ArchivedLogs:In Which Coffee Is Made And Assistance Is Offered
| In Which Coffee Is Made And Assistance Is Offered | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2017-08-11 "I think I'm officially an A-Lister." |
| 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. It's a warm afternoon in New York, which means Allison is wearing a pair of snug denim shirts and a baby blue shirt that cuts off just above her navel. She had just popped into Evolve, hearing a few cheers from a couple of the customers, and even pauses to sign a few shirts and MP3 players. She is all grins as she passes out a couple of hugs before making her way through the line to order a sandwich full of delicious. Despite the attention, she is all nervous smiles, as if the energy is overwhelming to her.
There is a shrug of Allison's shoulders. "You shoulda seen the shit I had before I came out of my mutant closet. I was too fast, I was too skinny, I was too blonde, my voice is like a dying poodle." She grins at him as her eyes level at his shirt for a moment. "My singles sales just went through the roof. Peaked at number one on iTunes for the rest of the night. That was crazy. Got about a hundred thousand more followers on Twitter. Taylor Swift reached out to me and gave me some virtual hugs. Got a few death threats also. I think I'm officially an A-Lister." Evidentally trying to escape as much notice as possible, Paige slips in through the door after Allison's well-received entrance. A singular thought is on her mind as she makes her way to the counter - a strong desire for coffee. Indeed, quite pre-occuppied is she that she almost bumps right into the celebrity from behind. Seeing Taylor at the counter instills a relief in her thoughts, for she knows she likely doesn't even have to speak aloud. Still, she opens her mouth to place her order, but then seems to notice Allison for the first time, ears flicking upwards. "Oh. /Oh/! You -- Allison -- you -- you know, you told people about the -- a, uh, coffee, please?" This, directed at the barista on duty with an almost pleading-look. "About the thing." The goatish mutant appears to be slightly tired. Allison's explanation curls Taylor's smile just a little wider -- just a little /smoother/, bright and practiced. "Taylor Swift, huh? That's pretty neat." His voice is conversationally light, now; a bit crisper in pronunciation than a moment before, a bit more select in his diction. "I'm glad you're finding support now, at least. I hope it goes -- as smoothly as it can." The telepath is just ringing Allison up, waiting for her payment, when Paige arrives. The lift of his chin is quick, easy. "I'll get that out for you in a moment. Just black? You look beat, you alright?" There's a shifting -- a /writhing/, serpentine and undulating -- beneath his shirt, just a moment before several long black tentacley arms worm their way out from it, uncoiling to grab a cup, measure coffee beans. "Yeah, I toured with her last year for a few shows. She always keeps in touch with most of her bands. She's so cool." Allison beams as she gives a glance over her shoulder to Paige. "Hey! Yeah. I uh... I did. Because of you actually." She says. "Can I get a selfie with you for my Instagram?" As Taylor's tentacles slip out from beneath his shirt, she blinks a bit, staring openly at him as her eyes dart from one wiggling arm to the other. "... wow." "Black, yeah," comes the horned girl's response to Taylor's question. "/Much/ appreciated." She hesitates before adding, thoughts sluggish, "I don't know how much I slept. After what happened with Jax's case, some of us went out to have a drink. Last night. Because Wednesday was harrowing enough, right? But, like, maybe I had a /little/ too much to drink and I, uh, had the /brilliant/ idea to -- to call my parents. Or --" At this point, the furred mutant lifts a hand to rub at her eyes while doing her best to stifle a yawn. "-- /try/ to call them. I don't know. I don't really remember. I think my brother answered and then blocked my number. It looks like I tried to call them again two dozens times or something." Paige's ears twitch and she blinks vacantly at Allison while the pop-star talks. << Came out because of Taylor? But why is she looking at me? >> Then Allison's attention shifts. << Oh good. >> Another moment passes while she stands in silence. "Oh! What? Me? /Why/?"
"Well, when she got attacked by those guys that I helped chase off, it just really opened my eyes to what mutants that doesn't exactly look like me go through. It's terrible that jerks would actually go out of their way to try and beat up someone just because of what they look like, or for what they were. I guess I decided that I was tired of hiding and that maybe I can use my status as a way of influencing younger generations to move past all that fear and hate. I have a wide audience, a very liberal audience at that." Allison says as she gives Paige a playful shoulder bump. "And I consider you a real friend. I don't want to just post pictures of me hanging out with doofuses from One Direction. I want people to know who I /actually/ care about." She gives her a bashful grin. "And if this tanks my career or puts me at odds with my father, then so be it. I'm not going to hide who I am anymore and I'm proud to be what I am and who I am and I want my friends to know I support them as well." There's a very slight mental resistance, a tiny pushing back, that melts easily away at Taylor's message into Paige's mind and the young woman nods minimally. "Thank you, but there's no need to apologize; it's my own doing." The aroma of the coffee beans seems to be perking her mind up. Allison's words, however, produce a different response. The goat girl winces at the memory of the brief attack, her ears pressing down. "Y-yeah, somehow I don't really ... I'm glad, I guess, that it gave you the courage and the, uh, you know, understanding about why it's important?" She bites her lip nervously. << A picture with a celebrity /could/ be useful. Think about career opportunities. But I have enough trouble as it is just living down the street, do I really want more? >> "N-no thanks. The picture - no thanks. I don't really want to be on Instagram." She offers a soft, weary smile to Allison. "So, uh, Taylor," she turns to face the barista more openly. "What's the ... plan now that you're out of high school?"
"We could all just use a bit more love these days." Allison says as she leans against the counter, dropping the picture conversation for now as she glances between the pair of them. "So, you write rap music?" She asks curiously to Taylor as she gives him a warm smile. "I could always look at your stuff if you want and see about putting some of it to music. I have a bunch of software on my macbook that I use to work on my own songs. Logic and Fruity Loops. I think it'd be a fun afternoon." "/Thank you/." Paige's gratitude comes not only through her words and tone of voice, but also through the sense of appreciation resounding in her mind, as she accepts the proffered coffee and produces the correct amount of payment. "You /do/ make great coffee," she admits, breathing in the aroma before taking a very careful sip. She still looks rather tired and inclines her head. "I think I am going to find a place to sit down and maybe rest my head." As she turns, she glances out the windows and then does a double-take. "It's not ... it's not morning." With a deep breath, she sighs out, "Oh well." << You are a magnificent savior >> is actually directed to Taylor as she bids farewell to the two in search of a seat. "Well, find out when you got a day off and maybe we can hang out sometime, hit up a park or snag dinner." Allison says with a smile, then gives a wave back to him as she heads to find a seat to eat her sandwich, and most likely be hit up by a few more fans for some Q&A and a couple of autographs. | |
