ArchivedLogs:March Showers

March Showers
And Jayna flowers.
Dramatis Personae Hanna, Jim, Micah, Jayna
In Absentia	2 March 2014 So none of us listened to the saying, whatever... >_>
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. The day is drawing to a close, and the sun has already sunk below the skyline, bathing the buildings in a warm orange glow. Happy Cakes has recovered well, following the apocalyptic events that closed out the previous year, thick, possibly bulletproof glass having replaced the windows broken in the chaos. The sign on the door still declares that the place is "Open" - announced by a cheery little smiling cupcake in the bright pink and yellow that have become the staple colors of the decor. Late in the day as it is, there is only a single customer, quietly sipping coffee at one of the tables far away from the window, keeping largely to himself. Hanna is out from behind the counter, bouncing along in time to the music as she polishes the glass cases largely emptied of their goods for the day; even depleted by a full day of business, there's still a fair selection of pastries to peruse. She wears a bright orchid swing dress, belted at her waist with a white sash that matches the little white bow around the braided bun she keeps her hair swept up in to. Jayna sits quietly behind the counter, her back to the door while she focuses on sorting through receipts for the day; the dark skinned woman is bundled up in a long sleeved sweater dress in a rich emerald color, paired with thick leggings. For the first time in months, the barista actually has her head bare, showing off the spring green buds of new growth just beginning to emerge after the long winter. Hanna glances back towards the door on occasion, making sure she hasn't missed anyone coming in to the shop, before moving on to the next case to be cleaned of the days fingerprints. Jim probably called, earlier in the day. He also probably was gruff and short about it, asking if today was a good time to swing by, gave a time and is now characteristically /late/ regardless. Probably his call sent to Micah was on the same level of awkward-growling, and then the wait. For this time. This place. He shoulders through the door after mixing up 'push' with 'pull', and doesn't have the wherewithall to make even a stab at embarrassment, scrubbing a hand up the back of his neck with a toothpick gripped in his teeth. Eyeing the place like he's not sure it horrifies him or /impresses/ him. He wears a tatty tweed coat over a green-gray button up shirt, a camera hanging around his neck, a pair of sunglasses pushed back on his head to keep his overgrown and grizzling hair back from his face. For the time being, the worst of his plantish features are subdued, his flesh dry and flaky, only a faint scent of cedar and a few suspicous plant needles poking out from behind his ears, from the joints of his elbows. His attunement to plant energy might have make a hum of resonance with Jayna, earning a double-take glance in her direction beneath his furrowed brows. "Yo." Jim comes to a stop behind Hanna, voice gravel-scratchy and flat. "So this is the place, huh?" By now, it's a little famous, isn't it. Micah may be a little early for the meeting, seeing as he was told to come at closing and he's arriving while the shop still has a customer in it, after all. He is weekend-casual, outdoor layers of green-brown newsboy cap, green gradient gloves, olive coat, and hiking boots over his Batsignal hoodie, a black T-shirt with an Impressionist interpretation of Serenity flying through a Starry Night inspired sky on its front, and well-patched bluejeans. His usual out-and-about messenger bag hangs from a strap crosswise over his torso, thudding slightly against his right hip as he walks. He makes his way straight to the counter, smiling at the brightly-dressed women behind it. “Evenin',” he greets the pair with a wave. “How y'all manage t'look so pretty-an'-put-together by the /end/ of a work day's beyond me. Hope it means the day was pleasant, too.” Jim also gets a small wave as he trundles in, Micah's head nodding slightly in the older man's direction. “Hi, Jim, good t'see you.” He's briefly distracted by peering over the counter, expression apologetic before he even asks his question. “Would it throw a monkey wrench in your process if I were t'buy a half dozen whatever vegan cupcakes y'got left, t'go? Can't come to a bakery what has /good/ vegan sweets an' not bring somethin' home for Jax.” Hanna is just finishing up with the case she was working on when Jim addresses her, though Jayna has already been staring at him with mild confusion since he walked in the door, her green eyes narrowing at the older man. The dryad-mutant does not actually address him, just sort of watches him for a moment before going back to what she had been doing at the counter, apparently not very talkative this evening. Hanna straightens up and bounces around to face him with far too much energy for a middle aged woman this late on a weekend, a cheery smile on her full lips. "Hello! You must be Jim, yes?" she greets, her eyes taking on a warm golden-brown color as she speaks. Tossing the cleaning cloth behind the counter with practiced ease - it hits the laundry hamper she was aiming for with a soft /swish/ - she turns her attention to Micah, smiling even brighter, if possible. "Micah!" she chirps and waves, a blush rising to her cheeks and coloring the edges of her irises a faint pink, "Oh, thank you sweetie. Trick of it is I wear an apron most of the day. The rest is years of practice." Chuckling heartily, she ducks behind the counter, addressing both men, "Can I get anything for either of you? Coffee, tea, water? I've got a tray of pastries in the back that doubles as snack and tasting sampler, if you'd like. Or do we just want to get to the discussing?" "Jim, yeah. Jim Morgan. Long overdue, we ran into each other. Was it Hanna - Aakala?." Did he look that up in the phonebook? Jim is holding the toothpick in front of his mouth with a thumb and forefinger so that when his lips move, it remains right where it is. "Mel talks fond of you. Uh - coffee's good, thanks. Black?" And hopefully free? He doesn't /ask/ but the almost child-like hope that raises his brows inquires? He waves toothpick Micah's direction - it's a h'lo wave /and/ a by-your-leave, "Hey, I got time. Serve 'em up, business is business. How you doin, Mikey?" After a last narrowed study of Jayna's back, he turns to go roaming. Explore the joint. “Two points for Hanna!” Micah declares with an amused chuckle as the cloth sails into the laundry hamper. The palest hint of colour tinges his own cheeks in answer to the woman's blush. “Oh gracious, I don't know as I'm capable of turnin' down offers of baked goods anymore. Don't see how it'd interrupt us talkin' t'snack on a thing or two while we're doin' so. Coffee sounds delightful if it's gettin' started. Thank you for hostessin', by the by.” Micah's hand moves to his pocket, tapping over his wallet when Jim orders his drink, in time with a nod to Hanna indicating that he's got it covered. “I'm good, thanks. Things goin' well for you since...I guess Mel's birthday was last I saw you?” Hanna peeks up over the glass case, where she had started to load up a cheery little striped box with the requested vegan cupcakes, offering a smile to Jim, "Well, pleasure to meet you at last." The use of her last name gets a chuckle and a head shake, "If you want to get formal about it, it's Kohanna Aakala," the name rolls off her tongue with a practiced ease, her Hawaiian accent obvious for the first time in a long time, "But just Hanna is plenty fine." She grins and shrugs, setting the box of vegan cupcakes down on the counter for Micah, "No rush - I'll ring stuff up when we're done." The contents are visible through the clear window in the top - chocolate raspberry, fluffy lemon cake with blueberries and cream icing, and a spicy cinnamon cake with a gooey caramel center. "I'll be back in just a tick with the tray of goodies. Jayna'll get your drinks going for you," Hanna says, and bounces into the back through shining chrome doors. At the request for coffee, Jayna is already up and moving with a decided ease through the motions of preparing the drinks. Fresh ground beans go into a grinder, and then into a French press, filling the air with a rich, inviting smell of coffee. A study of her back, still to the back of them, reveals a narrow band of bark-like whorls on her skin, just between her hairline and the collar of her dress, extending around behind her ears toward her temples. While the coffee is brewing, she leans against the counter in front of her grand espresso machine, and nods towards the tables, smiling softly, "You can sit if you'd like. I'll bring your coffees over in a minute, and Hanna'll be over with the treats about the same time." "Kohanna," Jim, for a single moment, shifts up a slight smile, and offers after a moment of thought, "James. If you wanna get formal." The fade fades off when she moves on, and he lowers his head to scrub at the back of his neck again. It makes a bristly fingers-through-pine leaves sound, his skin growing coarser and darker, the dry-flaky curling away and shifting ruddier. Getting comfortable while he's indoors. The cedar-smell remains. "What d'you think," he murmurs low to Micah, in this moment of quiet. "I'm turning the Bronx inside out looking for Anole," his blue eyes, starkly blue where the flesh around it is partially plant, slide to the side, in the other man's direction, "...You shoulda told us sooner, man. When you found out about him. We been uh," hard to tell in his low rasp if he's angry or just - relieved. Angryrelieved. Aggrieved. "--worried. Downstairs." His head dips a little lower, "--thanks." For paying for his COFFEE btw. The toothpick swivels to the left when Jayna swings nearer, eyes squinching into crows feet as he meets her eyes. Plants tend to thrive, in his presence. Noticeably, rapidly. Maybe he's trying to see if this happens with her as well, "'ppreciate it." And then swings away from the counter to go hunt up a seat. “Ohwow, that's pretty. Like...fantasy novel pretty,” Micah replies thoughtfully of Hanna's full name. “Can't say's I've ever heard a body call y'James before, though.” His hand moves away from his pocket when Hanna says he should pay later. He lowers his voice to match Jim's tone. “'Pologies, I didn't think... We just ain't got as many clues from his magic drawin' as the others. Horus's led us straight to 'im. Matt's at least gave us some things t'look up. Anole's has been...frustratin'. Thanks for...lookin', though. A start's a start one way or another.” With a little smile and nod and a soft thanks to Jayna, he moves over to the tables indicated to wait with Jim until Hanna emerges into the front of the shop once more. With Hanna in the back, Jayna is left to tend to the coffee, idly waiting for the little coffee cup shaped timer to signal that it was time to pour. In the mean time, she engages in a bit of a staring contest with Jim, leaf green eyes defiant as she stares at the older man. She seems a bit more energetic in her mannerisms the longer Jim is there, her skin actually taking on a richer, warmer color as opposed to the ashen dryness it had started at. As the timer goes off with a cheery little tune, she jumps, making a tiny yelp - at the same time, as she goes about pressing the plunger on the coffee and pouring it into two large China-patterned mugs, the mossy green covering on her head appears to be transforming itself. In a manner that would almost call for ‘pop’ sound effects, tiny white flowers burst forth in a wave, beginning at the back of her neck and eventually overtaking her entire scalp with a mass of fluffy white flowers. Looking over her shoulder, Jayna narrows her eyes pointedly at Jim. Bringing the coffee over to the table, she leans down and whispers in a soft growl to him as she sets his coffee down, “If I find out that was intentional, I’m giving you decaf next time.” Her expression is a brilliant white smile to Micah as she delivers his coffee, though, “Here you go Micah. Cream and sugar are on the counter, but we’ve got non-dairy options in the back as well, just give a yell and I’ll bring it over. Excuse me.” With one final ‘I’m watching you’ look towards Jim, she turns on her heel - the fluff of flowers bouncing with each step - and heads for the back, passing Hanna as the other woman comes out from the back, bearing a large tray stacked with a whole host of sweets. “Oh dear,” Hanna chuckles, managing to suppress her smirking laughter until Jayna is out of earshot, carefully setting the tray down in the middle and glancing back towards the kitchens, “Right. You’re a bit planty, Mel mentioned. Jayna sort of reacts that way to people who interact with plants. She’ll be fine. Just… right. Anyway.” She pulls up a chair, completely oblivious to the darker conversation that had happened while she was in the back, sitting demurely at the table. “On to that whole ‘planning’ thing we wanted to do,” Hanna starts, offering a smile as she looks between the other two, before selecting a cookie off the tray, “Thoughts on whenabouts we want to do have this shindig?” "That kid's one of ours," Jim murmurs, frowning when Micah thanks him for looking, "We take care of our own." Which is about all the conversation has time for, before coffee is arriving. Jim stares right /back/ at Jayna under his heavy brows, faded blue against spring green, and he keeps locked on until Hanna arrives. "I'd be pissed, too," he admits, though curling a protective hand curled around his coffee, pulling it towards himself. "Never met another houseplant before." Whew, okay actual meat of this meeting is brought to hand, "Sooner's better." He tucks his toothpick into an inner pocket of his jacket to free up his face for cookies. Though he hunts through them like their existence is a little offensive before selecting ONE to be his own. "She's due in two months - /tops/. And I dunno, she ain't sayin' it but," he pulls back the side of his mouth and bites into his cookie, talks with a full mouth, "she's pretty well freakin the fuck out." “Just 'cause y'were gonna do it anyway don't mean I'm not grateful, regardless. Anole's close with m'boys an' I'd been...tryin' t'be there for 'im in a way since Nox... It just. It means somethin' t'me that you're lookin', so thank you.” Micah blushes down at his hands, off-balance enough that he doesn't manage to completely suppress a soft, “Oh, wow,” hazel eyes widening at the sudden floral awakening that Jayna experiences. “That's...lovely, thank you.” His cheeks tinge brighter red, the colour creeping up into his ears. “I can...use the regular creamer, no need t'trouble yourselves.” He busies himself with obtaining the splash of creamer and slightly larger dose of sugar before settling back in with Jim and Hanna. “Apologies if I...didn't mean t'embarrass her if she's self-conscious. Was just real...sudden an' pretty.” Micah selects his own cookie to nibble at between speaking. “By 'sooner' are we meanin' like...this weekend? Mel conveniently kinda provided a list of people she might want t'come with that e-mail announcement of hers. D'you know her schedule at all t'know when she's free, Jim?” Nibble nibble, tiny coffee-sip. “I'd usually offer our place, but... Shane's been. The whole baby thing. It hasn't been sittin' well with 'im, so I wouldn't feel right. I'm sure Jax'n I can cook some things for it, though.” Hanna shakes her head, “Nah, she’s not offended, she’s just had this happen a bit more often since moving to New York. Handful of people ‘round here that have that effect. She only just started getting buds back - it’s a bit early. But, anyway.” She trails off and turns back to the task and hand, nodding, “Right. That’s really not much time to do this. I’d say this weekend would be best, just so that we can make sure she gets all she needs /before/ the little bundle of joy arrives. And hopefully help out with that freakin’ out feeling she’s got right now.” Jayna emerges from the back, her head now bundled up in a brilliant blue-green wrap that does well to hide the fluff of white flowers, and keep them out of the baked goods, continuing what she was doing with counting receipts. Hanna nibbles idly at the edges of her cookie, looking thoughtful, “Too cold for the rooftop. Not sure how many there would be, or I’d offer our apartment as an option. Just the two of us for now.” She pauses, thinking and looking around, “Or here. I’m not averse to closing for a few hours, but I know this place is not exactly tops on some people’s list of favorite places. But we’ve got a big kitchen for a prep area, fridge big enough to store stuff in advance.” Finishing off her cookie, Hanna ponders, “I’m not averse to providing pastries, too. I just can’t cook for anything. Savory isn’t my cup of tea.” "Yeah." Jim breaths out through his teeth, "Since Nox." His smile is hard, protected, "--think she was the only person that's called me James since I was--" He glances at Micah, "Well, a buck younger than you. Suited her, somehow." There is no long pause, no wistful sigh - but there's a dry socket in this moment between one topic to the next where maybe there would have been with another person. He's just plunging on, without shifting tone. "Yeah, I can get you her times - I've been getting her to her appointments. And there's a lotta them, lately. Weekends'd be better. /This/ weekend, even better. She could use some good fucking news." His coffee, taken black, is a few far shades better quality than his usual fare, and he looks into his cup like it bit him after the first sip. And delivers a second slurp to confirm the experience. And moves on to cookie, "If it were me, I'd say the Loft. No offense t'your business, miss lady Kohanna," wry smirk, "but after all that business with Ian-- Well." He shrugs. "Don't think we'd be expecting too huge a party…" He's studying Hanna, her color-varying eyes, with a quintessentially frank measuring. "--would y'mind puttin it up are your pad? Not a lot of places safer than the Lofts." Micah nods slowly, staring down into the dark (though slightly lighter now) depths of his coffee for a moment with the talk of Nox. After a beat he seems to deliberately toss some 'chipper' back in his babbling. “Well, if it's gonna be small enough...shouldn't be too hard t'get folks t'gether, 'less they got other plans made already. An' it won't be /too/ much cookin'. If Hanna an' Jax split the bakin', I can do the regular cookin' an' y'all can /thank/ me for not bakin' for y'later,” Micah declares with a lopsided grin. “Um...s'far as party things, would anybody object t'/not/ doin' the horrible party games? Maybe just gettin' a pile of plain white baby clothes t'decorate with fabric pens? Could do onesies an' bibs an' shirts an' diaper covers an' such. That'll be fun /an'/ functional for Mel an' the little one. Get an assortment of sizes t'help last a while.” He finishes off his cookie and drums his fingers against the side of his coffee mug. “I'm assumin' we're goin' co-ed on this based on who's plannin', too...but figured I should /check/.” Hanna nods solemnly, her eyes taking on a duller brown shade, at the mention of Ian, “Understood. Just wanted to offer it as an option. But my apartment should be big enough to hold as many people as needed. Just may need to commandeer some fridge space elsewhere.” She snags another pastry from the tray, watching Jim’s reaction to the coffee, mood-ring eyes sparking with gold again, a note of pride in her voice, “Jayna roasts the beans herself. She can’t drink the stuff, but she does wonders with it anyway.” Jayna looks up at this, offering an amused smirk before going back to her sorting. Smirking, Hanna nods to Micah, “You can thank me for not cooking. I can make great sandwiches, but most everything else involves spam and rice. Don’t ask.” She shakes her head, “Oh, I like the onesies idea, that’s adorable. Maybe some stencils and stuff to make drawing on them easier for everyone. Can never have too many simple little things like that.” Hanna leans back in her chair, nibbling idly on the pastry, “I’d say skip the ridiculous shower games. Those things can get terrifying. And of course co-ed. Would be sorta silly otherwise.” "Can't drink it? Ever?" Though studying Hanna's eyes, puzzling over what triggers their shift in color perchance, Jim shortly is looking back at Jayna with his eyebrows hiked up, "Talk about Midas touch." He tips his cup towards Jayna with a touch of /respect/. "Uaaagh, I don't know the first god damn thing about this kind of shit - had an ex-wife that uh." He sweeps his depleted cookie through the last half of /that/ statement. "So this halfs on you all." Save that he looks, beneath the treebark and clenched jaw, relieved at the idea of nixing out baby shower /tomfoolery/ - instead is fixing a tempted look aimed at the side of Hanna's head. Because it's Jim, and really, if you tell him not to ask, he'll probably-, "Spam 'n rice?" “We can prob'ly steal fridge space at Dusk's. Ain't like they keep a well-stocked larder over there anyhow. I'll ask, though. An' pick up the baby clothes an' art stuff. Jax'll prob'ly have the best recommendations on stencils an' all. The two of you should work out what you're bakin'. I'll work out with 'im what's bein' not-baked. Um... So all that's left is gettin' Mel's schedule so we know the when factor, an' makin' sure the folks that need invitin' are invited an' know Mel's registries, then? Not bad for one conversation of last minute plannin'.” Micah shrugs with a contented smile, lifting his coffee for a deeper pull now that it has cooled. “Oh, that's right. For some reason I think I read somethin' about Spam bein' weirdly popular in Hawaii. Can't for the life of me come up with the /why/ part, though.” “Never. Allergic to caffeine,” Jayna offers to Jim from behind the counter, crinkling her nose as she explains, “Side effect of my mutation, as far as I can tell.” She sounds somewhat grumpy about it, but grins at the compliment, “Glad you can appreciate it, though.” The barista doesn’t have much else to offer to the conversation, though. “It’s been years since I was involved in this sort of planning outside of helping pick cake designs. Should be interesting,” Hanna nods, “I’ll send him an e-mail to coordinate baked goods. Thoughts on individual cupcakes versus a whole cake? Or both… ah, I think this group goes through sweets nearly as quickly as I do.” She nods in agreement with Micah, “Alright. So we’ll get her schedule, get a time set for this - I suppose we can tell people to keep weekend options open, if possible? Get the detailed time to everyone in the next day or two. Anything else we need to get decided on tonight?” She thinks for a moment, artfully ignoring Jim’s stare, “World War II. Spam got sent to the military bases. It eked into the local cuisine. Or oozed. Either way, there is spam in everything.” "Sounds like my kinda place," Jim's grin is pretty rough, like it's made out of nails and burnt matches. Still manages to be pleased. Rocking back in his chair, he pulls out his phone, where his scheduler has been haphazardly and been kept updated. "Alright. Let's talk schedules."