2012 05 13 Poe And Hot Drinks

Log Title:
Poe and Hot Drinks

Characters:
Armand, Phantasm

IC Date:
13 May 2012

Location:
Daily Grind

Brief Log Summary::
Mike enjoys a coffee that doesn't involve getting attacked over. Armand's a bit jumpy.

Rating:
pg

There is no TS in this log::
Yes

Post your log::

-==[ Daily Grind - Upper West Side ]==--------

As soon as one enters via the lage glass door, they can catch the scent of any of a dozen coffee flavors in the air. There are usually two or three servers on duty, ready to whip up any of the coffees on the large menu that hangs over their heads. A rope-lined queue snakes from the counter in a flattened S. Couches and tables line the walls, the tables fitting four each, though there are large tables near the back of the establishment. The tiled floor has tables that fit anywhere from two people to six.

Near the counter is a rack of old magazines and books that people can peruse while they're there, and for a small fee patrons can hook up a laptop to the wireless network and access the internet. Overall, it's the kind of place where people can go and buy a cup of coffee and be left alone if they choose, or not. The Daily Grind has the sort of atmosphere that allows for groups of people to come together, or for one or two people to relax by themselves. Like any good coffee house, it allows for most forms of relaxation.

Ah Sunday. A day of rest for many. A day of worship as well. But upon the morning services cutting out, that's when things are not quite as restful for the Daily Grind staff. Sure enough, a sizable number of nearby congregation members fail to have this thing called breakfast until after their morning services are out, giving them the excuse to wander in to places that serve such breakfasty items that can be featured in the meal known as brunch. Suffice to say, the Daily Grind is packed leading to seats being a valuable commodity. Despite this, Mike is taking his time at the table he's claimed off to the corner. Reading a rather worn copy of Edgar Allan Poe's collection of stories and poems, his half drunk coffee and half eaten bagel signifies that he has plenty of time remaning in the shop. And no amount of glares from the incoming church-folk is going to change that. As for his attire, it is a bit dressier than usual. His usual black tee has been traded for a deep red dress shirt while he also sports black dress pants but although his hair is pulled back, it is still mostly hidden under a knit cap.

What do you do at the end of the day? You go…for coffee. Sometimes. This late afternoon finds Armand pushing open the door and he is holding a special five dollar bill as his free hand holds his cinnamon red colored knitcap on and a roll of his shoulder secures his golden backpack. He's quiet though as he makes his way to the counter, his hair sporting cinnamon colored streaks for once as he looks thoughtful.

Mike flips a page on his book, and glances up, one hand holding the book open while the other reaches over for his coffee. In this moment of looking away from his source of entertainment, he catches a glimpse of Armand entering the shop. "Really REALLY small world." he murmurs, picking up the cup to bring it to his lips.

Fortunately for Armand, although the shop is crowded. He's timed his entrance just right between the waves of bible thumpers which grants him a view of the counter rather immediately.

Armand lifts a hand to wave in Mike's direction when he catches a glimpse of the familiar face, turning his attention to make his order…some sorts of scone and a small cup of green tea as he hmms softly to himself and cranes his neck a bit, looking around at all the collected people, watching them with a critical eye.

As Armand waits for his order, it becomes rather clear that there are few seats available, and all of them are at already occupied tables. As for Mike, he lifts the book in a semi-movement of acknowledgement, sips his coffee and then goes back to reading. Ah Poe. What fun reading you provide!

Armand fidgets a bit as he searches for a potential place to sit down and he sighs softly, taking time to pay for his order and then he looks down and then looks back up towards Mike uncertainly approaching his table with his scone and his cup of tea, worrying his bottom lip. "Um…e-excuse me, Monsieur Mike can I…join you? I promise not to disturb you and your depressing ah…it seems to be Poe, with the black bird type stuff and people in walls…just need to sit…"

Mike's eyes glance up at Armand before he nods towards one of the seats at his table, "Sure. Have at it." The book lowers, finger threading between the pages as the book closes. The musician reaches over to pick up his bagel, "Enjoy the veal?" He takes a bite out of the bagel.

Armand settles down at the table, setting the cup down and the scone as well before taking a deep breath. "Merci." He ducks his head sheepishly, the streaks in his hair fading out over time and he picks a piece off his scone to nibble on. "Oui. It was…tender." He nods slowly. "It was ah, a baby cow I believe not my favorite." He nibbles on that piece of scone.

There's a bit of a smirk upon Mike's lips but the reason behind it is not voiced until he finishes with the bite in his mouth. "Yeah, sometimes it's better not knowing what a dish is if you want to enjoy it more."

"Then sometimes knowing what it is you are putting in your mouth is better, even if it grosses you out." Armand offers before chewing slowly and sniffing at his tea, wrapping a hand around the cup as he looks down at the table and picks at his scone with his free hand. "So. How have you been?"

"There wasn't an attack when I got my coffee today so that's a good start," Mike replies, "You've pretty much been around for the more eventful parts of the past few days for me." He reaches for his coffee, "And you?"

"Ahh…New York is more eventful, oui. Scary tings." Armand takes a cautious sip of his hot tip before arching an eyebrow. "I have been okay. I am good with collecting cans…been however looking for work, is better."

"It can be, yeah." Mike agrees upon the assesment of New York, "As for the work thing there's always that McDougles we ran into each other at." He gives a bit of a grin at that, "Looks like they can need the help at the registers."

"…I am not good with numbers. I am better with Baking." He admits taking another sip of his tea as he regards Mike with some confusion and then Armand gestures towards the book Mike was reading. "You have a dark heart or thoughts? Appreciation for dark beauty?"

Then you could check with one of the bakeries or one of these coffee shops. Some do their own baking." Mike suggests as his eyes fall upon the book, "Poe is inspiring. I didn't quite get much in terms of tv options growing up." The book lifts, "Reading was one of my primary sources of entertainment." The worn book is turned, exposing the remnants of what used to be a label for sorting within a library, "Did you know sometimes, the library sells their older books in order to replace them with less worn copies?"

"Hmm, Oui…I will go ahead and see maybe if coffee shop or bakery will hire." Armand nibbles on his scone and he nods slowly. "I read many books growing up, but I had hiding most of the time." Then he perks a bit. "Really? Selling for how much?"

"It depends on the condition of the book." Mike answers, shaking his head. Fingers sliding out from the page, losing whatever place he was at, he shows the excess wear and tear of the hard cover, "Hardcover, with dustjacket, down to four dollars."

Armand ahhs softly and he scans the book while sipping his tea and he tilts his head to the side. "Thank you for telling." A pause. "Does that book have the one…the one with the ahh…And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams, Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams — In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams." He nods firmly. "I tink that is what it says."

"To One in Paradise?" Mike asks, lowering the book, glancing to it before he starts to flip to a section towards the back, "Yeah. It's near the back. But, it's with a grey eye in this version. Poe kind of did some changes to it." He pauses, lowering the book. "I've, had this book for awhile." He admits.

Armand ohs softly and and nods slowly. "To one in paradise, oui." He points a finger to Mike before going back to sipping his tea. "Well it is good to keep things you really like close to you."

Mike nods, smiling, setting the book down upon the table before reaching for his coffee, "It's a good collection. Even has the detective stories in it."

Armand has finished off his scone by now, sipping his warm tea and exhaling softly as he looks around the shop and watches people warily.

With the newfound quiet, Mike sips his beverage, observing Armand's behavior. The cup lowers, "So, why are you so jumpy?"

Armand ohs softly and shakes his head. "Um. Well there are people who said we'll be sorry or something for interfering and-and just dunno when something weird will happen. It is unnerving."

"Ah." Mike frowns, reaching over to grab the last bit of his bagel, "What led to someone saying that to you? That time with the cans being blown up?"

Armand gives a little nod. "Oui. You see, there were strange twins and they appeared after this man started choking and coughing and he fells over and began coughing up blood and it was…was gross so I went to see to the hurt man a-and they told me and another to ah…leave now and you will live. Interfere and you will die. I said non." He shrugs.

Mike gives a bit of a nod to this. "So they were trying to talk you out of helping the guy coughing up blood." Mike shakes his head, "You're probably going to hear that a lot more often if you keep getting involved in those types of situations. And based from a couple days ago, you should work on getting rid of that deer in the headlights reaction when they happen."

Armand sighs softly and takes another sip of tea. "They blew up my cart, I lose everyting really almost in one day…so yeah, But I cannot do anyting really…I want to help but it isn't very easy."

"If helping was easy then there'd be a lot less people having a hard time with things." Mike murmurs, looking to Armand, "There are many ways a person can help a situation that doesn't involve actually fighting. Crowd control is one. If you spot someone who is just standing there, make them get out of the way or seek shelter. The less people blatantly there in the crossfire, the better. It might not be a glamourous way to help, but it's useful."

Armand mmhms softly and sets his cup down on the counter, examining a chip in his nail polish with concern as he listens closely. "Oh oui, This is something I do agree on. I do nothin' but try to get people to safety, but it still makes one concerned to have death threats from people with powers." He points out and then nods slowly. "I-I shall do better than standing and staring."

Mike nods, "I'd say you'll get used to it eventually but that itself would probably be bad." He pops the last bit of bagel into his mouth, chewing it a few times before swallowing, "Another way you can help that likely won't lead to the threats as much is just getting out of the area. That is also helpful to the ones who are fighting. One less person to keep track of."

Armand stares down at the table for a minute…or two and then he finally speaks softly. "I am not running anymore, it is tiring and I run out of shoes. I will make a life here in New York. I will see Cats. I will eat a foot long hot dog." He nods firmly. "And I will invest money in the stock market."

"Is Cats even still performing on Broadway?" Mike wonders, "I know there are tour groups out there but…" He pauses, shaking his head, "Well, at least there's the other two." He grabs the cup to finish off the coffee.

Armand hmms softly and nods as he gets to his feet with his tea. "Merci, Monsieur Mike for allowing me to take evening tea with you." He bows a bit and eyes the door. "I must return to room for check in and such, be safe and be well." Then he turns to make his exit.

Mike nods, lifting up his coffee in a mock toast to the departing hair-man's back. "You too." Sip.

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