While the woman might have stood out on a normal occasion, that may not be the case in this moment. The particular individual who ordered coffee via couplets was like a peacock standing amidst chickens, their deep blue and green hair not even being the thing that stood out the most about them. Their visible skin was covered in vividly colorful tattoos, and their attire spoke of a blend between the eastern continent, the free territories, and Pont-Ciel itself, all to the point that pinning down the person's origin felt impossible.

As the worker went off to prepare the drink, DJMAXX would leave a coin that covered the cost and then a little bit extra atop the counter and slide it over. They'd then turn around, noticing -- like usual -- they were the center of attention. This was not a thing that bothered them, in particular, but they noticed a set of eyes among the bunch was... different.

The other woman who stood out would find herself approached by the peacock, as they pulled out a chair and sat across from her. She wasn't suspicious, by any means, and to be clear, her intentions eluded the individual. But, she was captivating, and for that reason alone was she approached.

"Hello," they said simply, smiling as they put their elbow on the table and rested their chin upon their palm.

"My, you have quite a memorable face,
One I'd not think I'd see in such a place."

Yes, that was still a couplet, it counts.

Forsythia

Of all the...

While Emil frequented taverns and the like in The Bleeding Heart, they occasionally went anywhere else when all they wanted was peace. This coffee shop was one such place where they could just relax away from all of the drunkards, the people trying to stab them over information that didn't satisfy them (or having to pay for it), or just avoiding the strange characters of the undercity in general.

So when a strange character enters the most peaceful coffee shop they know, speaking in song, Emil can't help but be curious, but also a little annoyed. They did their best to not look in the man's direction, and instead would focus on their coffee, their rifle tucked away in a bag nearby out of sight.

They hoped it was nothing of consequence to have a character like this around. After all, Pont-Ciel was a rather popular city with tourists. But it paid to get information that could prove to be useful down the line, in case such a character made a name for themself.

Anora's apartment sat just down the block, so she sometimes stopped by the nearby cafes for a quick pick-me-up on the days she was pulling an all-dayer. This was one such day.

She noticed the cafe was a bit more populated than usual, and her inner social butterfly took hold of her. As she held a cup of incredibly frothy, sugary, creamer-y, syrupy espresso (that was more additive than coffee at this point, to be frank), she decided it was her solemn duty to pester someone new today. She gravitated towards a shock of lavender hair, which happened to be the exact same shade of bellflower-blurple that she had seen growing in the flower shop beneath her apartment. In fact, she had picked up a packet of seeds on her way out this morning, and an idea sprung to her mind.

"Hello!" she approached Emil Calder politely, summer-sun smile on her face. "Is this seat taken?" She gestured to the seat across from them.

Anora seemed to have noticed purple hair, but seemed to be so tunnel-visioned that she didn't even see the poet's flurry of green and blue, nor the other woman's warm ginger, despite the former's loud appearance and presence.

Emil was taken aback when someone spoke to them, and they almost hadn't noticed the woman who had approached. She asked if the seat was taken, and Emil's eyes took a quick shift to glance around the coffee shop, spotting several vacant tables nearly instantly. She had decided to approach this one anyway. It was unbelievable, to say the least.

"...No." They'd reply, taking a sip of their coffee. They hadn't seen her around before, and it paid to be in the know. Maybe it wouldn't be a waste of time to indulge her. She looked young, possibly a student in the Conservatory if they had to guess. Maybe the daughter of some small businessman, judging from how polite she was.

Out of the corner of their eye, they'd keep an eye on the other individuals, wondering if anything of merit could be heard. They did see a tired looking woman (Eslia) walk in, looking like she was walking through hell itself. Possibly another student, or an overworked young woman. Either way, she didn't look like she was much of a day person at first glance.