Log:Bitter Coffee Goes With Bitter Opinions

Opinions and Morals 2020/07/18 	 Amelia Magda Evelyn Grimm Porter

1

Grimm steps in and orders a dark chocolate mocha, extra espresso shot, and a slice of pumpkin bread. She looks tired as she says, "You know what? Double that double shot. Quad shot it."

Grimm takes her order and shuffles over to a table with the comfy upholstered chairs. She plunks down, sets down her food and drink, and starts rifling through her messenger bag.

Amelia smiles, "Ms Grimm, you should ask for the red-eye special. A good friend of mine told me about it. He caught me just before my descending nose dipped into the cup of ordinary coffee on the table I was seated at."

Grimm looks up with one hand stuffed in her bag. "Is that when they add a splash of whiskey?" she teases with a wink as she sneaks out a flask from her bag. She unscrews it and puts a splash in her drink when she senses no one is looking their way. "How many shots does the red-eye have?"

Amelia chuckles at the flask, then rubs the back of her neck at Grimms question. "I've no idea. What I do know if don't have it if you plan on sleeping during the next 24 hours."

Grimm slips the flask back, but half way concealed in her bag, she halts and thinks on it. "Did you want some for your drink? And I think I definitely need to sleep tonight. I just need to stay awake long enough to get to tonight, y'know?"

Amelia shakes her head. "Thank you but no. I'm... Ms Grimm, I came close to becoming an alcoholic a few years my time ago. I don't drink anything more potent than the softest of fae wines now."

"The softest fae wines are still pretty hard. But I get it," Grimm says as she stows the flash down at the bottom of her bag, then searches for a book and pulls it out from the depths. It's an old, leather-bound book. No title or writing on the cover, which is odd. And no magical signature.

Amelia glances at the book. Not so long as to exceed the bounds of politeness. "I never took you for a diarist." she comments with a grin. "But if you were that is exactly the type of media I'd expect you to use."

"Oh, well. I....huh. It totally is. It has that old school goth aesthetic I love. But this isn't my diary. It's someone else's journal. I do have a book not too different, but it's for lyrics rather than...I dunno, how may day went," Gabrielle shrugs with a grin as she sets her messenger bag down by her feet. She picks up her coffee and leans back into the cushy chair, book kept closed on her lap. She asks more delicately, "Any reason in particular that had you drinking too much? I know a bit about drinking and partying to forget things."

Amelia shrugs a bit uncomfortably, more one might guess from recollections than hesitation about spreaking. "A relationship I was in was falling apart." she admits.

"Mm," Gabrielle nods knowing as she sips her drink. She lifts her cup and gives it a small waggle. "That's why I'm drinking now, myself. Daydrinking does help with the sting of a breakup. But it can be addicting to just be numb all the time."

Amelia nods in understanding, "Learn from my mistake, Ms Grimm. Drinking only numbs the pain for a while. It doesn't make it go away, just pushes it into the future."

The twentysomething woman with the silver hair at the window table has been watching people pass on the street, as well as those who enter and leave the coffee shop. As the nearby conversation reaches her ears, her gaze drifts in its direction, but she doesn't comment, only sipping at the demitasse cup that holds her espresso.

Grimm nods faintly and sips her cup. "That's what I need right now. I...Mal and I...we broke it off. And there's so many other things I need to deal with, I just...need to push those feels down the road a bit so I can do what needs to be done," she says quietly.

"It doesn't even do that," disagrees the woman at the window table, injecting herself into the conversation. "Drinking -- serious drinking -- may /seem/ to numb the pain, or push problems into the future, but neither is true. In my professional observation, it only generates more problems."

Amelia leans forward, "Relationship advice is not something I'm qualified to give. My own record is 0-2. But if there's anything I can help with, well you know where to find it if it comes to that." For a moment she considers commenting of someone commention on a private conversation. But it's hardly private. And the advice is sound.

Grimm smiles in appreciation at Amelia. "Well, I'm not sure if I need advice, since it's over. It's really been over for a while. I just didn't want to believe it," she sighs softly, sadness breaking through her usual unbothered exterior. "I don't really have any plans to date anyone."

Grimm looks over to Magda and responds, "Well, it certainly can be fun." Then she recognizes the person who spoke.

Magda tilts her head. "For a certain measure of fun," she concedes, then nods towards Amelia. "I'm more of her nature -- a certain small amount, in celebration or for taste. Of course, I tend not to enjoy the taste, so that does limit my enjoyment of such products." Her smile is brief, but amused -- possibly with a bit of self-mockery.

Coffee. Life's blood of just about any profession. But for a social worker, it might as well -replace- blood. Evelyn is out and about on a Saturday afternoon, but is it for her own purposes? No. Is it because she wants to be out and about on a Saturday? No. Is it because she just finished tracking down another runaway who was about to get sucked into some human trafficking operation that will no longer have that child to secret away? Well, she doesn't plan to talk about that.

But she has bags under her eyes as she strides into the shop and approaches the counter with a weary gate.

Amelia also recognizes Magda. She chuckles. "I wonder, she muses idly, how mush of a hit the planetary economy would take if someone bombed the coffee shop just now."

Magda glances at the door as it rings when Evelyn enters, then outside at the passing traffic when Amelia makes her comment. "Oh, not so much," she muses, "if you mean me -- but I've survived that sort of thing before, so ..." She shrugs, and sips again at her espresso.

Grimm sips her spiked coffee. "I find plenty of drinks I like. I like 'em strong and sweet." Just saying that makes her think of Malcolm and causes her to take another sip to help forget. "Anyway," she looks to Amelia. "You given any thought to that sword of yours? Did the others bring up my suggestion?"

Amelia sighs, her mood instantly dampened. "I'm sure they did. They brought up lots of suggestions. It may sound follish. It probably is. But when I thought it was impossible that had a certain peace to it. You'd think being given hope would make me feel better. But it's just unsettled me."

"Unsettled?" Gabrielle asks, looking mildly alarmed that Amelia is dampened. "Shick, I thought that'd cheer you up. And I was sure my crazy time loop plan would work," she says as she sits up, fretting on how to fix this. She's really trying her dysfunctional best to mend things and keeps failing.

Sword? Evelyn steps up to the counter and places an order for a Green tea. Not coffee this afternoon. She pays for it with a swipe of her smartphone over the scanner and turns to face the room while she waits for the order. Colonial Bay, where superheroes gather openly and talk super stuff in Past Times. She smirks a bit at the irony of it all.

Magda's eyebrows lift as the two shift to discussing something that's clearly due to prior events; she does not, however, ask the questions that she must have, merely watching the pair and listening. It's ... surprising how few people learn to do that.

Amelia says, "It's hard to explain. Probably because it doesn't make any sense. But there's a certain solidarity in either definitely being in a relationship or definitely not being in one. It's the times inbetween, the growing pains and the ending pains, that hurt the most."

Grimm nods softly to Amelia and raises her cup in an air-toast. "Amen."

Receiving her tea, a giant cup of the hot beverage, Evelyn gives a tired smile to the barista and regards the room as she takes a sip. Then she just finds a table to sit at where she can be out of the way. She has no superhero antics to speak of.. at least not when she is out of costume. And when she is -in- costume, she is usually too busy hunting down triad members to come to a coffee shop. Either way, she eyes the air-toast and sips her own tea.

Magda cannot but give a slight nod at the statement, recognizing its innate truth; her eyes follow Evelyn as she finds a table, then glances back at the people outside. "With pain comes growth," she says quietly.

"And with growth comes pain." replies Evelyn, and now -she- lifts her cup in a bit of a salute towards Magda. "Or to quote a movie. Life is pain. Anyone who tells you different is selling something."

Amelia looks abstracted as she thinks, "The Princess Bride? Dread pirate Roberts?

"Well, yes. But the proper quote is.. Life is pain Highness.. but that just gives it away far too easily." offers Evelyn as she sips her tea to hide the smirk behind the cup

"I mean, they weren't wrong," Gabrielle comments. "Though that's still a great love story," she smiles to herself. "Best movie ever."

Amelia nods in agreement. "Radical is a bit of a classic movie buff. So I've taken to watching some myself so I can nod knowingly what he quotes them."

"No," disagrees the silver-haired Magda, still watching those in the street, her English bearing a vaguely Eastern-European accent, Polish or German or something, "or at least, not always. Growth may be painful, but is not automatically so. Life, likewise. Years can pass, living life, with nothing but loving friends around you, new information to fascinate you, and your own strength to test." She sips again at her espresso, then adds, "If you are lucky, such times last a lifetime. If you are not ..." She shrugs, and puts her demitasse cup down on its saucer.

"If pain brings growth, I should be so grown up," Gabrielle mutters under her breath just as she's sipping. She looks to Amelia, raising her brows curiously. "He is? I had no idea," she says wih interest.

"Pain is relative. It can be heavy, or light. But the fact is... pain defines life. It can be a little pain, like stubbing your toe, or being disappointed that your favorite holovid show is cancelled. Or it can be monumental. In the end, life is about taking it, taking that hit... and continuing to move forward." suggests Evelyn. But she shakes her head, "Forgive me." she adds after seeming to come out of her thousand yard stare, "It's been a long weekend already."

That said, she sips her tea once more.

Coffee. Like some other mysterious natural forces, it can be light, or dark, and binds the universe together.

FLASHTHWUMP

A wild Porter appears, to drink of the great powers of the universe!

Gravity, another mysterious natural force, takes hold to bring him smartly to the floor.

Did someone mention pain?

Amelia smiles, a memory triggered. "Sometimes life can go well." She lifts her cup to Grimm, "Here's to Jake Newt and Henry Slug."

Grimm chuckles and raises a cup. At least that was a win. "To Jake New and Henry Slug. Hope they learned their lesson." She sips her drink. She sips, then almost coughs into her drink as she hears a telltale Flashthwump.

Magda gives a slight shrug to Evelyn's words. "People -- and peoples -- create their own story about what life is about, often due to the experiences they have, or which have been passed down by their forefathers." Her head turns as the man appears and, well, faceplants into the floor, wincing a little at the sight. "Ow," she comments.

Shaking her head, Evelyn shrugs, "Nobody lives without experiencing pain to a degree. And some of the children of this world know nothing -but- pain." She mutters that before she sips her tea.. and then the appearance of Porter makes her slosh it down her shirt... very hot. "Shit!" she mutters as she sets it down and jumps to her feet.

Porter isn't so great at the landing, but he gets back to his feet easily enough. At the sudden cursing and standing, he offers, "Sorry. Still working on that whole elevation thing." Maybe he'll fix it. One day. Darn Q axis! Or is it W? He forgets.

He didn't completely miss his destination, though, and heads for the counter to ask for "The usual, please." This seems to include both his drink, and a towel. And someone rolling the mop bucket out and around the counter to be handy. Just in case.

Amelia shakes her head slowly. "Hello Porter." She looks at Evelyn, "That could be a nasty scolding. Would you onject if I healed it. And dry cleaned your shirt as well?"

Porter adds in a wave as he's greeted. "Oh! Hey."

Magda has heard rumors of the man; her gaze turns to him, and she studies him thoughtfully, picking up her cup again to sip at the low-water coffee within it.

"I... sure, go ahead." mutters Evelyn as she shakes her head. She's really not of the mindset to appreciate supers just being super in public. It goes against everything she believes. That much can almost be seen in her eyes. But she suppresses it because... hey, the woman is trying to be helpful. It's actually quite a thoughtful gesture.

"Might be best to do this in the ladies room though. Unless you can do the undergarments while they're still attached or under other layers." she adds with a bit of a blush.

Amelia nods, "I can. And given there's a dimensional weaksopt in the ladies I'd rather not use magic in there."

Amelia waves her hands and chants. Neither are needed but it's habit. Butterflies swarm out from her sleeves, and very soon Evelyn is free from pain and her clothes are clean and dry.

Grimm smiles gently at Porter and gives him a wave once the incident of his arrival is being addressed and dealt with, fixed and clean dried. "Hey, Porter. How's it going?"

Porter turns from waiting for his drink at Grimm's call and wave. Which he returns with a smile. "Hey, Gabrielle. How's things going?" Then his coffee's ready! For a nice big sip. Mmm. Belatedly, something catches his ear and he looks over to Amelia and company. "Uh... if there's something wrong with the ladies' room, it wasn't me. And last time was a total accident."

Magda watches Amelia handle Evelyn's spill, then tilts her head back and finishes off her espresso. A lift of the demitasse cup when she sees the barista looking her way earns her a nod and a new cup in a few minutes.

"Uhhh. I didn't think you did, Porter," Gabrielle smiles fondly to reassure him. "Things are...uhh. Going. Trying to do some research and come up with a plan to deal with someone."

When Porter gets his drink, and her own drink is being brought out, Magda gestures towards the several open chairs at her table in invitation to Porter to have a seat near his ... apparent compatriots.

Amelia turns her chair to more easily face Magda, "Are you coming out of retirement?" she asks with obvious curiosity.

Porter wouldn't turn down a drink with friends, of course. Especially not when it's coffee, and there's chairs involved! He adds a wave to Magda, and Evelyn, and anyone else he hasn't waved to yet, on his way over to Grimm's table (which seems to be the popular one!).

Grimm keeps a smile as Porter walks over, then holds her arms open in an invitation of a hug. "What've you been up to? How's the fam?"

Magda makes a small gesture of indeterminate meaning. "I have never really /retired/," she says, "though in moving here, I have been told that if the UEMS or Starguard request assistance, I should respond; if it were important, I would normally be doing so anyhow." She shrugs, smiling up at the barista as she accepts the second espresso. "I just don't generally go out searching for wrongdoers; that's what you do when you're young and bright-eyed," she says with a smile that suggests she's probably teasing. "No, my focus is more on helping people understand supers -- and, I hope, help supers, both hero and villian, understand themselves and why they do what they do." She sips at the espresso, then sets cup and plate on her table. "I'm teaching a college course on ethics, and ligther versions in several of the city's high schools. As well as keeping myself available for Powers who ..." She considers her next words carefully. "Who need someone to talk to -- someone with both training and experience in the life."

Shirt laundered before her eyes, and the mild scalding healed, Evelyn just shakes her head and sits back down. "Thanks." she mutters before falling silent and just... observing for now. But her eyes flicker towards the ladies room fearfully for a lingering moment.

Porter won't turn down hugs, either. Though he does take another sip from his cup, first. Maybe just to lower the level to where it might not spill on Grimm when he hugs her. Well... not quite as much. "We're doing great, thanks."

He gets to the seat and plops into it, looking over at Magda with talk of retiring. Or not? "It can be kind of a busy place to retire," he shares. "Been retired for ... a year or two, now? I think? It just doesn't really feel like it. But there's all kinds of ways to help people, and that sounds awesome."

Though hearing Magda, Evelyn snorts, "Yeah. Like criminals want to understand their own motivations and look for therapists to speak to about it. That is what we call a pipe dream. You might find one... -one-, but the odds are you'll never get more than that."

Amelia listens. then nods, smiling. "I used to need someone like you around back when I was in high school. I mean I probably still do. But I used to, too. That's a heck of a thing you're doing. It will probably make more of a difference than anything I've ever done. Consider me impressed and awed."

Amelia looks at Evelyn, "Maybe criminals are mostly a lost cause. Young metas aren't. But they can go off the rails so very easily. Great power and too young to fullyt undersatand reesponsibility."

Grimm feels uneasy as she realizes Magda is a shrink. Sure, she realizes she needs therapy, but she's not quite ready yet. She remains quiet and sips her drink, draining it dry and setting it own. "Not all people break the law because they want to be villains and cackle evilly and destroy cities. Sometimes they're people who fell on rough times and lost their way."

Magda's gaze shifts to Evelyn as her bitterness is revealed. "Most super-folk in prison are required to see a psychologist. Many of those heroes considered to be on the line -- anti-heroes or dark heroes, however you wish to label them -- are extremely tortured, and find it much easier to talk to one such as myself who has been considered the same. And I personally find it relatively easy to get superpowered criminals to talk to me about their motivations; most of them, after all, are in it to get money they can't get any other way. I can guarantee the removal of that element for them, for a certain period."

Snorting, Evelyn shakes her head, "You could have said prisoners. I was talking about the ones who really -need- to be stopped, to be talked down. The ones in the field who would rather blow up innocent bystanders to get away than talk to anyone."

Adding to her comment, Evelyn looks to Magda, "You guarantee it? Do you pay them for their history? Give them money to incentivize them against trying to get more money? Wow."

Hearing Grimm state her point as well, Magda glances over at the heroine, and considers her for a long few moments. "Exactly. Privacy, both personal and professional, is guaranteed; unfortunately, seeing a therapist is still seen as somehow being a failure, which means those who need it the most -- heroes, for the most part -- aren't on my client list."

She turns, then, to look at Evelyn. "Fortunately, I /can/ speak in general terms without violating doctor/client privilege. Yes, little girl, I guarantee it -- if someone with a criminal history and no other way of getting money comes to me, I pay for their needs for a year. Hospital costs for their children; care home or in-home care for their parents, or their spouses. Whatever it is, with the understanding that they come to therapy once a week, and commit no crimes, and look for a job. And do you know what? Most of them come. Yes, you silly little girl, even the ones who 'really need to be stopped', who would rather blow up innocent bystanders to get away -- because they don't /care/ about innocent bystanders, and /do/ care about the reason they have to do what they do in the first place. The wife with cancer. The father with dementia."

"Yeah," Porter offers. "I'm sure they're not all terrible people. Maybe broke, or lost, or had lousy parents or ...just aren't the nicest? I mean, it's not like all heroes are flying, indestructible, Boy Scouts in capes that shoot lasers out of their eyes. Doesn't mean they don't help. Works both ways, right?" Ok, so it makes sense to -him-. Mostly.

"Right old lady. Paying their way for a year is -not- a way to make a lazy criminal who commits crime to -get- money because they want a get rich quick scheme and are not willing to work at it in a legitimate way...."

That said, she stands up, "You are welcome to spend your fortune on delusions. Lie to yourself all you want, but don't lie to the rest of us. Maybe you're just getting senile in your advanced years but... word of advice, do -not- refer to someone who makes their own way in the world, works to prevent young people from falling into that life in the first place... as little girl. That's just showing that you are too arrogant and self-deluded to actually do any good for anyone. Now... be well." she says as she turns to head for the exit.

"Out of the twenty-six clients I currently have," says Magda after Porter speaks, "three are prisoners who are required to undergo therapy. Eight are heros of one stripe or another, who are brave enough to seek out help. The rest are those who turned to crime because they felt they had no other choice -- and because the rest of the world, people," she looks at Evelyn with cold eyes, "who felt that they were scum and deserved no second chances, either would not help them, or actively screwed them over." She shakes her head. "You are exactly someone who should be taking my course."

Amelia looks between Magda and Evelyn. "I need to go." she says. "Take care of yourself, Ms Grimm. You try too, Porter." The next moment she's gone. Grimm sees her dimension hopping out to a idyllic semi-tropical beach.

Grimm waves to Amelia as she vanishes, seeing Amelia landing on her private tropical beach on Kiwi-X(?). She's been oddly quiet as Magda talks, but she seems to be listening carefully while trying very hard not to look like she's ding that.

"Why? Because I see the world for what it is, not for what I wish it could be?" asks Evelyn as she reaches the exit. "Look. I work with kids every day. I work for the state as a social worker. I actually help people. I came here to wind down and relax after spending my day off helping get a young girl away from exploitive asshats, and I did not come here to have you lecture me on your dream of what might be in a perfect world. Wake up, it's not a perfect world and you need to accept what the world really -is- before you actually help someone who turns around and uses your help to blow up a stadium full of people. Now, if you would kindly stop talking to me... I would like to preserve the few brain cells I have left, and not have them commit seppuku because they are forced to listen to your BS any more. As for taking your class... I have a feeling that it is doing more harm than good. I can't wait for the state to realize that and force you to stop."

Magda says, "Handle the world as it is," quotes Magda, "but do so by working towards what you wish it to be. If not you, who? If not now, when?""

"You're still talking. You might wanna see to that." says Evelyn as she drops her cup in the trash and pushes the door open. "For the record, I think you might be more dangerous than any of the villains out there. When you get to prison, I hope someone might pay -your- way so you can keep being a criminal."

Magda watches Evelyn depart, tilting her head to watch the woman walk down the street. "I used to be like that," she muses. "It took me about seventy years to get over it. Well, I'm a slow learner," she confesses, "but I do eventually learn."

"We can only do whatever we can do, right?" Porter tries to ...encourage? Mellow things out? Make up rhetorical nonsense? He does notice Grimm's gone quiet and looks to her, then, with curiosity and concern. "Everything Ok, Gabrielle?"

The silver-haired Magda nods slightly at Porter, turning away to glance at Grimm. "And the more wherewithal you have, the more you can do, for more people. One step, one day, one life at a time. The tragedy is that you can do no better than what you can see, while you can do far worse than what you think you have." With Porter's attention shifting to 'Gabrielle', so do her own vibrant electric-blue eyes. She does not speak, only look -- perhaps a bit more levelly than is comfortable.

"Huh?" Grimm asks suddenly when she realizes Porter's talking to her. "Oh. Yeah. Fine, fine," she insists rather quickly while digesting Magda's words. She suddenly notices attention's on her. "What?"

Magda's lips curl upwards slightly, and she sips her espresso. "My office hours run from 8 PM to 3 AM. If, you know, you happen to know someone for whom my services might be useful."

Porter nods to Grimm, sucks down most of the rest of his coffee, and then nods to Magda. "Maybe I should sign up for some of that. Sounds pretty interesting. So just nights?" He lets that question hang there a few moments, then thinks of another. "Er. What is it you do, again?"

Grimm feels like that's a very aimed comment, but tries to play it off. "I'll, uh, keep that in mind if I run into any criminals who need help," she says halfheartedly, still mulling it over for herself. Her head perks up and turns to Porter in surprise. "You? Really? But you seem so well adjusted."

Magda laughs softly. "The evenings are for my therapy patients. I'll be teaching ethics classes during the day this fall, though I plan on having open discussions on ethics for students and other interested parties, as appropriate, on Saturday afternoons and evenings." Her gaze goes from one to the other as she takes another sip, then states, "One of the worst mistakes made, and one I think the young lady who was here has made, is to not have rigorously thought out what you are doing, and why."

"Oh." Porter blinks at Magda. "So... not thinking things out is the worst?" He clears his throat and rubs the back of his head. "Um, yeah... I should sign up for your classes... Or, you know," he waves a hand around, "all the things..."

A small smile creeps up on Grimm's face at that. "Why's that, Porter? I thought you were always the man with the plan." She can't even keep a straight face before saying that, let alone after.

Magda shrugs as she sets her cup down. "It's like anything else in your life -- knowing what you want, and why you want it, and how to get it in a good way, and how to keep it so that it stays fresh and lively and good -- doing all of these things, they make living and life a better thing. I have ... encountered," and the way she says it suggests that 'encountered' is very much the most discreet, polite way of saying what happened, "... heroes who became not-heroes because they went about it the wrong way, or clung so hard to one ideal that they could not see the limits of their methods or their ideals."

Porter chuckles at Grimm's proposterous idea. Or because she can't keep a straight face, and it's contagious. He, respectfully and maturely, sticks his tongue out at her, then retracts it before looking to Magda. "Sounds like you've met lots of people who thought alot about things. I don't really do that." He shrugs. "I just try and do what seems the right thing, you know?"

Grimm smiles as Porter sticks out his tongue, then pulls off a piece of her pumpkin bread to nibble on it. "Hmm. Well, you always do try and do the right thing. That's true."

"Yes," Magda replies dryly, "I know -- the most dangerous sort of heroing. Again," she says, her tone going suddenly rather bleak as her head turns to look out the window, not at those in the street but at something in her memory, "speaking from experience.""

"Eh. I don't think my heroing... er, if you want to call it that... is any more dangerous than anything else." Porter shrugs and sips a bit more coffee. Or he would have, if there were any left. "Me just walking around, or sitting at home, can be kind of dangerous. So better to try and do something good with it, right?'

Magda huffs out a laugh, and turns her electric-blue gaze back to the young man. "Not most dangerous as to what you're reacting to, or what you're doing; the most dangerous as to potential consequences, or as to the possibility of being misled."

Grimm listens to the exchange while nibbling bits of her bread. "It's definitely more weird. Don't let his looks deceive you. He's the most selfless, kindhearted hero in this city." Of course, that's her personal opinion. There may be bias involved.

Magda shakes her head, looking over at Grimm. "It isn't selflessness, or kindheartedness. It's knowing what you will and won't do. It's knowing when /not/ doing something is more important than doing something. It's knowing when giving one starving person twenty days' worth of food is better than giving twenty starving people one day's worth of food. When the truly hard choices rear their heads -- when what you feel is at odds with what is true -- knowing already what you must do is ... well." Her lips press into a flat line, but she says, "Not happy for the knowing, but at least clear."

Porter blinks and glances sidelong at Grimm. Well, maybe a bit more turning, if just to minimize the straight-on sight of his blush by anyone. "Well..." he clears his throat "Yeah, always have to know what you will and won't do. Though sometimes you don't know until it comes up. You know? And you can't always know the right answer until after, so..."

Grimm smiles faintly as the discussion continues. "Porter has a knack for coming up with a third or fourth option nobody ever considered or thought possible."

Magda laughs. "Ah, yes, the chaos element. I have heard of it," she says, shaking a finger at Porter. "You are, in many ways, lucky for such, and I envy you these things. My own choices have made me ... let us say 'careful' of the decisions I make."

Porter chuckles at Grimm. "If only there were more first options, or better ones..." The chuckle fades off to a sigh, and not necessarily a bad one. "Yeah. I'm definitely lucky. Lucky to have an awesome family, and great friends." Grimm gets a foot nudged by his under the table with that last part. At least... he thinks it's her foot. Maybe. Hopefully? He doesn't have X-ray vision, or if he did, it's stopped by everything.

Grimm shifts and straigthens up a bit as she feels the nudge, looking a little embarrassed, with notes of being flattered. She smiles, which guarantees Porter it IS Grimm's foot and not some monster under the table.

The silver-haired woman nods to Porter. "Lucky indeed." She looks away, this time actually at the people in the street. "Friends help lessen the burden."

Porter gives Grimm a return smile, then nods again to Magda. "Yep. So does coffee." Speaking of which, his ran out a few sips ago, which he recalls as he looks down at his cup. "And I need to get more. 'Scuse me." Rather than risk falling on the counter, he gets up and walks over.

That's something Grimm is slowly learning. Trusting friends. It come with its own risks, though. "In the heroing business, friends can do that. They can also be a risk," she comments quietly as Porter goes to get a refill.

Magda watches Porter leave, and tones her voice to Grimm's ears alone. "Which is why," she notes quietly, "it helps to know exactly what you can and cannot do, will and will not do, must and must not do. I found it best to find those answers within myself -- not without help from religion, to be certain, but not dependent on the leaders of such to tell me what to do. Most of my course's case studies come from my own personal experience as a result."

Friends are awesome! They're helps and boons, not risks. Unless, maybe, your friend happens to be Porter, and then all bets are off. Lucky for him, though, Porter isn't his own friend, so he's immune! Or... something. Anyhow, he stands in line this time to get a refill. No one was in front of him before, and now it seems everyone else wanted coffee right before he got up.

Grimm's mouth twitches faintly at the mention of religion and sits back in her chair. "I don't think The Good Book has a lot of answers for modern day villainy and solutions," she mutters.

Magda laughs gently. "Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Shintoism -- many of the '-isms', as it were, hold deeply-hidden gems of guidance. Knowing that they were written at a certain time for a certain people, putting yourself in that place and time and mindset -- it helps you come to terms with the core elements of ethics, morality -- and wisdom."

Grimm shifts a little more at the long list. Something deep inside her feels uncomfortable about it. Though that may just be the eldritch source of her powers causing metaphysical indigestion. "I thought all that was just written to control people. And in some cases, make money."

Magda shrugs again, reaching out to take up her demitasse cup and sip at her espresso. "In a very few cases, to make money. You mentioned the Good Book -- you were raised Christian of some flavor, I presume?"

"Some flavor. Didn't really observe it much growing up," Gabrielle comments with a half shrug.

Magda nods in understanding. "Nor did I, to be honest; the Romani were not, still are not, enamored of by priests of any stripe, no matter our piousness. Still -- do you remember what Jesus said were the two Commandments, upon which all others were based?"

Grimm offers a wry smile. All this religion talk makes her think back on when she played 'confession' with someone. "No. I don't."

Magda nods in understanding. "The first one is to love God; the second, to love your neighbor as yourself. That's paraphrasing, granted, but here's the thing -- that second is essentially, 'treat others as you would like to be treated.' And /every/ religion contains that admonition at its core, in some language or another." She goes to sip at her espresso, looks down at her already-empty cup, and frowns. "Do you have anywhere to be, or may I take you and your friend to dinner?"

Again, there's that little squirming sensation Grimm feels inside her at the comment of loving God. It passes once the conversation moves on. She gets caught off guard at the dinner invite. "Hm? Oh. Well." She glances Porter's way. "Maybe...? I'm not sure. His family's probably expecting him for dinner."

Porter achieves coffeehood! He heads back to the table, now that his refreshed Elixir of All Things is in hand. "What's that? Dinner?" He blinks and pulls out his device to check the time. "Is it that late already?" Nope, of course it isn't. His still says it's 00:00, and it's even blinking! He's got plenty of time!

Magda chuckles, and tilts her head, looking at Porter. "Check the wall clock if you need to," she (mildly) teases him.

"Not just yet. But we were just invited to dinner if we're free," Gabrielle smiles at Porter.

"Oh!" Porter looks between the two. "Well, I'm free. Just have to see if I'm available. What about you two?"

Magda smiles impishly. "As I'm doing the inviting, one could presume that I'm available."

Grimm shrugs her shoulders at Porter's question. "I could be free."

"Ok, cool." Porter sits back down. "I'm good. As long as I'm home by 10." He chuckles, then pauses before adding. "...and I remember to grab some milk and eggs from the store on the way back."

Magda chuckles. "By ten? Perhaps you'd best call your family and let them know you'll be missing dinner, then." She stands, though, and gestures the two onwards -- or rather, outwards.

Grimm finishes nibbling her bread and looks to Porter, then back to Magda with a smile that says she knows something. "That should be quick."

Porter grins and taps his temple. "She already knows. My wife, I mean. She pretty much knows everything I do. And everything she knows, which is way more." Which may be how he got the shopping list, too.

Magda tilts her head to one side, then nods slightly. "All right. I confess I don't use automobiles much any more; nor do I know anywhere likely to be able to get into at a moment's notice. So I turn to you two -- where shall we go? I can get us there together and," she pauses to eye Porter, "accident-free."

Grimm stuffs her book into her messenger back. "I'm easy, food-wise," says the goth girl as she shoulders her bag.

Porter holds up his hands. Not quite defensively and more placating or apologetically. "Hey, it's Ok. I get it. Though it seems to work better when I've got somebody with me. Dunno why. But, yeah, we can walk or whatever. Where? Um... what's everybody hungry for? I'm pretty easy, too."