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[center][color=silver][h1] The Meet Up [/h1][/color]

[h2]Goodnight[/h2][/center]

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Zack gave a massive grin and slapped Zephyr on the back as he finished his sentence, the studs on his ratty fake leather jacket practically jingling with the movement.

"Yeah you fuckin' did, big guy! That was totally [i]wicked![/i] My man Zeph, with the fuckin' volcanic biceps over here! We got all sorts of tricks, don't we bud? Fuckin', rock skin, 'n' shit!"

Sam was a little more demure.

"If I'm right, that guy on fire was meant to be here with us too right now. We were planning on using all four seats, I guess he just... chose the wrong exit." He swallowed, hard, and for an exceptionally brief moment his gaze drifted, focusing on something far off in the distance. "Poor guy." He said, finally, after a moment had passed.

Jan shivered visibly, eyes widening, as Matthew mentioned the centipede again. Míra clearly noticed, and gave Matthew a little glare, before leaning down  a little to talk to Jan.

"Hey, Jan, could you maybe do me a favour and go grab some water for-" she paused, mouth still open, as she noticed Mike's mossy hands, "- uh... for later? You can tell that lady over there that Míra sent you, she knows me."

Jan nodded dumbly as she too noticed Mikey Mossboy, before gradually wandering off in the vague direction of one of the Violet Underground staff.

"Mike."

"Uh, yes Mira?" He rubbed his wrist, dropping little bits of moss on the floor in front of him as he met her gaze.

"What happened to your hands."

"Lost em." He said. "I had one too many with the ol' magic, and they all but dropped right off. Our party guest turned out to have some neat tricks though, and..." He held up his hands - one formed of soft, damp moss, the other a woven tissue of root and vine. Mike gave a confused, lopsided smile, and shrugged emphatically with his not-hands.

"Right." Míra replied, eventually. "Where is she?"

"She's takin' a piss." Mark added bluntly.

"Thanks, wasn't askin' you though, Zuckowitz."

"Hey, no problem Lieutenant." Mark threw his hands up in mock surrender, and gave her a grin that didn't reach his cheeks - let alone his eyes. "Yo, Mike, I'm gonna grab some coffee. You want any?" He continued, turning and walking away from the conversation.

"Naw, I don't go for instant, thanks though." Mike replied, before shrugging at Míra. "That centipede shit though, that sounds pretty wild."

For a little while, general conversation resumed. People said things, they listened to eachother, and interrupted eachother.

Only the perceptive would have noticed that Anastasia kept silent, staring at the floor, eyes wide whenever they were open and clenched whenever they were shut - until she eventually left, as silently as she'd stayed.

"The hands are impressive, Mike. I don't think I've ever seen anyone get anything, uh, replaced." Míra eventually commented.

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