odd swell of caution in his chest, even as she so daintily and sweetly reached for him. And he, hardly one to resist, made a soft 'oh!' sound and bent over, his hands dangling down to her and held still for her to inspect. Autumn's words made him glance up again, perplexed, fingers already outstretched in the general way of meeting a cat - letting them sniff before petting - and now rather frozen that way, in mid kneel.

"I..." Speechless. It didn't happen often, but the cat literally had the man's tongue. He shook his head short and abruptly, looking down at Rosalinde with a confused smile and then back to Autumn. "I uh, I can't tell if you're -- being serious, I'm sorry, hah..." Lucas didn't believe in coincidence, just cause and effect. Rosalinde reaching for him, coupled with Autumn's words and previous comments, were starting to give him a little bit of a chill up his spine. It was a similar feeling he'd gotten when being read marching orders. He tried hard to keep his grin, but his bemused expression and winded way with words were betraying his ability to make sense of it all.

"You can understand her, and she -- she's aware my arms are different? Just by sight?" Lucas was trying really, really hard to be logical about it, but he felt frozen, on that precipice of something strange again. His pale gaze turned back to the cat, head tilted to the side, but fully attentive...just in case.

Flowers. Buds and blooms where they hadn't been before. His prosthetic thumb slowly - if not automatically - rubbed the purring cat's head just behind her ear, wide eyes fixated on the sudden growth around his feet. For one moment, Lucas felt like he'd stepped into a Disney movie where this was normal - Autumn would be some great and powerful being to introduce him to the notions and it would end in slaying a dragon. In that moment, there was wonder, a touch of awe - and when Autumn spoke, reality slammed back into place and shredded the romantic notions into something dark, something heady with a fear of the unknown.

His fingers stiffly continued to pet Rosalinde, but his eyes slowly slid back up to Autumn, brows akimbo and his smile absent, lips pressed into a bloodless thin line. Lucas had played a game akin to what she had said, and he wanted to say it out loud but there was a strange sort of fear in that, too -- there was a power in names. And if invoking the name of Silent Hill was a thing, like hell was he going to give it a voice.

She mentioned his leg. The freeze in him thawed and he stood upright quickly, his weight settling into his good leg. It was a defensive posture, but Autumn was no closer to attacking him than she had been when they met. She was talking, she was saying words he could not...would not conceive of, and old soldier habits were kicking in. The only problem with the flight or fight mentality was there was nothing to flee from or fight off. The adrenaline was real and had no where to go.

Lucas wore a stern expression, but it wasn't a cruel one; his usually darker skin was a touch ashen, and the way his throat kept working for words that didn't come only emphasized his jumping pulse. If it was just words, he could have told her she needed help, hell, even recommended her a place or two. But there was Rosalinde. The talking cat. The cat who not only could see his visible limb along with his hidden, but could grow ********' flowers at a whim. He could deny words til he was blue in the face, but...there was no explaining Rosalinde away.

"I, um..." His face warred between dark furrowed brows of trying to write it off as insanity and the flicker of distant resignation that she was being honest with him. He clearly didn't know how to process what was being said. Lucas had veritably choked on the magic food and there was no Heimlich maneuver to clear it. It didn't help she said the name that had touched on his thoughts. Clearing his throat, he lightly tugged at the neck of his tank top, brief flashes of a tumultuous smile breaking up his stormy consternation. "...having a hard time...digesting all that. This." He paused, glancing to Rosalinde. "And you, little sweet."

Yeah. She was a rose-sprouting cat. Didn't mean he had to be a d**k about it, even if he felt a little x-rayed by her vision. His good hand ghosted over his temple, grateful he wasn't trembling in his anxious inner battle of suspension of belief. "I -- I can't just go 'cause a pretty lady speaks to psychic cats," he finally managed to get out, the words slow and mouthed like they were hard to chew on, "and I mean...if you're in trouble...can I...what can be done?"

He looked at her, and for a moment, the war paused in favor of a helpless tilt of his head, part of his lips, shape of his brow. Lucas was a soldier. Was a soldier. He didn't know the enemy or what was going on but the idea of leaving anyone behind was not possible. "I mean...do you need help? In ... in a normal way, like, getting a meal so you can focus way? '********, Princess, this is all way beyond my pay grade." Lifting both hands, he drug them through his hair, some of the strands coming loose with the clawing gesture before running them over his mouth. His heart beat too fast and his mind made too little sense. What was he supposed to do with this information? How was he supposed to feel?

Honestly, what the ******** class="quote">

Moonstone Dazzle

Pale eyes flickered down to the cat that was purring against his shins, and a little lost, he slowly knelt back down on his right knee, his left leg a little stiff and out to the side. Gently stroking her fur, fingers brushing over the back of her roses, Lucas tried to roll up all he heard and experienced into something he could stomach. The tightness in his abdomen and dryness in his throat told him this was not something so easily ingested.

He appreciated Autumn's attempt at trying to 'normalize' that which was anything but; he was, however, neck-deep in something else and that standing at the precipice had turned into a shuffling with rocks falling off the edge. Lucas could only surmise that for Autumn, it was a free fall.

But she was laughing. She was owning her trouble and upset and still standing. The least he could do was the same.

Lucas reached down real deep (lord, did he ever reach) and pulled out a smile, still paying Rosalinde mind but wearing the expression like armor for the Princess and himself. "That's -- that's about all I can offer, you know. Company, sarcasm, Disney anecdotes and a strong arm. Just one though." A soft chuckle evolved into equally soft laughter, grinning up at her, squinting against the bright sky that seemed not at all suited for their discussion. "Nah. I'm more like the loyal steed, since you have the talking companion slot filled. Smart one, too," he added quickly, gently running his hand over Rosalinde's back.

One side of his smile hooked higher than the other as Autumn succumbed to laughter, mentally patting himself on the back while continuing to physically pet Rosalinde. Some people might have been horrified by the joke or not known how to take it, but Lucas wasn't the type to walk on eggshells, least of all when it came to his own condition: it is what it is, and he was making the best of it. And hey, it made for great ice breakers, jokes and the occasional mischief.

"Sometimes the obvious is good stuff," he offered with a nonchalant shrug, pleased.

The next part made the man's brows shoot practically to his hairline, eyes wide and briefly unblinking before shifting away, his rakish grin betraying his demurely lowered eyes, making a few half laughing sounds. "Princess, I may be a sad sight of a two-limbed steed, but I promise, I'm still a smooth ride." He laughed softly under his breath, shifting his weight from crouched to sitting on his hip, still keeping a light contact with the feline.

He wasn't psychic, but he didn't have to be when he saw the 'look' Rosalinde shared between them. "Hey, you picked her to be your human, you have to live with that." And then he laughed again, because damn if the entire situation wasn't weird, unusual and somehow, strangely delightful.

The cat...Rosalinde actually rolled her eyes. She rolled her eyes. The feline wasn't just having some link with Autumn, she didn't just have xray mind powers, she was far more intelligent than a mere cat. Hell, she was probably smarter than Lucas himself.

He got to that plateau one experiences when being overwhelmed where everything is fuzzy and the back of his head felt heavy. Like he needed to eat or he'd pass out. It all felt too surreal, far beyond his ability to comprehend, and so he felt stuck in that miasma of 'does not compute,' existing in the bubble of strangeness without grasping the full implications. He could only smile and chuckle along with Autumn's hysterics, shaking his head in a good humored way, trying to keep up. It was - and aptly, he might add - like a one legged man trying to keep up in a race.

"Any time, Princess." Lucas gave Rosalinde one last stroke of fur before he carefully got back to his feet, doing well to keep his s**t together for the time being. "Some days we just need more light and laughter than others." Especially if your times are dark, he thought, but didn't say out loud. She didn't seem like she'd need a reminder of that.

"Ah! Yeah, no problem!" He fished his own phone out of his pocket with a small fumble (unlocking the thing wasn't always easy), handing it to her while taking her phone. "If you'd do the honors?" Lucas chuckled, entering the number and handing it back, all on auto pilot. "I'm serious about that meal. If things get too heavy, we'll go have some fun. No riding required." And he quirked another smile, hoping to whatever god was up there that psychic cats were the worst of what he'd have on his plate when it came to meeting with the pretty lady.