ArchivedLogs:In Which There Is Some Excitement At Evolve, Non-Catastrophically So (Except Perhaps For The Kitchen Floor)

In Which There Is Some Excitement At Evolve, Non-Catastrophically So (Except Perhaps For The Kitchen Floor)
Dramatis Personae Rasa, Taylor
In Absentia	2017-01-15 "Hey!"
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. Splish. Splish splish splish. Splliiish. Probably Taylor should be doing dishes. There is a /stack/ of dishes soaking in sudsy hot water by the pair of enormous deep steel sinks back here. He's clearly done quite a lot of them already -- plenty are shiny clean and recently put to dry on the large racks to the /other/ side of the sinks -- but at the moment he's leaning up against the side of the sink instead. Staring at the running water, the tips of two slim arms flicking absently at it. Splish-splish-splish. Rasa is carrying a bussing tray in hir arms, filled with mugs and plates from the collection point. Ze is making hir way carefully over to the large sinks, hir movements deliberate and slow. Ze lifts the tray a little higher to place the plastic bin on the dirty side of the counter, pausing to scratch at hir nose - something ze couldn't do when hir hands are full. During this short break, ze notices hir coworker and friend just sort of staring off into space... or, rather, the stream of water. Hir grayish brow wrinkles up more as hir eyelids squint around black irises. Ze considers walking away for a moment, but then lifts a gloved hand to gently reach out for Taylor's shoulder. "Hey..." Splish-splish-splish. Splash! Taylor's flicking diverts. Tiny droplets of water now swiped from the faucet stream to taptaptap out in Rasa's direction. There's a small uptick at the corner of Taylor's mouth. "Hey!" Rasa's tone shifts quickly to mock indignation, rapidly leaning forward to stick hir other hand under the stream to splash it back in Taylor's face, a little less careful to only jettison drops in his direction. Taylor's teeth flash, bright white in a stark contrast to the inky blackness of his skin. He turns his head quickly, catching most of the water full against his cheek. His next swipe is faster, fuller, a flex of rubbery limb splooshing warm water up rapidly at Rasa's greyish face. Rasa gasps noisily as ze lifts hir arms to shield hir face, hir face still getting wet - but now with the added fun of wet sleeves. There's a little bit more sputtering of frustration before hir hands reach out for the hose attachment to the sink, turning that on hir friend next. "Fffftth." Now several of Taylor's arms lift, flailing kind of ineffectually. /Kind of/ ineffectually -- they don't succeed at all, really, in protecting him from the water's spray. They /do/ succeed wildly in splattering water just about /everywhere/. Onto the floors, the walls, the pile of dishes waiting to be washed, the countertops. There's a warm wash of amusement that fluttters out from him, bright and exuberant. Rasa leans back against the sink as ze starts to get sprayed with the back lash Taylor is creating. Ze laughs as ze puts an arm between hir eyes and the water, continuing to spray him down. The telepathic overspray bolsters hir mood further, flooding hir skin with pinks and yellows, hir skin tightening into one of hir more familiar forms. There's still a gray tinge to hir flushes, but bright gold eyes seem to have forgotten about that for now. The oppressive tight knot of emotion also slinks out of sight under the laughter. Flail! /Flail/! Splash! -- though in a sudden burst of inspiration (and burst of laughter), Taylor finally hits on a /successful/ plan. One arm reaches out and around, not bothering with trying to fend /off/ the water. Just stretching to -- shut off the tap. He slumps against the side of the counter, shoulders still shaking with heavy breaths of laughter. Rasa looks a little dejected when hir water hose goes limp and stops showering Taylor with warm water. Ze can only manage the expression for a moment before ze gets caught up in laughter again, falling into it once again when ze watches Taylor succumb. Ze reaches a hand up, still leaning against the lip of the sink, and wipes away some of the water from hir face, and some tears of mirth from hir eyes. Several of Taylor's arms droop down into the sink, the rest hanging limply at his side and dripping water down onto the... already puddly-wet floor. He runs a hand across his head, slicking water down off his scalp. "Sunday nights get fucking. Never-ending." It's not an /apology/ really, breathless and amused while he turns back to the dishes he Really Should Have Been Doing. It just -- is what it is. "Sunday?" Rasa's smile slowly relaxes as ze watches the now drenched Taylor slowly return to his task of the evening. Ze shifts hir weight on hir feet to lean a little closer. "Well. Nothing like a good splash of water to the face to wake you out of the dulldrums." Ze presses the palms of hir hands against the edge of the sink. Once upright, ze turns to face the sink and nudges Taylor with hir shoulder. Ze starts pulling dishes out of the bin ze brought in and starts scrubbing them to help out. Taylor chuckles at that. He wipes his (damp) face against the shoulder of his (damp) tee shirt, and gathers dishes up out of where they've been soaking to make room in the bin for Rasa's newly scrubbed ones. "S'the kind of excitement I /like/ around here. For damn sure."