The Inkpot Taking It All In

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey had spent the day at the police station, an orientation day of sorts. Newton's station presented itself as the Grand Central of Easthaven's police stations, with a never-ending flood of activity. It took longer than expected, but she finally had what she needed. She had clipped her badge and weapon to her belt and carried her crisp new uniforms in her bag. Her beat was going to be in Upper Fens, and she wasn't complaining. It was close enough to where she lived in Lower Fens. She knew the area to be an upper-class neighborhood and wondered what kind of activity she would see there.

It had taken much longer than she thought at the station, and despite having a cup there, she desperately needed a good cup of coffee. Police station joe was not cutting it. Still so new to Easthaven, she took out her phone and looked for a coffee shop. One popped up in Upper Fens, and she got excited at the idea of exploring what would be her new stomping ground. Tightening the straps of her bag, she headed for the subway.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked into The Inkpot. The smell of the coffee consumed her, and she inhaled deeply. The shop was quaint, with large windows and small tables scattered about. It doubled as a bookstore, and Hailey fell instantly in love with its charm.

Hailey approached the counter, where a barista with a friendly smile greeted her. "Welcome to The Inkpot! What can I get for you today?"

"I'll have a large Americano, black, please," Hailey replied, glancing around the cozy space. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with an eclectic mix of titles. She noticed a group of people in the corner, engrossed in a lively discussion about a book.

As she waited for her drink, Hailey felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. This place, with its inviting atmosphere, seemed like the perfect spot to unwind after her shifts. The barista handed her the coffee. "That'll be $4.60, please." Okay, so maybe she wouldn't come here every day, she thought. She paid and took her coffee to a small table by the window, maneuvering around occupied tables.

Hailey pulled out her phone and started browsing through the latest news, but she kept looking up and taking in the scene. She observed the people in the shop and the ones passing by on the sidewalk outside. She wondered what challenges and adventures awaited her in Upper Fens. For now, she was content to enjoy her coffee and the cozy ambiance of The Inkpot, knowing that this was just the beginning of her journey in Easthaven.

[Max Kuryakin]

Outfit

The little bell above the Inkpot's door jingled as Max pushed through, hitching his textbooks and computer a little more firmly in his grip. He swept his eyes over the interior, finding he hadn't quite beat out the afternoon crowd, but it wasn't as packed as it could be. Plenty of free tables for him to knock his head against his textbook in peace. The degree he was working on was just two years, an associate's, but he needed it to settle in properly at the fire station. Make that career shift stick.

"Hey Sarge!" A call from the counter had him turning his attention to the barista, Max huffing a laugh. Wear your old army training shirt once and they never let you forget it. "What're you having?"

“The biggest cup of coffee you've got,” he answered, stepping up to the till and using his free hand to get his wallet out of his pocket. The barista chuckled, arching an eyebrow at the books he was carrying, a silent acknowledgement that he planned on hanging around for a bit. “You know how I like it.” The advantage of being something of a regular. A bit out of his way, but he didn't mind catching the T or jogging over if it meant good coffee.

He was already digging out the cash he needed, handing it over and tucking a dollar in the tip jar. The barista told him it'd be a minute, smiling as they went to get it brewed, leaving Max to step to the side and wait. He spent a moment juggling the things he had in his hands, trying to get his wallet back in his pocket, but couldn't save his notebook from slipping out of his grip and falling, bouncing away from him.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, wondering if he should give up on the table in the back.

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey looked out the window, engulfed in her people-watching. Her eyes darted from one person to the next, taking in every detail and not paying attention to the orientation of her coffee lid to her lips. Coffee dribbled down her chin and she tried to catch it in her free hand. Setting down her coffee, she did a quick glance to see if anyone noticed her less-than-graceful coffee drinking abilities. She stood and moved to the front to retrieve a napkin.

There was a station with milk, sugar, stir sticks, and napkins. She grabbed a napkin or five and wiped her mouth. At the counter, a man was juggling a stack of books in his hands when one of the notebooks fell. Hailey closed the two-step distance and scooped it up, her dog tags slipping out of her shirt in the process. She held the notebook out to the man. "Here you go."

He had no hands free to take it, and to make things more difficult, his coffee order was ready. The barista set the cup down with a "Coffee, Sarge."

Hailey gave him a smile. "You've got a lot going on there. Can I take this," she held up the notebook "...and your coffee to your table?" She turned to survey the shop just as a couple took the last table. "Well, there's room at my table," she said, turning back to him. "I'm leaving soon anyway. Want to join me?"

[Max Kuryakin]

As a woman bent over to pick up his fallen notebook, he spotted the shine of the dog tags slipping out from where they'd been tucked under her shirt. He took note, even if he was preoccupied with finally getting his wallet back into his pocket, using his free hand to balance the stack as she offered the notebook back to him. He offered her a smile, thankful, just as the barista announced his coffee was ready.

Another huffed laugh as he glanced at the barista, who just grinned at him before she left him to deal with his full hands and the woman who still had his notebook. Her suggestion had Max's eyes flicking to the last table at the front getting snapped up and he let out a slight sigh, although his mouth was still curved into a smile. There were probably tables in the far back, amongst the bookshelves and more private booths, but he was better off quitting while he was ahead.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright, if you're offering,” he acquiesced, tipping his head down in a mild show of embarrassment, although the crooked smile and his eyes still meeting hers told that his ego hadn't taken much of a hit. Had to take it all in good humour, after all. He picked up said coffee, holding his stack close to his side, finally steady, and gestured to the table by the window, catching the trailing scent of the woman leading towards it, as he stepped forward. “I've got hands enough for my coffee, but you're over there, right?”

Max hadn't been paying attention closely enough to spot her on his way in, but standing next to her, catching the smell of her shampoo, soap, and/or perfume above the strong scents of coffee grounds and sugary pastries, he could retrace her steps. It helped that it was the only table without a body occupying one of the seats nearby, so it was the only choice to go for.

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey liked helping people; she always had. She was more than willing to give the shirt off her back if someone needed it more than she did, even if that someone didn't deserve it. It had gotten her burned in the past, but she still kept doing it. So the second she saw that the man had too much in his hands and nowhere to sit, she wanted to help, even though offering to share your table with a stranger might be a little weird. "Way to be a weirdo, Hailey," she thought to herself.

She maneuvered her way back to her table, and the man followed soon thereafter. She watched as he got settled into the open seat, setting down his books and finally freeing his hands. She took a sip of her coffee, ensuring to align the lid to her lips correctly this time. "What are you studying?" she asked before realizing she hadn't even introduced herself. "I'm Hailey, by the way." She offered him a handshake. "And I hope it wasn't weird offering to share the table. My family always tells me I'm friendly to a fault." She paused.

Hailey had learned to read men in the Army, and she was really good at it. The Army trained her for the enemy outside the walls; they didn't train her for the enemy within the walls. That she had to do on her own. She couldn't always trust her "brothers" to keep their hands to themselves. As she looked over the man, she didn't sense anything threatening about him, and for that, she was happy. She entertained the idea of making her first Easthaven friend.

[Max Kuryakin]

As Max stepped over to her table, already lifting his coffee for a sip, she stepped past him to get to it first, slipping into her seat and answering the question of which one was free for him without him needing to check. A moment after she'd settled, the werewolf slid into the unoccupied seat, putting his books down as he took another sip from his coffee. The smell of the grounds filled his sensitive nose, the only thing he could pick up for a split second before he lowered the cup and all the other ambient scents filtered in. Dominant was the woman's scented products, being closest, and then more coffee, before the trails of anyone who'd passed the door in the last half-hour all mingled together in a miasma of scent that barely smelled of anything at all beyond sensation. The curse of enhanced senses.

He flicked his eyes up from his coffee when she spoke, licking his lips as he lowered the cup and put it down on the table as well. When she followed immediately with an introduction, Max chuckled, moving into a mild shake of his head as she elaborated, the social embarrassment of putting yourself out there coming hot on the heels of a thoughtful offer.

“I'm Max, and I don't think it's weird. The only choice, really, during the lunch rush,” he reassured, knowing he'd asked to share the unoccupied half of a table at coffee shops before when it was jam-packed. It was just a flip of the script to be offered it. He shifted his hand to tap his books. “And it's fire science, what I'm studying.”

[Hailey Watts]

"Firefighter," Hailey said, acknowledging. "How long have you been doing that? How's the rapport between firefighters and cops?"

She reached down and unclipped her badge from her belt, flashing it quickly to Max over the table but not overtly enough for anyone else to see. Just as swiftly, she tucked it away. "I'm brand new, not even a day-old cop yet, and new to Easthaven for that matter," she said.

"But I ask because I know in some towns, the two sides can step on each other's toes. I hope that's not the case here. I'm not a fan of navigating egos," she added.

Hailey's phone vibrated on the table, and she looked down to see who was calling her. Her screen lit up with a picture of her and her Army sister, full battle rattle, in 140-degree heat, standing next to an MRAP in the middle of Iraq. She smiled and picked up the phone. "Just a sec," she said to Max, turning to sit in the chair sideways and pressing the phone to her outside ear.

"Hey, what's up?... Say again?... Okay, that's not a problem..." she continued, her voice warm as she spoke to the caller, glancing back at Max with a smile.

"Repeat" over the radio means repeat the attack. If you didn't hear something, it's "say again." Hailey's vocabulary was littered with military jargon, and she held on to it like a memento from her time in service.

"Sounds good, we'll get it squared away. Okay, okay, bye." She hung up the phone and turned back to Max. "Sorry if I don't answer; she just keeps calling. Sisters," she said with an eye roll and a grin.

[Max Kuryakin]

The woman–Hailey–made the correct assumption that Max was a firefighter with that information, and he inclined his head in a quiet affirmative. He'd lifted his coffee for a sip when she started asking questions, mouth occupied so he couldn't answer immediately. Still, she was moving to show something at her belt, sharp eyes catching the flash of a familiar badge. Some context as to why she was interested in the possible feuds between the EFD and EPD. Max grinned at hearing she was brand spanking new to town, remembering when he'd been in that position.

As she elaborated some more, Max's grin slipped into a smirk, the coffee cup dipping low as he prepared to ask–maybe if she was expecting him to razz her immediately–but Max caught the hum of electronics a split second before her phone buzzed. When she excused herself, Max gave her another incline of his head, content to wait as he sipped his coffee and flipped open his notebook. He didn't try to eavesdrop, but sitting next to her it was difficult not to hear it. The voice of the person who'd called was clear on the other end, even if her voice was distorted through the phone.

Eyes on his notebook, Max couldn't help smiling faintly at the familiar lingo that he'd more or less set aside when he'd slipped into civilian life. Hot on the heels of that was that near-painful wistfulness as she signed off, citing 'sisters' to him. Glancing up, he gave her a wry smile, trying not to think about how anyone from his squad couldn't call him up randomly to sort out a problem, he shrugged off her apology.

“Don't worry about it. Good to keep in touch, right?” He said, pushing the notebook aside as it looked like they might keep talking, lifting his coffee cup to give her a playful wink over the lid before he drank.

[Hailey Watts]

When Hailey finally wrapped up the call, she looked over at Max. He gave her a wry smile, one that seemed to carry a mix of happiness and sorrow, though she couldn't quite pin down why. "Yeah, it is," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The novelty of the situation was manifesting as nervous energy, making her feel more exposed than she was comfortable with.

The coffee shop buzzed with life. A steady stream of people flowed in and out, their conversations merging into a constant hum that filled the air. The noise was almost comforting in its familiarity, yet it also had a distracting edge.

Hailey leaned back in her chair, trying to appear more relaxed than she felt. "So, we were talking about... EFD and EPD," she began, her tone shifting to something more casual, though the curiosity in her eyes remained. "Any pointers?"

She hoped her question came across as nonchalant, but she couldn't hide how eager she was for guidance. The truth was, she was more intimidated by the big city than she had anticipated and wanted to make sure she got off on the right foot.

[Max Kuryakin]

Strike (Pheromone charm) 8 passes, triggers mental magic Contested roll

Max wasn't sure what it was–them being strangers? Her phone call reminding her of people who didn't come home, just like him? Something else?–but Hailey looked a little unsettled or nervous. The werewolf gave her a more reassuring smile, spotting her effort to look more relaxed. He decided not to read too much into it, knowing that she was dealing with a new city, a new job, and apparently getting hounded to help someone out in the middle of it all.

He couldn't help the unconscious reaction to her emotions, a creature of instinct in many of his responses. Hailey's uncertainty triggered his pheromones, adding a layer of calming and reassuring chemosignals over his relaxed outward expression, subtly suggesting to those caught in them to trust him a measure more. Max didn't even realise he was doing it, new to his evolving abilities, figuring things out step by step. It was subtle enough to be unnoticeable by both the intended target and the werewolf.

“Yeah, the first pointer is to not take it personally,” he shared, cocking his head and giving her a crooked grin. He went on to elaborate, hopefully reassuring any worries she might have. “There's mutual razzing, but it's all in good fun. You'll probably have heard worse in the... army, right?” At least that was true in Max's service, a truly creative string of insults from people he'd have died for if given the chance. He thought she was probably army, based on the slang he'd heard. “But when push comes to shove there's nothing but respect between us, I wouldn't worry too much about it.”

[Hailey Watts]

Contested Strike (Iron Will) 1 pass vs. 8, failed

The deep breath worked wonders, almost shockingly so. Hailey knew all about the power of breath—she practiced yoga and meditation daily—but this time, the calm that swept over her felt almost magical, like it reached deeper than usual.

She was glad to hear the services respected each other. A little friendly razzing was fine by her as long as everyone remembered they were on the same team when it mattered. She’d seen the damage egos could do when they got in the way of protecting and serving.

"Army, yup," she confirmed with a nod. "After eight years, I'm sure I’ve heard it all."

She glanced over with a playful smile. "How about you, Sarge?" she asked, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "I’m guessing that's not your last name."

[Max Kuryakin]

He was happy to see her relax a measure, unaware of whatever influence he had on it. He was hoping she was finding her stride, getting comfortable. As they eased into talking about the thing they knew they had in common, even if they hadn't directly acknowledged it, he thought the common ground might be helping as well.

Max chuckled, shaking his head, as she brought up the nickname he'd unfortunately ended up with at the coffee shop. He'd forgotten how they'd dug it out of him, but he could probably blame Dune. “No, it's not,” he confirmed ruefully, and he couldn't blame her for being curious even if a lot of his service was stuff he couldn't talk about, for more reasons than the obvious. “But I was a sergeant. Army, with the 10th Group.”

[Hailey Watts]

"Damn," the word slipped out before Hailey could catch it, and she straightened up, just a touch. "I know it's cringe when people say this; it always makes me really uncomfortable, but... thanks for your service." Her voice caught slightly, a lump forming in her throat as she pushed the words out.

There was a quiet respect in her eyes as she met his gaze. She might have been part of the same Special Operations Command, but Psychological Operations wasn't exactly the tip of the spear. Some of her guys liked to think they were on par with the elite, but Hailey knew better. That distinction belonged to the Green Berets—like the one sitting across from her.

"Bragg then? Wasn't it a blast?" she added with a hint of sarcasm, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max's smile turned wryly amused when she defied her opinion of what was cringe, but he agreed at least partially with her. He didn't enjoy it when people said it to him, finding it uncomfortable, like she did, but he knew people had good intentions when they did. Not quite cringe, even if he would've preferred something less impersonal, less automatic each time a veteran was in hearing range. He had his issues beyond that, too, but that was between him and his long-dead squad.

Like every other time, Max couldn't think of what to say in reply, but she didn't wait for one anyway, true to her word about not liking it herself. He could appreciate it, as the moment passed without making anything awkward. What she steered the conversation towards had Max huffing a laugh, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“And then some,” Max tacked on, just as sarcastic as his smile curved into a smirk before he prodded for a little more information. She hadn't given her unit, but she mentioned Fort Bragg like she'd gone through the training at Camp Mackall herself, or tried to. “Is that the voice of experience I hear?” He cocked his head as he asked, letting his smirk slip to something more friendly.

[Hailey Watts]

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, her mind drifting back to the place. Government buildings had a certain look—utilitarian and stark. Fort Bragg was no exception, with its sprawling base of drab concrete and endless rows of identical barracks. She had spent years navigating its mess halls, PX, and firing ranges, each area marked by a distinct blend of military efficiency and monotony.

“I went through training there for Basic and PsyOps. That’s the Army’s tactical term for propaganda. It wasn’t exactly what I expected.” She let the memory settle for a moment before adding, “Bragg has a way of leaving its mark on you.” Hailey glanced down at her coffee, then up at Max, her expression softening. “But the coffee here? It’s a definite upgrade.”

[Max Kuryakin]

Max nodded even as she explained, familiar with it, although mostly in the abstract. It wouldn't be a stretch to guess he'd been involved in some of the stuff they'd set up, but it wasn't as if he'd been told either way. In the end they operated in completely different fields, even if he could imagine intersections. As she continued, the werewolf let out a low hum of agreement, sipping his coffee.

“They don't have to try hard to beat it,” Max said with another little chuckle as he lowered his cup back to the table, although maybe PsyOps got better coffee than they had. Thinking about it had him thinking about everyone else, still alive and still fucking clueless. Not so much these days. “Sometimes I miss it, but I'm pretty sure that's the rose tinted glasses talking.” His smile twisted into something more wry, and he wasn't only talking about the coffee.

[Hailey Watts]

Still feeling the calm from earlier, Hailey grew reflective. Her feelings about the Army came in waves. When she first got back from Iraq, she hated it. Then, for a long while, she blocked everything out. Now, she missed it, probably even more so since she couldn’t go back in. Her gaze grew distant as her thoughts drifted. “Sometimes I miss it too,” she admitted.

She imagined Max had seen a lot more than she had—that was the nature of being a Green Beret. Still, she was glad he had at least some 'rose-colored glasses' to look through, that it hadn’t been all bad. She wouldn’t pry into the darker parts; those were the things you kept hidden, buried deep. Instead, you talked about the lighter moments, the things that made you seem tougher than you felt inside. Like how the desert was a hellscape or the time a private left his rifle unattended, and she replaced it with a two-by-four he had to carry around.

Trying to keep her tone light, she asked, “Spend any time in the sandbox?”

[Max Kuryakin]

It was hard to miss that faraway look on her face and, despite himself, Max wondered what kind of things she thought of as worthy of being missed. Hopefully, her memories of the army weren't as tainted by all the ways it'd gone wrong at the end, like his. He could imagine his situation was somewhat unique, or rare at least, but he wasn't self-involved enough to think there wasn't plenty of mundane shit that felt just as bad as what he'd ended up doing, blackouts be damned.

As Hailey continued, keeping her tone light, Max realised that this chapter of his life felt a bit like a minefield. He was worried about stepping on something he'd react badly to, which was probably why the shrinks had been so worried about him, way back when. Turned out repression only worked when you didn't have a dreamwalker shaking loose some real gnarly memories.

“Some, yeah,” he confirmed, giving a one-shouldered shrug, maintaining the crooked smile. Habit had him stopping short of sharing anything more. He didn't have any cute stories that came to mind. “Bounced around a bit, you know, North Africa, Europe. You?”

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey noticed the hesitation in Max’s response. She could tell he had his own complex history with the Army, and she appreciated that he kept his tone light.

“North Africa and Europe, huh?” Hailey said, nodding thoughtfully. “That sounds like quite a journey.”

“I turned twenty-one in Iraq. I feel like I was just a kid—no clue what I was doing, but maybe twenty is too old to call a kid. I was certainly old enough to enlist and deploy.”

She paused, taking a breath as she let the day’s events settle in. It had been a significant day—onboarding with EHPD, meeting Emily, and now Max. “You’re the second friend I’ve made today, Max. First Emily, and now you. It’s been a good introduction to Easthaven,” she said with a genuine smile.

[Max Kuryakin]

Bobbing his head, wordlessly confirming that it had, indeed, been a journey. Not a comfortable one, in a lot of respects, and he'd left with a hairy souvenir, but that sort of shit wasn't coffee conversation. Max let the conversation move on, lifting his coffee cup to his mouth to hide his smile at her observation about what qualified as a kid. Max thought anyone under twenty-five once you hit thirty kinda all looked and sounded like kids, even if they might be old enough to risk their lives for their country.

He kept all that to himself, the mouth full of coffee a good excuse as Hailey kept talking. The conversation shifted to the day, rather than the past, and the werewolf was quietly happy they were leaving it behind. “Two friends in a day, huh? Lucky you,” he commented, lowering his cup to grin crookedly. “Sounds like Easthaven's treating you right.”

[Hailey Watts]

“Yeah, I guess it has,” Hailey replied. “Today’s felt like a tangle of nerves, but that’s just me making it harder on myself. Stepping back, though, it turned out alright.”

As the coffee shop began to quiet down, the evening settling in around them, she realized they had been talking for almost an hour. She still needed to fit in her run and eat something substantial for the first time that day.

“It’s really nice running into another veteran,” she said, her enthusiasm returning. “Would you want to get together again sometime for coffee? Or!”

She reached into her bag, pulling out a slightly crumpled flyer. “There’s a Renaissance Fair.”

Grabbing a pen from her bag, she wrote her number on a napkin and slid it over to Max. “I gotta run—literally,” she added with a grin.

As she stood, gathering her belongings and her empty cup to toss on the way out, she looked at him. “Text me if you want to go, or not, whatever,” she said, waving goodbye.

Just as she turned to leave, she stopped in her tracks, suddenly turning back to face Max. Closing the distance quickly, she blurted, “Shit, yeah, I forgot that not everyone’s in my head. I just slid my number on a napkin to you... but... I just meant it as friends, I’m gay...”

She offered him a wary smile, a mix of embarrassment and sincerity. “Cool, good talk. Bye again!” With a wave, she headed out, probably leaving Max dazed by her strangeness. But what could she do? It's just who she was.