• x
  
  lycanthus ;

It seemed that these days the lounge received less traffic than usual. Lycanthus couldn't help but sigh, slouching behind the counter as he twirled a pencil idly in his hand. It sucked to be confined to the cafe's walls on days like these— while he had no particular attachment to any world beyond the lounge's door, he was so, so, so very bored of just listening to dust settle on his wood floors. And he was someone who needed stimulation— by the name of the devil, he'd settle for mingling with inferior mortal beings if it meant he'd have something to do.

Being so bored one could die was problematic for someone with a lifespan that stretched on for eternities.

Alas, there was little Lycan could do but wait for the sound of his door opening. The jingle of the cafe's entrance would be a sweet a sound as any, growing increasingly sweeter as the hours stretched on.

All he had to do was sit tight until a divine act of providence brought entertainment his way.

"Watching paint dry sounds pretty fun right now, huh?" Vincent's low voice trailed through the unstimulating atmosphere as he wiped the same spot on the counter for the eighth time. His eyes scanned the area as he searched for some other menial task to complete before he seriously considered flushing his own head down the toilet. Unlike most of the employee's who worked at this strange cafe, Vince isn't at all very interesting— therefor the guest aren't very interested in anything that he has to offer (bad attitude and eye rolls all inclusive).

Eventually Vince walked away from behind the counter, figuring that a nice facial plunge down the toilet was more suitable to cure his own ennui. Though just as he had started towards the restrooms, the familiar jingle of the doors pulled him back to his original station. It was a regular who made him feel as old as they were young and as the youthful face of a boy named Parker sat down on one of the many green sofas, Vince had already decided that he wasn't going to be making much conversation.

With his chin resting in his palm, the barista thought longingly of something else to do as he smiled in a painfully awkward manner and wiped down the counter again.

• x
  
  alexander maechevsky ;

He'd been having the same weird dream for days now. Not consecutive days mind you, but reoccurring dreams were rare enough to begin with that Alex's attention was drawn to the details of the landscape he'd find himself in after he'd gone to bed and closed his eyes.

The image that lingered in his mind was that of a cafe, with wooden floors and the gentle smell of coffee permeating through the air. Whether or not he was truly here or not in this cafe may have been an extraneous, unnecessary detail, because for the time being it seemed to only make sense that he, Alex, ought to order a cup of his favorite beverage— coffee.

Now, once again, he was outside the exterior of the cafe, opening the door to a familiar setting. Only this time, there were a few faces he did not recognize.

"Erm, hello," he tried, somewhat unsure of himself. "I'll just be, um. Over here."

Smooth Alex, smooth. There was no reason for him to greet some random strangers in a cafe, yet the words left his mouth before he could do anything about it.

He settled down at a table near the far wall in order to not draw attention to himself, pulling his should bag onto the table so he could easily slip out a textbook. No need to worry about talking to anyone as long as he was preoccupied, right? And in a few moments, he'd go and get coffee.

In other words, a solid plan.

Standing in the kitchen, Coretta was having trouble getting her three-year-old to calm down. Little Ariana had a sudden craving for ice cream, something Coretta couldn't allow because of the possibility of getting sugar rush. The last thing that was needed was for Ariana to be running around all hyper and crazy during opening hours.

"Ari, I told you, no ice cream in the morning!" She held her daughter's hands in her own. "Listen to me." Her voice was firm and commanding, yet gentle. "No ice cream." The little one's eyes were wide and angry, as if her life depended on getting that cup of ice cream that she so dearly wanted. "What do you say, Ari?"

"Yes, Mommy," came the hesitant, yet obedient reply.

"Good girl," Coretta said, smiling. "I'll give you ice cream later, okay?" The little girl gave a small nod. "Now stay here until Mommy comes back. Be a good girl for Mommy." Another small nod. Coretta smiled and gave her daughter a kiss. "Love you, baby."

"Love you, Mommy," said Ariana before giving her mother a small peck.

Coretta left the kitchen and into the cafe, where Vincent was cleaning the table. "Hello, Vincent!" she greeted the man. "How's it going?"

As she waited for the other's response, she noticed a customer coming through the door. She gave Vincent a "be right back" look and went over to the table where Mr. Maechevsky was seated.

"Hello, Mr. Maechevsky!" she greeted the customer. "What can I get you?"