It was such a nice day!  The sun was soft and warm, and the sky wasn't even too bright for his fog-raised eyes. And it wasn't so hot that his head got too warm under his hat! His dear, wonderful, amazing hat. It was so great, with its evil grin and sparkly little bell that still shed glitter every now and then. Last year's Halloween. He'd shoved as much glitter as he could into it so that he could fling 'magic dust' on everyone.

So great.  His hat deserved many heart emoticons.  Angle bracket three!

Today could have a heart emoticon too.  And this park!  And that song from the movie about Lego!

Memo spun around on one toeshoe-clad foot, purely enjoying the feel of the air moving through his outstretched fingers and bouncing a few curly chunks of his hair against his cheek. Continuing on his way, he absently scratched the side of his hand, almost thinking there might have been a mosquito there. Felt like it. He still expected to be able to hear them before seeing them.

A narrow streak of black running from second knuckle to mid-forearm blinked to white, and Memo paused in his step.

He'd cut that hand.  Rather badly.

As pain woke all along that remembered injury, he slowly looked down at his arm.

There was blood dripping off his fingers.  Maybe dripping was an understatement.  Yes.  Understatement.  VERY MUCH UNDERSTATEMENT.  LOTS OF BLOOD.  LOTS OF OW.  LOTS OF OW OW OW OW

The scene may have transformed from idyllic typical park scene to probable attempted murder scene, with the apparent victim running down the path waving his bleeding hand and making a veritable mess - and a biohazard-contaminated one at that - of the pretty little walkway.

It was finally a nice day. Emphasis on the word finally. It seemed like most of Juliette's time over the past few weeks had been spent avoiding the cold and searching for alternative forms of energy. But not that day. No, that day was sunny and warm. She could sit on a park bench and enjoy the weather without having to worry.

It was a Froyo day. Definitely a Froyo day. She stood up off her bench and stretched for a moment before getting in line at the little food truck.

It was a short line, and before long, Juliette stood on the pretty little walkway with a little cup of Froyo and a pleased smile. Yes, a good day indeed.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, someone came running down the street. It wouldn't have been a big deal except that he was SPURTING BLOOD FROM HIS HAND.

Not just a little pool, either. No, it looked like he had severed his jugular from the amount of blood that sprayed passers by.

Juliette was caught in the wake of the spurting blood, and gasped a little as her Froyo was quickly turned into a bloodbath. She dumped the little cup into the garbage and then turned to the cause of all the mayhem.

She approached him quickly and calmly, grabbing his flailing hand out of the air. "Let me bandage this up for you," she said quickly as she searched for the cause of the injury.

OW PAIN VERY MUCH PAIN OW

Oh hey someone grabbed his hand -

...

Hadn't that murdery guy, the one before the skeleton lady, stomped on that hand? Right where the red-splattered woman was touching?

He could remember - and now hear - the bones popping like dry twigs wrapped in soggy leaves. And the pain. So much more pain. And more blood too, with bone shards forced out through his contorted palm.

On the plus side, he'd forgotten about the first gash and it had already vanished, its memory-mark now a calm, dull black against his brown skin. The spiral across the back of his hand? Still white, for the moment.

Juliette heard the sickening crunch of bone as she grabbed the man's hand. Had she grabbed it too hard? No, that was impossible. There was no way that she had the strength to break someone's hand with sheer force alone. Especially not the way it had broken.

"Oh my god," Juliette gasped audibly. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry. Let me take a look at that for you."

She turned his hand over, examining the bone shards that jutted out of his hand. She hardly even noticed the fact that his gash had healed; she was far too preoccupied.

"This is going to be difficult to set," she told him sympathetically as she grabbed his other arm with her hand. He had odd markings all over it, just like his hand it. She hardly thought that it would matter that she touched him exactly where a marking was.

A tiny piece of Memo's mind observed that the woman was very distressed on his account, and was honoured. Most of his mind was just going OW, but the initial shock was fading into mere extreme throbbing.

Okay, okay. He could get a handle on himself. He'd been through this, and worse. Breeeaaaatttthhhheeeeee oh he liked that song!

When the notes, and the memory of how the muscles and tendons and joints in his hands and forearms moved when he played it, bloomed in his mind and hands, he didn't even need to throw himself into the memory to completely forget that one hand happened to be very much broken. Then again, because he'd forgotten, the damage was already gone and there was no particular repercussion to his air-keyboarding. Such a good tune-

Oh hey person. Covered in blood. Er. That was his blood, wasn't it? Yes. Without going into detail even in his head, that was his blood. He should apologize for that. Even if it was with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that," he said meekly, attempting to extricate his arm without making any new skin contact. "The weather was too nice to wear gloves. Also, I forgot." He didn't mean to prove how much of an airhead he was, but hey he was honest. He had forgotten. Absolutely and completely. He'd forgotten something else too, hadn't he?

....what had he forgotten? Hmm.

He caught himself a breath's space from resting a fist on his chin. Hmmm.

As if it hadn't been strange enough for the man to walk down the street with a bleeding arm and then mysteriously break his arm, he had started to play air-piano. Air-piano.

Juliette didn't even know how to respond to him, removing her hands immediately. She stood with her mouth open, watching him in disbelief.

After a moment or so of confusion, she noticed that his injuries had disappeared and were replaced with the black markings that covered most of the rest of his body.

Okay, so definitely a mutant, she noted. She had to stop running into strange mutants in the street and offering the medical care - it was starting to become like a hobby. Although not one that she sought out.

>>"Sorry about that, The weather was too nice to wear gloves. Also, I forgot."

"That's... That's alright," Juliette said slowly. "I'm sorry if I set anything off."

Memo drooped. Rather visibly, though it would have been more obvious if he'd been taller. She was freaked out. His plan wasn't usually to freak people out. Just at Halloween and such, or if they were weird. Or if he were bored and that happened to sound like a good idea. None of those described right now!

"It's not your fault! Not your fault at all. I'm just really good at forgetting things. Like that I had forgotten about getting injured. I mean, sometimes it's really useful and helpful and avoids a lot of pain and permanency, but there are definitely random other times like this. I'm not very good at intentionally forgetting. Or at remembering this stuff. It's still kind of new."

Inhale in a big rush, too many words in a row to recover air in between.

... now what?

OH he should try to explain. Not that he had a solid explanation down, or that he'd be likely to remember it if he did. Had he ever worked out a proper explanation or understanding? He couldn't think of it, or of the tangents that associated significant efforts. Tangents were sometimes easier to find, sometimes harder.

Nope, nothing. Improv time!

Memo flicked the bell on his hat with a finger out of sheer impulsively amused impulse. "I forget being injured. Or getting healed. Or that I haven't actually had anything to drink yet, or if I've already had enough shots to be on-the-floor wasted. Orrrrrr-" he paused to think, and for a moment it seemed the pause was going to extend into 'trailed off.'

Then it did.

And then he forgot he'd trailed off, and continued like there'd been no pause at all. "Sometimes I forget how long my hair is. That's always weird. I think. I don't remember how much that's happened. ... I'm pretty sure it's happened at least a few times. I think I do remember my hair length being weird like that.

Insert grin. Totally not trying to weird out this helpful pleasant totally freaked out woman.

Juliette just stood there watching him with a confused expression as he talked at an impressive speed. Almost everything that he said went right over her head, but she managed to catch the last bit.

>>"Sometimes I forget how long my hair is. That's always weird. I think. I don't remember how much that's happened. ... I'm pretty sure it's happened at least a few times. I think I do remember my hair length being weird like that."

He grinned afterwards. Was she supposed to respond? She wasn't even sure exactly what was going on.

"Um, sometimes I look in the mirror and I'm surprised by how much my hair's grown," she supplied, hoping that was the right kind of response. If she was being honest, she had no idea what he was talking about. "Perhaps you just got used to your appearance?"

Memo let himself droop sideways a bit. She didn't get it. That was understandable but not happy. He'd liked his mom's reaction to all this level of 'oh hey I'm __' stuff: food and 'okay.' She was super awesome.

Hey, had he actually told this poor confused person that he was a mutant? That might help. A lot. Or, historically, get him attacked and possibly murdered, but that was a temporary setback. For him. Now. Possibly with some set of restrictions he didn't know about. Bah. Whatever. This was all still a boost because otherwise he'd be dead already, so hah.

"I'm a mutant," he explained helpfully. "Things I remember about myself are real. Kind of. It's weird. Don't worry! It only affects me. As far as I know. I don't think I'm one of those world-altering super power people. That would be so overwhelming I don't want to be like that wow."

Breathe, Memo.

"Does that make more sense?"

Oh, Juliette realized, that made more sense. His mutation had something to do with his memory. She had caught on to the fact that he was a mutant much earlier, but his powers remained a mystery.

"Yes, that makes more sense," Juliette told him, letting out a small breath. "Sorry, I got a little confused by the hair thing. The bones breaking were a little distracting as well."

Since the confusion was out of the way, she finally had a second to look down. She was covered in blood. Great. She hadn't even started her shift yet and she looked like she had covered a car accident or something. Plus, she had lost her Froyo.

"Well, uh-" she started to ask him something and then realized that she hadn't ever asked for his name "-sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

Yay she understood and was less freaked out! Now today was getting better again. "The hair thing is super confusing. If I get it cut and then forget I did I have to get it cut all over again!" Or just remember how he'd had it cut, but that took remembering something specific intentionally. That was hard.

Memo adjusted his hat a bit to keep the brim between his eyes and the sun, and then blinked at the woman. Oh, name? He could do that. That was a harder one to forget; people reminded him, and it was on his work vest! So thoughtful of corporate.

"My name's August, but I usually go by Memo. Have for years. It's actually from my middle name but it makes so much more sense than my first name, doesn't it?" He grinned, really quite okay with his flighty memory and need for reminders.

"Yeah, it does," Juliette agreed. "It's nice to meet you, Memo."

She paused for a moment and looked around. She had really been looking forward to the Froyo. Biting her lip, she turned back to Memo. He seemed nice, although a little frantic. She glanced at his vest - it looked corporate of some kind. She hoped that she wasn't keeping him from anything. Although, it really was his injury that caused the conversation to take place.

"I think I'm going to get some more Froyo," she told him. "Frozen yogurt, that is. Do you want some?"

Memo may have noticed that he didn't catch the woman's name, but then again he might have just forgotten it already. As it was, he didn't really remember that he didn't know it, and just trundled on through life. "Nice to meet you too! Sorry for the whole craziness - and mess, I'm really sorry about that. I wish I could forget that outside things happened and have them go away. That'd be useful sometimes. I just forget that I have stains." Insert dramatic sigh, then realization (again) that she was covered in his blood. Why couldn't his blood forget that it existed outside of his body? Maybe that was something he could work on. If he remembered. He should make a memo to himself about it!

He had his phone in his hand and the screen half unlocked when he heard froyo. "Froyo's great! I'd-" Right she was covered in blood, in his blood, his bleeding had ruined the froyo she'd already had. That was his bad. "How about I treat you? Least I can do for making yours fit for a vampire. Sorry about that. Totally my fault, really should have worn gloves." Or even just remembered what marking was where, but then -

He knew that one! That was the stripe down his nose. No no no, don't trigger it, he didn't need to stand there and catalogue himself to himself. Ahem. Where was he in whatever he was doing?

FROYO. Budgets bedamned. Why was his phone in his hand? He'd probably been about to make a note of something.

...

Maybe he'd remember later. Who knew! Not him. He'd deal with that later; for now, froyo, for which he should start walking since he could see the little stand cart truck thing and didn't have to try to remember where it might be.

>>"Froyo's great! I'd-"

"Great," Juliette smiled at him. He stopped midsentence and his eyes seemed to trail down her. She instinctively narrowed her brow at him. Was there something weird about her today? Then she connected the fact that she was covered in his blood. Oh, yeah. She glanced around, realizing that she was also garnering stares from passersby. It would probably be a good idea to go home and change soon.

>>"How about I treat you? Least I can do for making yours fit for a vampire. Sorry about that. Totally my fault, really should have worn gloves."

She considered his offer, about to decline, but then she realized that she had already spent a lot on her first cup, and she would need change for coffee during her shift. "I... Alright, that sounds nice," she nodded at him.

She was frowning why was she frowning -

Did she think he was checking her out? Errrrr if he were interested in her, he doubted it would be mutual. Dating was something for when he was older and had sorted other things out for himself. Also he'd had more than enough of boobs for one lifetime. TOPIC CHANGE.

Like what kind of froyo should he get? There were so many options and pretty much all of them were always new unless something spectacular happened so that he built a thorough memory on it. Hmmmm.....

Memo fished his wallet out of his back pocket while they walked, a woefully undersized thing with a faded cartoon character of uncertain identity (it was really, really faded) overflowing with crumpled receipts and forgotten notes and memos and reminders. He thumbed out his current credit card in preparation, briefly wondered if this cart would accept it, and then grinned to see the little 'VISA/MasterCard' sign stuck on the side. All good!

"So, what non-vampire flavour were you aiming for today?"