ArchivedLogs:Conflict and Coffee

Conflict and Coffee
Best lunch ever.
Dramatis Personae Cage, Melinda, Selene, Shane, Chelsea
In Absentia	2014-01-07 Cage runs into Shane at his work. Things don't go too smoothly.
Location <NYC> Montagues - SoHo
Montagues harkens back to the day when SoHo was filled to the brim with artists, with its mismatched furniture, all plush and decorated heavily with carved wood, but remains trendy enough to keep its newer patrons by making sure that furniture is clean, in good repair and inviting. The antique tables all have been reinforced to seem less creaky. The real draw of the cafe is the smell: fresh roasted coffee mingles with perfectly steeped teas. Spices from crisp pastries mingle with the tang of clotted cream but don't overwhelm too much the scent of chalk on the menu boards. Sub-zero wind chill drives everyone brave enough to leave the warmth of their homes and places of business to seek the comforts of a hot cup of their favorite beverage. While the cafe is not crowded per se, the intensity of those who duck in and bee-line straight into line is palpable. The staff of Montagues is warm and friendly, handling each intense individual with speed and efficiency. Melinda is dressed in a short sleeved white button down which is baggy up by her shoulders, the arms far too big for a woman her size. The lower half of the shirt fits well, so all is forgiven. Slacks in black gird her loins and the rest of her legs, with comfortable flats on her feet. She is in the middle of tying back her hair as she emerges from the kitchen, her eyes shifting quickly over the whole of the dining room before settling on the young man at the register, who is trying to prep a drink while taking an order. She touches his shoulder and asks him where he wants her - and ends up taking over the register after he finishes taking the cash. She smiles and looks to the next customer. "How can I help you?" One advantage to owning a ridiculous four-wheel drive Humvee is being able to get around town on days like this. The Cage family hasn't wanted to intrude on the Holland-Zedners directly, but apparently they thought they'd try their luck at Montagues, just in case. Luke enters through the front door, holding the door open for his daughter Chelsea. They're both in warm looking clothes: heavy jeans, boots, pea coats (his is black, hers bright red), and Chelsea has straightened her hair. It looks like she's done this in an attempt to hide the extra pair of ears growing on the sides of her head, just in front of the normal pair, but if anyone really looks, there they are. When they step into line Luke raises his eyebrows and offers a friendly wave when he spies Melinda working at the counter, though as busy as they are it wouldn't be surprising if she missed his wave. The pair wait patiently, while Chelsea keeps a keen eye out for either of blue twins in case they're working today. Entering the cafe is a very-well dressed woman, clad in a black jacket with matching trousers and boots, black hair flowing down, a pair of black gloves over her hands as she looks around the cafe. Selene looks around the cafe, before heading up into line behind Cage and Chelsea, snapping her mind around the room. She’s scanning everyone around her, as she usually does when she enters a room, pulling up surface thoughts. Selene looks around, before recognizing Luke Cage in front of her. Curious, she takes a briefly deeper look into his thoughts, just past surface but not particularly digging before smiling and tapping her feet in anxiety. There is /one/ SmallBlueShark here today at least. Sebastian has work of his own but Shane is here, dressed -- blandly as is his wont for a shift of largely just dishwashing. Faded blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt, Xavier’s sweatshirt with its sleeves pushed up above his elbows. There’s flecks of dampness around the lower hem of his shirt from washing dishes in the back. He is emerging from the kitchen with a carafe in each hand -- one labeled ‘WHOLE MILK’, one labeled ‘HALF AND HALF’, recently both refilled and now being returned to the station for doctoring up drinks after they’re received. His nose twitches, at other familiar scents in the air; he’s already bristling even /before/ he looks towards Cage and Chelsea, simply from the stares and unfriendly murmurs (all /too/ audible to his keen hearing) that go rippling through the room at his presence. /His/ surface thoughts are largely prickly. Tired, /worried/, irritated, an angry protective /bristling/ when he notes Cage’s presence, an angry protective cursing at some of the farther-off murmurs about his dad. His huge black eyes fix very /steadily/ on the rest of the drink station as he checks the remaining carafes, thoughts /also/ focusing on his work instead of on anger. Skim milk also needs refilling. Bring out more sugar packets. Refill the cinnamon. Melinda may seem calm on the exterior, but her mind is full of lists and things to do, with the notion that she is waiting on a phone call from her doctor's office to see if they can reschedule her today or tomorrow. The movement of Cage's hand catches her attention. She smiles and makes eye contact with him, giving him a small nod instead of a wave, as she's mid-sentence with her current customer, but soon enough, she's sent him on his way and Cage and Chelsea are next. "Hey, Luke. How'ya been? Haven't seen you in a while." The younger female is noted and smiled at. "What can I get you?" The moment Shane steps out from the back, a small trigger flips in Mel's head and she begins accessing other senses, that hint of proximity and the movement of shadows in her peripheral vision (by no means mutant enhanced), to keep an eye on the teen. Protectively. Her gaze drifts from Cage and Chelsea to the dining room, looking for anyone who might speak up, ready to silence them with a deadpan glare. Luke barely registers the woman walking up behind up him, as does Chelsea. Their minds are occupied with several active thoughts. Luke is constantly on the lookout for harassers and danger. Chelsea's mind is very concerned with how the twins might be doing. At the first sign of Shane, Chelsea breaks the line and walks quickly over to greet the boy as he sets out the drinks. "Hey…" she says, suddenly unsure of herself, taking in Shane's busyness and tension. "I'm… Have you heard anything yet?" Luke smiles when it's their turn at the front of the line. At Melinda's greeting, he nods and says, "Been ok. Better than ok-" He frowns slightly as Chelsea bounds away, and then nods at Shane, his mind a mix of regret and sadness. He turns back to Melinda though and says, "Got a daughter for Christmas," he says to Mel, nodding at the girl talking to Shane. He shrugs, as if that communicates how strange the world can be sometimes. "We need a couple of coffees, a chicken sandwich, and a roast beef, if you have it?" Luke digs a wallet out of his back pocket and is ready to pay. The moment Shane walks out, is the moment Selene’s interest peaks. She shows very little facial interest, and tries and pretends she just, doesn’t care. But, she’s instead digging into the minds of them to try and figure out the connection between Cage-Holland-Zedners, out of pure interest and deviousness. Selene reaches into her pocket, pulling out a leather wallet, pulling out a single bill before putting the wallet back in, grinning, though remaining silent, her unneeding to speak at this point. “Why is he here.” This is all Shane greets Chelsea with, stiff and uncomfortable. The fragments of memory drifting up that form his connection with Cage oddly have nothing to do with Cage at all, at first glance. A huge muscular man with a muzzle on his face. A desperate gnawing hunger, harsh white lights in cold steel cages. Another teenager, dark gleaming chitin in place of skin, tears dampening Shane’s shirt. Shane picks up the nearly-empty carafe of skim milk, fingers curling hard around it as he turns, eyes narrowing sharply on Cage. “It’s bad enough the rest of the crap I get all day.” Melinda's chin pulls back quickly at the mention of a child for Christmas, her brows furrowing. "Wow. Who's the lucky mother? She sure shot up quickly, didn't she?" While joking that Luke received the child in the standard biological way, her mind is settled comfortably in the idea that the child is someone Cage is looking after. Her fingers plunk against the register and the total comes up moments later, a figure she repeats to Cage. "The sandwiches will be up momentarily." She turns her head, eyes narrowing briefly on Selene's gleeful expression, before turning to her busboy. "Shane --" The expression on his face and the tension in his shoulders shoulders stop her words. Any attempt to give him a break to hang out with Chelsea are tossed out as she tries to come up with another task to give him in the mean time. "I need some more hazelnut milk, if you're heading back to the fridge." "Oh um…" Chelsea says quietly. She's confused by Shane's reaction, glancing back at her dad, and then to Shane again. When she realizes Shane needs to rush off, she adds quickly and quietly, "The Professor figured out Luke's my dad. We came looking for you and B when we realized we both know you and… your family." She seems a little flummoxed for what else to say at this point. Luke nods and pays Melinda with a card from his wallet, his mind flicking back fifteen years to an image of his high school sweetheart. He smiles gently at Melinda's question, and leans in to speak low enough that he thinks Chelsea won't have to hear. "It's complicated… Her mom's gone, but I'm glad she found me." When Melinda addresses Shane by name, he mentally nods, confirming his suspicion about which twin this was. His mind flicks again, this time to a bloody scene of fighting zombies in a crowded intersection. The image is accompanied by regret. "Shane..." he says, loud enough to be heard from the register, but then isn't sure how to continue in the publicness of the front counter. His expression is sad, and he adds, "Was hoping to catch up with you. To make my apologies. See if you all needed anything." Luke glances around, noticing the woman behind and shrugging. "Template:Sorry lady," he says, the first part in Spanish. "Didn't mean to take so long." “It’s fine. No rush.” Selene states plainly, trying to remain polite, as she flickers through the thoughts she’s picked up in her head. Her mind is trying to dig into this thing between Shane and Cage, it fascinating her greatly, as does many conflicts in life. Flicking the money between her hands, she smiles, already knowing exactly what she’s ordering. When she finally gets the chance to order, her order is simple and swift. “One black, with a bagel, thank you.”. Selene grins again, but this seems to play off as her grinning in anticipation of food. Shane exhales a /sharp/ huff of breath here, his eyebrows lifting incredulously. “Jesus, didn’t /you/ just win the fucking dad jackpot.” His tone here is more than a little disgusted. “Both know us? I guess he forgot to mention the part where he /knows/ us because of the fucking wannabe rapist he hired. And then /defended/ because man raping kids s’no big deal we all make mistakes. -- /Fuck you/.” This is sharper, gills flaring out as he glares at Cage for his apologies. “Fuck you /and/ your apologies and your /stupid fucking hero complex/ and your shitty rapist friends.” His climbing tone is -- not really /helping/ the stares he tends to garner. "SHANE." Melinda turns her head when the swearing starts, her brows furrowed, back stiff. "Michael, please take over for me." She palms the card when she finishes ringing out Cage and starts Selene's order before drawing another deep breath and repeating it back to the barista who steps over to the register. "Coffee, black. Bagel. I don't know if she wants cream cheese or not." Michael looks to Selene for confirmation. "Toasted?" Mel strides around the counter and toward the group. "Here's your card, Mr. Cage. I'll have your food ready 'to go' in a minute or two, but I'm going to have to ask you not to bother my employees while they are working. They have a certain conduct they must maintain on the clock, which does not include resolving personal matters." Her tone is crisp and succinct, but her mind is upset. The poor kid's been through too much, but he can't be swearing while performing customer service. It's just not productive. Her gaze shifts to Shane, her lips pursing. "Head to the back. I'll talk to you in a few minutes, okay?" Luke winces at Shane's rebuke, but he isn't surprised in the least. In his mind, he even knows he deserves it, but he does a reasonable job of not letting that show on his face. Chelsea, on the other hand, looks openly distraught. Her mouth is slightly open, and moisture glistens at the corner of her eyes. "Wait, what the…" she starts, torn between Shane and Luke. Luke nods at Melinda's request and steps off to the side, scrubbing a hand over his bald head. "Yeah Mel, my bad. Totally. To-go makes sense." "What the /fuck/?" Chelsea is quiet, but insistent, while Luke tries to move them both off to one side. "It's complicated," he says, "I'll explain when we're in the car." His mind is a bog of sadness, while Chelsea's is awash with feeling betrayed and confused. This answer is clearly not good enough for her, but neither is she willing to further interrupt Shane in his work. She just mutters, "/Fuck/," and jams her hands into her pockets, brow furrowed. Her fear and confusion isn't far from bubbling over into anger soon. Selene’s losing interest in all of this, and as Michael asks if she wanted it toasted, she replies. “Just a plain bagel, thank you.” Her eyes (and mind) dart one last time over everyone involved, before she hands the money, giving a generous tip as she doesn’t care much about change. “Thank you.”. Selene’s jotting her eyes towards the tables and the door, deciding where to go once it’s ready. Shane’s teeth bare, his clawed fingers clenching tight against the carafe he holds. His gills flutter fast, and it is probably this as much as caution that makes him sign his hurried, ‘Sorry’, first to Chelsea and then to Melinda. His thoughts are racing, furious-angry. Memories of Trib looming over their table, of the cages at Fight Club. Thoughts of Jax locked in a similar cage somewhere far away, some prison guard (who looks remarkably Trib-like) looming over /him/. He signs another quick ‘sorry’ to Chelsea, bowing his head and /scurrying/ off for the back in silence, gills still wildly fluttering. Melinda takes a few deep breaths, her lips still pursed, her mood perturbed. She gives Luke a curt nod and smile, one of professional grade before she steps back and follows Shane into the back. Michael is tired of all this. Shane's a good employee, but he's kind of a pain in the ass and it's kind of like he invites this shit to happen. Why can't he stay in the back? Make the sandwiches, stop showing his face up front and making the customers hellish? He refocuses when the bill is handed to him and he finishes ringing Selene out, fishing out the change and looking up to find she's disinterested. After confirming with her that she doesn't want it, he slides it into the tip jar, tickled. Suuure, he could have pushed harder to give the lady back the tip, but so few people remember to tip on his cappuccinos, it's like the universe is finally balancing out. He quickly moves to the back and gets a mug and fills it with coffee. He plates a bagel and brings both to Selene before filling up two paper cups full of coffee for Chelsea and Cage. The sandwiches are going to take a little longer. Chelsea looks like she wants to chase Shane into the back, but refrains. Instead she just looks pissed, and remains with hands in pockets, until Luke hands her one of the coffee cups. She looks like she'll just toss it in the trash in a fit of anger, but then just resigns herself to drinking it black, out of spite. Luke sighs, adds the cream and sugar he likes, and just waits quietly, also bearing the stares and murmurs directed at him now. Before long, their sandwiches are ready. Luke takes the bag with a silent nod of thanks, and leads them both out to the car. Selene takes her coffee and bagel, choosing to head for the door, to-go. Liking it perfectly as it is, she heads for the exit, a grin building on her face. Delicious, delicious havoc. Selene liked it that way.