Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Fawn pushed open the doors of the cafe with a sigh as fresh air rushed in to greet her. She kicked the doorstop into place and reluctantly went back inside to tend the oven. Her overly large specimen of a boss had asked her to open today since he would be taking his dear wife out on a date. And since none of the other staff would be in until later she was left to fend for herself. Double checking that everything had been stocked up for the day and that the coffee was brewing like it was supposed to the woman turned away to face the floor of the restaurant. Empty so far, hopefully some of the nearby hardworking Anders would drop by and visit. She made sure to inform as many as she could about when her anti-ander boss would be gone. And word spread like wildfire.
Fawn saw several people drifting by looking in and she waved at them before trying her apron on and going around the counter. On her way she pulled a blue bandana out of the apron pocket and tied it around her head like a headband. Two tendrils of her bangs hung down, and after months of trying to pin them back, she gave up. The girl began to straighten out some of the condiments on the tables.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 27, 2015 23:39:27 GMT
Walking through the open door, Edgar went straight to the counter and sat down. “A cup of coffee please. Six cream, no sugar,” he ordered. Apparently this place was run by someone who hated Anders, and apparently today the boss would be out, leaving Anders to actually come in and enjoy the atmosphere. Given that Anders were his targeted customers, the Mingo’s member couldn’t help but show up.
As the waitress got his coffee together, he flexed his fingers, wanting to take off his glovers. It was hot today, the sun was out, and the sun always loved to shine on black things. Like his gloves. And clothes. And hair. It was a wonder how the feline didn’t overheat during the summer months, but he had his secrets.
“So I heard your boss isn’t the nicest guy.” It was one way to start a conversation, and hopefully find out if the rumors were true. Was always best to find out from the source.
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
Fawn turned as someone entered and did nothing more than order. He offered no greeting or friendly word. Just in, sit, and order. She usually got more than that. Shrugging the woman went behind the counter and did as he asked. Fresh coffee with six creams and no sugars. Fawn set the steaming cup in front of the man with a small smile. She placed a folded napkin beside the drink out of habit. Just then her customer began to speak. There we go, that's more like it. The cafe was boring without some chat. "He's nice to everyone who isn't an ander. May I ask who wants to know?" Fawn turned her back to him to place the coffee pot back on its oversized burnt coaster. Long history that coaster had, being thrown, burnt, cracked multiple times and still going. She turned back around picking up a rag and wiping her fingers off while studying the man at the counter. 'He really likes black.' She mused quirking an eyebrow.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 28, 2015 0:40:50 GMT
When the coffee was placed in front of him, he picked up the cup and took a sip, despite the steaming heat. The creamy liquid tasted good, he liked this place. As for her question, he chuckled dryly before answering. “Who else, but someone who has some kind of affiliation with Ander kind?” So the boss was actually mean. Now to kind out if the worker here was an Ander or not herself. Then he’d be in the clear to start sharing some stuff bout his business.
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
The green haired girl regarded him carefully. So he worked with Anders. That put him on her nice list so far. "I take it my updates are getting out and around nicely." She said putting the cloth down and crossing her arms. Only an Ander would spread rumors of the anti-ander boss going on a vacation. As far as Fawna knew there were only two Andersweltlers enlisted as staff in the entire building. Henry, the man who worked in the kitchen most of the time and and rarely seen, and herself. Everyone else was human and maybe a half-Ander or two who couldn't use magic. Over all it was a decent place to work and paid decently, enough to get by.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 28, 2015 1:11:16 GMT
He brought the cup to his lips again, taking another sip. “I take it your views on Anders conflicts with your boss’s?” he asked next, setting the cup down. She seemed like a nice girl. Probably general or winged. Working a diner involved using your hands a long hours spent standing on your feet, so claws would be out of the question, not to mention that her eyes didn’t seem to be glowing. A trained eye (specifically a trained feline eye) could spot the glowing it in any light. A shame really, he liked chatting with fellow felines the most.
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
"You'd be correct in assumin' that." She replied with a bit of a smirk. "And I take it your an Ander yourself with all these questions 'bout the topic." Fawn turned away from him and pushed her gaze upwards to the top shelves of ingredients and supplies behind the counter on the wall. She took a mental tally and seemed satisfied. "What's your name?" She asked looking at him over her shoulder as she picked up two coffee cups at a time and started stacking them neatly in the cupboards just below the bar. Lawrence couldn't bother himself to put them up himself and always left it for someone else. She peeked up over the counters edge a few times.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 28, 2015 1:53:27 GMT
Good, she wasn’t oblivious; the feline Ander appreciated that in a person. He took his elbows off the counter then, seeing no need to suffer with his gloves on any longer. Pulling them off, one finger at a time, he set the pair of black leather claw-hiders on the counter before answering. “Egdar, Edgar Anapello. I work in a business that caters to Anderswelters, specifically Anderswelters who wish to let no one know that they are anything but human. And by what name do you use, miss?”
He picked up his coffee again, claws making a light “tink” sound as they made contact with the cup. Taking a large drink of the beverage, he set it down again and waiting for the lady to answer.
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
Fawn took hardly any notice of the gloves on the countertop. 'Feline eh?' She thought absently. Standing back up she wiped her hands on her apron. "Fawna Evans. But call me Fawn, it's a pleasure." She pondered his business. "I daresay you'd find good work around here." Plenty here who would love to hide the fact. She flashed a glance to his drink checking its contents. Then she studied him, taking in all the black once again.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 28, 2015 2:24:08 GMT
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, his eyes drifting around the shop, only pausing slightly at the green hair and blue bandana. It wouldn’t hurt to make a proposition, if only a small one, about his business. Perhaps he’d even get a customer out of it, but hopefully at the very she’s spread the word to anyone interesting. “I do find work, but I’m always looking for more.” Pausing, he turned his attention to this “Fawn” and looked her in the eyes. Not in an intimidating way, no, but more of a general interest. “Do you, perhaps, know anyone working for an Ander-hater who would like to hide their secret?”
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
Fawn returned his look evenly. She was never one to shy down and didn't plan on starting today. She chuckled at his question. "I know people on the street who walk by here every day wishing they could hide themselves. But if ya just want small work than I suggest Henry. He works in the back but won't be in today. I can tell him you came by." She picked up the coffee mug and refilled his cup. She'd rather do it now than get lost talking and forget. She set it back behind her.
"This entire block of shops are run by snooty richies who don't like us because we break their toys." Fawn said sarcastically rolling her eyes. The very thought of the fact rubbed her the wrong way. Shaking her head, green hair whipping back and forth lightly, the woman disappeared in the back for a moment to retrieve the muffins she was baking. The oven door creaked at her presence but with no one else here she was the only one who could work with it. The placed the tray on table and transferred the warm fluffy pastries into a decorated basket. The winged ander then brought the basket out and set it on top on the counter a little bit away from Edgar on the cake holder to showcase such treats. Small wisps of steam rose from them. She laid a cloth over them to keep them warm.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 28, 2015 3:15:18 GMT
So there was business to be had; that was always good news. He took one more drink from his coffee before she refilled it. But she didn’t bring more cream. Hmm. Then she disappeared in back, only to return with some rather good looking muffins.
“I’ll take one of those,” he pointed to the muffins. He wasn’t one to chat without buying things. “If you wouldn’t mind passing on the Anapello name to anyone looking to hide, I’d appreciate it and I’m sure they would too. I’ll even let the first meeting be free if they know your name.” He clicked a claw against his coffee cup as he looked down at the much-too-dark depths. Maybe that clue her in to the forgotten cream.
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
Fawn nodded and reached below the counter to get a small plate while he continued on. She was about to hand it to him when she heard the tapping. The girl narrowed her eyes at him momentarily. Looking at the cup she remembered he asked for cream the first time and the second time around she had forgotten due to the muffins. "Sure thing." Setting the muffin in front of him with a soft chink of the plate on the countertop she turned and grabbed a small handful of creams. She set them beside his plate. "And there I thought ya liked black." She said good humouredly and adding a sassy smile. 'Don't tap at me boy.' She thought her smile growing a bit. 'I'm not a trained dog.' Fawn left him to his muffin, cream, and coffee while she went to clean a table or two still in range to hear him if he wished to carry on.
Post by Edgar Anapello on Jul 28, 2015 3:41:36 GMT
The muffin smelled excellent. Edgar picked it up and took a bit, pleased to see the cream arriving. While munching the muffin he added the cream to his coffee, chuckling a little when he heard the girl’s comment. “Don’t like everything black,” he replied.
With his coffee back at the way he liked it, he leisurely dunked his muffin in it, enjoying the way the flavors blended together. “So what do you like to do? I would hope you don’t answer the way I do, that being work.”
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets." -Paul Tournier
"Nope, definitely not a fan of work." Not with the arse who runs the joint still kicking. "I read." She said simply. She would have added, and fly, but she had gotten so used to avoiding all mention of her Ander self at work. "Nice to know I have more fun than you do." She smirked scrubbing a tough stain off the table. She liked this man, he was unusually blunt. Not many people you met sat there with a clear head and spoke. Most either stuttered, ran the conversation in circles, or downright proposed because they were drunk. Not the best conversation starter, Fawn required dinner first. The woman finished her work and returned to the front tossing the rag into the sink from the doorway leading to the kitchen. It plunked itself into the sink with a splash.
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