bakerstreet | Come in and sit awhile

Come in and sit awhile

the Coffee shop meme

Your character finds themselves in a coffee shop:

maybe your character works as a barista
maybe they're just unwinding after a long day at work
getting their caffeine fix in the morning
maybe they're on a date

whatever the reason; everyone's welcome.

This version from here

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ she wonders, sometimes, how time passes for other people. months and days pass by so fleetingly, skipping away from all these finite creatures with timestamps on their lives. does it not terrify them? she's never thought to ask, before, and she doesn't think she will, not now. humans became a very inconsequential part of her life long ago, their faces change too often for her to really keep any kind of count. despite that, she thinks that time is agonisingly slow. are a hundred years supposed to pass in the blink of an eye for things like her? maybe. but for marlena, every century crawls by, dangling the potential promise of change in front of her eyes but never delivering. everything stays the same.

it's different here, though. she'd never admit the childish pleasure she takes in hot showers and sumptuously soft beds, or that she never knew food could taste so varied, or even so good. what she loves the most, though, is tea. the sheer number of different teas you can have, fruit and herbal, black and green and white. she never buys the same tea two days in a row; today, she's nursing a cup of white tea with pomegranate (she has no idea what that is, but she likes it), bunched up in a soft coffee shop armchair, knees drawn up almost to her chin, bare feet perched on the leather edge. her sophisticated, comfortable shoes sit under the chair. they're nice, but she's not quite used to the comfort of them yet. staring blankly out at the cold patterns on the window, marlena waits, not caring that her palms are burning around the steaming hot mug in her hands. ]

[He knows of things like her. Things that should be human and yet something crawls beneath their skin that make them something else. Maybe to some she may be a goddess of some kind, but Petre knows much better. Were she actually a deity and he'd be crying blood in her presence, bile rising to his mouth because something as unholy as him can never be near the divine. So, what she is is an abomination, just like him, and that's the way he likes her.

They're complete opposites, however. Neither truly capable of dying just yet, but while she's been trudging for seven centuries and counting, he's only been really alive for six years. His time will be up much sooner than hers; he's sure. The Devil Herself can be patient or finicky, it all depends on Her whims, and Petre only knows that he'll be making the most of his time on this Earth as he can. What awaits him on the other side isn't darkness - it's eternal damnation. Fire. Searing your skin and making you scream for endless days. Years. Centuries. Millenniums.

He comes close to her ear, leaning over her shoulder with a smile on his lips.]

Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.

[ she's just anomalous, unnatural, abnormal. there's never been a more comforting thought than that of his survival in her presence meaning she's just... something. nothing special or particular, just a thing that's not quite like other things. it's a pathetic way of grappling for some kind of normal quality; i can't die forever, i can't grow old, but at least i'm not holy. it's the nicest thought she's had in years.

his voice in her ear isn't startling. she barely moves, though the hairs on her arms stand up a little beneath her sleeves, her pale skin goose pimpled and chilled because she can't identify him the way that he can her, she can't read into him and figure him out without his guidance or his hints, but he exudes something unsettling. marlena's never met anyone like him, but that's why she likes their strange little friendship. petre's so unlike anyone that has plagued her life, she looks at him in a puppy-like, almost reverential way whilst at the same time being impossibly wary. she trusts him about as far as she can throw him (treatment she extends to everyone she meets), but she likes to be around him. ]

You could've taken all day, [ her voice is dreamy, but thick with contentment, a cat who's got the cream ] It wouldn't have mattered. I'd have been here anyway.

[He slides to his seat while she replies, drink present in his hand without any delay to his order. He placed it the moment he arrived, knowing fully well he wouldn't want to be interrupted soon as they begun to speak to one another.]

Just for me? Color me flattered.

Of course not. [ the glazed, far-off look in her eyes sharpens into something intent and alert, her voice suddenly firm. her posture straightens somewhat as she sits up in the chair, all at once looking almost regal rather than childish and demure. ] Just because I like it here. Don't you find it relaxing?

Edited 2014-12-02 14:22 (UTC)

I don't really care about relaxing, love.

[He's a skittish one, frugal and greedy and impatient and all-consuming. To relax is to stop, to stop is to die. But she'd know a thing or two about that.]

Guess you'd have all the time in the world for that.

And I want to make the most of it.

[ she tips her head to one side, watching him impassively. ]

If you aren't interested in relaxing, what are you doing here? I'm not exactly exciting, am I?