2013.06.18 - Coffee Talk With Linda Richman

Anglicized from the Dutch name Groenwijck, meaning "Pine District", Greenwich Village was at one point the bohemian capital and the birthplace of the Beat movement. During its heyday you could have seen Nat King Cole, John Coltrane, Sarah Vaughan and Ellza Fitzgerald, among many, performing here during the 30s at the height of cafe society. The village has always remained at the center of movements that have gone counter to the status quo, and its residents tend to take the world with a bigger grain of salt than others. For example, very few people afford the purple cat-man sitting at the cafe more than a passing glance. Considering there is a man tattood from head to toe in scale-like tattoos with sub-dermal alterations to resemble spikes, Keith practically vanilla. He had gladly accepted Booster's suggestion of a place, and is currently sitting at the table waiting for him, sketching on a little notepad.

When Booster does arrive, he is not in costume; at least, not in any obvious way. He is wearing a dark blue button-down shirt that is open at the throat, long sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, tucked into dark grey slacks. No goggles, either, but he is wearing gold-tinted mirrored aviator glasses. None of this keeps him from flying, however, and he drops down for a landing on the sidewalk. His hair and clothing seem curiously unruffled. If anything, he looks a little more out of place than Keith does, as if he were visiting from Soho. "Dude," he greets Keith in an amicable manner, as he walks up to the table, extending his hand for a handshake.

The feline flashes him a big grin, shaking his hand and rising from his chair a little "Hey! It's nice to see you again," he adds, having noticed Booster's landing. He had to admit, although he could levitate, he always wondered what it must feel like to be able to fly at full tilt. "How have you been? Any new developments on that case you were looking into?" He asks, gesturing to one of the chairs and looking over his shoulder to get the attention of the waitress so Booster could order something.

"Unfortunately, no. But I guess it's on the backburner--anyway, I was looking into it because Superman had been hurt. But he's okay, now." Booster has a grey canvas messenger bag as well, and he lifts the strap up over his head so he can drop it on the floor by his feet when he sits. "I kind of -have- to shift my attention because we had a dustup with some villains the other day, over in Chinatown. If you saw that on the news, that was us..." He lifts his right hand, the gold ring he wears gleaming in the light. When the server comes over, he orders a red-eye, then continues, "I wrecked my favorite shirt in that battle, too."

"Yeah, I saw that, looked like one hell of a scrap. Glad I wasn't in Chinatown that day!" he chuckles, sipping his coffee, "I was at the harbor to take a look at that giant robot they were bringing over in a boat. You know, the one they found that apparently has been here since before the dawn of time or whatever? The thing activated, and it turned into one hell of a mess."

"Might be alien in origin, or a tempore artifact," suggests Booster, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. He does have an odd way of saying 'temporal'. "I think I'm better suited for dealing with giant robots, actually. I'm always afraid I'm going to seriously hurt someone so I hold back a lot in combat." He sits back and idly twists the ring on his finger. "So, you were in that fight?"

"Yyyeah..." he says, dragging out the answer, "I was pretty useless. The robot could see through my illusions, blasted sensors, and there's not much damage you can do by hitting them with your fist unless you're superman. Iron Spider threw a truck at it and I rode a wrecking ball into it--" he says, trying to avoid the fact that this was probably the most stupid and suicidal thing someone who wasn't invulnerable could do "that slowed it down, but it was the Marvels and ... I think it was Stargirl that destroyed it. That's twice in one week I've regretted not having some kind of ranged attack," he chuckles, closing the sketchbook, "I got pinned in a bank robbery by a woman that launched acid spikes and a guy who threw fireballs. I mean, I trained in martial arts, but getting these powers... they came without a manual, or a strategy guide. I went invisible when that jewelry store was getting robbed and decided to distract them by making an illusion of Wonder Woman at the door while I snuck up to the side... and it turned out Fireball guy was a psychic and immediately could tell it was an illusion. I hate psychics." he says, emphatically.

Booster actually laughs a little bit at this last admission. "One of my teammates is psychic and sometimes she frowns at me and I have to wonder if she picked up some stray thought. Then I wonder if she's picking up my wondering. But another teammate..." he pauses, eyes rolling upwards as he gestures vaguely with one hand. "I guess 'psychic' is the correct word for her too, but she does illusions. They're really -intense- illusions, though. Maybe she'd be willing to give you pointers, sometime. She's a giant snake." Booster adds this last part casually, just something that he feels needed to be mentioned. In a more thoughtful attitude, he says, "I wonder what Diana would think about you doing an illusion of her."

Keith blinks a little "Oh no... I didn't think of that. I didn't mean any d-disrespect. I greatly admire her... It's just that I thought if they thought they had a major threat... well... I could see how they'd use their powers against whom they'd thought was her and then I'd be able to stop them. "I... also made an illusion of Batman when stopping a drug bust by the Callahan gang in Gotham..." now there it is, the realization that they'd object to it makes him nervous, and nervousness in him means a little rambling "... and Huntress came in at that exact same time and we both caught the goons then she told me something about something called Oracle and gave me a cell phone and...oh god." sip. Long coffee sip.

"Oh... man, don't worry about Diana," Booster waves his hand, as if to dismiss Keith's fears. "She's the kindest person I've ever met. Kind and beautiful. And amazing." After a slight pause, he tilts his head and opens his hand palm-upwards in a didactic gesture when he adds, "As for Batman... I don't know him. But he might be offended, I guess it'd depend on the circumstances. I mean, I won't even set foot in Gotham City. The stories where I'm from indicate he like... eats souls." Looking to Keith, Booster tells him in a comforting tone, "But it's okay, I'm sure he won't eat your soul if he finds out."

The cat shivers visibly "That's....reassuring. Huntress scared the bejeezus out of me. But... I guess in hindsight I really had no reason to. One of Callahan's goons shot me-" he says, raising one sleeve of his underarmour shirt and showing a treated shoulder wound "- and she took me to some clinic through the side-door and stayed there until I was tended. I haven't met Batman... and I don't know who - or what - Oracle is... but now I'm curious to find out." A beat, "That's probably not a good thing... with what they say about cats and curiosity."

A little more reassured, he looks less nervous. "Wow, you've met Wonder Woman too..." he says, a bit of the fanboy in his voice comes out and does the hokey pokey, "She's amazing. I'll probably never get to meet her, but I like knowing there's someone like that out in the world..." his brain picks up an earlier thread "-as for the illusions... I don't think I can really change what I do with them. Someone who could see energy told me my powers were, apparently, all magical... but they seem to work in a very, very -set- way. My illusions are visible, auditory, even scent... but they won't fool anyone who can sense there's no mind there. Or if you're a fricking robot with X-ray vision or whatever." he laughs "I can create a lot of things, too, but..." he holds out his hand and a purple glowing dagger appears in it, "... for example," he draws the dagger hard across his wrist. No blood comes out, and barely any fur was disturbed "... I can't make sharp things. They can -look- sharp, but they're as blunt as Batman is rumored to be."

"Yeah that is like, way out of my understanding zone," Booster admits, gesturing at the dagger construct. "I mean, it's kind of like a Green Lantern dealio, but not exactly. I'm pretty sure a Green Lantern could make something like that and hella stab you." Considering this as he picks up the coffee cup that was delivered to him, he amends, "I don't know any Green Lanterns but they probably wouldn't stab you, but you get what I mean. Anyway, you said you have martial arts training. Kind of sounds like you're still figuring out how to fuse your powers and training together."

"It's one hell of a puzzle," he admits, resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on the table. "Ten years of Hei hu quan--- that's tiger style kung fu. Go ahead and laugh, I did. Then there's pulling objects out of thin air..." he says, and the dagger vanishes when he is no longer focusing on it, "invisibility, illusion, levitation and I can Sidestep... that is, disappear from one place and appear elsewhere... by about fifteen feet. I am convinced it was the cheshire cat who made me because... what else could explain this crazy smörgåsbord of slap-dash talents? Nothing in my training prepared me for how to deal with this."

"Well, I dunno who the Cheshire Cat is," Booster admits, "But it sounds like a pretty cool range of powers. And I kind of understand, my combat talents were street brawling and football," he holds up one finger and then a second as he lists these, "So when I added super-powers to that I had to figure it all out as I went along. But dude, if you can levitate and teleport and stuff, you should be leaping out of thin air to kick someone in the head then vanishing again. Or doing some weird illusion right in their face so you can sucker-punch them. Even if they know it's an illusion, I bet it could be pretty distracting."

"Well, the levitation thing is pretty useless in combat. I can't levitate faster than I can walk... and I don't mean a brisk walk. More like a little mosey. I also can't start it mid air, I have to be touching some sort of surface with my feet before I can levitate-- it's *really* weird. Teleporting is useful... but I can't do it more than three times in a minute, otherwise I get really, really sick, and I don't know why. I can use it for combat, it just has to be done very sparingly. I like using the illusions idea in combat, though, I haven't run into any limits with my illusions like with teleporting or levitating... the area is limited to fifteen feet, but that's about it, really," he says, taking notes on Booster's idea, scribbling down 'think of weird illusions, the weirder the better'.

"But you can still do it," Booster points out, arching a brow. "So you'd just need to judge your moment. I'm not trying to tell you how to use your own powers, it's more like..." He gestures vaguely with his free hand, since he has coffee in the other. "When I played football, part of my deal was understanding what my teammates could do, so we could play up their strengths. Anyway, what happens if you start your levitation right when you jump? Would you keep some of that momentum or does it sap it? I bet you could mow down dozens of street thugs at a time. Except... I guess, you're not really bulletproof, are you."

"I wish!" he grins "No, I found out the hard way. I did experiment with jumping, though! I do keep momentum, but I can't control my trajectory that well. So I figured I'd probably need to get myself a grapple or something that I can use to ground myself after a flying tackle? -- I totally understand what you're saying," he nods "It's useful to know what you do. I did figure out something cool, though, that I think I can use."

Booster is frowning as he rubs his chin, gazing at his coffee. There is nothing wrong with his beverage, this is simply the look he gets when he is deep in thought. "What if you like... made yourself invisible but projected an image of yourself that was like, a foot or two away from you. Because then most people would target that, instead of your real body." He brightens up a bit. "Well, it's just a thought. I'm not good at being sneaky, it's kind of the opposite of what I do. But I -am- bulletproof when I have my suit on, so it's never been something I've had to think about."

The cat chuckles and puts a hand on Booster's shoulder "I really appreciate this. It's the first time I've gotten to talk shop with someone. It's good feeling that you're not running blind. That illusion idea is a great one. If I had used it that night with Huntress, that goon probably wouldn't have shot me. One thing I found out is that I can do this..." he says, pointing at the air and summoning a little two by two glowing square. He pushes on it, but it remains perfectly stationary in the air. Then he mentally releases it and it falls onto the table, where it vanishes. "I can make things that just hang in the air and let them go if I want them to. I was thinking of... well..." he focuses, and on the table a little illusory version of himself appears. He starts running and jumping, and goes through a whole acrobatic routine by creating bars in the air, using them to swing and kick, and jumping to a new bar as the other one disappears. The illusion vanishes as he says " ... I just need to get good acrobatic training from someone." He immediately thinks about Patrick. Then he casts that idea aside.

"Wow, that's awesome," Booster opines, gesturing at the tiny demonstration. "That'd help you really get around, and then you could levitate if you needed to switch your focus to making something else out of... whatever this glowy stuff is. Even if the stuff you make is blunt, if you could fling it hard enough at a target it'd still hurt." Setting his coffee cup on the table, Booster says, "I do some gymnastics, but not the kind that'd help you. My coach always had us working on that kind of thing so we'd be more agile and graceful in the game. You need ah..." he snaps his fingers twice, then remembers. "Parkour."

Keith O'Neil snaps his fingers "Yes! Exactly! That's something I need, bad. I need to find an instructor that I can work with on that... that'd be awesome..." something Booster says makes him think. "I have *no* idea what this stuff is made of, I just know I make it. It has mass and weight... I made a fifteen feet radius wrecking ball and rode it into that thing, so I know I can make heavy things that hit hard. Parkour, why didn't I think of that?" he tilts his head. "Oh yeah... I have these, too," he says, extending his hands and drawing his claws. "Regular ones... hurts like a b---a lot when they break, though."

"Well... yeah, I mean you're a lot like a cat, right? I've seen designoschematica for cats, the claws are the ends of the fingers." Booster points at one of Keith's claws, as he wonders, "Can't you protect your claws and hands if you're attacking something tough? With your glowy stuff. I mean, making temporary gloves or whatever. I know you said that the stuff can't be sharp, but it'd still hurt your target." He sits back to have a sip of his coffee. "I mean, I bet you can hit pretty hard, I just wonder if you'd hit even harder if you did that." Keith O'Neil blinks at this, and thinks for a second. Then he focuses-- and glowing purple gloves with clawed fingers cover his hands. Of course, not sharp "Hmm... not bad, good thinking there!" he says, turning his hand this way and that to look at the gloves. "Designoschematica? You hadn't seen cats before you came here?" He says, looking over at Booster, wondering just what was the 25th century like.

"I always have my forcefield on if there's something really tough to punch," Booster explains, grinning a little. "Otherwise I'd be shattering my hands. And no, not real cats, anyway. Not 'housecats', just synthetic ones, and those were usually pets, which we couldn't afford. Feral animals, I mean meat-based ones, were... different than what you have in this era. I'm constantly amazed at all the animals, here." He glances around, then points at some normal city pigeons strutting around on the sidewalk. "I mean, that's incredible."

Keith looks at the pigeons, raising an eyebrow "And a lot of people consider them pests. You're an interesting man, Booster," he says, looking over at him. "If you come from the future, does that mean that that's what's going to happen, no matter what? It sounds a little...bleak."

"I'm not sure," Booster admits, his smile fading. "My friends from the 31st century are from different time-lines. But there are some constants that seem to happen, regardless. Uh, it's hard to explain because first off, this isn't my native language and if the words I need exist, I may not even know them. Also, my understanding seems to come and go, like someone's flipping a switch in my memory. But I'll give it a shot." He puts his coffee cup on the table and spreads his hands. "Essentially, if things progress in a significantly different way from this point on and it does -not- result in the future I'm from, I might vanish. Or, this time-line will stabilize and my own will still exist, and I'll be here as a visitor from an alternate reality."

"Oh... I remember something like that in a book I read once. I liked reading science fiction as a kid... then it appears when I'm an adult," he says "Alternate timelines... I never thought that'd actually be a thing that happened..." he looks at Booster's fading smile, and feels a little guilty for having brought it up, so he thinks quickly "But, hey... cause and effect still apply, right? If you had come from the future that won't exist because whatever, you wouldn't have been here in the first place because your future wouldn't exist. So we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. Unless I am totally mistaken about how the universe works, I'd say cause and effect is a pretty good indication that your future isn't going to vanish... or that that alternate timeline thing is what's going to happen," he pats Booster's shoulder, "Which is good, 'cause I'd hate it if you vanished. You haven't even finished your coffee yet." He gives him a cheshire grin.

"Well, thank you. The idea of never existing is a lot weirder to me than just dying. It's a lonelier idea, for sure," says Booster, grinning faintly again. "Can you imagine? One thing changes, and then you stop existing, and the memories of the people who knew you fade and shift. Pretty sad. Or it would be, if anyone was able to remember it and be sad about it. Anyhow, my suspicion is that something is going on. Because while I traveled to this era on purpose, all of my other future-friends came here against their will. Kind of wondering if someone is messing up the time stream, which doesn't just encompass our here and now, but -all- eventualitates."

"That's pretty bizarre. If I can ever lend a hand, let me know, okay?" He gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze, "Not that I can think there's a lot of scenarios in time traveling in which I'd be useful. But still, the offer stands." And he thought he had problems. Keith might be going through an existential crisis, but if Booster was wright, Booster could be facing a real existencial crisis. And then the thought flashed across his mind: What if he had known other people, before, but couldn't remember he ever did because they never existed? 'Oh, stop it with those thoughts, you're having a conversation!' "Now don't think about that nonsense. You're not someone that anyone would find easy to forget." He recalls Booster's costume and chuckles "... you glitter too much for that."

"Well, I'm working on it. I mean, this whole time issue of course. But also with being memorable." Booster points at Keith with a finger-gun gesture, and winks. "I want to be super famous, again. There are way more opportunities to do that in this era, too, which is one reason why I came here in the first place. But not the only reason. I really do want to be a hero, a -real- hero. This is definitely the best era for -that-, too. In my native time, it's illegal. Vigilante action, power use, all of that."

Keith chuckles, looking at Booster "I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be famous, as long as it doesn't go to your head..." picking up on the stress of the word 'real', he says "You mean as opposed to a fake hero?" he chuckles "What makes you think you're not a real hero?" he says.

"Ehh. I was a sports hero, the only kind of hero you really could be, where I'm from," Booster explains, swirling the remains of his coffee in his cup. "I really bought into it at the time, but... it's pretty superficial." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug. "I'm not saying you have to be able to lift cars and fly around to be a real hero, although that part is freakin' cool as heck. But the point is helping people and making a difference, right? I haven't been at this for too long, so I'm not sure how effective I am at this."

"Well, I've heard of you, so you must be doing something right." Keith gives him an encouraging smile "But... well, nowadays being a football star is a pretty big deal too. I wouldn't say it's superficial, you know how to do something and do it better than others, that gets you some recognition. Why did you give it up, though? It sounds as if you had a good setup." He sips the last of his coffee, glad for the energy. Fortunately his tolerance was such that he could take some more without vibrating himself out of the chair.

"It's ... kind of a long story." Booster turns his coffee cup on the table, watching it contemplatively. "A long story with a really stupid, crappy ending. One in which you get to see your life change around you in crappy ways because you made dumb decisions, and you can't even pretend to be a victim of circumstances because you know you're the one responsible for all of it. So... yeah." He glances up at Keith, his grin returning in a lopsided way. "It's that kind of story. I'm not really going to get into it right now."

"I'm familiar with that kind of story," he says, nodding. "I've met a lot of people who have made dumb choices, and very few of them ever own up to their mistakes. You're all right." He says, returning the grin. "You've given me a lot of things to consider about my powers and how to use them. What can you tell me about your experiences in working with others?"

Booster is quiet for a moment, before he says, "I don't know that I entirely owned up. I mean, I went beyond just leaving the country. But the situation I was in... there was no real way to ever rise above those mistakes, either." Another shrug, and he moves on from this subject. "It's good to know what your teammates can do. And I guess I consider it a 'team' even if it's a group of people you've never met before, but you're thrown together whether you want to be or not. I default to defending anyone who might need it, first. If I know the people around me can handle the situation, -then- it's time to kick butts." The blond man considers this, then conscientiously adds, "Assuming your targets have butts, they don't always."

The feline listens closely and nods. "It's tough going at it on your own... but just as tough being next to someone you have never even talked to. I guess there is someone I have worked with on more than one occasion... Iron Spider. But things are... very awkward between us. Mostly on my side, because he's totally clueless." he chuckles at this.

"Dude, you can't let personal stuff get in your way if you're in combat." Booster shakes his head, pushing his essentially empty coffee cup aside. "If you're into this guy or hate him or whatever is going on, you can't let your feelings compromise his safety, your safety, or the safety of everyone else around you." He folds his arms, resting them on the table, arching a brow as he looks at Keith. "Otherwise you end up with a situation where people are going 'ugh I hate this guy so I won't watch his back as much' or 'wow I think this dude is awesome but I don't want to be a creeper so I'll avoid helping them'. You know?"

"Oh, I'd never do that, you don't need to worry about that. He's someone who...well, to put it figuratively, he was stuck in a jar for eighteen years and knows next to nothing about the outside world except for that little square of experience. I have to be very, very literal with him because he doesn't have the idioms down--- just like that 175 kid I saw at the open house yesterday. You've seen me, I tend to speak in very colorful terms... I apparently short-circuit people like that." he chuckles "... though that's nothing compared to what I did to this chick who was in Gotham. White as snow, with a little black patch of color on her eye. She spazzed out when she saw me."

"...yeah, people in this era can get weird about stuff they don't understand. I just assumed you might have been from a planet I didn't know well," Booster admits, opening his hands in a low key shrug. "As it turns out, the majority of exo-planet beings I know, here, are from the future. And then there's all this weird stuff about mutants, which is utterly baffling. I don't understand why people are freaking out, but I'm learning about it so I can help against that bigotry."

"It's just the fear of the unknown, Booster. It served us when we were a primitive society and exposed to all sorts of things that could kill you with pointy, sharp, flesh-tearing things. But evolution is slower to catch up than we are. At this point in time we all still have an inborn aversion to the unknown and the different. Some more than others, and some manage to conquer it even when it is strong in them, and others give in." He steeples his fingers. "What makes for a handy survival instinct makes for one hell of a bad social one, though, when things start changing as rapidly as they have. I admit... the stares I get sometimes hurt... but I have to remind myself that I'm purpled, and covered in fur, and most people aren't."

"Sharp flesh-tearing things? Ha, do you mean, those things lurking around in 25th century Neojerses territory? Especially west of Gotham, -yikes-." Booster actually looks rather amused. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but if these people think things are changing fast right now, they're in for a wild ride later in this century. Oh... well actually, it's not funny." He sobers up. "It's pretty horrible, although we never had details about what happened or exactly when it happened." Keith O'Neil nods slowly "Sounds like heroes are going to be needed. Glad you're here for the ride with that. Who knows? Maybe things will turn out differently." he says, leaning back on his chair. "Say... at some point when you have time, maybe we could spar and you could give me a few pointers? I'll work on integrating your suggestions into my style and see how I do. Then you can critique me to hell and tell me to try harder." he chuckles.

"Sure. You can come by the Legion headquarters, sometime. It'll be a safer place to do that," offers Booster. "I'm in the process of working out how we can provide self-defense courses for locals, as it is. You know, so your average citizen can learn how to defend themself, and if they have any powers, they can learn how to control them." He glances around, as if to check for eavesdroppers. "That last part, I figured it'd help out anyone who developed powers but didn't want to be open about it in case they get harassed. I don't think we oughta put up with people getting harassed just for being who they are, you know?"

"If only it were that easy," he says quietly. "You're talking to someone who gets cosntantly harassed." he chuckles "Would the legion let you bring in a stranger for sparring, though? I don't want to ruffle any feathers or step on any tails. I eventually hope I'll be good enough to join someone, I'd hate to make a bad impression. I shed all over the place." he quips.

"The lobby of the headquarters is open to the public," Booster explains, smiling. "Also, cleaning robots will sweep up after you. Plus, there's security in place, if you turned out to be a supervillain you wouldn't get too far." He turns his head to look at Keith, sidelong. "I'm pretty sure you're -not- a supervillain. Sometimes Superman or Wonder Woman are there, but I'm not going to promise that you'll run into them."

The feline shakes his head "Oh god, no. Seriously. If I rant into either of them, I would embarrass myself utterly and then I'd have to live in a cave for ten years. It's already embarrassing being me- purple wasn't exactly my favorite color beforehand, you know. And I used to have red hair." He smirks, crossing his arms "...I was proud of my hair, too. It was gorgeous. Now I've got... this." he swipes a strand away from his face "...it's actually getting kinda long. I'll need to cut it. I hope the barber can tell where the hair ends and the fur begins... but enough about that. Me? A supervillain? What, the Frightful Tuna Thief?" He grins, wiggling his eyebrows a la Groucho Marx.

"Heh. I invited one guy in to see the place and Supes was there. Poor kid was so overcome I was actually afraid he was going to have a stroke or something." Booster gives Keith a look up and down. "I think if I tried to give you some kind of pep talk about how 'what is inside is what matters' it'd come across as hollow. I'm pretty aware that I have a look that's idealized in -this- era and country, so I don't want to come across as condescending. It's tough, dude. You're dealing with something that isn't valued by general society, but you're holding up. That's pretty courageous."

"Thanks, Booster," Keith says. 'You only say that 'cause you don't see what I'm like in private' "And no, it wouldn't sound hollow. I'm aware that there are some people who look even more outlandish than I do. They've made a name for themselves, though, so they're seen differently. I guess it makes sense- when people don't know you and you're weird, you can be scary." He takes his wallet out and brings out several bills, which he puts on the table. "This is my treat," he says, enjoying having had his first check, "To show you my appreciation of spending this time with me. Your time is valuable, and the advice you've given me definitely is. I don't get to spend a lot of time with other people."

"It always comes down to PR," Booster grins, sitting back in his chair as he twists the ring on his finger. "A person who has the power to throw a car is going to be scary, no matter what they look like. And like you mentioned earlier, hominids get pretty weird if they see someone who doesn't look just like them. You probably should get seen more often do kind of diminish the shock to your average everyday citizen. I know it'd be dangerous for you, but it's a thought." Sitting up properly, he gestures at the money, saying, "You don't have to do that, but thank you."

The cat shrugs, "I don't have to, but I want to. I hope we can be friends. Unless you are allergic to cats," he grins and stands up. "But I should let you go.. and I need to stop drinking coffee, otherwise I might teleport myself into the moon."

"What? Coffee is one of the great things about this era," Booster tilts his head to look at his empty cup. "It's extinct in mine, and the synthetic stuff is grody. Anyway, I don't have alleriges. Genetic conditioning, see..." He stands up and offers a handshake to Keith. "I'll make sure it's cool to do the sparring thing at our headquarters and I'll let you know, but it should be fine."

Keith blinks for a few seconds. "A world without coffee... Booster... that is horrible!" he says. And he shakes Booster's hand, "Thanks, man. Let me know... I *should* have a phone soon. I'm still hunting for apartments, but at least it means I'll be out of the warehouse soon!"

After picking up his messenger bag and adjusting it so the strap is across his chest, Booster hovers into the air, which does draw a few looks. Putting his sunglasses back on, he says, "Yeah, the food in this era is pretty special. I'm looking forward to trying ice cream. And pizza. Good luck with your stuff, dude. Catch you later!" He briefly pulls his sunglasses down to give a wink to the people who -are- looking his way, and then he is out of the cafe and up into the sky.

Keith O'Neil waves at Booster as he flies away. Then he smirks and looks at the people who are still staring. "I could fly, if I really wanted to," he says, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin and he starts walking away after leaving a tip for the waitress.