Jayzus! Sorry for not being an asshole. Is what he would have said if he didn't know full well that in NYC he was the one that came off like an asshole. Also if he felt like actually being one. "I'm some form of celebrity these days, smiling and waving at people looking at me is part of the image. Publicists orders. I can't afford the jerk persona some actors have. Though I can see how if you can't always remember people it would get confusing."

Also...

"I'm from way further south than that. Don't tell me my accent is fading. Actually after five years I guess it probably is." Well, there went his Aussie identity. Left as a trace accent in the background of an American one. Hardly a tragedy, but certainly a part of himself he'd miss.

"Not talking about it doesn't make it go away. Technology helps me most of the time, but it can be tinkered with."

The myriad of tattoos was frankly impressive. Hard to lose a tattoo. One hoped they wouldn't just disappear on their own, or be removed...

"I get by."

"Smart." Highly insightful. Cafas wondered how many times someone lost their name though. Surely that was firmly ingrained. Still, what did he know? He didn't have a leaky memory. Well, no leakier than most. "Glad the worst of my powers is ruined cutler and migraines when I over extend it." Which weren't fun, but they also weren't having to tattoo safe people and places on himself in order to remember.

"I bet you could retrieve that lost contact pretty easy. Google usually has an answer for accidents like that." He'd hate to think she'd lost her best friend permanently. It was bad enough when he'd gone through it.

Can we just, for one second, talk about HOW MUCH HAIR SHE HAS!?! It's nuts! Like, look at that plait! Look at it! It's like my forearm!

Way more south? Ohhhhh. Austraaaalian. She could pinpoint it now that she was paying attention.

...

"Clearly your publicist is trying to kill you." He/she/it/they were expecting him to walk around with a dangerous day job yet provided no bodyguards. They wanted him to be friendly to strangers in New York and expected people to... What? Be nice back? "They're in LA, aren't they?" Freaking hippies.

"If they care about their franchise and their investment in you, they'll provide someone for you. Seriously. You should have your people call my people." She grinned. Guarding Cafas couldn't be that difficult.

> "I bet you could retrieve that lost contact pretty easy."

"Really?" She was usually pretty tech savvy, but she knew that she hadn't saved her numbers onto her sim card. Noel made a quick search on google but a quick scan didn't give her much hope.

"Uhm. Here." The memorymancer passed her phone over, left open to her google drive account. It was full of notes with simple, uncomplicated labels. Of course there was one labeled Cafas. "I have Gmail and stuff. I don't remember if I've backed up my numbers. Is it automatic?" She came around to look over his shoulder, braid swinging in her wake.

"If they care about their franchise and their investment in you, they'll provide someone for you. Seriously. You should have your people call my people."

"Sounds like you're just trying to get an excuse to hang out, cos that's all it's be."

Cafas couldn't imagine a scenario he would need a body guard for. It was always nice to know someone had your back, but he hated to put people at risk on his account. It was bad enough one person in danger, putting another in usually just distracted him. Unless it was Saph. It was hard to imagine a situation Saph couldn't just energy blast his way out of.

Well, there was that one time with the red guy...

Cafas accepted the offered phone. It couldn't be too hard, looked like a relatively modern phone, definitely had internet access, which meant cloud access.

"I have Gmail and stuff. I don't remember if I've backed up my numbers. Is it automatic?"

"Most of the time, yeah. If it isn't you could always plug it in to your computer and restore it from there. Most of these things store a back up online and on your pc." His certainly did.

Dang, no opportunity to add a note to his own folder if she was going to watch. Fair enough too, random guy she just met had her phone. He did take the opportunity to take a selfie with them both in it though.

Cafas checked the settings for a "cloud" option. It wasn't particularly hard to find. Within were a few options. "Restore from cloud" looked promising. He tried it. Check-boxes. Contacts. Restore without replacing. Progress bar. "That should hopefully do it." He handed the phone back.

"So what could possibly be in that "Cafas" folder already?"

Cafas did not have google drives, he was unaware of its function, otherwise he would not have asked.

> "Sounds like you're just trying to get an excuse to hang out, cos that's all it's be."

"Yeah, but the people I usually get paid to hang out with are snobs. Or druggies or just want to make themselves feel more important. Or, every once in a while, they just have an overbearing father who's richer than god." Those were usually okay, but those kinds of fathers often gave her an earful afterward for something she may or may not have done.

Cafas restored her phone and she flipped through it. "Success!" Oh. Well. Kind of. "The picture is still gone, but at least his info's not. I have to take a new picture every time anyway." Which meant it would still be a pain to find him but at least now they could play phone tag. Noel shot him a quick text to tell him she'd already had gelato today.

> "So what could possibly be in that "Cafas" folder already?"

"It's just some notes. Look. You haven't had time for me to put anything bad in there."

She leaned back toward him and thumbed back to his file. She even clicked it open right then and there. It went a little something like this.

Cafas Johnson has his own freaking wikipedia page.
He has pink hair. Get over it. He's only gay for a fluffy cop named Kailey. (Girl name? wth?)
Australian.
X-Man. (Only one I've met?)
Metal manip. (Change melting point and other properties. Gets headaches from overuse. Jaws of life = sad face)
Can use big fat man swords!
Claims to be famous. (Double check Dusklight films. And socks.)

What happened in Romania that pulled mutant SWAT overseas?

"See? Not that much." And certainly nothing bad.

If he cared to scroll through there were several other names he could take his pick from including a few he might recognize like Sebastian and Lori.

"Yeah, but the people I usually get paid to hang out with are snobs. Or druggies or just want to make themselves feel more important. Or, every once in a while, they just have an overbearing father who's richer than god."

"Keep hanging out with druggies and we might just find out who fights better" A wink to seal that as a joke. Well, sort of a joke... Depended on the druggies. There was that one time with the violinist... He'd never be a problem again. Well, maybe for the cleaners.

"It's just some notes. Look. You haven't had time for me to put anything bad in there."

Well, not to worry, he'd probably end up with something bad in there at some point. His morality tended to do that flippy floppy thing when his emotions got in the way. Cafas needed to work that particular kink out. He knew a few genuinely good people. People who would refuse to bend their moral code ever.

Cafas felt like he changed his every other month. True it normally had something to do with his situation. He felt that was probably how the rest of humanity did it.

At least you gave up that whole "Murder the criminals" thing. It's not becoming of a guy that used to steal more than he payed for.

"Well I'm glad really. I'd be a bit worried if I had bad notes already."

He had, after all, let her eat his gelato. Not that he actually missed out... or minded. Cafas backed out of his own file and did a quick scroll down. "Hmm, Sebastian... I can only imagine THAT file has some stuff in it... Still, it would feel like cheating to pick up that much information on one of the biggest lunatics on the east coast."

Why do I vaguely recognise the name Lori?

No, Cafas resisted the strong temptation. If for nothing else, it was rude.

More fool me...

"What do you cost to hire anyway?" Might be nice to have a body guard or two at events at the very least. That way he might be able to actually get through a crowd.

"You think Sebastian sticks to your same notions of fairplay?" Noel shrugged and took back her phone. If he didn't want it, no need to force it on him. She still had a lot of respect for Sebastian, all things considered.

>"What do you cost to hire anyway?"

Noel leaned back against the wrought iron table rather than sitting down again. She gave him two numbers, one par for the course as far as muscle went. The other was a tad exorbitant. "I have one other talent that makes me ideal for some special jobs, but it comes at great personal cost." Noel tapped her temple, the leaky sieve. "I told the boss, no personal loss without monetary gain." Hence the two differing amounts and small savings. Noel'd put such heavy restrictions on its use that she'd hardly been hired out for any of those jobs lately.

"Honestly, if you asked my company to send someone to stiffarm the press for you, they'd give you someone much more 'Grogg Smash!' unless, for some reason, you asked for me." Winning smile, winning smile. Was that a camera flash?

"You think Sebastian sticks to your same notions of fairplay?"

A sad sigh escaped Cafas. "No." It was all that had to be said. Partly though, he just didn't want to know. If he knew enough, sure, he could try and take him down. The guy was immortal though. He could heal, presumably from anything. How do you beat someone who would live long enough that any prison containing him would crumble to dust around them?

The first amount he figured he could manage. Heck he was pretty sure he could convince the publicity agency to cover the security costs for events. The second was a little bit more than he was willing to spend, especially without knowing what he was paying for. "Uh, what does the higher price get people? I mean, I assume it's some sort of memory thing?" The loss, he assumed, came from her colander of a memory.

Not that I have much need of those things.

"Honestly, if you asked my company to send someone to stiffarm the press for you, they'd give you someone much more 'Grogg Smash!' unless, for some reason, you asked for me."

"I think I can remember to specify you. My people... Well, there's a reason I try to be self sufficient. They'll probably get multiple people if I ask." Multiple seemed like it would be necessary.

Flash.

Cafas tried to keep his face neutral. Wouldn't do to have one of those typical 'celebrity annoyed by media' pics. Well, he was just leaving anyway. "Alright, welcome to your trial. I recognise those TMZ guys when I see 'em. I don't feel like talking to them. Let's see what you got." Cafas stood, waved and smiled to the camera.

My bet is someone tweeting about me.

He began walking to his motorbike. "Looks like I'm giving you a lift home and all. No kiss at the door though, it was bad enough when Calley fell for the whole me dating Allison media BS."

> "I mean, I assume it's some sort of memory thing?"

"Yeah." He probably didn't need to know. Fiddling with people's memories was akin to robbing them of a little piece of themselves. Some of the requests she got made her stomach turn, but Cafas... he didn't seem the type.

'Course, the worst ones often seemed the most normal.

Another flash. Noel didn't move until Cafas did because she didn't want to make it worse.

She saw his public veneer slid into place as soon as the metal manip caught sight of a couple gear-clad photographers.

"No problem there. I got intimacy issues." Noel joked and it wasn't a lie. She didn't want the whole of Cafas' memory. She much preferred to have good people around her to keep her from falling in with the wrong crowd again.

The memorymancer casually moved her body between the cameras and Cafas. He was taller and bulkier, but she made it a muddy shot. Some bodyguards took bullets. It was good these guys weren't actually shooting. Just as Cafas became jolly, Noel found herself on high alert, checking exits and alternate routes.

"Also, you don't have to drop me off anywhere. You slip away on your deathtrap. I can probably keep them from following you by staying behind." People were starting to turn and take notice. They did that when it turned into an awkward trailing entourage.

He had to admit, for all the disadvantages her build offered in the situation, Noel was doing a damn good job of ruining their photos. For his part he just kept smiling at the cameras. The TMZ guys never even got close, and any potential rumour of them dating was quashed the minute she went into bodyguard mode.

"Also, you don't have to drop me off anywhere. You slip away on your deathtrap. I can probably keep them from following you by staying behind."

Yeah, people didn't view motorcycles as safe transport usually. Not the sane ones anyway.

"Suit yourself, hope you're prepared for hose guys to follow you wherever you're going." They'd never keep up with him. Not it NYC traffic. Much as he wasn't proud of it Cafas had taken to that oldest of motorcycling traditions, riding between lanes of traffic. No one in a car really stood a chance.

Not that they wont try for a couple of blocks if it's a slow day.

Speaking of his motorcycle. Cafas unlocked his helmet from his bike, put it on then swung his leg over. Key in ignition, twist. The bike sprang to life under him. "Last chance." He used the opportunity to signal out. It would make the getaway a bit quicker either way.

> "...hope you're prepared for hose guys to follow you wherever you're going."

"I'm prepared." Her smile was self-assured. She had a plan. So a wave later, Cafas and Noel split ways. When the memorymancer figured she had walked far enough away, she pulled out a marker from her pocket for a quick note on the inside of her hand.

"Miss? Excuse me?"

By stopping to write, she'd given them a chance to catch up.

"Excuse me?" There was a brilliant flash as she turned, smile already in place. "You know Cafas?"
"You guys friends?"
"More than friends?"
"What's the deal?"

There were two of them. That complicated things a bit, but it would have been worse if there had been more. "Look. Can I level with you guys? I only just met the guy for the first time today. No clue he was famous and I'm a little freaked out by the photos. What do you guys get paid for photos like these? Is it something I could afford to buy off of you?"

They haggled, always wheedling for more information. She was lucky that it was the truth that Cafas and herself had absolutely nothing going on or else she would have sabotaged herself.

In the end, Noel walked away substantially poorer, but the photographers walked away with no memory of seeing her and no memory on their cameras at all. She'd gotten them to erase the photos.