2020.11.10:Rats and Falcons

Participants: Gogh, Fastidious Ratkin; and, Colombe, High-born Vamp

Scene:

Sunset's View - Beach
	The beach at Sunset's View is a nearly mile long stretch of well maintained sandy beach on the Pacific, anchored to the north by the extension of the Sunset's View fishing pier, and on the south by the lighthouse shaped headquarters for small craft and float rentals. The beach is broken up only by the dots of lifeguard chairs, staffed at all times, and the rise of towers of stadium lighting, painted and camouflaged to give the passing appearance of giant palm trees. At night these lights buzz to life, and coupled with strategically placed buoys provide safe and ample lighting for night time excursions into the water and surfing. 
	The beach is centered by the Sunset's View Tiki Bar, open aired, with a variety of seating and tables on a large concrete raised patio that is large enough to allow a sizeable dance floor, turning the beach fully into an acceptable spot for the nightlife.
Obvious Exits:
  Beach Cafe <<BC>>   Grand Plaza <<GP>>  

	Colombe walks slowly up the beach at night. She is breathtaking, standing out, in her demeanor and fashion, wearing clothes of a bold gothic style (https://cityofhopemush.net/index.php/File:Elysium_colombe.jpg). She has a 
glove on her hand; she is looking out across the beach, looking for something in the sky.  

	She (Gogh) is not breathtaking. She is not stunning, or well dressed - her clothes mismatch ever so slightly, and while clean, are thoroughly worn and cheap. She's settled on a bench, one knee tugged up to her chest, and looks 
like maybe, maybe, she's in University. Maybe. There's a trashcan next to her with the top flipped open, and a pensive expression on her face as carefully picks open a stained, cold bag of half-eaten fries
Quick and neat, slender and precise, she moves with a soft step and flickering eyes. Too young for the sourness of her expression, she nevertheless has made efforts to blend in to the university student age with neat, cheap, chic 

	Colombe sees the girl, and studies her as she walks. Then in the sky, a black silhouette, a thin horizontal slice, hovers in front of the moon, catching her eye. Colombe makes a low whistle, calling the shadow to her.

	Gogh stirs at the whistle, looking up, fingers in the bag. And she sniffs at the sight of the falcon, but doesn't retreat, doesn't flinch, only narrows her eyes a moment. And to Colombe, in her bold gothic, strapped and tied pieces, a bitter little amusement flashes to the young woman's lips, before she pops a cold fry between them

	The shadow returns, dropping a freshly-killed city rat on the ground at her feet before landing on Colombe's glove, dancing a bit, somewhat agitated. Colombe whispers something to the falcon, and the bird relaxes. She gives the proud bird a gentle kiss on the head, ignoring the rat carcass on the beach.

	Gogh's lip curls. She looks at the bird, and then at the woman, sucking in her cheeks as her eyes drift to the rat, to her own, cold meal, before asking, in a faintly, bitterly amused tone "You not going to eat that?" With a little smirk dancing on her lips

	Colombe's gaze shifts to Gogh, regarding her intently. The falcon gets agitated again, dancing on the glove, looking about ready to book it. "Fly, little one." Colombe says, and gently jerks her arm, allowing the bird to do what it wants, and take flight. She looks back to Gogh. She smiles pleasantly, eyes warm. "Not to my taste, generally. Please, be my guest."

	"Oh, you'd fucking love that" Gogh says with a sigh "I'm not quite at that level, but thank you. Lovely to know what people think" She leans back, dropping the fries to the side and glancing at the dead rat. Then at Colombe. Her whole body tenses, uneasy

	Colombe's smile fades, and her expression changes to one of mild regret. "Forgive me, I meant no offence." She lifts a hand, signalling to someone or something, as she steps away from the bleeding corpse of the once-vibrant animal at her feet. "I merely wished to join in your joke. You don't seem the type to eat rats."

	"Uh. Huh." Gogh says. She lifts her little snub nose, sliding to stand and looking at the woman with a solid eight inches on her. Before heels. "I wasn't sure about you. It's why most people go hunting, right?" She asks, adjusting her blouse fastidiously

	"Most people." Colombe replies. "I would only eat rats as a last resort, personally." She smiles that statement off sort of pleasantly. Oh, yes, it's another joke. It is not hard to imagine that she has never been hungry a day in her life. And then a large man appears to pick up the dead rat. He seems pretty used to this; he puts it into a sack marked with a biohazard symbol, and quietly walks away, back to the shadows. Colombe looks at the trash can, then back to Gogh and her cold fries. "I could offer you a hot meal, if you like." She nods slightly, indicating the beach cafe, nearby.

	"Oh, only if it's not putting you out" Gogh mutters. She digs in her pockets - which are pretty blatantly empty. "What about you?" She asks with that same wariness. After all ... money talks, and the street rat is wary, eyes flicking "Why're you out hunting on the beach? Really best place?"

	Colombe's gaze is quiet but warm, as she replies to Gogh. "My falcon is a bit high-strung, and it's peaceful here, at night." She motions warmly toward the cafe. "After you."

	When Gogh moves, it's graceful. Precise. Her feet tread a perfect line, her motions delicate. It's quite the contrast to the look of her, as she trots along on the smooth line, trotting to the beach cafe

Gogh moves to Sunset's View - Beach Cafe
Gogh has left.
You move to Sunset's View - Beach Cafe
Sunset's View - Beach Cafe 
	The Sand Bar is a slow paced cafe done in light and soft pastel colors that nearly runs up onto the beach, in fact a small set of wooden stairs completes the journey, allowing easy access to and from the beach for a light lunch, or just to relax without the sand. With only a minimum of indoor seating, most of the area is taken up by the broad patio, filled with light pink patio chairs and tables topped by wide white umbrellas, all fenced off with a waist high wooden fence. While the atmosphere may be slow and relaxing, service is quick and attentive and nearly always polite. The menu shifts at time and is written on a chalkboard everyday held by a caricature cutout of a swarthy skinned man in a purple vest and matching ballooning silk pants who winks and points at today's specials. The fare tends to be light, lunchtime food, and cold fruit based drinks, but always includes the locally famous cuban sandwich.
Contents:
Gogh
Obvious Exits:
  Beach <<Bh>>   Grand Plaza <<GP>>  

	Colombe falls behind the graceful, trotting girl, her gait more like that of a military commander of old. She surveys the cafe, and chooses a table, pointing to it, before walking over and sitting, relaxed, into a chair. She looks at the chalkboard menu, tilting her head to view. "Looks like they have gazpacho, fish tacos, and club sandwich specials today."

	"Uh. Club sandwich, and anything hot to drink" Gogh says. There's still a lot of suspicion as she slumps into a chair, sniffing and looking about. The softer lighting throws the condition of her clothes into start relief, before she looks back to Colombe, studying her. Her fingers drum on the edge of the table, stiff and frenetic "So, uh. Who're you?" She asks with a diffident shrug

	"We have a variety of fair-trade coffees, and artisanal teas and hot chocolates." The server, a young woman about Gogh's age, with pretty eyes and short curly hair, offers in a bubbly voice."I recommend a chamomile with honey, you look like you could use a hit of relaxation." And looking to Colombe, the server smiles brightly, a bit enthralled, and asks, "And. Uh. Anything for you?"

	Colombe, for her part, smiles and shakes her head. Looking back to Gogh, she offers. "I am a friend to those in need. You can call me Colombe, if you like."