The Black Pot

After hearing more of the virtues, and lack thereof, from the cafe's patron, Isabel's thought turned from the saintly to the Beastly. She was beginning to feel the onset of Hunger. As the others continued to discuss the sacred, she walked quietly back toward the kitchen door looking to find Mr Potter or Mr Black so that they could discuss the profane.

Her thoughts were ordered and her priorities happily in order as she waited; Vitae, the number of a reputable estate agent, and a M&S catalogue, in that order.

This time, Susan Ivanova's thankfully not sandy and rumpled, instead brushed, showered, pressed, and otherwise fit to be out in public. She can't let the prompt go without plenty of eyebrow-raising in the direction of the older James Potter. When it's her turn to address it, she starts off with, "They'd have to go totally mad, all right. I don't really know much about saints, so obviously I don't have a favorite, but I assume they don't canonize Jews. The pope is supposedly more progressive than others from the past centuries, but she's still a pope, after all. If I understand right, saints are patrons of something associated with them?"

She's been thinking this prompt over and still can't find an answer she likes, so she throws up her hands. Might as well make an effort to knock out the questions and doctor's recommendations at the same time. "Oy. Fine. How about the saint of unrequited love. You can mark it by grabbing a bottle of vodka and drinking to the memories— or to drown the memories— of your past loved ones who've died, or that you consider dead to you. If you're not old enough to drink, do it anyway. They'd be really mad to canonize someone recommending that."
( Read more: ''Fitting In'' )

It's with a cone of soft-serve and a puzzled little smile that Xellos says,

With all respect to our gentle hosts--well, I say gentle, but I've heard about what happens to perfectly innocent hot water around here and if I've heard right the word may be, anou... Anyway, I don't understand why everyone's talking about fitting in. If you take pieces from different puzzles and try to jam them into alignment, it won't be any good for the pieces, and the picture will be all confused.

There's an old lady who comes down to the beach to feed the seagulls with crusts and stale bread. She said she was having a problem with... mou, I forget the word, but I guess it meant she couldn't get her teeth fixed, and that was why she couldn't handle the crusts. I was fortunate enough to be able to fix them for her while her back was turned. She was as confused as anyone could want, and then she started coming every day instead of every week, with fresh bread. She said she was thanking the gulls for her miracle. Maybe some of my new friends will be ashamed for me for it, but she made me cry. It's been too long since I've been Her conduit that way--I'll never give it up again for anything.

Anou... what else has happened... let's see, my host is going to teach me to read this language you're hearing me speak, and I feel a little guilty because I'm not sure he's realized that teaching me the written form means I'm going to have to recognize the sounds of the words, as well... I don't have the resources yet to start the business I want to -- as one of the wiser (and scarier!) girls I've known used to say, religion warms the soul but it doesn't fill the pockets -- so I'm thinking of dusting off some other skills to build them up.

Anyone have any furniture you'd like made, as you get settled, or anything like that? Stones or clay shaped? Objects enchanted? Combination? I know some of you are also magic-users, but even these very versatile wand-bearers don't seem to make magic that works for the unmagical. I both can, and, at the moment, have the time. I can't make promises yet, but I'm optimistic about being able to make brooms for those who might want to play Potter-san's game, once somebody tells me what they're supposed to do. Although, really, I still think you'd be better off with carpets.

I'm worried about people at home, but since She brought me here, She must want me here. So I'll be here, and without wishing to upset those concerned with decorum or having trouble accepting certain things, the person who's here will be me.

Fred notices that it's now his turn and puts down his coffee before standing, giving Katie a smile before he starts speaking.

Well, I'm still settling in, really. Katie and I found a place right on the beach, I still can't get over the view. We're thinking about having a bash sometime, should be wicked.

She and I are working on opening a shop with Gideon, and it's working out great so far.

Other than a few small things here and there, I'm still trying to get to know everyone. So far, this place is brilliant.

Smiling brightly at everyone, he pauses for a moment before sitting back down and having another sip of his drink.

Amazingly enough, establishing himself was easier in an assortment of misplaced creatures than with his own kind in his own dimension.  He stands in the center with his same ease, the sort of pride he used to carry himself in his castle with and begins...

Rincewind had been sitting in a dark corner, nursing a pint for an extraordinaryly long time. He began to mutter to himself, drawing little circles in the condensation on the table.

( Large images behind the cut. Apologies to dial-up users )

Minerva sets down her coffee, rises from her chair, smoothes down her tartan skirt like a woman brushing off road dust, and begins briskly.

"I've only just arrived in Margate and I am still settling. I'm retiring here." Strange to say it. "I haven't unpacked my things, but there are not many of them, as I've lived most of my adult life in teacher's quarters. Furnishing my flat will give me occupation for a short time, but then I will need to find something to do.

"I have not decided whether or not to continue my research in my former subject, but I am not surprised to find myself unsuited to retirement." She frowns slightly for just a moment, then puts on her disaffected-lecturer face again. "Nonetheless, I left the school that had been my life to come here. Hogwarts was modernizing, and I am, as you see, hardly modern."

She looks around at the other people in the cafe -- some have been her students (in an imprecise way), but others are entirely unfamiliar. She is accustomed to speaking to groups of teenagers, dressed in variations on the same theme -- but this is not her classroom, and these people are like no people she has known. The clothing alone shows the most outlandish variety. For the first time since her twenties, Minerva feels a touch of nervousness before an audience.

"I look forward to getting to know you all," she says to them, as she would say to a little herd of Gryffindor first years, with fresh faces and neat uniforms and nervous expressions. She is sure that they are even less convinced.

She compresses her lips slightly, remembers strict poise, and concludes, to tell herself as much as for an excuse to sit down and wish for her desk, "I am sure I will find some useful occupation in Margate soon."

Goku sits in the pub listening to the others stand and talk about fitting in. Tonight he doesn't feel like socializing, but topic has him mulling over what it means exactly to 'fit in.'

It's something that he's only felt when he was traveling with the ikkou, and then only because they had a mission, a purpose. Hell, there wasn't much time to think about differences, only in the context of each of their particular skills -- Sanzo, Hakkai, Gojyo and his -- complemented each other and ensured their survival and their victory.

Goku thinks back to both times he resided at Chang'an. First when Sanzo brought him down from his mountaintop prison. There was no sense in trying to fit in with the monks of the monastery. He was a heathen, a demon, a creature to be reviled, to be destroyed. When he returned after the final showdown, he'd become a hero, but he'd felt more like a curiosity. Again, there had been no real sense of friendship. There was wariness and guarded respect, but no one treated him as an equal.

Margate, though, is different. It seems effortless to Goku to 'fit in.' The others that he's met have been tolerant of his outward differences and accepting of his implausible past. Perhaps it is because everyone here that he's met has come to escape something, has arrived here with little or nothing, a blank slate and a new chance to forge a life worth living.

Goku smiles and drains his pint. That, he thinks, is the essence of fitting in.

Sometimes, sitting on the sand and watching the sun set after one of his jogging sessions, Dee wonders about fitting in. What does that really mean? Does it mean feeling comfortable in Margate? If that's what it means, then yes: he's feeling much more comfortable now than he did, but that should be expected. He's made friends, got a pretty decent place to live and is enjoying his afternoons at the beach.

But does fitting in also mean that he's getting so used to this new place that he's forgetting his roots? His crazy and lovely New York City, the only place he'd lived in until he arrived in Margate. The place he knows like the palms of his hands. Where people talk like him and understand his brash ways.

The place where Ryo is.

Dee is not so sure he wants to fit in, but he feels that it's something he can't avoid. It's inexorable. So he stands up and asks the room at large, "Darts, anyone?"

Dahlia stands once Lucius has snuck off somewhere. To Rabastan actually, she notes with surprise, and it’s about time. She’s much more relaxed than the previous time she talked to the crowd and she fidgets with her hands constantly while she speaks instead of keeping them folded in front of her.

“It’s interesting. In my old world names had magic to them, gave you some idea what the future held in store for you, so with one like mine I had to learn to settle quickly wherever I landed because I never knew how long I’d be able to stay there. It seems to be no different here.”

She looks around the room, lingering over the people she knows and counting the ones she doesn’t. There’s fewer of those than last time.

“My business is thriving, so much so that I’ve had to look into hiring new staff in order to expand. Hopefully one or both of them will be starting soon and I can get on with arranging deliveries to people.” She smiles thinly, pleased that she’d apparently picked up something from her brother while he was running the family business for all those years. “My thanks to Mr Krycek and Marluxia for their applications.” Actually, she really will have to learn their full names before they start working for her, if only as a matter of courtesy.

“As you’ve probably heard, I currently have a houseguest but I am hoping that situation will resolve itself soon for all of our sakes. It’s rather astonishing how different things can be when one doesn’t have one’s housemates to hand to dilute an experience.” Lucius had been right when he’d said it wouldn’t be like school. She was coping though and it really was only little things – she was simply too used to living on her own.

“Otherwise,” And here she has to smile, thinking about all that’s happened, “things are going quite well. I do believe I could stand to stay here for as long as I’m allowed.” And perhaps, because this is no longer her world, she’ll actually be able to stay this time.

Balthier stands and clears his throat softly. He looks over the room, smiling upon the faces of the people he's come to know in Margate. When his eyes pass over certain individuals, they seem to light up even more -- the people for whom Balthier feels he could live here for. He closes his eyes and then draws a deep breath.

"Fitting in, as the subject states, is really a matter of mind, rather than actually finding a place to stay, a regular pattern in one's life or any of those sorts of things. I suppose that in meeting the other -- escapees, I could call you -- that I've found a bit of common ground, and in that, I've found some solace." He begins, taking the time to look about the room as a proper orator would. He licks his lips, feeling a bit more nervous than he feels he should. He was all about grandiose entrances and the like, but when it came to public talking, he was loathe to find himself tongue-tied. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued.

"As far as the literal sense, I'm in the process of perhaps moving in with someone I've grown extremely fond of," Balthier says, glancing towards Demyx with a fond smile. "But at the moment, I've been living in an inn not far from here, indulging in what remains of my funds, though I suppose, at some point, I'd best take a job," he says, now feeling as if he was thinking aloud. He chuckles, "I must say though, despite some things I miss from my own world, some of the other things I've found in this one grow on me, allowing to feel as if I may be able to make this my home, should returning prove impossible." Balthier glances about the room once more before giving a brief but elegant bow and returns to his seat, feeling relieved to be out of the proverbial spotlight for once.

He's made the same effort to fit in here as he always has. As he always does, regardless of where he is: none, whatsoever.

Sirius strongly suspects that if he actually says that, Regulus will explode. And while that ordinarily wouldn't bother him, he's not very comfortable casually irritating this not-quite-brother.

Besides, even if he wanted to fit in, he wouldn't know where to start.

The pictures don't move. The post doesn't talk. He hasn't been able to get his hands on a proper radio, and even if he did, he's fairly certain it wouldn't pick up WWN. And he has an entire study full of empty shelves because there's nowhere that sells proper books (Although he's yet to follow up on the banana-smeared leaflet that appeared in his letterbox offering interdimensional book retrieval. For a fee. Payable in bananas).

That, and he can't think of anything he's done - to fit in or otherwise - that's been particularly interesting. Bewitching the Shadow to fly and to stay disillusioned, checking up on the garden to make sure that the aconite is still alive for this month's Wolfsbane, and trying to find a shop that sells normal things instead of... whatever is in those catalogues that seem to fill his letterbox on an almost hourly basis, trying to convince him to buy things he's never heard of and doesn't want.

He's not about to say any of this, but at the same time, he doesn't really want to say 'pass' when it comes to his turn.

Only one thing for it.

Sirius stands up quietly while everybody else is distracted by the Lucius and Rabastan Reunion, and wanders over to the kitchen to see what James is up to.

Lucius was not feeling himself. He hadn't been feeling like himself for days. He was miserable, lonely, listless and he felt he was getting under Dahlia's feet. He hadn't wanted to come to the meeting, but she'd dragged him away from Television and Jeremy and all the way here and now he was here the coffee was luke-warm, the food was unspeakable, and if he looked up from the tabletop his eyes would find Rabastan in the crowded room and he couldn't deal with that, not in front of all these people and not without at least one bottle of Le Tour in front of him.

He's nudged, apparently it's his turn, and he has to force himself to look up.

"Things... aren't going so well at the moment. As most of you know, the dealership hasn't been open for the past few days, and... and I'm sorry for the inconvenience caused. Rabastan and I... are taking a break, to clear the air after some misunderstandings and readjust... to our new environment...er... so for the moment I am staying at the Herbary with Dahlia... erm..." He falters, not sure what to say next and very, very aware that these people are watching him. "And..." He stops, eyes having landed squarely on Rabastan on the other side of the room, "And I miss him."

Norrington stands up, dreading this new occasion for more public speaking.

"Right. Fitting in. Well quite frankly, I think I'm quite at home here in Margate. Everyone I've met so far range from courteous to extremely friendly, and for that I am very thankful."

He glances around the room and takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I will be getting a boat, soon- many thanks to Mr Malfoy for locating it for me- and I suppose once the necessary arrangements are made I will be able to use it. I may be giving rides on the boat and sailing lessons for a very small fee, because as you probably know, money doesn't quite grow on trees." He pauses to clear his throat. "That's about all, I suppose. Thank you."

He looks around one last time and sits down as quickly as possible.

Snape gets to his feet, tugs the ends of his sleeves to smooth the fabric, then crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at the people filling the little cafe that has become the hub of Margate.

"What am I doing to fit in?" he says with a slight sneer. "How am I making Margate my home, now that I know that I shall remain here for an undetermined amount of time? I found a place to live. I've made it comfortable for myself. I found activities with which I can entertain myself, despite being mocked for a renewed interest in one of them." He eyes Regulus and James.

"As for the fitting in part, I'm not doing anything to 'fit in'. As far as I'm concerned, I'm on holiday. And I'll do whatever I damn well please while I'm here."

*Harry stands awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets, and shakes his fringe out of his eyes. He doesn't love this public speaking thing, but it necessary – part of "fitting in," really – so he goes through with it.*

Well, I've been here a while now. I wouldn't say Margate feels like home, but it's getting there. I've made some friends, had some new experiences. *blushes, thinking of Dee* Gotten to know some of you better than I did in my old life. *blinks rapidly*

*shakes his head to clear it of errant thoughts*

What am I doing now? I thought about it for a long time, explored Margate, and finally discovered Dreamland Fun Park It's an old funpark that needs renovating, and I'm going to help out with that. I've got access to money through some Muggle bank accounts I'd set up before I came here, so I'm helping with funding the renovations.

*looks up with a mischievous expression*
I'm helping with the actual renovations in a bit more personal way, but they others don't really know about that. They're a bit mystified as to how the Dodgems suddenly started working again overnight.

Once I've got it going properly, you'll all be invited to come and see it, of course. I'll have a special night just for all of us. It should be fun. If you want to see how it's going in the meantime, just let me know.

*shifts on his feet, taking his hands out of his pockets, feeling more relaxed now*
Also, Dr... Malfoy and I -- the younger one, I mean, Draco, we were talking about setting up some Quidditch teams. I'll put a paper up on the noticeboard so anyone who's interested can sign up. *gives a particularly warm smile to James Jnr. as he says this and briefly wonders how fantastic (or awkward) it would be if Draco were out Seekered by Harry's thirteen year old sort-of-but-not-really son*

So, that's me I guess.
*scratches his head, shrugs and sits back down again*

I guess you could say I really haven't started fitting in here yet. I'm a pretty shy person really. But not for long. I just have to get to know people a little bit first.

So far I've only talked with Fred Weasley and he doesn't count because I've known him since I was 11! He and I are moving into an apartment together and after lord knows how long I finally told him that I like him as more then a friend. And he feels the same way! I never would have guessed... I figured he would want some pretty girlie girl on his arm instead of a former teammate.

I guess it's time for me to actually start trying to fit in here, I mean I'm here... and it looks like there won't be any going back home any time soon if at all.

Dr. McCoy looks over the crowd at the café and takes a small sip of his coffee before standing.

“I guess I’m fittin’ in as good as the next person. No complaints really, which is a change of pace for me.” He smiles. “My medical clinic is open for business, so that’s helped. It’s just down the street from here, so if anyone’s having medical problems, come find me, day or night.”

He shrugs, unsure of what else to say. “I’ve made a few friends. Oh, and I found a kitten. It broke into my house, and now it won’t leave. Anyone lookin’ for a pet?”

He looks hopeful because he’s not sure how much more of the kitten his sinuses can take.

Crowley buffs the fingernails of his right hand lightly on his lapel as the last person finishes up. He studies them for a moment before resting the hand in his lap, half folded around his left. It’s not all that hard. People don’t generally see anything they don’t want to anyway, so even if I were to go about in my ‘true’ form I’d hardly draw attention. But I suppose that’s going unnoticed more than it is truly ‘fitting in’. Since this has become my preferred form over the centuries all I really alter about my appearance is my wings, which I keep pulled in. Can’t let them come into contact with any old person or thing. End up all disheveled like an angel’s, and honestly, my pride just won’t allow that.

And thank the depths I’m allowed some, he mutters, remembering the shameful state of Gabriel’s wings when last he’d had the misfortune to see them.

And the glasses, of course, which I have grown fond of and feel rather out of sorts without. As for my behavior, well, there are people in this room who would put my feeble attempts to shame I’m sure. The term people is used loosely, and he gazes about him from behind his glasses he wonders how it would be possible for him to fit in amongst them at all, but maybe that was the genius of it. If everything is so wildly different then different becomes the norm, and therefore monotonous. Ineffable, he decides, and shrugs with a light roll of his shoulders.

Lyta stands, straightens her work shirt and checks the time again.

"Well, I've got a bit of time before I'm back on shift so I may as well take the chance to do the whole getting to know you thing again." She actually enjoyed the last time, so why not? "But first, a few more important things. Can I have two English breakfasts, a big cup of tea and, errrm, a coke or lemonade or something please? Also, is there a Mr Harry Potter in the room? I think I've got something of yours."

She goes to sit back down before realising that there's something else too. "Oh yes, right, fitting in. Well, I've not been fired yet, I've met some nice people, some interesting people, some nice and interesting people and I'm starting to see why all the students sit in the shop all day as opposed to going to lectures. So yes, go me."

And then she sits down and waits to see if anything or anybody comes up.