Once again, Manfish found himself in a coffee shop; for some reason, coffee seemed to be the date of choice. What was it about him that made girls think 'I need coffee?' Well, he supposed it was better than bars. Though, at this rate, he was starting to think maybe he'd have to get a girl boozed up before she'd be attracted to him. But he foresaw that ending in a very drunk girl telling him he was still ugly before passing out. Oh well. 

He looked over the e-mail on his phone, ensuring he had the right date, place, and time. Which he did. He sighed. Forty five minutes went by, and this girl didn't show. However, seeing as how he was a giant fish-man in a black wetsuit topped off by a brown leather jacket...he wasn't surprised. Actually, he was surprised this was the first one who actually stood him up. 

Sighing, the large fish adjusted his goggle-glasses, went up to the counter, and got a refill on his coffee, and because he needed chocolate, a few chocolate donuts. "Should have seen this one coming," he muttered to himself.

Jack was not the woman in-question. And, if she'd any inkling of what it meant to be "the woman in-question", that would be quite miraculous. She'd been on her way home from Xavier's, en route to her house for a nap, before continuing on to Xavier's. She was most of the way home when the prawn determined that tea was in order, and detoured to a cafe that was only a few blocks off of her route.

The prawn pushed open the door, a soft bell jingling above her head as she crossed the threshold. A cold breeze followed her in. Forcing the door shut, the prawn then found her spot in line, lavender eyes trained on the menu. Ah, they did seem to have tea. Though the flesh of her palms with calloused and thick, she could feel the cold that was seeping into her core. Hot tea, it was.

She was remarkable in her usual ways-- looming, iridescent, and with a presence much akin to an active, urban young man. Cargo pants, hoodie over a waffle-knit henley, and a scarf over her mouth. At least it wasn't snowing, but the biting cold was harsh enough. Jack fished the phone out of her pocket, and allowed her text-to-speech application to make the order for her.

"Hello sir, what could I get started for you today?"

Typical mistake. Jack scrolled to the appropriate voice, a male voice with a vaguely Australian, yet robotic, tinge to the tone.

<<Yes, I would like the black tea. Extra-hot.>>

The barista quirked an eyebrow, yet said nothing.

"Will that be all for you today?"

A flurry of typing. <<Yes, thank you.>>

"For here, or to-go?"

<<For here.>>

It was, as Jack would politely phrase it, f**king freezing. She could stand to stay inside for a little while, at least while she enjoyed some tea. Jack handed her cash to the woman at the register, and then made her way to a small, unoccupied table, depositing her messenger bag.

He watched the exchange between the newcomer and the barista from his safe spot at the table. Though his mutation didn't give him any abilities like shooting lasers or devouring ships(though he could flip one over if he so chose), he did gain a few...innate abilities from his mutation. For example, he was the only one in the room who realized that this newcomer was clearly a woman. After all, the whiskers on his chin weren't just aesthetic, though they did look like a pretty nifty beard.

Sighing to himself as he saw the woman sit down, he figured since his date wasn't going to show, that he might as well make use of the time to get to know someone. Grabbing his coffee, the fish-man walked over to the shrimp-lady's table.

"Would you like a little company, ma'am?" he asked politely, carefully to emphasize the fact that he knew her gender, which he could tell from the look of her that few people--if any--did.

He did notice that she was considerably larger than he was; which...made him a little uncomfortable. Being six feet, he was used to having some who were a little taller, but he could tell that if she were to stand up straight, he'd be dwarfed in comparison. No matter; he wasn't looking for a date now, anyway, merely a companion to make his failed date go away.

The prawn was set her things down beside her chair, removing her coat and draping it over the back before taking her seat. The scarf soon followed. She set her phone face down on the table, and slouched in her chair. Not a minute after taking her seat, someone approached her. Her antennae perked. He looked like a fish. A rather stacked fish, too. Complete with wetsuit, goggles, and a leather bomber. Interesting choice in clothes.

>> "Would you like a little company, ma'am?"

The prawn shifted from her slouch, to a more attentive posture. One arm planted its elbow on the table, crooking a massive hand beneath her chin. The other flipped her phone over. She dropped her gaze, inputting her response in the text-to-speech app.

<<What makes you think I'm a ma'am?>> the clipped, synthetic male voice inquired. Her gaze returned to the fish, tilting her head slightly. What the tone of the application didn't convey was that the prawn was just genuinely curious. Not defensive, not stand-offish. Just intrigued. No one else seemed to make that assumption, and the prawn didn't care enough to correct them. She just found it curious (absolutely f**king weird) that some other visible mutant might use this insight as a bonding experience.

Regardless of his response, Jack would gesture for him to sit, waving her hand in a "come on over" way, before using her two fingers and thumb to indicate he chair opposite of her. She wasn't much of a "bonding over mutual freak-ish-ness" type, but at least the two of them could suffer through the crowded cafe together. She flipped her phone back onto its face. She kept people at a distance with the text-to-speech app. By sitting at her table, the piscine man was stepping into a slightly-more-personable space.

"I'n Jacquelyn," the prawn yielded, keeping both of her elbows on the table. Her forearms were crossed so that her hands hung off of the edge. There was still ample space for the fish-faced fellow, though, "I go 'y Jack, doh. Who are you?"

Her body language, much like her stare, was unflinching. She was curious about the guy, to the say the least. Like about why he saw fit to accompany her. Some people used visible mutations for bonding opportunities, but Jack was mostly apathetic about it-- polite if approached, but she didn't care to initiate stuff on her own. Her eyes pinched in a smile, though. Meaning no harm, not sizing him up. Just looking at him the way that two, normal people might survey one another.

He gave a soft smile, which always looked kind of strange, given his toothy fish-face, but it was the best he could do. "Well, my senses are more fish-like than human, capable of sensing tiny sensations in the air that normal humans wouldn't pick up. Pheromones, for instance."

He sat down across from her as directed, sitting across from her. "Dr. Caleb Fishman," he replied. "Or Manfish, if you prefer." He gave a slight shrug as he sipped his coffee.

In all honesty, her mutation was not why he decided to sit with her. In his mind, the common factor was they were both in a coffee shop alone, and therefore, innocent mingling was justified. He didn't tell her this though, because that might come across as creepy. However, it was worth noting that she wasn't part of his experiment.

"Cale-uh," Jack reiterated. Even if she wanted to use a more formal "Dr. Fishman" or "Manfish", those two options were laden with syllables that would sound sloppy on her tongue. Of course, she could just call him "Doctor", but that felt... strangely sterile. Lamely, she explained, "Couldn't tackle your last nay-n e'en iss I wanted to."

There was a smile in her eyes. Even if it was reclaimed, it seemed really harsh to signify yourself with a literal description like "Manfish". It'd be like Jack calling herself "Rainbow Shrimp". Maybe Shrimpbo for sort. Eugh. The prawn hummed at Caleb's confession, deeming it worthy of belief. "Dat ex'lains it."

The chair creaked as Jack leaned back, shifting her posture into something slightly less confrontational. She wasn't much with conversation, even when she shared the possession of an X gene with the fellow at the table. A long stare was cast towards the front counter, before being dragged back towards the piscine man.

"What kinda doctor are you?" Jack inquired. There was a lot of different facets of the medical field, and also doctors that weren't really doctors. It was a fairly safe inquiry, prodding about what people did for a living.

He nodded in agreement; the giant fish-man understood Jack's predicament. Oftentimes, visible mutations such as their own had a way of impeding every day activities that others often took for granted; talking and walking, for example.

He sipped on his coffee thoughtfully. "PhD, actually," he replied politely. "Marine Biology. The title comes with the doctorate, so I figure I may as well use it. Besides, Dr. Fishman or Dr. Manfish does have so much more of a ring to it than a plain old 'Mister,' doesn't it?" he gave a light chuckle.

"The more I think about it, though, 'Dr. Manfish' has sort of a villainous air to it, doesn't it?" He gave a light shrug. He was by no means villainous, but the name did carry somewhat of an intimidation factor to it.

"So, what do you do? If you don't mind me asking."

Accumulated tension in Jacks' shoulders released when the fellow mutant admitted to being a marine biologist. Sure, Caleb was also a mutant, but there was a certain level of discomfort when it came to dealin with medical doctors, for Jack. Scholarly intrigue grew tiresome after a while.

"Doctor does has sun 'restige," Jack agreed.

>> "The more I think about it, though, 'Dr. Manfish' has sort of a villainous air to it, doesn't it?"

Jack exhaled sharply, a humored "psssshhh" escaping her. She hurriedly shook her head. How someone could construe a little piscine fellow as a villain was beyond Jack. He seemed like a colossal nerd. A nice guy. Not a cloak-swooshing "mwu-ha-ha" villain. The kind of guy who'd sit down with a random woman at a coffee shop for some good company.

>> "So, what do you do? If you don't mind me asking."

"Security," Jack answered, taking a sip of tea, "At Xa'iers. Also a, uh-" Jack unlocked her phone, and quickly typed the word "bouncer", flashing it to Caleb, "-at a nightclu'."

Jack typed another message, without pressing the button for audio. The din of the coffeeshop would've made it hard to hear, <<I've been thinking about leaving the bouncer position if Xavier's hires me on permanently.>>

Once Jack had typed the first message, and allowed Caleb to finish reading, she typed another, << I didn't think I'd like working with kids as much as I have. They're funny little people.>>

Then again, everyone was little, compared to Jack. Except Victor. He was not the least bit little.

He listened, and read appropriately. Manfish had started to recover from being stood up, and was now just enjoying Jack's company. It was nice to take a break from the stress of dating, anyway.

"Xavier's? Small world. I've actually got an interview there in a couple of days for a teaching position. In the meantime, I volunteer at aquariums and occasionally give speeches. I'm sort of an equality advocate for visible mutants in my spare time."

He chuckled lightly. "Yes, children can be quite...amusing at times. Some can be a handful, but all they need is a little guidance in the right direction," he answered thoughtfully.

"So yes, if all goes well, maybe we'll see each other at the Mansion."