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Vienna is a beautiful city with no shortage of sights to see, and Johnny Storm was not about to miss out on the opportunity to put a few miles between himself and the Latverian delegation when it arose. There were positively hours to kill before he needed to worry about being on a stage making his pitch and so he'd thrown on some less conspicuous attire — jeans, a t-shirt, light jacket and a baseball cap — and slipped out.
The Stadtpark is probably the last place anyone would think to look for him, but Johnny's actually quite enjoying the chance at some peace and quiet. He's hitched up on a bench with his legs stretched out in front of himself, hands folded over his belly while he just soaks up the park's atmosphere. See, this — this is nice.
*
Mree can still hardly believe he's here. But he's not going to worry about it; he stayed up late tidying up the hotel rooms and organizing all the materials they'd accumulated over the course of yesterday's presentations, and now he's out in the world, tie-free and with his loose white blouse billowing in the breeze, setting off his pale green skin and making him look even more green than he really is. He's unbound his long blonde hair and is letting the air do what it wants with it, lending the androgyne mutant a somewhat feral aspect even in his very respectable button-down shirt and pinstriped slacks. Mree gravitates toward the green spaces, and the Statdpark is definitely one of those, dotted even as it is with statuarty and architectural features. The lithe tendrils which drape from his jawline and the tip of his spaded tail are darkening green in the sunlight below a light down of white-blooming fluff, and he's got a blissed-out look in his eye as he strolls, great tail swaying behind him like some great contented serpent. His easy smile broadens into a brilliant grin to spot Johnny sitting out. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" he asks, voice delicate, sweet and crisp with a British accent. "I never really thought I'd be back overseas. But here I am in Europe proper and all. Feeling swanky," he laughs. Sure, everyone else at the conference is a billionaire or something. He makes 2.50$ an hour. This is insane.
*
Johnny can't keep the surprise off of his face when he looks up to find a very familiar green face there, but it's a pleasant sort of surprise. "What are — I had no idea you were here, Mree," he admits with a laugh, immediately sitting up a bit straighter on his chosen bench. "I don't know how I missed you. Um. No offense," he hurriedly adds, holding up both hands.
*
Mree surprised Mr. Storm. That just tickles him pink, so to speak, and his eyes sparkle with a moment of sheer delight, basking in the moment while he slouches down onto the bench next to him. Not directly next to, but with a socially acceptable bit of distance between. The bench is warm, and his tail begins to instinctively wind about the back of it, moving slowly, like a time-lapsed video of a vine coiling around a tree, while Mree perches half-sideways on a hip. He's had since puberty to figure out how to sit down on most things with a tail. He crosses his long legs, lets one sandal dangle from one set of greenish white toes. "It's OK, I stand out. But people were all really nice to me yesterday. I'm glad Ms. Walters invited me to come. I feel like a movie star with all these people around giving me champagne and all. Don't know I won't be spoiled by the time we all go home." He speaks slowly, without any sense of urgency, a genial wholeheartedness to his words, as if he'd never heard of deception. Or self-editing.
*
"Jen's — I mean, Ms. Walters is here, too?" That's twice Johnny's been surprised, now. He can't help but laugh, shifting to sit with one arm comfortably draped over the back of the bench. "I hope the firm didn't send you guys to babysit us. Though, I guess there are worse places to be stuck doing that," he allows, casting a look around the park with a lopsided smile. "I'm glad people are treating you right. That's how it's supposed to work."
*
"I could think of a few," Mree's eyes squint into merry little crescent-moons, joking easily with Johnny and resting an elbow on the back of the bench, half-mirroring his body language and using his hand to rest the side of his head upon. "But, no. We're here to, um. Heh. Ms. Walters is here to talk about international copyright procedures and restrictions. I'm here to help. Like I do," he almost winks. At the expression of solidarity, he draws his lips into a thinner smile, looking touched. "Aww. That's really sweet, Mr. Storm. Thank you. I'll remember this trip for a long time, that's for sure." A moderate lull in speaking, and then he lifts his chin, "So you're presenting today, right? Are you nervous?" he wonders.
*
"Insanely nervous," Johnny admits, laughing and momentarily lolling his head back to look up at the sky. But he brings his attention back to Mree soon enough, still smiling. "I mean, I'm not presenting anything as impressive as Reed is — or even Victor," he says with a somewhat grudging tone to his voice, lips twisting to one side. "It's not an invention or anything, just. The Future Foundation is important. This is the right place to launch it." And he will keep repeating that until the nerves go away.
*
Mree finds Johhny's laugh infectious; he catches it, and it bubbles up from within him in a sweet, feminine noise, subdued but present in the moment. The genderblending is strong with this one. "I'd probably be nervous, too. I don't have to come up with important ideas. I just have to make sure the coffee's fresh and the files are at hand when we need them. And I can do that. And be impressed by the people who make important things happen in the world," he murmurs, looking into Johnny's eyes with a look of real admiration. "You're going to do great, Mr. Storm. I believe in you."
*
Something about the sincerity actually gives Johnny visible pause, blinking owlishly at Mree. People tend to believe in Reed and in Sue, not him. His smile softens into something more genuine and he reaches over to give him a very light, friendly thump on the shoulder with the back of a hand. "Thank you, Mree. I'll try not to disappoint you. But don't go thinking that just because your job doesn't require important ideas, it means you can't have any. Everybody can have 'em."
*
"If I have any? You'll be the first to know. Well, actually, probably the second, after Ms. Walters. She's my boss, after all," Mree grins an impish little grin, able to give even his blatant honesty the tonality of a mirthsome jest. "Oh!" he lifts both of his brows, as if struck by an idea, in fact, the moment he's batted in that bro-tastic fashion. "Would you care for a little something to take the edge off?" he offers, that moment of enlightenment fading back into good-natured playfulness.
*
The offer gets Johnny's eyebrows raising in curiosity. "Depends on what, I guess. I mean, it's kind of a pain to deal with, but I do my best work when I can feel the pressure," he admits, smiling wryly at him. "Keeps me honest, I guess? Focused? Something."
*
Mree lifts a thumb to his jawline, drawing it along the underside of one of his whiskers and coming away with some of that white fluffy down he's sprouting spread over the ridges of his thumbprint. "It's my Flowering," is what he's named it. He feels like he's flowering, anyhow. "Just take a sniff, it's like…" he smiles, "A deep, warm chill," he finishes with a technical oxymoron, and levels his thumb halfway between his face and Johnny's, in case he wants to try it. "My foster parents used to breathe it all the time, when I first started Flowering." A pause, a sly grin, "We all liked them better after that. They weren't so strict."
*
The fact that Johnny is intruiged — and tempted — is very clear from his expression, his brow furrowed as he peers curiously at the powder on Mree's thumb. He slowly nods his head from side to side as he considers it, his lips twisting, until he finally holds up both hands and sighs at himself. "I better not. I mean, not for this," he clarifies. "If Seo realized I wasn't as nervous as I should be, she'd get on my case. Maybe afterwards?" he asks hopefully.
*
Mree isn't one to exert pressure, or be impatient. A deep, warm chill kind of summarizies his entire demeanor. No wonder that mindset is distilled into the pollen he produces. It's there in his eyes, in the serenity of his smile, and when Johnny makes the responsible decision he just draws his hand back and rufffles his fingers through his long blonde hair, clearing them off. "I understand. You want to keep your edge, not take it off." He wrinkles up his cute little button nose in a look just so proud of his own clever wordplay. The next request has him tip his head in a moment of surprise; score one for Johnny on the suprise board. "After?" he asks, then, smile spreading, "Okay," he agrees. "I've got to work through the last presentation of the day, and… probably an hour or two afterward. But maybe we can get together for dinner or something?"
*
"As long as Victor doesn't do something really stupid, that'll probably work fine," Johnny muses, and then he's shifting back to his feet. Not so much as a batted eyelash at the invitation to dinner. It's just food, right? "Which… yeah, I hope I can go eat later. He's kind of hard to predict." He makes a bit of a face, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "…either way, we'll probably see you and Jen tonight. Just hopefully without paperwork and yelling."
*
"Or at least without yelling," Mree amends the wish. "If we run out of paperwork I'll be out of a job," he reminds Johnny with a kindly smile. "So barring anything really stupid happening, I'll see you tonight. We can go to that posh restaurant at the hotel. I can charge it to my room, and then the firm will pay for it. And they can write it off for taxes. Everyone wins," he beams brilliantly. "Now isn't that an important idea?"