Week 60: A Meeting in Moscow

The Even Crayfish was a small little restaurant set back a bit from the main thoroughfare of mid-Moscow Spire. A small courtyard allowed "outside" eating, with a small fountain to help dull the sounds of the roads a row of building over. Unlike most gaudy EI establishments, this little eatery featured a minimalist design with wood paneling and white walls inside, wood tables and a simple menu of 'traditional' European foods. Stews, roasted vegetables, fresh breads, and cured meats made up the menu. Despite the uncomplicated fare, the food was high quality, with many ingredients being 'real' food. The place was quiet inside and about a third full; it was a good place for a late work lunch or a relaxed meeting with friends.

It wasn't a romantic place, but it was plain and the food food came highly rated on the WDN. Light instrumental music was playing; it sounded like a quartet of string instruments. By the door, a waiter was waiting. He had a reservation coming in for two, but no one had shown up yet. With a little sigh, he gave a look out the door to keep an eye out. Wait... He brushed a pale green fringe from his eyes, and blinked. Oh good, someone was coming.

At first glance Ace appeared to be wearing a Khaki military uniform, which was not a surprise for those who knew Ace even a little. A deeper look at this outfit revealed a few other details: The clothing was not military issue, but rather the latest in fashions modelled after real military wear. The cargo pants were a little too baggy and rather than a standard issue shirt he was wearing a Smork(R) brand T-shirt depicting a happy Smorky Pig(TM) drinking a refreshing bottle of Cherry Smork(R). Over this he wore an unbuttoned Khaki jacket, the Official UIG rank slides on the epaulettes declaring him to be a Sergeant-Major. His heavy combat boots betrayed his military nature, and the Cougar, covert shield and obvious cybernetic modifications marked him as an Agent. A third look with a very practiced eye in the right light would be able to see the occasional slight shimmer of conductive wires and refractive weave integrated throughout the outfit, and the best and brightest could identify heavily modified Armorcyne.

Ace moved with a purposeful, yet casual, stride in a manner somewhat dissimilar to his usual march. His more relaxed movements did not betray the subtle turmoil he felt inside. The restaurant had been a difficult find. Authentic, but not over the top in the E.I. Elite’s preferred style. He approached the weather with a practiced smile and spoke with an obvious Feddy accent.

"Good afternoon. I've got a table booked? For two. Name of Nizky."

The waiter-cum-hostess did not have a practiced eye. He could see that Ace was a WF agent and that was all he needed to know. Not big tippers, by and large, but they didn't cause a fuss and they liked the simple good food the Even Crayfish provided. With a brisk little nod, the pretty waiter brushed the hair from his eyes again and flashed a little smile. "Of course, sir. Just over here."

With a little flourish the waiter led the way to a small booth, actual paper menus in hand. He waited until Ace was seated before giving him a menu and placing the other one delicately across the table from him. "I assume the other member of your party will be here momentarily...? Shall I start you off with anything? Bread? ...Drinks?" There was a little note of hope in the last word; the Feds drank long and deep, and they tended to enjoy their time here.

Ace took a quick glance at the menu before replying. "Let's start with a basket of bread and some olives. And I'll have a beer. A real one, if you have it. Something with depth." Ace couldn't help but remember the bottle Ida had given him almost a year ago. Nothing else he had tried had tasted quite that good, but some of the beers he'd tasted had come close.

"Oh yes sir. Very good sir." The waiter flashed another little smile and a nod before bustling off to go put the order in. Good beer could be provided. Perhaps something with a little extra zip, for an agent. Oh yes, very good.

As he made his way toward the chefs in the kitchen, he gave another glance toward to door. No one yet, but hopefully soon. Maybe after the first drink? Hm.

It had been a long time since Darya had last stepped foot in Moscow Spire. Somebody her parents knew, possibly an old university friend, lived here when Darya was young, and she had visited a few times. She didn't know whether they were still there now, and attempts to get in contact with people after the incident had been fruitless, but she still remembered some things. The constant, low rumbling of aircraft that kept her awake in the sleeping bag in their spare room next to Natasha and Lev when she was six was still here, as the was the huge sign of "Welcome To Moscow" in English, Russian and German hanging above the entrance from the civilian airport. She tucked her hands into her pockets and walked quickly through the crowd towards the meeting point. Although it was summer, she had been living in India for a while now, and it felt very cool to her.

As she approached the restaurant, she straightened out the jacket she was wearing over a dress like shirt and suit trousers, and tucked her loose hair back behind her ear, before nodding and heading inside. She was always a bit nervous about dates with Ace. She did like him, but still...

She pulled open the door, and waited for the greeter.

The busy waiter had just dropped off a bottle of good, strong beer and the Fed's appetizers when another person walked in. Pale, serious, Russian looking... A possible date, or maybe just someone looking for a light lunch. He brushed his pale green hair from his eyes and flashed her a slightly rushed smile. He appeared to be the only wait staff on for today. "Ah, yes, hello," he grinned, speaking a soft but very clear Russian. "How can I help you today, miss?"

Darya replied in similarly clear Russian. "Ah, I'm meeting someone here. Name of Nizky?" she asked, scanning the room for signs of Ace, catching his eye and waving to him across the room.

Iiiinteresting... With the same fast, knowing little smile, the waiter gestured over to where Ace was sitting. "Please, feel free to go on through. I'll be over with another menu in a second."

As he sat and waited Ace's eyes took in the surroundings, attempting to critically examine the furnishings and people. The place wasn't too lavish and most of the people were just people, some obvious modifications being cosmetic rather than practical. He took a deep draught of his beer and tried an olive. He'd not had olives before, and the taste was.. odd. The beer was good, though, if not a little heavy.

Darya came in as he was looking through the menu and reading the intricate diacriptions of the meals. His face lit up into a genuine smile as he returned her wave with a small one of his own. He's gaze didn't stray from her as she walked over to him.

Darya nodded to the greeter and made her way through to the table where Ace was seated. "Hey. Sorry I'm a bit late" she said, slipping into the seat and returning Ace's smile.

"That's alright; I'm still looking at the menu." He gestured to the small items already present on the table, "I got a few things to start with, while we decide. I'm sure the waiter will be back in a moment for your drink order.” His eyes flicked back to the menu for a short moment but it was quickly forgotten as he looked up at Darya again. “How was your journey here?”

"Not too bad" she said, before laughing slightly. "Though it was slightly nerve wracking when the plane seemed like it was going to just hit the spire rather than land."

She picked up a menu of her own, scanning it briefly. "How are things going with you. I mean, the bits you can tell me about."