7 May 2015
<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 plentiful 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.
Early on a Thursday evening, there is no gathering club crowd to worry about yet. The largest segment of patrons seems to be people on their way home from work, judging by the choice of costumes. Micah is one of these, dressed simply in his usual TARDIS-blue polo shirt and khakis, olive newsboy cap pulled low for the brim to keep the sun out of his eyes, olive messenger bag thudding at his hip as he walks. He settles into the middling-length line, eyeing the day's offerings on the boards.
It's been awhile since Jack has been off campus but he's been feeling a little cabin feverish and since the stitches are out and he's feeling much better, the invisible teen has decided to venture into the city. In jeans, sneakers, and the lightest hoodie he could find, Jack's still feeling too warm as he enters Evolve. He takes his hood down as he approaches the line, jumping slightly when he spots Micah. He smiles invisibly though. "Hello," he greets, sounding in a better mood than he's been lately too.
The jump behind him in line is enough to have Micah glancing over his shoulder. “Apologies, I didn't mean t'startle you,” by...standing in line, apparently. He shifts a little so as to continue following the shuffle-forward of the line and be able to communicate with someone standing behind him. “How're y'holdin' up?”
Jack waves it off, chuckling a bit. "It's okay. I was zoning out a little," he admits. "I'm doing better than I was. No more stitches either. Had to get out for a little while though and I haven't been here in awhile so I came down," he replies. "Are things going okay for you?"
"S'all good things, healin' up. Term's gonna be over at the school soon enough, too." Micah slides forward in line again. "S'a good place t'start for comin' out t'the city, at least. Couple decent places over Westchester for the shorter jaunts." He gives a little nod at the question. "Better. Jax's been healin' up, too. The worst of the reporter mob's died down a bit. Still the odd few here an' there thinkin' they're gonna get some kinda scoop 'bout a terrible home life or somethin'. Not like it was, though."
"Yeah, summer's coming up. Feels like it already though," Jack replies, tugging his collar a little. "This place...I just like it. Feels safe..." he trails off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm glad to hear he's feeling better. No way to chase the reporters off?"
"Mmhm. Glad t'finally be free of the cold. Seemed like it was gonna keep snowin' forever this year." Speaking of the weather being warm, Micah reaches the front of the line and puts in an order for a good half dozen frozen drinks ranging from smoothies to iced chais to iced coffees. "Not really. I mean, y'can make noise 'bout 'em bein' on private property, but that just means they they go a little bit off an' be annoyin' from the street."
"Almost thought the same for a bit," Jack replies with a little laugh. "Makes me especially glad I ran into you and Peter when I did that night," Jack admits. The big order gets Jack tilting his head to the side but it does give him an idea of what to order himself. "Street's better than right at the door at least," he shrugs. "Guess there's just hoping they get bored or something else happens to get their attention and they go chasing after it."
Micah gives a little nod at that. “I imagine seems even longer when you're out in it. Fortunately weren't too bad a winter the year I was livin' in m'van up here. Even that, still had the van part.” He exchanges papers and signatures and credit card in the usual way, along with brief niceties with the barista, before shifting over toward the pick-up counter. “Thought it'd be nice t'break in the warmer weather with some cold drinks. Offer 'round t'folks back home an' got quite a few nibbles this time.”
"Longer...is probably way more polite than what I would have said," Jack admits sheepishly. "A van is definitely an improvement," he adds quietly. He waits patiently for his turn at the counter and orders an iced coffee when it's time to do so. It might be a little surprising when he pulls out some bills to pay for the drink with but he still pays. He offers an unseen smile to Micah's explanation. "Do you want a hand carrying them back?" he offers.
“Hm, yeah. I got choice words for winter weather when I'm havin' trouble stayin' up even with m'crutches. Well, mostly the real choice ones're just in m'head,” Micah returns with a little self-deprecating grin. “Should be fine. They put 'em in those little drink caddy carry tray...things. That prob'ly have some kinda term for 'em that I don't know. S'got a handle an' everythin'.” Said drink carrier does appear on the counter, different coloured cups slowly filling the compartments on it.
"Nicer than I've been. I've cursed out a snowstorm or two. Not that it did anything other than get me a sore throat," Jack replies. "I don't know the term either if there is one," he says with a curious hum. "Okay though."
“Well...s'just I usually end up comin' out with silly nonsense rather'n regular cursin' is all. Hard-wired now.” Micah gathers the filled tray to him with a nod and smile of thanks . “Screamin' into the wind, like they say, huh.” He hefts the tray, cups already starting to bead condensation. “Should be gettin' these back. If they melt, I'll never hear the end from Spence 'bout how I shoulda let 'im teleport 'em home on account of how that's so much faster'n more efficient.”
"Yeah. Just a few times I lost my temper at...the whole situation back then," Jack says with a little sigh. He shakes it off though, nodding. "Yeah, melted drinks usually don't taste too good," he chuckles. "Have a good night."
Micah gives a wave with his free hand as he totes his tray of drinks out. “You, too. Don't stay out too late on a school night.” The last advice is given with a hint of a playful tone.
Jack laughs again. "Yessir, Professor," he chimes in reply. He waves with his empty sleeve and turns to pick up his drink as it arrives. A little thanks for the barista and Jack heads to find a place to sit and enjoy the iced coffee.