Chrenys
Proud Ladykiller
23,425 Points
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The small shop had sprung up seemingly out of nowhere, tucked innocently between two of many shopping centers lining the streets. The warm, inviting brown of the brick exterior was such a sharp contrast to stark white and concrete gray that you wonder why you hadn't noticed it before. Had it always been here? It looked aged, but you can't recall it ever being there in the first place.
The clamor of the city is steadily growing now that most people were finishing their lunches and continuing on their shopping spree. You hadn't yet gotten your food, but then you hadn't focused on anything other than your shopping, either. You needed to get things done, and this is the best place to do it.
Suddenly, however, you don't quite mind that you are getting a bit... distracted. The place is small, but perhaps has more to it inside than what you notice from here.
From where you stand, you can see a group of girls pulling open the door and walking through, each with smiles on their faces. The small blue sign on the door swung gently as the entry way closed off, waiting for the next customer.
Come in, we're open!
Curiosity tugs on you. What would be the harm in simply... walking in? You could pop in, see just what the little place had going for itself, and pop right back out and head off to your business, wherever said business may be. They'd get a little business (even if you didn't buy anything, they'd sure appreciate the attention), and you would finally sate your curiosity for good.
So with that thought you wait at the crosswalks, tapping your foot impatiently. A single car stops to allow you to cross, and you wave your thanks and scuttle to the other side, making your way to the door. The closer you get, the stronger the smells. From inside you can sense a variety of things, the strongest of the scents being coffee and chocolate. Muffled music plays on the other side of the door, and a small chalkboard by the door on the inside has a list of songs and bands you'd heard of and hadn't, suggestions for their radio station. On the back wall, behind the register, hangs a menu. Another board sitting on the table next to the register lists off specials.
A young woman wipes down a small round table, focused on the task at hand with a peaceful smile. As you put your hand against the door and wrap your fingers around the handle, you can see two other forms darting to and fro past a door behind the counter. A faint chorus of laughter emanates through the cafe as you step in, and the girl cleaning the tables stops to stand straight, short brown hair mussed as she greets you ecstatically,
"Welcome!"
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