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Post by Eve Vardell on Jun 27, 2008 12:20:07 GMT -5
Continued from: Wheton's ShieldThe blackboard set up just inside the cafe's cheery, bay window boasted in bright yellow chalk (and adorned by pale blue snowflakes) the "best coffee-drinking experience in Riversfield." Eve had never much thought of drinking caffeine as an "experience" - more as a simple necessity for survival. Still, in a town this small, if anything was going to win that sort of award it would probably have to be this place. She doubted that there were many other options around. Eve pushed open the doors to a cheery jingling of bells. She met the bright gazes of the early morning breakfasters with a quick, nervous smile and made her way to the bathroom at the back before they could see how mussed and dirt-covered she was from her fight in the graveyard the night before. In the bathroom she scrubbed at her face quickly under running water, picked an errant twig out of her hair, and pulled off her pale blue hoodie so that she was left wearing only a white tank-top. It was a little chilly for the outfit, and it left the old symbol tattooed on her wrist exposed, but she would rather be a bit cold than draw unnecessary attention, and who in this town was likely to notice the outdated sign as a failed anti-werewolf mark, anyway? More than likely they'd think it was some punk-rock band's logo, or something of the sort. With that self-assuring thought and a final once-over in the dimly-lit room's mirror, she tucked the sweater under her arm and headed out to find herself a table and experience some of the town's best coffee.
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Post by Kasen Rowe on Jun 27, 2008 12:25:54 GMT -5
To say that it had been a long night was an understatement. After the scuffle with the girl, he’d gotten back to his motel room and sat down at the desk for the next two hours going through notes he’d taken concerning Wheton’s Shield just to make sure what he held was the real deal and that, after everything, he hadn’t misinterpreted its effects. Of course, the latter was much harder to determine as most of what he knew of the amulet’s powers had been written second hand by peers or things he’d learned by word of mouth. If Daniel Wheton had kept a log or ‘how to’ book on the creation or exact purpose of the Shield, Kasen hadn’t been fortunate enough to come across it. But what he had wasn’t half bad. When he’d finally convinced his skeptical side, he’d allowed himself a good few hours of sleep.
Now, still early in the morning, Kasen strode down the small town’s streets to the only breakfast place he knew would be open this early. Around his neck hung Wheton’s Shield, hidden beneath his black t-shirt shirt to hide from curious eyes. Besides the fact that it wasn’t exactly his normal style (he was more a silver than gold fan), he didn’t want petty thieves or item collectors taking an interest in him.
The bells that sounded as he entered the “Small Town Trap” breakfast cafe sounded too high pitched to him and he wished he’d gotten more sleep. Coffee. That would cure him.
Suppressing a yawn and taking only a quick scan of the patrons, Kasen headed to the counter, eyes fixed on the menu on the wall. The big decision wasn’t which coffee, but what to have with the coffee. There was a bus out of this place coming in a couple hours and he still had to figure out which nameless corner was the bus stop.
Something quick then.
“What can I getcha?” asked the woman at the register.
He gave her a polite smile and took one more moment before ordering a large regular coffee and an apple cinnamon muffin.
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Post by Eve Vardell on Jun 27, 2008 12:34:12 GMT -5
Well, the coffee here certainly was an "experience," all right...
Eve took her first sip, but not two drops had managed to touch her tongue before she recoiled, choking back on her gag reflex.
"Nutmeg," she asked the young waitress who had delivered her food, noticing only belatedly that she was hiding laughter behind her hand. "Why is there nutmeg in my coffee?"
"I thought you were new in town," the girl said, flipping her short brown hair over her shoulder and grinning with a brightness that seemed unnatural for this time of day. "The boss always adds nutmeg to her teas and coffees this time of year, unless you ask her not to. She thinks that it adds 'Christmas cheer.'"
"Could have warned me," Eve muttered, stuffing a forkful of syrupy pancake into her mouth to drown out the bitter aftertaste. The girl smiled as the door bells jingled once more, signaling the arrival of yet another of the town's many early birds. Eve swallowed her first bite and took a second - the pancakes, at least, appeared untampered with - as the waitress glanced over her shoulder to glance at the new customer.
"Well, that's no fun," she replied brightly as she did. "Everyone in town's wary of it now, so it's really rare that I get to see someone caught off guard by it anymore."
"Don't expect a big tip," Eve replied, more grouchily than she normally might've, absently following the girl's gaze.
"It's factored into the bill." But Eve barely registered the Small Town Trap's newest atrocity, for the newcomer had finally moved into her line of vision, at the counter.
It was him.
The thief from the graveyard hadn't noticed her yet, peering intently at the menu above the counter, and Eve didn't intend for him to. But ducking into the bathroom would bring her dangerously close to his line of vision, and going for the door would cause her to walk less than four feet behind him. So she did the only thing she could: grabbed her plate of pancakes and fork, and ducked under her booth's table.
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Post by Kasen Rowe on Jun 27, 2008 12:37:38 GMT -5
Kasen leaned on the counter as he waited for his order and tried unsuccessfully to suppress another yawn.
“Tired, hon?”
Kasen turned to see a waitress step back behind the counter, headed towards the kitchen in the back with a tray of empty and half finished cups balanced precariously on one hand. He watched the tray swerve this way and that through the air.
“Yeah,” was his simple reply.
“Well our coffee will perk you right up,” she said with the slightest hint of a sinister undertone.
Kasen quirked an eyebrow before remembering his last ‘experience’ with their ‘special’ coffee.
“I asked them to hold that spice this time.”
The waitress looked slightly taken aback, her tray teetering a moment before recognition crossed her face.
“Oh yeah, I remember you. You’re that guy that threw the fit yesterday.”
Kasen straightened, looking somewhat offended. “I didn’t throw a fit.”
“Did too, hon,” she said through a good humored laugh.
“I choked and asked what was wrong with my drink. There’s a difference,” he replied.
The waitress smiled and shrugged, her tower of dirty mugs and cups nearly going over once again as she returned to her duties, yet she seemed to hardly notice. She was probably in complete control and just trying to mess with him. Kasen shook his head in something between amusement and exasperation then glanced over at the clock on the wall. Where was his order?
A tall cardboard cup and a small paper bag suddenly appeared on the counter before him, the woman who’d taken his order somewhat grouchy ever since he’d made that last minute request to hold the nutmeg. He paid the cashier, took a tentative sip of his coffee just to check, then thanked her and headed for the door. The woman hardly responded and Kasen wondered if he’d somehow offended her.
Let that be a lesson, he thought to himself. Never get between a small town coffee house and its nutmeg. With a smirk, he pushed his way through the door and back out into the chilly December air, humming a nameless tune as he went.
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Post by Eve Vardell on Jun 27, 2008 12:41:39 GMT -5
The bells jingled again and Eve (mouth full of yet another sticky bite) carefully poked her head out around the booth's seat to watch the man exit the diner as quickly as he'd come. Thank gods he hadn't come looking for a table... From behind the counter, the young waitress caught her eye and smirked. "Boy trouble?" "You could say that." Eve pulled herself out from under the table and glanced out the window to make sure he wasn't lingering nearby, before adding, "Thanks for not giving me away." "Oh, no problem. I've had to hide from an ex-boyfriend a time or two, myself." Eve wrinkled her nose at the allegation. Besides having knocked her out and being her rival for the amulet, this man appeared to be nearly a decade older than her. Even if she'd been in a point in her life to consider dating... eww. "He's not... he's my uncle," Eve responded quickly, before she could rationalize that it wold be better to just let this inconsequential stranger believe what she wanted. After she'd started fabricating her story, however, she felt that she physically couldn't stop the flow of reflexive lies. It had always been a problem of hers - lying, that is - and whenever she tried she either ended up stammering incoherently, or spilling out so much detailed information that she couldn't remember a word of it an hour later. "My mom's younger brother. His name's... Max. Got serious gambling problems - keeps coming to us asking for money. Thought it'd be better to just avoid him for the time being. Let Mom deal with him, you know? But..." Another glance out the window revealed the man turning left around the nearest corner. "Now that I think about it, he's family, right? I should probably just help him out." She placed the half-finished plate of pancakes back on the table, and dug a wrinkled twenty out of her pocket. "Great pancakes, interesting coffee. Keep the change." And then, flashing a quick, parting smile at the middle-aged diners who had been observing the whole interaction with looks of complete incredulity, Eve followed the stranger, and her amulet, out the door. Continued in: All Your Reasons
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