With obligatory shoulder slaps, hand shakes and the occasional hug properly distributed, their post-lecture friendly football skirmish was a wrap and students were heading off in various directions to review the day's notes.  Anton was fetching his backpack from the edge of the field when he realized where he recognized the young woman seated outside the campus cafe.  It was Abby's facebook friend, Fauna, the dancing cupcake. 

Her exact connection to his best friend's girlfriend was vague but that was the nature of facebook.  You could see who was connected with whom but not, necessarily, the nature of that connection - or the degrees of separation between mutual or co-facebook friends. 

As such, Anton couldn't remember any indication of her being a Cambridge student, but that didn't mean he couldn't say 'hello.'  With a grin, he crossed the street and approached her table. 

"Are you Fauna?  Abby's friend?" Anton asked, as he approached the table.  "Either I am recognizing you from your profile picture or I'm about to awkwardly embarrass myself." 

Was it really only Thursday? Fauna stopped writing in her notebook, looked up for a moment, and sighed. She took a sip of her tea, and nibbled at the last of her turkey sandwich. Her nose was cold, and her tea was cold, but she was avoiding the floo back to London, where she'd have to file an official report and send it on to Level Three. It would likely bounce right back to her with questions scrawled atop it, and she could only hope that someone muggle-aware like Nicholas would receive it and understand the problem.

Fauna had traveled to Cambridge earlier in the day all because of a series of blog posts. And an instagram, and a twitter, and a Facebook account, all tied to the blog, which made her wonder, who still wrote blogs these days? Well, she had her answer. When she'd met the bloke, the pesky blog bloke with the unfortunate gift for gab, he'd admitted proudly that he was next considering... a podcast.

Just what they needed! Fauna jotted that down, then added a dash next to it. She'd transfer her notes onto parchment later and clean them up.

Plans to make podcast - (similar to a wireless show).

The rest of her notes read something like this:

Teacher's assistant collects stories about UFO sightings around the U.K.

Since Aug, subject matter changed --> UFO possessions --> ghost sightings --> conspiracy theories

Has gained a huge following (people on the internet who read his articles. The Internet is (attach pamphlet!)).

Has gotten in touch with a few Mgl's who saw Mgl's attacked by P's and Dtors back in Aug.[1]

Obli's needed. TA did not see anything firsthand but is running with it excitedly. Obli may be needed, possibly redirect direction of blog, lead him back to UFO crop circles (chk w Lvl9 - conflict?).

1.	Pentrals and Dementors

Fauna shifted her cold bum on the cold seat, wishing for the great big shawl she'd left in the office to wrap around her neck. She wore her red peacoat over a black midi skirt, dark tights and boots, and a white blouse with a peter pan collar and slightly puffed sleeves. The blouse showed a colorful dot pattern that upon closer inspection were actually sprinkled donuts. She looked a strange mix between a very young professional and a college student. Her mittens, of course, had a cupcake design on them and folded back so that her fingers were free to handle her food and drink.

She looked up, feeling someone's eyes on her. Oh no, she hoped it wasn't the teacher's assistant. He'd been so flattered about getting questions from a 'fan' that he'd invited her out for coffee, which Fauna had found flattering as well, but had turned down. She felt bad enough writing the report that might get him obliviated. It was best to keep things separate.

No, definitely not the TA. This guy was younger, blond, sporty, and grinned a friendly grin. Fauna offered a tentative smile, straightening in her seat as she tried to place him. He knew Abby! Everyone knew Abby. He got her name right, too.

"Um, yes," she stalled, racking her memory, thinking about who she might run into at Cambridge of all places.

"Oh," her eyes widened. "Facebook? I know you from Facebook, right? Sasha's friend."

Fauna hoped so. The dwarf gifs. The vegetable jokes. The pop culture references. Shit! He was a muggle, wasn't he?

"Are you-" she gestured at him. "Alex?"

No.

"Aaron?"

No.

"Archi...bald?" Fauna took the opportunity to close her notebook, and smiled her shy, uncertain smile.

"I'm Fauna," she added, then remembered he already knew.

When the young woman looked up, an unmistakable hint of confusion lingering in her expression, Anton actively (though easily) ignored a slight twinge of guilt.  She appeared to be showing all the signs of being in the middle of something though, out of either politeness or lingering confusion, she hadn't yet admitted as much. 

Or told him to bugger of.  And he wasn't about to read between the lines she didn't offer if it meant passing up on an opportunity to socialize.  For all he knew, she was secretly dying for a distraction from the doldrums responsibility had thrust upon her. 

So, as large, doe-y eyes widened with recognition, Anton lowered himself on the edge of a chair across the table from her with the Goldilocks-level of being settled.  Just settled enough to make it clear his interest was genuine but not so settled that she should feel too much guilt if she explained she was super busy and needed to focus. 

"Exactly!" he offered, excitedly, when she drudged up a memory that included place, if not name.  "Sasha's friend," he mentioned as he pointed to himself.  "Abby's friend.  The lovebird's friends!  Seems well-fated we should meet, kind lady."  The theatrics of an accent that was something between Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Captain Jack Sparrow was probably unnecessary, but he thought it added a certain je n'ais ce quoi.  "After all, one day we may be sharing the responsibility of reception seating arrangements." 

"Love the Simpsons shirt!" he offered, jovially.  "I must admit, given the myriad of friends and friend's friends I've encountered on facebook, this is the first time I've ever actually run into one." 

He grinned, as she listed off names, his eyes eventually widening as he tapped the table with excitement.  "It's not Archibald, but that's even better!  I think I should adopt it.  But, now, thanks to your excellent recommendation, Anton feels embarrassingly common and boring in comparison.  And, I'm stuck with it until I change it to Archibald." 

"Pleased to meet you, officially, Fauna," he offered, extending a hand over the table.  "Do you live in Cambridge?  Or, are you a student here?" 

Fauna shrugged one shoulder and leaned back in her seat as Sasha's friend perched on the chair across from her. After a moment Fauna chuckled behind her coffee cup, catching his reference to Abby and Sasha's future wedding. Oh Merlin, the mere thought! How cute but alarming! Her friends were not allowed to get married yet, oh no. All of them needed to wait a few years (or ten). Wait for her to catch up, and in the meantime act like idiots at Spellpunk.

"Uh, what?"

Fauna glanced down at her shirt, remembering she was wearing a blouse with a tiny donut pattern. She was still blinking in confusion as he happily chattered on about changing names to Archibald. What in Helga's name was the Simpsons? Something on the internet? Oh right, an internet thing! A gif. And a show on the telly, probably. She didn't watch much muggle media, unless she was spending time at her mum's house, and even then she suspected those shows weren't the shows that Archibald- Anton! - would watch.

A faint blush rose to her cheeks. This guy was going to be trouble, with his questions and his friendliness and his jokes, and holy shit, how was he friends with Sasha, but then she felt bad for thinking that, and reached over the table to shake his hand loosely.

"I mean, you can change it to Archibald on Facebook and see how many comments you get. It's a start."

She smiled. She didn't think she'd ever just happened to meet someone who happened to be on the same social media sites. Site. Just the one.

"Uh, I go to school in London. UAL[1]," Fauna told the same lie she told her extended muggle family. "But my boss likes to send me on random errands to check out artwork, for his gallery."

The lie had worked well for her over the years. Her family could easily believe that she'd go to school for art, and could believe she'd eek out a living with a bunch of friends in London, and could believe she had an eccentric, demanding boss based on how often she missed family events. It would be easier to keep up the lie, she hoped, once she 'graduated'. She could just continue working for the same 'gallery owner'.

"You go to school here, right? With Sasha? Do you take the same classes?"

Fauna cradled her chin in her hands and affected interest, which didn't take much, since she was sure he'd be entertaining and she was curious about his friendship with Sasha. Still, always best to shift attention off the lie!

1.	University of Arts London

Well, look at that!  So far, Abby's Friend Fauna hadn't offered any recommendations to bugger off - either covertly or overtly.  A win, whichever way one looked at it.  So, with a slight chuckle and nod of agreement at the other's slightly startled look at the flippant mention of wedding bells, Anton committed himself to sitting in the chair with a comfortable, casual air. 

"Oh, don't look so panicked.  I doubt it's imminent.  Just what I gleaned from my horoscope this morning.  And what I read in my cereal dregs this morning confirmed it."  Reading milk-drowned cereal was the most accurate form of future-telling, everyone knew that. 

All of Sasha's friends seemed to be strange and, as Anton watched Fauna glance quizzically down at her shirt, it was clear this one was no exception.  Like, really?  Who wore a doughnut shirt and didn't expect a Simpsons reference? 

But, there were more important things to worry about.  "You are a brilliant woman," Anton declared as he tugged his phone from his pocket and opened up his facebook feed.  "Archibald Alexander Aaron Anton Reinke," he said slowly as he typed it into his facebook feed.  "I'm sure no one will notice." 

"You are!?"  It was fortunate that he'd retrieved his phone when Fauna declared her school loyalties.  With a bright grin, Anton nodded his head and opened his list of contacts.  It was a little odd that she was a student but had a boss sending her on errands but, by now, odd seemed to fit the picture.  "I've got several old classmates who go there!  Which college ... wait, no.  Let me guess.  You seem like the Camberwell type.  Or, maybe -"  He pursed his lips as he cast another glance at her outfit.  "Chelsea?[1]" 

Initially, Anton nodded to confirm he was a student at Cambridge but, quickly, replaced the gesture with a quick and definitive shake of his head.  "Definitely not the same classes.  He's "hard" sciences.  I'm "soft" sciences," he offered, complete with air quotes around each descriptor.  "I study Human, Social and Political Sciences - the fluff stuff, I've been told," he clarified, rolling his eyes dramatically.  "International Politics and Social Anthropology are my things.  I like people; they're fun and weird and do stupid and silly stuff.  It's great." 

What he actually planned to do with his life when he was faced with the real world in three years remained a mystery but he was content in living in such a mystery for as long as he could. 

1.	The individual colleges

Fauna continued to raise her eyebrows in mild surprise, curious about where Anton had picked up on things like reading his future in cereal dregs. Huh! She knew Sasha would rather die than mention the 'd' word which was Divination. How funny that one of his good friends actually read horoscopes, or pretended to, or talked about it to annoy Sasha.

That must be it.

Uh oh. Archibald-Anton knew people at UAL. Noooo. Shit shit shit. Fauna watched him with his phone, texting certain doom for her. Slowly, Fauna drew out her phone as well, and frowned down at it as she tried to remember her Facebook login. Shit. She never stayed logged in because it ate up too much data, and shit!

She tried a few passwords:

b@dgerpr1de

2lvl3lvl4lvl5

She fumbled one of the attempts and glanced up.

"Uh, Chelsea. Good guess," Fauna smiled weakly. She would look at his friends list and try to gauge the damage later. She put her phone on the table in front of her, glad he was talking about himself. And it was interesting! Fauna hadn't expected him to have selected another major (what was Sasha's, again?), but it made sense, considering his friendliness.

"I like people. Well, sometimes," Fauna attempted a joke with an awkward shrug of her shoulder. "Er, the fluff stuff. Those sound like fun classes though."

She sipped at her coffee. "Are you hoping for any specific career after graduating, or you know, it's probably too early. You must hate getting that question."

She winced sympathetically. Yeah, if she'd just started university in the soft sciences she wouldn't want to hear that.

"Don't let Sasha give you shite for it," she widened her eyes in a manner half as dramatic as Anton's eyeroll but more dramatic than she realized. "I mean, while he's figuring out world peace, you're actually making the world a more peaceful place to live in."

Right? That's what she told herself too! Even if she had to hex a few criminals to do it.

Anton watched with unmasked amusement and curiosity as Fauna's expression flickered between what appeared to be surprise to concern to confusion which, in appropriate contexts, wouldn't be all that unremarkable.  But, really, being surprised by the prospect of reading cereal dregs required just a little more belief in such a story than he assumed a student of the fine University of the Arts of London could be tricked into. 

But, as his momma always said, artsy folks is as artsy folks does. 

"I am yanking your chain," he admitted, just in case her taking the comment seriously was part of the reason for her concern.  Maybe she had religious reasons to distrust those who got there morning message from their morning musli. 

"Don't worry.  Most of my friends don't play records backwards looking for hidden messages, either.  Not in public, at least.  Especially not the Chelsea crew."  He fired off a few texts before switching off the phone and setting on the edge of the table.  "I'll put you all in touch; I know one has an exhibition coming up at the end of the term and would love to have as much campus moral support as possible." 

Something Anton couldn't help but sympathize with.  He liked people, sure.  But, he wasn't sure he liked random strangers analyzing his academic work in a public setting.  That just sounded cruel. 

He shrugged and nodded, confirming fluff classes were fun classes but couldn't help a long, self-suffering sigh at her question.  "Yes.  I get it all the time, though it is refreshing to hear it from someone other than my mum."  It was such a big question and his thought processes had really only started to move from the if wishes were horses level of what-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up to the more realistic yet slightly drabbier realm of adulthood. 

"I'd love to end up in international politics - civil service, maybe even an ambassador's office.  I love to travel.  But, curating a historic site or working with a NGO of some sort.  What about you?  What branch of the arts are you interested in?"

"Don't let Sasha give you shite for it.  I mean, while he's figuring out world peace, you're actually making the world a more peaceful place to live in."

Anton's laugh was loud and bright and he shook his head for a few seconds longer then was, perhaps, warranted in the situation.  "Figuring out world peace?  God, no.  I swear that guy's one irradiated lab monkey bite away from becoming the next Green Goblin or Lex Luthor.   Naw - he doesn't give me too much shite for it; he knows I'll give it right back." 

Though, something about that comment and her expression that the other might have been speaking from some personal experience - a thought which tickled a memory in the back of Anton's mind.  "You aren't hat girl, by chance, are you?"

"Uh, alright!" Fauna forced a smile as Anton confirmed that he'd put her in touch with his friends at Chelsea. "I'm, you know, happy to offer support and let everyone know about your friend's show."

Sure. She'd let everyone know, just not show up to the show itself. He could read that in his morning cereal.

Fauna nodded, a smile inching up her face as Anton detailed the many possibilities and ideas he had for after graduation. That was something he and Sasha had in common, at least. They were both ambitious, just in different ways. Anton seemed more relaxed about it.

"International politics? Sounds exciting." She sipped at her coffee, thinking about how to answer his question.

Fauna chuckled when Anton laughed, amused at his green goblin comment. Okay then. He and Sasha must be very close friends to make fun of each other like that.

"Am I what?" Her eyebrows raised into the fringe of her hair. "Um, Anton."

She held up a finger, and dug around in her pocket for her hat. Aha! Cupcake hat. Fauna plopped it on her head, adjusting it so that the edges covered her ears. The sprinkles didn't quite match the sprinkles on her shirt, but it did match the overall sweets obsession theme.

Fauna ducked her head and looked seriously at him. "Do I look like hat girl?"

She smiled, feeling silly. She generally saved her jokes, if they could be called jokes, for her friends like Fig and Abby, but Anton was friendly enough to bring it out of her.

"I mean, I have taken a few textile design classes at school. Along with the painting, and gallery work. But am I hat girl?"

Her smile turned sheepish. Uh oh, what had Sasha said about her? "That depends on whether you've heard good or bad things."

Absolutely believing that Fauna's smile was genuine and the offer of support meant what he assumed it meant, Anton offered a pleased smile and fished in his backpack for his water bottle.  This was good!  More friends for more of his friends and Megan would have another guaranteed friendly face at her exhibition. 

Besides, there were more important things to discuss than future plans and art shows. 

Most importantly, the true, unmasked identity of Hat Girl and ... her hats.  Which absolutely did not disappoint.  A broad, toothy and wonderfully happy grin stretched across Anton's face as Fauna produce the cupcake hat and set it, proudly, on her head.  It was a hat worthy of a slow round of applause and Anton, indeed, gave it three ceremonious claps, stopping only when it became clear the occupants at the neighboring table did not approve as much. 

"Fuck, that's fantastic!" He proclaimed, shaking his head.  "Where can I get one?  It would probably give poor Rudi a seizure if we wore matching cupcakes.  Unless ... do they come in different flavors?  I'd love a red velvet cupcake hat."

So, yes.  Her serious question was warranted.  Yes, she definitely looked like a candidate for hat girl.  But, she hadn't answered the question.  Slowly, Anton shrugged and gave an appropriately uncertain look in return. 

"I mean, you look like you could play the part of Hat Girl but that doesn't mean that's your true identity.  For all I know, you're Hat Girl's trusty sidekick, Beret Babe."  Not that the cupcake hat could even pretend to be a beret.  "Or Fez Femme Fatale.  I don't know."  It was clear that Fauna the Fez Femme Fatale was aware, herself, that she hadn't offered an actual answer. 

"But am I hat girl?"

Trying (and almost failing) to stem a laugh that would spoil the whole 007-on-shrooms scene, Anton pressed his lips closed between his teeth and nodded his head.  If he tried to talk now, he'd lose it. 

"That depends on whether you've heard good or bad things."

Anton laughed and shook his head, drumming his fingertips against the table as he considered how to answer the question.  "Well...let's just say I've learned to take his grudges with a hearty grain of salt.  I've spent enough time around him to know how those things go and it shows all the classic signs."

"So, if you are the Mysterious Hat Girl, I totally want to audition for Beret Babe.  I think I'd make an awesome sidekick and I'd look good in a beret."

Fauna laughed at Anton's clever nicknames, shaking her head at him. Fez Femme Fatale (ha!), Beret Babe (more plausible). She glanced shyly at the neighboring tables and offered an apologetic shrug at Anton's energy and exuberance, but they were in a college town, it was fine.

Her face fell slightly when Anton confirmed that Sasha did indeed hold a grudge against Hat Girl, but that was nothing she didn't already know, and at least it wasn't bad enough to make Anton run off. She quirked an eyebrow at 'classic signs'. Did Sasha's classic signs include stuffiness and condescension and... no, best not to think about it.

"If you really want to know," she said more earnestly, "I guess I could be considered Hat Girl. My mum owns a hat shop in Devon, so actually, it runs in the family. I did have a collection growing up, including a monster hat.[1]" She widened her eyes for effect. "It had googly eyes and lots of felt teeth. But I'm not, you know, a monster-person," she paused, glancing down. "I think - I hope we've moved past some of that stuff now that we're out in the real world. Er, well, now that we're at different schools."

She no longer made terribad dating choices (please no more bad dating choices) and she no longer sneaked out of Hogwarts at night to follow said bad dating choices (she'd graduated!) and she no longer stood in hospital rooms and accused classmates (Sasha) of conspiring to injure her as they both winced from their wounds. No, she questioned her former classmates on Level Two now. She'd matured.

"You still want to be a Beret Babe sidekick?" Fauna smiled. "Then you must answer me these questions... three."

She flipped to a blank page in her Don't Forget to Take Notes notebook and raised her eyebrows, straightening in her seat. Fauna resisted the urge to check her watch. She should be getting back to the office soon, but how were they to know how long it took to contain social media disasters?

"Question one. Who is Rudi?" Fauna narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion. "Where do their loyalties lie?"

Did Rudi have something against red velvet cupcakes or matching cupcake hats?

"Do you own any hats, Anton? Are they boring hats, or weird hats?"

She tugged once at her own cupcake hat to give him a hint as to the correct answer.

"I know, I know, I've asked you more than three questions and is that a problem?" She glanced up from her notebook. "No." Fauna gestured with her pen at him. "The answer is no."

A smile tugged at her mouth. "Final question. Are you willing to volunteer your hat as a flag in a capture the flag game? And not just any game. It's a game that takes place at night in a spooky forest.[2] Or a park, or whatever's around." She gave him a considering look, curious how much Sasha had told Anton about his Hogwarts adventures, the good ones as well as the bad.

1.	The monster hat
2.	The woods are dire, dark and deep

"Ahhh haaa," Anton said slowly, conspiratorially, as if Fauna's simple admission to being Hat Girl explained everything..  Then, he leaned forward across the table in a proper, conspiratorial manner.  "So you are not only Hat Girl but the Hat Girl - daughter of the infamous Chieftess Chapeau.  I am both honored and impressed." 

Despite the collection of onlookers (or, really, it was more like because of them), Anton quickly popped up to his feet and offered a deep, though distinctly skirt-less curtsy.  "Well, my lady, then I am glad your monstrosity is only hat deep.  If I had known your true identity, I wouldn't have hesitated to offer deference sooner."  Without fully straightening, he slipped back into his seat and resumed leaning against the table. 

Of course, he was aware he was making light of a conversation that had a serious and ongoing feudish undertone.  "Well, we all have our different faces but I can't imagine monster-person is one of yours.  And, I have a suspicion that you're not alone in your hope that things have changed.  But, for him, it's-"  Anton hesitated a moment, uncertain what his role in such a matter was.  Friend-oriented intervention sometimes was warranted in long standing feuds but those mediators were generally friends of both.  Sasha didn't even know he'd crossed paths with Fauna the Fabulous Fedora Fenom. 

He also didn't know Anton was playing hopscotch with one of his friends. 

Oh well.  He'd survive.   Or, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.  Maybe, just, the second until the first was necessary.

"He has a tendency to make things more complicated than they need to be."  Anton concluded with a slight shrug. 

"But, I totally still want to be Beret Babe.  I - alright."  Now, this was exciting.  Billy goats bluff met Monty Python.  What could go wrong?  Anton straightened in his chair, glancing over the table at the still-empty notebook with feigned suspicious curiosity before settling back in his chair. 

"Question one. Who is Rudi?  Where do their loyalties lie?"

First question and, already, his hopes of assuming the role of Beret Babe were already on a slow descent into the  mountainside.  "Sasha.  His middle name ... well first middle name ... is Rudolf.  So ... Rudi.  And, so ... that definitely answers question ... 1A." 

"Do you own any hats, Anton? Are they boring hats, or weird hats?"

Ooo.  "I definitely own hats," he said, sounding offended at the question.  A question that would certainly define his merit.  One thing worked in his favor: chances of her following him home to rummage in his closet for proof were slim to none.  He could lie and hunt ... it ... down.  "Weird is in the eye of the beholder but ... let's see.  Top hat.  Cowboy hat.  Pirate's hat," he listed off, hoping for a winner.  "Queens guard bearskin hat.  Eggplant emoji hat?" 

"Of course!"  This Fauna's final question was, by far, the easiest.  Assuming this said game was in the future rather than in the past, Anton leaned forward with unmistakable eagerness.  "When is my hat needed?  I can rearrange my schedule.  Consider me - or my hat - a volunteer tribute," he insisted, raising three fingers and kissing them before lifting them in a solemn Mockingjay salute.

Uh oh. What had Sasha told him? Ok, Anton was just bowing and curtsying and being theatrical. Fauna covered one side of her face with her hand and looked plenty bashful at the glances and laughter coming their way.

"Uh... I accept your, uh, pledge."

She sipped at her coffee and mimed a toast as he sat again, listening to him explain.

"...He has a tendency to make things more complicated than they need to be."

Fauna nodded, expression softening. Well, Anton was diplomatic! Complicated (not in the Facebook way) was the very best word for it, and Sasha wasn't alone in that. She either forgave too easily at times, or had a hard time letting go of grudges, or refused to accept blame because she hated feeling attacked and knew if she acknowledged it she'd feel like a monster-person forever, or thought she had forgiven someone but then felt a fresh rush of resentment, or decided she'd never move past it and then found herself acting nice to her tormentor. She was sensitive. She was an artist.

"Hmm." Fauna twisted her mouth to the side and tilted her head to one side as if considering the merits of Anton's loyalty to Rudi. She would have to remember Sasha's middle name so she could tell Abby to send him Rudolph memes.

"Eggplant. Emoji," Fauna wrote that down, managing to keep a straight face. Where did one get an eggplant emoji hat? Did she want to know? Yes, she did.

She blinked at him owlishly. "When you said weird is in the eye of the beholder, I was expecting a beholder hat. But this will do."

Anton leaned forward with enthusiasm and Fauna snapped the notebook shut, hiding it away in her bag as she shot him amused glances.

A smile spread over her face. "Is that..? Is that from Hunger Games? Sorry, I live, er, partially under a rock. It's my part time residence."

Aware of how many questions that statement would bring up, Fauna quickly said, "Ok, Beret... Babe," she said 'babe' quietly, "I'll let you know when we next play capture the flag or decide to go camping or something. Make sure you wear your eggplant emoji hat, or find a beholder one."

Sasha had the spookiest forest! It could work. It could work with muggle no-magic rules, but Fauna bit her lip, hoping Sasha wouldn't mind her extending the invitation. Just like that, it had turned into an invitation. She remembered Sasha's frantic Facebook posts trying to discourage Anton from joining the huge group birthday party on Saturday, but she knew from office gossip that Sasha had been unsuccessful.

"How was the birthday party over the weekend?" She wondered. "I meant to go, but - did you meet everyone?"

She and Abby hadn't ended up going. Fauna had been working that day, and by the time work was over Abby had texted her and said she didn't feel up to it, so they'd just hung out at her flat until Raine came home. She still had a few sketches in her other notebook, designing tattoo ideas for Abby to look into once she felt better, while telling her all about that time she'd gone to The Inkwell with Brett a few years ago as very young, wide-eyed first year trainees.

See.  This was the beauty of life!  You never knew what each day might bring.  Saturday brought a new bed buddy.  Today saw Anton anointed as the newest member of the ranks of the Beret Babes - and he didn't even know such a coveted rank existed not five hours ago.  At this rate, tomorrow might see him finding a golden ticket to some magical cruise in his breakfast cereal.

Though, in hindsight, he really should have written that list of hats down.  As soon as he got back to his flat, he would need to test Amazon's ability to really find him anything he needed.  Even if they didn't have it, there was no doubt that an eggplant emoji hat would be going in a shopping cart on some random website by the end of the day. 

"Beholder hat!?" Anton repeated, eyes widening in surprise and enthusiasm.  "You mean that mythic monster that looks like the love child of medusa and a sunflower?  That sounds awesome!  Don't be surprised if I have one by this mightiest of competitions!"

Anton nodded to confirm Katniss Everdeen as the source of his pledge before laughing loudly at her explanation.  "You and apparently half of Rudi's friends.  I'm not sure what it is, but your shared allegiance to being Rock People is really uncanny.  If I didn't know the guy any better, I'd start to wonder if you were some strange Rock People Cult."  He wouldn't have put it past his friend to find himself in the midst of some strange, socially-peculiar cult though it was somewhat reassuring to know that Sasha absolutely lacked the social charm to somehow become a cult leader.  #It'sTheLittleThings

Cult or no, these Rock People didn't seem to give themselves enough credit.  "You all spend a lot of time apologizing for it but, from what I can tell, you all seem pretty cool.  Odd, but cool."  He grinned.  "Not quite cool enough to motivate a fellow to contemplate conversion, but enough to want to play tourist.  Just how many of you Rock People are there?"

After all, rock or no rock, these people could relax and have some fun.  Anton grinned broadly, but paused to flag down a server and order a coffee before turning back to Fauna the Artist. 

"It was fantastic," he finally confirmed, leaning against the table with a knowing nod.  "We met up at this fellow's flat ... no doubt a true Rock Person from the decor.  But, went out and grabbed some drinks.  Did a little dancing.  Definitely met everyone - they were a little strange at times but that was to be expected, I suppose.  Got to know some on a little more personal of a level than others," he added with a coy grin. 

"You should definitely come next time, though!"

"How was the birthday party over the weekend?" She wondered. "I meant to go, but - did you meet everyone?"

“Figaro?” Fauna confirmed when Anton said a fellow’s flat, trying not to laugh at his description because Raine had called it a hovel the first time she’d been there. Poor Fig! It couldn’t be that bad, but then again, she remembered sharing a common room with him.

“Oh,” her eyes widened at the implication. Dare she pry? That kind of connection had not been a part of the office gossip!

“I’m uh, glad you had a good time,” she said with total earnestness, then winced. She meant the party! The party. Not his personal after party.

“Er, I will definitely be there,” Fauna smiled, flattered that he at least liked Sasha’s friends even if they were all odd. “I mean, that is, if work doesn’t call me away, and if I’m not having some kind of complicated friend crisis,” she paused, her eyes glinting with humor as she acknowledged to Anton that in some ways, she and Sasha (Rudi) were very similar.

“So yeah, barring those things, I will be there. I will uh, crawl out from under my rock.”

To hang out with fellow rock people and one muggle.

Just as she was wondering what time it was and how long she’d dawdled, something smooth like a stone warmed the inside of her coat pocket. Fauna set her drink down and rifled in her coat until she drew out a very old fashioned, elegant pocket watch with hidden gears and compartments. When she glanced at the time, the watch cooled to a normal temperature in the palm of her hand.

“I should be getting back,” she glanced at Anton apologetically. She put her pocket watch away and only then remembered the mobile phone on the table in front of her.

Avoiding his gaze, she dropped the phone in her pocket as well.

Fauna started buttoning up her red coat and looking for her mittens.

“As for rock people, there aren’t a lot of us,” she couldn’t resist answering his previous question. “Sometimes you don’t know when you’ll run into one, or if you already have,” Fauna stood, looking around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “But we do seem to like strange hats,” she tugged on the edge of her own hat, making it lopsided.

A smile crept up her face as she tried to gauge his expression. “You know, for our capture the flag games. Which you are definitely invited to.”

Too bad, so sad, Sasha!

"Aye - yes!  Figaro, that was it!"  Anton confirmed when Fauna offered the name.  "Far less Roman of a chap than I would have expected, but -"  The comment trailed off, mostly because Anton really didn't have a follow up point. 

When his thoughts finally wandered back from trying to ascertain how such a blonde lad had ended up with such a very pizzeria-oriented name, his company was fumbling over the attempt at a departure.  All fringed with the embarrassment of Anton's very pleasurable conclusion to the evening of festivities. 

Even more than before, he found himself completely flummoxed by the question of how she and Sasha had found their ways into a years-long feud.  Hats aside, they were far too alike - but, perhaps, that was part of the problem.  An observation that obvious enough for at least one of the two in question to be aware of it.  Anton was half-tempted to try and determine if Sasha was equally as aware.

"You make it sound even more like a cult," Anton admitted with a broad grin, grinning with good humor as she gathered her things together.  "In fact, I might start introducing myself to people as Anton, Official Friend of the Association of Rock People.  Just to see how many really do belong." 

Besides, if doing so got him invited to more capture the flag games featuring crazy hats, it would be worth the strange looks he got from the Non-Initiated along the way. 

"I'm holding you to that, Beret Babe Brigadier!"  With a flourish of his hand, he offered the Simpsons-shirt and hat wearing Fauna a salute before turning his thoughts (regrettably) back to his studies.