<div style="background-color:Steelblue; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><div style="background-color:Lightsteelblue; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><span style="color: #191970"><img alt="" src="http://i.imgur.com/yR965zd.jpg" style="float:left; padding:6px;"/><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">M</span>aia MacAleese had her nose buried in a pile of papers like she usually did. There had been a break in between classes and where most people affiliated with the local university took the opportunity to drink and get rowdy or relax in front of the television playing their video games or watching their favorite shows and movies, Maia was busy getting things ready for her next course. On campus she was the youngest professor there, just having had her 25th birthday recently in the month of October. And while sometimes it was mentioned to her by her students, for the most part she didn’t bother entertaining the interest, her having been used to mentoring and teaching peers close to her age and working with her elders as if they were colleagues since she was around five years old. Having a Mensa IQ of 162 had made sure of that fact. <br/><br/>A soft mreow came from under her desk and one of her furbabies ruffled his long fluff against her bare leg. Maia reached down absently to stroke him until eventually his insistent meowing tore her away from her menial task of sorting and preparing her Theology lessons and she looked to find not just Dante, but Agatha, and Shakespeare all staring up at her. <br/>“What?” she asked them pointedly, throwing her hands up in a shrugging gesture. Dante pranced around her leg a bit then scurried over toward the kitchen, mewling all the while, heading straight past the bar divider toward where their food dishes were. “Oh, so that’s it,” she scoffed playfully, uncrossing her leg that was held at the ankle to her other knee before sliding from her desk chair to head into the kitchen. Poe and Woolf were already there waiting to be fed as well. <br/><br/>Glancing at the clock the digital clock on her stove she realized why they were all mad at her. She had lost track of time and had skipped lunch, hers and theirs. Signing she picked up all the small dishes and set them in a line down her countertop after cleaning them each carefully with very hot water. When she reached into their cabinet they all came running, circling around her feet and meowing relentlessly, eager for their treat. <br/><br/>“Alright, alright,” she greeted them, spooning out Fancy Feast into each of their respective bowls, though when it truly came down to feeding time they didn’t bother to use the correct one, even if she did have them color coded. For all intents and purposes, Maia was, the crazy cat lady. She lived alone in a small house just off campus at Buckinghamshire New University, aside from the seven felines that kept her company. <br/><br/>Three females and four males graced her presence on a daily basis, keeping her warm on cold nights, enjoying their solitude from the outside world. One would think that teaching a classroom full of students would make any person quite the outgoing sort, but Maia was quite the opposite, coming come after a long day of being surrounded by society, completely exhausted and ready for the calm, still, quite that her otherwise eccentric hermit lifestyle allotted her. <br/><br/>Dante was her youngest, the boy still a kitten for the most part, barely reaching six months old at the moment, and as a result he was her most whiney and playful of the seven she had. He was also the largest believe it or not, the fluffy Maine Coon weighing in at a whopping 18 lbs already. After setting down the bowls she peered around her kitchen for something to eat. But in truth, she wasn’t really hungry. <br/><br/>On the counter was her mail, and on top of that was a flyer that had been taped to her door, a little printed advert that looked like it had been photocopied at Print Republic by the hundreds and haphazardly taped down the street and placed in car windshields. Lifting it up the tape stuck a little to one of her telegrams before it pulled free and she held it in the light to read it.</span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #191970"><span style="font-size: 200%; line-height: 116%;">Mystic Moon Café<br/></span>Just inside Amersham Station<br/>Open Monday – Sunday<br/>6am to 10pm<br/><span style="font-size: 85%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="font-style: italic">Bring this ticket and receive a free cup on the house! </span></span><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://cdn2.iconfinder.com/data/icons/barcode-1/154/long-barcode-128.png">[ img ]</a></span></div><br/><div style="background-color:Lightsteelblue; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><span style="color: #191970"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">G</span>reen eyes stared at the flyer and Maia thought about it for a moment or two, then shrugged and made herself ready, bundling in layers of clothing, leggings with knee high leg wool leg warmers,  a mid-calf length skirt with her thermal shirt, sweater, and fluffy coat and scarf bundling her up to go out into the cold. She stepped into her weathered brown leather boots and tied them off effortlessly before carefully opening her door so none would venture outside other than herself, and she unchained her very girly bicycle with the metal cage basket that hung off the back and rode her way down the drizzled streets towards Amersham station.<br/><br/>Once there she locked her bike where a few others were chained to bike racks along the side of the building that led to the train. She nearly missed the small cafe as she went inside, walking past it twice before settling her gaze on it and heading inside. Maia ordered a Pumpkin Spice Mocha, that to her delight, was on the menu still, and handed the woman the flyer. "Wow, that's twice today. I didn't know we were doing these too!" the young woman said, scanning the barcode and the bottom, and sure enough her register beeped and opened and the charge was dropped to zero. Taking her coffee she sat on a nearby plush chair, still bundled up to the neck to combat the chill that followed even inside the station. </span></div><br/><div style="background-color:Lightsteelblue; border:1px solid black; margin:10px 10px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;"><span style="color: #191970"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">N</span>ote: Just for the sake of curiosity, the seven cat's are all named for Authors: Dante, Agatha, Shakespeare, Poe, Woolf, (and the two not mentioned by name) Anaïs, and Oscar.</span></div></div>