( kat has no idea when or where she learned how to do her makeup, but it sure did come in handy for the undercover op she and bill just got back from. now that they've done the debriefing thing, kat has decided to go find a party... or maybe a coffee shop, whatever. she just feels like she shouldn't waste this rare night where she has on eyeliner so sharp it could slice into the first asshole that tries to lie to her about who she is and how they met.

she lets the ~flow of the moment (maybe the remains of memories, maybe old favorites she's long forgotten) lead her into a dim, hip little shop where everyone's either talking poetry or tapping away on a laptop. first free seat she sees is next to a lone girl with some tech, so there kat goes, sitting heavily on the seat next to the girl. )

Fucking hipsters, am I right?

( she hopes this girl's not a hipster, that would be awk-ward. )

( Eyeliner so sharp it could kill a man is kind of Six's thing. Well, she has a long list of Things - clothes blacker than the coffee sat next to her, metal accessories which glint like blades and the snap click of keys as she works. Things that make her seem like she's dangerous, even when fighting has always been beyond her.

It's a facade that's sharply ruined by the way her expression immediately brightens up at company, her attention lifted from lines of code and given over to a total stranger with killer eyeliner. She's so here for it. )

I mean, they're, like, the best coffee makers. I just pretend their ugly little beards give them that power.

( given kat spent a loooong time (...longish? longer than a month, for sure) around underground alpha fights, even fighting (and WINNING! never letting bill forget that) some herself, six's appearance didn't put her off.

and hey, that's a legitimately friendly look on her face, sweet. )

Oh my god. The downside to making the best coffee is that your facial hair only grows in an ugly beard. Wait'll I tell Rosen that one.

( kat pls. )

what's good?

( all kat remembers is office coffee, and it's... okay. it's like she knows she's had better but she can't remember it. so. ask the regular in a lowkey way. )

( UH HOLD up there is a menu on this table which Six grabs, running one finger - nails perfectly filed but polish slightly chipped - down until she stops at: )

Colombian Roast latte. ( Another skim of the menu and - ) Bourbon Espresso, black.

( Those are her favourites anyway. But more to the point: )

Who's Rosen? ( Hello, gossip. And, very seriously: ) Does he have an ugly beard?

( cool. she likes the sound of the bourbon espresso, but all she can think about is bill all amped up during a chase, so she signals for one of the bearded hipsters and orders a latte instead. if she hates it, she'll give it to this girl. win-win. )

He's my boss. He has a pretty normal old man beard.

( he'd probably resent being called old, but eehh where is the lie. )

But he might've had an uglier one when he was younger, I dunno. Maybe I'll ask him.

( she'll record it when she does. it'll probably be hilarious. )

... Like Santa? ( Six no don't go there, even with that laughter dancing in your tone. ) I guess you're, like, the right height for an elf.

( JESUS CHRIST SIX. )

[






What the fuck.]

Seriously? I'm not that short. Dr. Rosen doesn't even make me look that short. I am not the right height for an elf.

[But you kind of are, Kat.]

This coffee's on you.

( And in response? Six just... bursts out laughing. It's not mean spirited, just highly, highly amused. )

I like you.

( She'll pay for the coffee, it's fine. )

What's your name, anyway?

[That laugh does the trick. Kat's annoyance isn't anything Really Serious anyway -- why waste the time and energy on something you won't even remember after a month? -- so when Six laughs, so does Kat, first faking reluctance, and then completely, totally chill.]

I'm Kat. You?

'Zanna. Suzie. ( Shrug. There's Six, which she's most used to now, but Kat is still enough of an unknown force that she doesn't quite bring up the whole online hacker identity just yet. ) I mean, it's whatever, innit? Some guy at work called me Spikes yesterday 'cause I was wearin' 'em. Still answered him.

[Is it really whatever? Like, it kind of has to be for Kat, given... she has no idea if Kat is even her real name. But if she ever found out her birth name, would she let herself forget it? Or would she do something as crazy tattoo it onto herself somewhere so she'll never forget it again?]

Spikes is a badass nickname. Some guy called me Kitty Kat once, but he only wanted me for my body.

[Or, well-- for her blood. Asshole.]

( That... does sound like men. Six grimaces at the idea. )

Ugh. Minging. Guys are, like, the worst. I don't even get it. They're not even cute?

( Priorities. )