ArchivedLogs:Sweet Apology

Sweet Apology
Dramatis Personae Hanna, Shane, Jayna
In Absentia	2014-01-08 '
Location <NYC> Happy Cakes Bakery - TriBeCa
Happy Cakes Bakery is a cheery little spot of vintage charm amidst the hustle and bustle of the Manhattan neighborhood, a refurbished pair of row homes that hardly resemble their previous selves - the front walls are almost entirely gleaming glass, with the logo of the bakery painted onto the top, and rainbows of cupcakes dancing along the edges. Eclectically styled, it seems homey and welcoming - if the cross stitched sign by the door wasn't obvious enough - "All are Welcome!" it reads, with the "All" underlined in a sparkling bubble gum pink and yellow dotted line, with the logo of the bakery, a cheery smiling pink and white cupcake, beneath the lettering. Once inside, the walls of the combination bakery and coffee shop are covered in crisp clean white ceramic tile, with the occasional randomly placed tile with an color engraving of a tropical flower, or tile made of reclaimed China. Ambient music reminiscent of the Big Band era plays through the shop, loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to make conversation difficult. Tables and chairs in a variety of sizes, colors, and styles fill one side of the room, none of them quite matching each other, but all of them seeming to work together. The other side of the shop is a long series of gleaming glass and chrome bakery displays, filled with colorful sweets and treats of every description. To one end of the counter is a gleaming chrome espresso machine with far more tubes and bobbles than is really necessary, but producing excellent espresso beverages. At the other end is the old style cash register, a chrome and cherry wood relic from a bygone age that dings cheerily with each sale. The wall behind the counter is covered in photos of a tropical island, as well as a pair of shops that look like a smaller version of this one, several including a pair of dark haired women. New York is a decidedly cold place this week, with ample wind chill warnings and near record breaking low temperatures. The mood in the city has been crankier than normal, but that is New York for you. In spite of all this, Happy Cakes Bakery is a cheery spot of warmth and welcoming in the winter chill. All of the previously damaged windows have been repaired at last, and the view inside is a bustling, with people anxious to enjoy the hot beverages and friendly atmosphere. Behind the main pastry counter, decked out in a bright pink, long sleeved swing dress over a dark pink crinoline, Hanna is adjusting the yellow ties to her apron as she talks to a customer. For the first time in a while, the baker is smiling, bouncing, and apparently back to her normal self - she bounces about with a youthful vigor to fufill the order she just took. Just to the side, leaning against the coffee station, is Jayna, bundled up in a dark green cable-knit sweater several sizes too large for her thin frame, paired with black leggings and knee high brown boots. Rather than a scarf or dreadlocks, however, the dryad's head is covered by a close fitting knit cap in a neon green and yellow stripe - she looks exhausted as she walks Hanna through creating a specific beverage for the most recent customer. The opening of the door lets a sharp blast of frigid air inside, along with one very tiny blue shark-boy. Currently bundled up snug against the cold -- blue mittens, blue scarf wound around most of his face, blue cap, black peacoat -- in frigid weather with everyone bundled, Shane is not very eye-catching until he starts winding the scarf down. Kind of /tentatively/; in recent days his rather /distinctively/ recognizable face has become, well, rather distinctively recognizable, and with his father's alleged participation in creating the plague that decimated the city, the violent hostility his family has placed has most certainly /not/ been limited to those who are anti-mutant, but spread far and wide to /anyone/ who lost someone in the plague. Which is -- most everyone. It might be the bustle of the store or might be the over-cheery shop that has his black eyes darting restlessly around, his posture curling inward as though to make his diminutive frame even smaller. He ducks his head against the looks his unusual features inevitably garner, wringing his scarf in his hands and definitively not making eye contact with any other patrons as he sneaks in behind the already-waiting customers to wait his turn at the counter. It is a bit difficult to hear the jingle of the cluster of silver bells over the door, between the music and the general chatter of the customers; Hanna however, does look up, offering a kind smile and wave to the incoming customer. The brightly colored baker shivers slightly at the breeze of cool air that comes in with Shane; her smile is unfaltering, though. She bustles about for several minutes, working both the pastries and the coffee station, with slightly less efficiency than Jayna typically manages. The line moves quickly enough, and soon it is Shane's turn to order. There is perhaps a bit of grumbling and a hush of silence as Shane unwraps his winter gear - the scrape of a few chairs against the tile floor, with the customers leaving half finished food and coffee sitting at the table. Hanna offers a pointed glare at these people as they make a hasty exit, pouring all the disapproval she can muster into the glare from her cool blue eyes. Shaking her head, she turns her attention back to Shane, offering a kind smile, "Hi there, ah, Shane?" She doesn't sound so certain she has the correct twin name to the present twin, but offers the greeting none the less. Her voice is quiet and warm, with the soft tinge of concern at the edges, "What brings you in today? Anything I can get for you?" "Hi." Shane sounds apologetic already, eyes not lifting and his mittened hands still wringing at his scarf. He scans the display cases, weight shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. "Wow, I haven't been here since --" This thought cuts off with a quick flutter of gills. He darts a quick glance up at Hanna, but drops his eyes again soon. "Hi." Though he's already covered that part. "{Sorry}," is in quiet Vietnamese, the /tone/ of apology clear enough though, "I'm -- ordering, right, um. I need cookies. For -- Mel. Mel-cookies. Do you have snickerdoodles? Or -- ginger snaps. She likes those. What other cookies are -- best for apologizing?" "Oh, no need to apologize to me. It's alright," Hanna says quietly, offering a sad smile. "But, apology cookies? For Melinda?" Hanna asks, leaning on the counter to look sideways at the display case, making a quiet 'hmm' sound. "Well, we do have snickerdoodles and gingersnaps. How big of an apology are we talking? I have a good chewy chocolate espresso cookie - plenty of chocolate, which is usually a good form of apology." She taps her lip with a finger thoughtfully, looking over the case again, "I can do a sampler - one of each kind of cookie I have today? There four different ones in that case - snickerdoodles, gingersnaps, chocolate chip, and chocolate espresso? Or, I can do more, if this is a bigger apology." "Oh, espresso. Coffee is good too." Shane's hands twist back and forth, winding at the knit scarf. "Well I kind of --" His blue cheeks darken, shifting a little closer to purple. "Might have started. Yelling -- swearing. At a. Customer. On shift yesterday in the middle of the -- store, I." His weight shifts again, the toe of one boot thumping against the heel of the other. "... maybe like a dozen. Like three. Of each. Might be a better -- I said fuck a lot." Hanna chuckles quietly, "Oh, sweetie, I've been there before. But this is quite thoughtful of you. So - one dozen cookies, three of each kind?" Hanna double checks that she caught his order properly, reaching behind her to pick up one of the small boxes for cookies. Her light colored eyes glance up and around the cafe, as though making note of just which customers she would curse out given the chance. "D'ja want anything for yourself?" she asks quietly, starting to pack the cookies into the box once the order is confirmed. The small chuckle puts a small smile on Shane's face, eyes lifting tentatively again to Hanna's. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. I mean it's not just yesterday I think I'm -- kind of difficult a lot," he admits with an uncomfortable rub at the back of his neck. "And hardly anyone would even hire me at /all/ and I keep -- vanishing and then everyone wants to pick fights and then /I/ --" His gills flare again. "But don't you ever just want to --" He draws in a sharper breath, head turning to follow the path of Hanna's gaze around the store. His eyes widen slightly at the question of something for himself. "Oh -- oh. Do you have anything with -- my pa used to make these. Chai cupcakes that were like --" He shakes his head suddenly, eyes scrunching up tight. "Or pumpkin chocolate chip, those were his favourite." Hanna's attention is focused on boxing up the cookie order, humming quietly as she stacks them neatly into the box. "I used to work in a tiny little dive bar in Chicago," Hanna admits, peeking around the case to Shane, and keeping an eye on the people beyond, watching for trouble makers, "Certain habits from working there were just a tiny bit hard to break once I opened this place." She smiles, setting the box gently on the counter - the design has changed, now a soft yellow box, with the logo on a sticker holding it shut, "There you go. One dozen apology cookies." The request for something his dad made makes Hanna's breath catch, and she thinks for a moment, looking at the case, "I have a pumpkin cheese cake brownie, if that sounds good? And I can make you a chai? It's freezing out there. Stay in and warm up a little bit before heading out into the ridiculous cold?" Hanna looks back at Shane, her eyes having darkened to a muddy blue-brown, as though unsure what to say. Shane's smile curls a little bit wider. He drapes his scarf loosely around his neck and takes his wallet out from a pocket, fingers clenching and unclenching around it. "Oh. Oh, dive bar I could maybe manage. Did you get to curse at people there?" He sounds So Hopeful. "Though this guy wasn't drunk just -- just. A jerk." He rests his hand on the yellow box, pulling it in closer. "Oh -- oh. Chai would be nice. With soy -- maybe skip the brownie though I'm. Bad at too much dairy. Um -- {sorry,}" he says again at the catch of breath. "Bad -- subject I know I just." He swallows, looking down once more as his gills ripple. "It was a form of greeting. Sometimes I miss it a bit," Hanna says with a smirk, glancing sideways at Jayna, who hasn't really moved much during the conversation, "But even colder than it is here. I didn't last long there." She leans on the counter, frowning slightly, "Ah, no dairy? Hm. I can mess around with the recipe a bit, and see what I can come up with that is non dairy, if you wanted to come by another day. Or I can do delivery - not that far of a trip from my place to yours." Jayna does, however, start preparing the chai, a wistful but tired smile on her thin lips as she goes through the carefully practiced motions of preparing the tea. Hanna shakes her head at Shane's apology, keeping her voice quiet, "No, sweetie, please don't apologize for talking about your dad. He is a kind man, I've met him, and know the stuff they are saying is a heap of shit." For the motherly looking woman, that word seems to roll off her tongue with a practiced ease and flare. "Anything else I can get for you? I've got a pretty good vegan chocolate spice cupcake today?" she offers, eyes scanning the restaurant and making sure no one is going to cause trouble for either of them. "Are you okay?" Shane is directing this past Hanna to Jayna, now, watching her tired motions with a furrowed brow of concern. "You look pretty -- not-ok." He shrugs at the offer of recipe tinkering, though for a moment he does look a little brighter. "Oh -- I mean, it's not. Like a /serious/ allergy or something most baked goods are okay? Just. Too /much/ -- so cheesecakey things are kind of. A lot to digest." Another shrug, his eyes lowering to his mittened hands again. "He's very kind," he says, very softly. "People like Malthus try to make out like that's a weakness but I don't --" He swallows, blushing deeper and turning a quicker brighter smile up to Hanna. "Chocolate spice? Oh wow. My Ba loves spicey chocolate, can I get /four/? I'll bring them home for him and my brothers, too." Jayna blinks for a moment, realizing that the question is directed at her, offering a soft smile, "Not contagious, I promise. I'm... a tree, basically. Winter's cold and dark, and isn't exactly great to me, but I couldn't just stay at the apartment alone. Too quiet, too much grump." The barista sets a medium soy chai down in front of Shane for him to take, offering an apologetic smile. Hanna shakes her head and sighs, glancing sidelong at Jayna, before nodding to Shane, "Oh, sure, four chocolate spice? Can do. They're chile and cinnamon. Figured it was a nice warm treat for a cold day." She offers a pleased smile, boxing up the cupcakes for him. "If you guys need anything, let me know, ok? I'm just a few floors up, and I'm out and around New York pretty much every day. I can bring stuff in if you need it," she says quietly, slipping the two boxes into a neat little brown bag (with the smiling cupcake logo on the front) for ease of carrying. "Oh, I wasn't worried about you being contagious I -- pretty much never get sick. Just --" Shane shrugs a shoulder. "Just you didn't look good. Um. Do you need sunlamps? Cuz we have --" His clear inner eyelids blink rapidly a few times. "Have -- really excellent sunlamps, they help Pa get through winter, if you wanted -- to bring some into the store." He smiles at the boxed-up goods, taking the bag with a nod of thanks and opening his wallet to pull out some cash. "I --" He hesitates, cheeks tinting darker again. "-- I think my Ba might could just use some. Friends. He's really a -- people person, you know, and this is. Hard for him, with Pa gone and -- most of the city thinks he's some horrible. Traitor, I -- think just. People who are -- kind. Helps. Him. And you're -- kind." "Oh, thank you, hon. I've actually got quite a few in the back that I occasionally go sit under for a while. I'll be doing better soon, but thank you," Jayna says with a nod, leaning back against the coffee station, "I look worse than I feel, really. But thanks." Hanna nods, and goes about ringing Shane up - just for the cookies, as apparently the chai and cupcakes are her treat. "Alright. I wasn't sure how much company he wanted or didn't want. But... we'll definitely stop by and check in. Probably bring by some food, too. It's sort of my coping mechanism, and how I offer comfort, I suppose," Hanna says with a gentle smile. Shane looks surprised at the total, eyes widening faintly as he hands over the money -- and still further when he looks at the receipt. "Oh." He smiles, quick and toothy-bright, and pulls himself up with palms pressed on the counter to lean across it and peck a very light kiss to Hanna's cheek. "Thank you. Things have been -- um. Thank you." He hugs the bag close to his chest, winding his scarf back around his face before taking the chai. "I think he'd like that. You -- have a good day." This seems offered to Jayna and Hanna both, as he lifts his cup in a salute of farewell. Hanna looks a little bit surprised by the kiss on her cheek, but the contact brings with it a happy warmth, not unlike that of a pleasant memory or warm summer's day. She offers a bright smile to Shane, and nods, "Keep your chin up, eh? Have a good rest of the day, Shane." Both women offer a happy wave to the departing young man, Hanna offering a, "Stay safe, and tell Mel I say hi when you see her." There may be a few grumbles from around the cafe, but Hanna seems to give absolutely no care to them, watching carefully as Shane exits, as though she might just leap the counter and punch anyone who messes with the young man.