"Gimme cake, Grumpy or I swear to God I'm gonna take a brick and bang on dem pipes until you off yourself in your misery and me and your creeper of a brother get evicted" Lala said serenely to a Sander that was currently sinking his nails in the wood of one of their tables while imagining several creative ways one could dispose of a body.

And that was how Layla was expecting the man supposed to meet her—with two slices of the most amazing tiramisu. Sporting a short platinum bob hairstyle and dressed in her best neutral, proper clothes Lala set to waiting. As always her timing was awful, she was either too late or too early. This time it was the latter, and sitting there staring at the perfect piece of Italian goodness was torture, so she jerkily grabbed a pencil from her bag and set to doodle on the napkin. She got bored of that soon enough and her mind took its usual journey into crazy gibberish as she pondered on the man's name. Johann Storm. That was so terrible it wasn't even funny. Who would name their children Johann?! Lala was sure that if the dude was raised in the muggle world, he got beaten on a regular basis as a child. Poor dude. She scribbled down the name in a messy, barely legible handwriting and snorted to herself. "Johaaaannn" she said out loud very softly and snorted again.

Under the first scribble appeared another one saying Jo-ham. And under that, another one. Ham Storm. Hamster!!! She laughed out loud and shook her head, furiously scribbling over that last one and writing a small WTF? next to it. Then she stopped suddenly and her face slowly expanded into a big creepy smile—kind of demented, actually. She slowly, ever so slowly, drawing each letter carefully, added another name under the scribble. Bacon Storm. Now that was an epic name. Absolutely epic! It could be a superhero name. It would kind of be like Storm meets Rainy with a chance of meatballs and his eyes would go foggy red as he summoned storms of bacon! Bacon was deadly, in that no sane person would say no to it. Ever. Death by bacon overdose! That was so awesome. So she set to doodle a small superhero with hair made out of bacon strips, a wine colored suit with hues of white and striped tights. It was so ridiculous Lala snorted so hard half the tables turned to give her dubious looks.

"Rude" she muttered as she glared at each an every one of them, before going back to her drawing. Soon enough she thought the light had gotten dimmer, so she drew her eyebrows together and slowly raised her head to see what went wrong, only—

"Bacon Storm!" she exclaimed loudly as she jerked into a standing position, knocking her glass of water all over herself as she flailed for a couple of seconds, only then realizing what she had just said. She froze in place, arms wildly thrown in the air, as her eyes grew bigger and bigger and finally she let out a pathetic little smile, before starting to uncurl her body into a human position (as opposed to gorilla or terribly awkward monkey, anyway). "Shite" she said still smiling pitifully to herself as she spelled herself dry, with swift movements. Nobody needed to see her sad excuse of a wand.

"Heh" she gave a sort of half-whimper half-laugh. "Errr. Mister... Storm? I suppose?" she inquired as awkwardly as ever. "Please, take a seat" she gestured at the other chair with a glare that suggested it had mortally offended her. "Unless it's wet. Then you can forget all about it. That would be rude" she said frowning. She finally sat back down in her seat, before getting up again as if burned and shoving her hand in the man's face. "Lala!" she said grinning before shaking her head furiously and mouthing what. "No! I mean Layla—Layla Styles" she finally said in a clipped, irritated voice. This day was going so well... so, so well. "I am so goddamn happy I could shit rainbows" she thought to herself, while replacing her frustrated face with a a smile that said I'm miserable.

"Why does life keep teaching me lessons I have no desire to learn?" she muttered as she slowly sat back down in her chair, with a defeated slump to her shoulders and the face of someone whose puppy had just gotten run over. Repeatedly.

The letter had intrigued him. Styles was clearly a creative mind, and the desperate attempt to ask him to meet her to discuss literature had been hard to pass up, even if she was a complete stranger. Alohomocha was a neutral location that he knew well enough to be sure she wasn't a complete looney...

"Bacon Storm!"

A glass of water shot in the air, arms above her head, platinum blonde hair, eyes like saucers that seemed to be staring straight through him at first glance, he had no trouble identifying the woman who must be Layla Styles amongst the other coffee drinkers.

Past the initial alarm of the greeting, which stopped him in his tracks and put his weight instinctively on his back foot to retreat, Johann's expression broke into a grin.

"Errr. Mister... Storm? I suppose?"

"No, most certainly Bacon Storm to you, and the rest of the cafe." He greeted warmly, making it to her table and extending  hand to shake before taking a seat, ignoring the few drops of water that remained, he left his coat on for the time being, not sure if this would be a very short consultation or one worthy of him buying the coffees and staying a while.

"Johann, but you can have that as a new nickname." He explained more quietly, emphasising the phrasing of his name as Yo-han for clarity. "Thank you for your letter, you had an interesting proposition. Books wasn't it?"

He gave Layla his undivided attention, finding her oddly fascinating for her mannerisms, mutterings and her most attention-grabbing greeting. Still, it was always better to be greeted by some meat-product name than to be shunned for other reasons.

"Do you have something I could see?" Johann asked the witch smoothly, getting down to business, resting his fingertips on the tabletop. His eyes trailed across the table to the glass which had been upset moments before.

"Coffee?" He added, looking up to Styles and letting his boyish grin return to his features, raising a finger to point at her glass of water.

She smiled cautiously, before turning her face into a full grin. "Okay, Mister Bacon" she giggled, before snorting loudly, stopping in her tracks to cover her mouth. This was ridiculous. "I'm sorry... my mind—" she said gesticulating wildly to her head, rotating her index finger next to her temple "it's a monster with a thousand tentacles, or a black hole... or related to Moffat, I don't even knoooow" she moaned, underlining her particular sort of crazy with another snort as she pointed at the napkin on the table. "It does things—connections that have absolutely no logic for the world at large" she said defeated. "I should never be bored. A bored me is a dangerous me" she continued with dread in her voice, shivering with her entire body as she made a disgusted noise.

"Books, yes. See, definitely" she finally said, flailing around for her bag with her brows drawn together in frustration. Once she located the offending accessory she set to dig around it for the messy, crumpled copy of manuscript. There were coffee stains on it and ridiculous little comments on the right, from Lala's pitiful attempts at figuring the thing out with Google translate. "Aha!" she finally exclaimed as she extracted the stack of loosely bound papers from her Pandora's box of a bag and practically threw it on the table. "That... thingamajig is either written in gibberish, either hides some sort of creepy satanic ritual hidden under a spell of gibberish" she said eying the manuscript with all the hate she could summon, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Coffee?" she asked confused raising her eyes to look at Johann, then at the table and finally jerking in a half-standing position. "Yes! Coffee! Coffee place! Totally makes sense" she blabbered signaling for Sander with a deadly glare. "Cake—there's cake, she eyed the plates suspiciously. "I hope you like Tiramisu and I hope it is not of the slightly wet variety. Also, coffee's on the house today. Grumpy McGee has us covered" she said sitting back in her seat with a positively cackling sort of snort as she noticed Sander's particularly awful mood, judging by the way his eyebrows practically met his eyelashes.

A manuscript flapped onto the tabletop, and her flustering didn't stop there, following with gibbering about tiramasu.

"That's very kind," Johann replied, and gave a nod of recognition to Sander. The two of them knew each other for customer and staff in the place. Johann would often stop off here when in the Alley, or on the way to visit friends during opening hours.

He slid his coat from his shoulders and took a proper seat, coffee established. His long pale fingers reached for the manuscript and he disappeared behind it for a moment, keen blue eyes inspecting the language and Layla's scribbles.

"Not gibberish, no," Johann confirmed, "just not brilliantly written Dutch." He looked over the top of the paperwork to Layla. "How have you been trying to translate it? You have quite the gist of it, but I suspect the spelling and grammar mistakes have been quite the headache."

He flicked over a few more pages and shook his head before putting it back down on the table.
"Do you just get the first draft or is this the edited text?" He asked, tapping a finger to the cover, now looking intently at the artist.
"Because looks like I should be going directly to your employer to offer my services for that shoddy work." There was a pause and he lifted his hands to stop her a moment, "I mean, the author, not your notations - they were more than you could hope for."

His fingertips dropped back again and he smiled,
"So, once you've bribed me with coffee and cake, how can I be of service, Madam Styles?" 

"Dutch, yes" she nodded slowly, glaring at the satanic ritual as she curled her hands around her perfect cup of latte with a dash of cinnamon. Leon should be canonized for his coffee. "I wouldn't know, to be perfectly honest" she mused, raising her eyebrows and giving a little shrug. "The mistakes I mean. I have no idea how Dutch even works, to me that's just hieroglyphs, basically" she said straightening her finger around the cup to point at the crumpled set of papers. "Uhmmmm" she started, wrinkling her nose and leaving out a deep sigh. "There's the greatest muggle invention called the internet. It is basically everything one could and should wish from life" she said with a big smile on her face, sighing wishfully just once. "I'd marry it if I could" she mused getting lost in her own mind yet again.

"Anywho, what I mean is there's this service provided by the almighty Google, which is a company that does internet related thingies, that basically translates large chunks of text. Usually, incredibly poorly. As in, that translation is so crap you can tell from a hundred miles it's done by a machine" she scowled loudly, then took another fast sip of coffee. "Which is just what it is, there's this thing called a statistical machine translation where translations are generated on statistical models that are basically created from analyzing large chunks of unstructured bilingual texts" she said talking too fast, and waving one hand around. Thank Jeebus for Wikipedia and the sucker-of-time-and-life black hole it was.

"Basically it's kind of our version of translation spells, only quite a complete and utter fail. It does well with some languages, but usually the most common ones... French, German, Italian, Spanish and so on" she continued her rant. "I mean who even speaks Dutch outside of The Netherlands" she grimaced, before turning completely red and squirming in her seat. "I mean—you do. Obviously" she muttered softly, shaking her head at her own social inadequacy.

"The ranting—I'm sorry about it" she said seriously, looking a little embarrassed. "You know that thing in your brain that keeps you from saying things you shouldn't say? Yeah, well I don't have it" she rolled her eyes and gave a small snort. "You should tell me to shut up, else there's a mighty high chance I'll never stop" she grinned apologetically. "But, yes, supposedly that's the final version" she nodded. "And going to my employer might result in a headache and a complete waste of time. She has no idea what planet she lives on and she's a complete b—aaaaastard" she quickly redressed herself, looking around for some sort of divine intervention.

"Oh, Jeeze. No. Nope. Nooooez" she said dread etched all over her face as she tried to send a big fat no with her entire body. "Madam... Please, no. Never" she shook her head fervently with a pained expression. "Layla! Even better, just Lala, please" she explained seriously, still mentally cringing at being called that. "You know, I hoped I'd at least hit fifty before being called madam" she mused seriously before starting to giggle, throwing her head back.

Once she finally calmed down, she got into a more comfortable position, crossing her legs and set to explain her request. "I'm supposed to illustrate at least 20 pages of that thing, and I've been given some really short completely nonsensical lines to work with. Lines. I mean who can deduce anything in the bigger scheme of things from some lines?" she asked almost scandalized. "The author doesn't speak any English at all, so I'm not even having contact with her and the person that got me the gig is -like I've said- not very helpful or reliable. So—here I am" she shrugged, still irritatedly looking at the offending manuscript. "I need more than just a phrase in order to properly translate the words into a visual dimension."

"So... that's how I got to you, thanks to Broody McBrooderson" she finished with a smile, looking towards the kitchen.

"I know of it." Johann smiled, when she referred to the Internet, but let her go on, captivated.

"Belgium and Suriname, and some Caribbean nations speak it, but it is my mother's first language."

He lapsed into silence as she chattered, eyebrows raised, and lips curling with amusement. She reminded him a little of Adelia for the Muggle references and the enthusiasm, but Layla was very much more physically expressive.

"… that's how I got to you, thanks to Broody McBrooderson."

Johann's gaze slid in the direction she smiled in, and he took his cue.

"I'm flattered McBrooderson thought of me, otherwise we might never have met, Layla." He raised an eyebrow and prodded one long finger on the paperwork.

"Might take me … three, four days at least to translate the text and start to correct it, longer if it is in really poor shape. I've a few other jobs in besides the Ministry I'm afraid." He tapped a finger to his lips a moment thoughtfully,

"I can deliver it in chapters, might be more accurate if I were to do that, you can work on the earlier chapters while I continue my work."

There was an awkward pause, Johann was weighing up the likelihood that Styles was paid anything decent, decided he would de-prioritise her work for sure if one of his business clients called on him with a task. It wasn't often he had an opportunity to collaborate.

"I do have an hourly rate… but…" He waved a hand to dismiss it a moment, and added firmly but altogether kindly, "We'll come back to that if I remember."

Instead he settled a little less formally, leaning his forearms one over the other on the table and engaged her attention properly, if only to hope she stopped second guessing his thoughts on her, and let him observe what made her tick instead. New friends were so very interesting.

"Layla, how did you come by the likes of that for a living? Is this your usual trade?" He lowered his chin, intently watching her expression with that slightly too intense stare, "Is this really what you enjoy doing?"

"Heh, yes, he is useful sometimes" she said with a sketchy little smile. He was only worth keeping for his unnaturally awesome desserts, and his hilarious grumpiness, Layla thought most of the time. But, no matter how much both Sander and Lala tried to deny it, they were actually friends. Sort of. If you looked really hard...

"Oh! Sure, no, I completely understand. I'm in no rush whatsoever, the deadline is weeks away and Ministry work definitely trumps this silly little thing" she dismissed it with a flailing gesture of her hand. "And chapters works awesomely as well, I won't get sidetracked by the latter chapters, if there's nothign to distract me" she said apologetically, she always worked in such complete chaos. The tiny little silence that followed, only got more awkward as Johann talked next and Lala squirmed in her seat.

"Money..." she wrinkled her nose and let out a little sigh. "Might be a little problem? The fee itself is no problem, it's the..." she huffed and absentmindedly scratched along her jaw. "I have royalties coming at end of the month and I'm supposed to be paid for a commission in a few days. Soooo, uhmm, It would be really awesome if you could let me pay in two installments?" she said softer, with a pained sort of expression. "Heh" she moved her hand to the back of her head to twist a strand as she looked around the venue. "We artists, the starving before it is always sort of implied."

Layla visibly brightened at his next question. Money was always a rather uncomfortable topic of discussion with strangers, but talking about her occupation could keep Lala engaged for hours. "A class I took opened some doors, sort of and yes" she responded with a big grin to all three questions. "As far as my title would go I'm an illustrator, but I'm sort of a jack of all trades artist?" she explained vaguely not really sure herself. "I do illustrations, but also murals, concept designs, graphic media, tattoo designs—whatever falls in my lap! I've always loved art, took classes after classes, got into contests. That was before Hogwarts tho. At Hogwarts, I was in the Wizard Art Appreciation Club, but that turned bollocks as soon as I discovered the wonders of digital painting. Basically you draw on a computer with the help of this device, a graphic tablet, and a graphics editing program or painting software" she rambled, keeping her explanation vague and short, because where did you even start explaining that?

"And since wizard and graphic tablets really have nothing in common, I started doing some  DTP—errr, Desktop Publishing" she said with a confused expression, not really sure how to define DTP to a wizard, but waved it off and continued. "And some illustrating for the Howler. When I graduated, I knew this was what  I wanted to do. I'm not really cut out for the usual, normal job with hierarchies and set schedules and offices" she laughed rolling her eyes at just the thought of begin stuck in a cubicle for eight hours a day. "I already started illustrating in the muggle world, mainly concept art for video games, graphic novels—nerdy things, that are a bit of a passion. And the odd commission on various internet sites for artists. But, hey, I'm also a witch, so I got into this Enchantment in Painting class, that basically taught me how to blend my two... sides. I draw the muggle way, digital painting, on a computer and all that, print them nicely and then work charms into it that allow it to be the moving, magical paintings you would be more familiar with" she said with an arch of her eyebrows, and put her arms in her lap, realizing she'd been wildly gesticulating.

"At the end of my class I got referred to a young children literature author, and that's how the book illustration started" she shrugged and gave a lopsided smile. "I met Delia last year, at a publishing house and she's basically taken over most of of my illustration projects. Because I'm good and cheap" Lala said with a scowl. "She finds the shittiest possible projects and just shoves them in my lap, with no actual useful details and such. But, yeah, with no steady income, apart from the royalties that aren't all that much... I can't really pick and choose" she sighed, and realized her throat was awfully dry. She took a sip of her coffee and dragged her tiramisu in front of her, eying it with a predatory gaze.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I did warn you to shut me up" she laughed and stuck her fork into the cake with a miserable sort of expression. "What about you? Languages—passion or just something you have an inclination towards? Freelancing or on a payroll?" she asked before shoving the tiny little piece of heaven into her mouth.

Graphic tablets? What was she talking about, where they wax or stone with art on them? Publishing desktops? Although puzzled at the language, he listened intently, wondering that these things might be explained further and demonstrated at a later date if the arrangement was fruitful.

"No, not at all." Johann dismissed her apologies and wish for him to shut her up. "You're fascinating." He smiled boyishly, maintaining eye contact ever so slightly longer than would have been ordinarily polite.

"I'm on the Ministry payroll, well for the last year since I moved here, but I have a number of private clients which helps keep my mind occupied." He admitted, "I understand the feast and famine of freelancing, there's rarely steady work, a bit of teaching but normally it's long night with last minute, urgent pieces to be completed." He made a face and then shrugged. "Wouldn't have it any other way though, the payroll can get tedious."

He lifted his coffee to his lips and half closed eyes, long fingers cradling it and enjoying the warmth from the cup.

"Languages have always been part of life, brought up speaking German at home, French with my mother, and my father taught me English. My desktop is a bit different to yours, certainly - though I do admit I've been more recently introduced to elements of your world… the internet?" He looked to her for confirmation.

"I'd be curious to see those charmed images you mentioned, to see how they differ from paintings."

Lala froze in place, loaded fork at the entrance of her open mouth as she raised her eyes to actually look at Johann. She choked slightly when she noticed he was looking at her -intently nonetheless- and smiling this side of sheepish. She didn't blush at being called fascinating. She bloody hell did not.

"That's one word for it" she finally said more timidly than usual, smiling nervously, before clearing her throat and throwing him a big grin. "It's usually crazy bitch" she wagged her eyebrows as if that was something to be proud of "-which is merely the admission price to the amazing amusement park that is me." She dropped her fork on her plate and sprawled her arms away from her body, leaning her head down in a mock curtsy.

She nodded crazily completely in agreement with his assessment of the life of a freelancer. It was hard like hell, but well worth it to be your own boss in the end. "Howzzat?" she asked around a mouthful of cake, swallowing swiftly to explain herself. "Working for the Ministry, I mean. They all seem like no bs peeps... I'd much rather color in my pillow fort -yes, I have one- than play the responsible adult all day" she rolled her eyes and grabbed her coffee, mirroring his actions.

She almost spluttered her coffee everywhere at the mention of the internet. She quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped the drop that made its way to her chin, only to reveal a crazed grin when she removed the tissue. "The internet is the single most beautiful thing invented by humankind ever" she said with a dreamy sort of sigh and glee in her eyes. "If you ever need more input on the wonders of the internetz, do send me an owl. There's nothing more satisfying than welcoming another lost soul to the dark side—the dark cyber side, that is" she quickly rectified with a frown.

"Sure! I might have something on me, actually" she quipped, launching for her bag before stopping suddenly. She raised her eyes in horror and felt the start of a blush on her face, opening her mouth a few times and closing it without a word making it out. "But they're just sketches... and they're pretty silly. He he" she laughed halfheartedly. There were things in her sketchbook that better not be seen by anyone that was not a hardcore shipper of this fandom couple or the other. Not to mention—Nope. No. Noez. Better not go there. Lala was 500% done with her own enthusiasm...

Layla made Bacon Storm laugh. He chuckled at her good-naturedly with bright eyes. It was people like Styles who spiced up the day from paperwork and writing with his ink spattered hands to the curious conversation that he was sure would go into the night given half the chance.

"It fills the gaps. I'm rather fond of paperwork you see, so it doesn't bother me. I don't have a … pillow fort you see. More a fort of paperwork if given half the chance." That was one thing they were most definitely split on, her art and his academic focus.

His eyebrows shot up as she spluttered coffee everywhere, and he reached out as if to contemplate clapping her on the back to stop her from choking, but the hand remained in mid air a moment before returning to the table top, resting long fingers flecked with ink and papercuts upon the surface.

"Oh good, you see, when I do get on the internet it's normally under the beady eye of my flatmate, Colin, as it's his… computer and he's convinced I'll use my wand on it. The truth is I've become rather accustomed to not using my wand on arriving home, as my vault gets hit if I forget." He made a face, "I moved in with Colin you see, ordinarily I wouldn't be engaging in much of the Muggle world."

Johann shrugged away her lack of drawings, there was plenty of time for that another day instead, he was being polite, even if he was curious.
"Silly, well, it's only the concept, I'm not so concerned with the content if you're worried, but no trouble."

The German propped his elbow on the edge of the table and then his hand on his curled fingers, still studying her with that intense stare that would make many feel uncomfortable after a while (unintentionally on his part).

"Ah Layla, I have a feeling if I went out drinking with you, I'd not come home for a few days." He grinned, the coffee still in his hand, steaming through his black curls.

"Therefore, we should do that soon." He assured her, sipping and putting the coffee down between his hands again. If he wasn't so oblivious to how it all looked to another person, he might have been perceived as flirting with the younger witch, but he was glad they were getting on so easily, certainly.

"Wouldn't be a very fun fort, I reckon... Imagine waking up with papers stuck to—errr, various crevices in your body" she said, halfway into the phrase realizing there was shit you just didn't say out loud. But not for Layla Styles, while some things were better left unsaid, you can bet your sweet ass Lala was going to say them anyway. "And the ink..." she said, eyes dropping to his ink tainted finger with a fond little smile. Years ago, when she was still working with traditional media, she was covered in paint in places that made one wonder...

"Well, you see, a computer is like an extension of oneself, so it makes sense for some to be all rwar, no touchy" she explained, curling her hand in a claw and batting at the air aimlessly. "But—" she raised her cup to him, before taking a sip "here's to Colin and his philanthropic actions. He's a good man, if only for that" she smirked, sticking the tip of her tongue between her teeth, before chuckling for real. "But, if you'd like unsupervised time on ze internet, I can introduce you to Kitty, my lovely Macbook Pro" she cooed, grasping her hands together over her chest.

"Some other time, maybe if you come around to take Kitty for a spin, I can show you my portfolio, and maybe even walk you through the process" she said apologetically, with a tight little smile. "It's not rocket science, definitely, but it can be challenging" she mused going for the last bite of her tiramisu. She played with the fork in her mouth, suckling on it in what would've probably been a rather obscene gesture for the world at large, but not for Lala and her oral fixation. Shut up. It's not like that.

Lala's face visibly brightened as her hair slowly started elongating past her shoulders, and the small of her back, ending at her waist in big curls, each strand a different color of the rainbow. She arched an eyebrow and her lips curled in a lopsided smile, putting an elbow on the table to lean her head in her hand. She watched him with squinted eyes for a second before chuckling softly. "Oh, Mister Bacon, you don't know the half of it..." she said with a snort.

"Let the record show that the first hour of my seventeenth year was spent shooting tequila off of someone's cleavage and discussing the emotional integrity of werewolves" she said seriously, nodding and raising her eyebrows, still perplexed at the memory. She'd partied in Soho Friday night and ended up in Leeds on Monday. How even? She still didn't know the full story. "You may be a man of languages, kind sir, but my drunkenness level on a good day?" she asked in a high pitched voice, almost scandalized herself at the idea. "Fluent in old Norse, is what it is" she let out a half pitiful laugh at herself.

"So, Johann, if you think you're up for it, I'm game" she finally said with a big grin, quirking an eyebrow, daring him to actually go through with it. "But, you'll have to lose the stiff outfit" she added seriously. "When the shit hits the fan you don't wanna be wearing no shirt. Buttons fly off way too easily. Ties are fun tho, or could be" she continued with a completely shit-eating grin, faltering if only for a moment as she reviewed her life choices there and then. "I think it's gonna be hard to find a guy that won't take my consistent drinking as alcoholism" she snorted and shook her head waving everything off with both hands.

"… I can introduce you to Kitty, my lovely Macbook Pro."

Johann wasn't sure what this was, it sounded like a cat crossed with a Scottish book.

But he didn't dwell on it for a long time, instead he lost the power of speech momentarily between her sucking on the fork in her mouth and her hair changing colour.

"Oh Mister Bacon you don't know the half of it…"

"So I am seeing!" The wizard exclaimed.

He was left ever so slightly open-mouthed at her explanation.
"That sounds like nothing quite on earth, and I've seen quite a bit of it." He swallowed, still looking surprised, "earth that is."

He tugged the manuscript across to him again, but maintained eye contact with Layla.

"Say, I manage this, and we, er, make that a date?"

Without realising he'd implied a romantic date, Johann gathered the paperwork and slid it into his bag which was between them.

"I've no cleavage you can shoot tequila off, but I can discuss the emotional integrity of werewolves in depth - and I'll take a crack at Norse." Tragically missing the point once again.

"As long as you're not in a constant state of intoxication, I'm sure it isn't," he added, referring to alcoholism, "and each of us have our vices. Some are more social than others, shall we say." He drummed his fingers on the table top, pushing the thought of sleeping potions away as quickly as it had bubbled to the surface.

He looked as if he was about to bid her a hasty goodbye, but stopped, pondering on something she had said.

"So what would you have me wear for one of those nights then?" He asked, leaning forwards towards her and lowering his voice.

Lala merely smirked smugly at Johann's reaction, taking the opportunity to pass her hand through her tresses with a serene sort of smile and shrugged once, as it if was nothing quite out of the ordinary. Her partying was a bit extreme even for some party-animals, and Mister Bacon here didn't look much of one at all.. Then again, however she'd like to consider herself a sage, I've seen it all sort of person, Layla Styles did get surprised more often than she'd like to admit. FYI, tho, Lala had seen quite a lot...

"If there's something I never turn down, that's a party" she grinned brightly, mindlessly shoving a pen through the har she'd just twisted at the back of her neck. "Errr, except if I'm broke. OFC" she added vaguely with a bit of a frown. But she wouldn't be broke. Zero owed her his life for the hole in her floor, least he could do was lend her some money. You know... indefinitely. Finally noting the word date Lala flurried about for a second, opening her mouth and closing it, much like a fish, for a few seconds, only to quickly spout a lot of nonsense. Obviously. "Friends" she quipped out of nowhere. "I mean—you bring some friends, I bring some friends and... It's a party! He he" she tucked a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear. Layla Styles did not date.

Eying him funnily, with eyebrows drawn upwards in pleased surprise Lala shook her head and decided that yes, Bacon Storm could indeed discuss the emotional integrity of werewolves and could probably carry out a conversation in old Norse. "Tru dat, Johann. I've yet to meet a dude or gal without a vice" she said, just feeling the need to say something, even if it had absolutely no impacting contribution to the conversation.

He looked like he was about to leave, an awkward sort of silence dawning over them for just a couple of seconds, before Mister Bacon went and completely surprised her. Yet again. She laughed for just a moment, a tad nervously maybe, a rosy tint spreading on her cheeks and lowered her eyelashes over her eyes, just a fraction. "Oh, I don't know..." she seemed to be pondering over the answer for a second, leaning forward to cross her arms over the table. "How 'bout nothing?" she asked, Machiavellian sort of grin in place, a slight rise of her eyebrows joining it. "That would certainly lower the chances for... accidents" Lala continued in faux-seriousness.

"Nothing?" Johann replied, still with voice lowered, and his eyebrows shot up, but with her infectious smile and mischievous glint his surprise soon gave way to chuckling.

"True, that would be so very logical, but not very warm in winter. I'd expect everyone else to be wearing the Emperor's new clothes too for similar practicality."

He caught his bottom lip between his lips, mind busy imagining such a scene behind his eyes, the coffee drinkers around them losing their clothes in his skull cinema. Certainly not a gathering that Hannah would go do, but Colin, well, it would depend on all the pretty witches in attendance, and he'd have to consider the younger generations of his friends for further friends. His mind had reached the last table and was busily considering Layla disrobed in a fluster.

"I'll certainly consider it, Layla. Bacon to bare bottoms, what a meeting this has been." He extended his hand to her to shake, though his mind briefly thought to kiss her quite continentally on the cheek instead. Things had become ever so slightly awkward with the vision of her in the nude before him now planted in his mind.

"I'll be in touch, thank you for ... all this."

In for a penny, in for a pound. As he shook her hand, he leaned over, planted a quick peck on one cheek beside that incredibly bewitching hair and got to his feet, releasing her hand and nodding politely to her before sliding the strap of his bag with manuscript over his shoulder.

As Johann repeated her words, Lala smirked smugly, still leaning over the table and wagged her eyebrows once as she nodded slowly. She was';t imagining him naked... Okay, maybe she was. But it was all in good fun. Yeah. Yep. Good fun. Nothing else. "But they say, the heat of a close-by human body beats all sorts of clothes in low temperatures" she mused serenely, batting her eyelashes innocently, then chuckling lowly.

She eyed him intriguingly, not quite predatory and not quite amused for a couple of seconds, then started laughing loudly at his review of their meeting. Yeah, it had been quite something... "Yeah, it's been quite a meeting" she said cryptically, with a grin. She grabbed his hand, fingers lightly touching the inside of his palm. "No, thank you. It's been awesome and you're doing me a helluva favor with that thing" she said scowling at the thought of the manuscript again.

For just the fraction of a second she jerked, feeling his lips on her cheek, but she calmed down immediately, her entire body kind of feeling like really warm goo. Really warm—why the hell was it so hot? She was too dazed to actually do anything, and before she knew it he was letting go of her hand and getting up to his feet. Before she could actually do that normal thing, humans did, which was thinking before they acted, she was grabbing her bag and was up on her feet in two seconds flat.

She circled the table and walked right up to him -silently thanking the Lord for heels- and hooked a hand around his neck, drawing him in at her level. You know, the short level. She placed a kiss on his cheek, a bit close to the corner of his mouth, but oh well, let no one say Layla Styles did things in half measures. She let go of him with a bright red blush and a surreptitious smile, turning around to walk a few steps towards the kitchen, only to turn around again and wave at him. "You work on your body shots until then, yeah?" she said, smiling and sticking the tip of her tongue out playfully, winking as she turned to skip towards the kitchen and calm the hell down under Brooderson's judging glare.