Meulin Leijon

There was no one worse then Mituna at sewing. Perhaps that was a gross overstatement, but to Mituna it didn’t matter. In his mind he was the worse at sewing and it frustrated him. It never worked, no matter how hard he tried. Hand sewing proved entirely useless to him. He was far better at it then machine sewing, but it always ended with the stitches looking wrong and breaking so easily no one could possibly wear it.  So then he tried to machine sew. He had borrowed a friends machine, threaded it, with a bit of frustrations at the vague instructions on how too, and finally started sewing. That was until he realized the foot pedal was extremely touchy and the string kept bunching and breaking no matter how hard he tried. It ended with him almost sewing his shirt to the cloth and ending up having to stop or risk causing a migraine.  His frustration with the art of sewing only got worse when he joined the cosplay club. Why did he join a club about playing as a character, in costume, if he couldn’t make a costume? He had to learn how to do something, mostly because he felt stupid that he couldn’t, he was sure others at least had a more basic understanding then him. The only really safe bet he had was asking someone who knew better then him. So he arranged a meeting with someone he knew, someone he could at least trust not to be to frustrated with him. Most people tended to be.  So there he was, in his dorm with his fingers going a mile a minute on his keyboard as he waited. Running to his computer was always his first choice when his nerves were getting to him. It was either his laptop or some other probably far more destructive habit. He wanted to make a good first impression. It had been so extremely long since he talked to her that, well he practically was sure she had nearly forgotten him. If anyone could help him, she could.

One person she met online was Mituna Captor, the two had talked quite often, but eventually feel out of contact with one another. That was, until he had messaged her out of the blue. Turns out, he too was attending Crocker Institute and, in fact, they had both joined a few of the same clubs. Walking down the hallway with a happy bounce in her step, sewing bag slung over her shoulder, Meulin double checked that she had the dorm number correct before rapping her knuckles against the door.

The second Cronus heard about the existence of a maid cafe – a kitty-cat themed one no less – it was a no-brainer. He was going, and damnit he was going right now. He’d searched the address and realized it was within walking distance of his dorm room, so he didn’t even have to unpark his car. Truly, this was an amazing discovery, and today was shaping up to be, quite easily, the best day ever. He’d never tell anyone, but he’d seen all the anime; he knew exactly what girls at maid cafes were like. At least, how they were supposed to be. A contagious smile on his lips, he took off, grabbing his leather jacket from the chair he’d hung it over on his way out. His hair was gelled, his shirt was tucked in, and he was totally ready to adopt himself a kitten. Chuckling at his own pun, he headed down the street in the direction of the cafe, jacket slung over his shoulder. It wasn’t burning hot out, but he wasn’t quite sure it was chilly enough for his jacket. Upon arrival, he took a moment to appreciate the fact that this place even existed at all, let alone in his general vicinity. He grinned up at the sign, running a hand over his gel-slicked hair before walking inside. It was everything he’d imagined; the waitresses were dressed exactly how he’d expected them to be, and the whole place just had a certain atmosphere to it. Yep, this was going to be his new favorite place.

Smoothing down her skirt, Meulin perked up as the bell of the front door rang, signalling a customer. Everything about him screamed 50′s greaser, from the slicked back hair to the leather jacket tossed over the shoulder. Keeping the bright smile of her face, she dipped into a small curtsy. “Hello! We hope you have a purrfect dining experience with us today. Just one in your party?” She asked pleasantly, grabbing a menu and glancing over the seating chart. The cafe was structured in a manner that was closer to a restaurant then a casual coffee shop. “If you follow me, I can lead you to your table.” Meulin directed before turning around and walking towards the table, glancing over her shoulder to check that he was following.