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 Posted: Thu Apr 29, 2010 6:58 pm
Who: Vivi, Granny Maplethorpe, Milton, Byron
When: Around 2:30 in the afternoon
Where: Vermillion Bakery
Weather: Soft, steady, and cool April showers.
It was barely after two o'clock and already it had been a very long day. There was a windfall of hungry lunch customers and a barrage of orders over the phone, followed by the quick succession of deliveries that had to be made. Shepard had gone out already to two parties that day and grumbled his way through lunch, and then sped out again to deliver a lovely croquembouche to some blissfully happy couple somewhere.
When a lull finally came at half-past two, Vivi felt gloriously cheerful, happily re-stocking some baguettes for the pre-dinner crowd. She hated leaving goods in the bakery overnight, and this day had more than obliged in helping her sell out. It was a shame that there were no tarts left, though... some of those pre-dinner folk would likely be disappointed.
"Don't overwork yourself, my dear." Granny Maplethorpe shuffled her tarot cards placidly from a nearby table, looking more a fairy-tale relic today than normal, her ankles crossed and her back straight as a board. "But if you happen to get a moment -- and do not strain, of course; it's no bother if you can't -- I should love a nice pot of tea."
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Posted: Mon May 24, 2010 11:16 am
Milton Fettua was a man who lived on simple pleasures. While his dreams and aspirations of becoming a great wizard was a complex road of outlandish prerequisites and metaphysical genius, it was a goal he would be working toward his entire life. In the meantime, it was imperative he filled his days with various coping mechanisms. Small achievements such as, say, not killing Byron that morning and seeing that Adam was fed was something for Milton to be proud of. Getting together the will to infiltrate common society to shop for groceries was often an ordeal that left him frazzled but triumphant come the end of the day. Rewarding himself often was also a vital part of maintaining his sanity, especially now that his house had more semi-intelligent denizens than just the wizard and his rodent companion. Something as simple as eating well and having a moment to himself in his favorite armchair, sipping a cup of tea was a thing Milton was coming to cherish more and more these days.
Today's first reward came in the form of a little bakery near the place Milton purchased his groceries for the month. More often than not, the redhead was subject to visiting different towns depending on various factors. Weather conditions were one, since Milton did not take a normal means of transportation but rather flew in on a rug made of bear hide. Crowds were another- because a wizard must dislike people and separate himself from society (and admittedly Milton was a little awkward in his own way around people) he didn't want to go to a store that was too populated lest he risk actually bumping into someone or, god forbid, have to stand in line. There was also distance, which depended on Milton's mood for flying, and price, because Milton was also cheap. Today Milton had chosen shortest distance because of weather (damp robes were not fun) and because he had company. That was to say Byron had wanted to get out of the house and Milton could not find himself denying an extra set of arms. Except he was really sure he hated Byron and didn't want to be seen with him in public for too long.
"Why, Milton," Byron was saying to him, in what Milton referred to as that tone, as the wizard approached the bakery doors, "Do you have a sweet tooth?"
"You may stay outside, if you like," The redhead responded in a cool tone of warning, which was what he was learning to use instead of his general snarl. The latter usually just spurred his youthful companion's shenanigans and that was decidedly not what the wizard needed right now. It worked. Byron's arms were heavy with plastic bags and the bear pelt that Milton used to get around while the wizard only held two bags in the hand not clutching his staff. The thought of relieving himself of the weight as well as perhaps garnering a treat for himself was enough to still the rogue's tongue.
In they breezed, Milton mostly ignorant to those that were currently in the shop as he set his things on what looked to be a sturdy, if ornate table. He shed his robe -green with dark emerald embroidery- over a chair so that he was now only in his dark breeches and tunic and strode over to the counter while the brunette struggled with his own load. When he got there, no immediate help came to him so his shrewd eyes peered around the interior of the shop. Spotting what seemed to be the serving wench, he cleared his throat in her general direction. Really- this inconvenience was very unprofessional.
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Posted: Tue May 25, 2010 10:00 pm
Granny Maplethorpe gave the barest lift of her eyebrows as the pair strode into Vermillion; a motion which, in her language, was the same as anyone else oggling outright at them. A very polite sort of interest spun itself into her china-blue eyes as she noted Milton's staff, but her gaze did not linger, and she instead returned to her steady shuffling. Hmm, what a pity she had not gotten her afternoon tea early! Perhaps she might have been able to foresee just what sort of magical implements would be entering the bakery today...
Vivi glided swiftly to her place as the wizard cleared his throat, ready to greet her customers with a winsome, attentive smile. "Bonjour, monsieurs, welcome to Vermillion~!" Her accented voice was pleasing and low, but chipper nonetheless. "Is there anything I could perhaps interest you in?"
An interesting duo, to be sure, she ventured, judging by their bags (groceries, and... a bear pelt?) and by the redhead's dress. Part of her longed to go and examine the embroidery on this newcomer's robe, but a quick look at him easily revealed that such a motion would most definitely Not Be Welcome. And so, as it was, she stood prettily behind the counter and only waited for some manner of response.
Too bad that green robe didn't belong to the other fellow, she thought idly. He looked friendly.
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Posted: Wed May 26, 2010 12:13 pm
Milton, to put it simply, ignored the girl once she was stationed behind the counter. He plucked up one of the menus nearby to study, eyes coursing almost dismissively over the material. Apparently he'd just wanted her waiting on him, like any decent hostess.
"Bonjour, madmoiselle," Byron had managed to free himself of his mess and now came to join his landlord at the counter. He, however, had a wide and charming smile for her trouble. "Is there something you would recommend? That savory aroma has gone and addled my poor mind, if the sight of such delectable wares did not. A pastry of the day, perhaps? My friend will only have your most pretentious tea, I'm certain."
"Keep whatever you can peddle him under five gold," Was all Milton offered for the moment, roughly elbowing Byron away when the man dared to try and schmooze on him. The man-child had absolutely no shame.
He was aware of a presence, as silly as that may have seemed. His aquamarine eyes flitted to their corners to assess the old woman sitting in the corner of the shop. The girl had been speaking to her before she remembered her job, he noted. There was something about her... But he didn't allow his gaze to linger long, flickering back to the menu.
[[ Note: I'm considering gold here to be the equivalent of a dollar. I'll change it if that's incorrect. ]]
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Posted: Thu May 27, 2010 9:28 pm
Vivi stood in the manner of any sort of decent hostess, her posture impeccable and her gaze bright and unintrusively attentive. When Byron spoke to her, she turned that gaze to him, adding with a little laugh: "And bonjour to you, as well~!"
"Keep whatever you can peddle him under five gold," Milton had said, and Vivi's smile grew imperceptibly at that, gliding swiftly to her display case.
"Five gold should still get you something good, I think!" said the Frenchwoman cheerily. "Alas, but we have run out of the small tarts... if you desire fruit, there is some lemon-blueberry left! We have some fresh chocolate croissants, and most of our cookies are under five gold per." She gestured broadly to the section of the display where the cookies were housed: there were still plenty of flavors remaining, from the thick golden oatmeals to the pale, spotted cranberries. There were still a few stragglers of the large triple-chocolate variety, looking very naked there without their delicious companions to flank them. "Please, tell me if anything catches your eye, yes?"
Giving Byron a winning smile, she returned to her original space to wait patiently for Milton's order. If the man did order, of course. But, truly -- given Trudy Maplethorpe's existence, Vermillion did have a rather extensive selection of pretentious teas.
Behind her smile, Vivi was sighing. This other fellow, he looked like fun.
Granny Maplethorpe did not watch the exchange, but a keen observer could have told that she was still quite intrigued. Her hands did not move so quickly over her cards, and her eyes studied them without really seeing them. Yes, there could be no doubt: he was a wizard. Of what caliber, she wondered? In the circus, it would have been easy to cage some manner of conversation with the gentleman, but at an establishment such as this... well, she would have to be content with her curiosity.
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Posted: Wed Aug 04, 2010 9:57 am
Thus far, the young woman proved to be an infallible benefactor, taking what Milton had meant to be an all-around snide remark and seamlessly moving into her sales pitch. It wasn't something to drop a jaw over, but it was admirable nonetheless. Byron would follow her motions, moving to stand in front of the display to peer at the lit pastries. Like little frosted angels, each of them. The brunette briefly put a fist to his lips, his brows cinching in expressive desire. Just one? Milton was a cruel, cruel man.
And that cruel man was ticking over his options. The menu, he'd have to admit, wasn't sparse. Just how much was he going to drink? And how much would he be willing to share? Eventually he'd tell the woman which pot to brew for them before his eyes drifted to their corners again. Were those cards the woman had on the table? Too long for him to think her a gambler, so that must mean...
"Oh, I guess I'll just have to be placated with one of those croissants!" Bryon sighed dramatically, deciding to go for filling over the lure of the overdone cookies that would surely send him reeling from how rich they were. He still looked a little pitiful, brightening a little when the wizard idly pointed out the same cookies along with a few others and told Vivi to wrap them up. Before the total was issued, Milton had already made up neat stacks of the sum from a pouch on his belt resting atop his hip.
And then it seemed the wizard had little more to do with any of them, gliding back to take his seat at the table and most definitely not looking at the old woman in the corner.
"Did you make all of these yourself, madmoiselle?" Byron was asking Vivi, not quite so keen to leave company yet.
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Posted: Tue Aug 31, 2010 9:37 pm
Such a strange pair, such a very strange pair! As Vivi took the pair's orders with every evidence of attentiveness, some part of her mind wandered, curious: What on earth had brought this pair together, and what on earth kept them that way? Brothers, perhaps? No, not brothers... even dissimilar brothers were, well, more similar than these two. Lovers, perhaps? The thought just barely ticked up Vivi's smile as she nodded pleasantly and handed Milton his change. How very interesting, she thought to herself with pleasure, quite a little mystery.
As Milton made his way back to the table alone, leaving Vivi to assemble their goods and beverages, Granny Maplethorpe most distinctly did not look up from her cards. She seemed quite distantly deep in thought for a moment or so afterward, but afterward she resolutely stood. She walked to Vivi's counter in her prim and old-ladylike manner, her chin held high.
"I hope you will not mind, Viviette," she said politely, "I could not help but overhear, of course, the tea that gentleman ordered. It is quite a finicky tea -- gorgeous when it is brewed correctly, of course -- and I was hoping you would not mind if I might lend you a hand in this particular instance." She paused to pluck some imaginary lint from her otherwise irreproachable cardigan.
"Oh!" The Frenchwoman looked up. "Of course not, grandmere; I should be delighted."
And the old woman set quickly to work, her hands moving with a swift correctness rather unusual for her age, her back very straight and her eyes focused only on the task at hand. Vivi watched her for a brief moment, shaking her dark head with amusement, when she heard the brunette address her.
"Not all of them, perhaps, but some great percent!" she answered brightly, sneaking a little extra macron beside Byron's croissant. "The cookies, they are not mine, and I get some little help with things here and there. It can be a tedious work, but quite rewarding, I think~" She offered the man his plate with an alluring little smile. "And you, monsieur? What is it that you do?"
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Posted: Mon Sep 20, 2010 9:27 am
Milton may have been making a show of ignoring everyone in the shop now, but Byron was most certainly not. His honeyed eyes traced the movements of the old woman, ears perked to pick up the snatches of conversation between her and the hostess. He was very poor at minding his own business. It seemed that the woman was interested in seeing that the tea was made correctly, which seemed boring enough. Still, he watched her hands carefully, focused until Vivi addressed him once more.
"If the work fufills and yields treasures the likes of these, I should say it is, without a doubt, rewarding. You have made a home of this place," The little bit of extra did not go unnoticed, for his whole face seemed to light up a little as he received his plate. Since the croissant was warm, he plucked that up for a sampling first, carefully unfurling a small ribbon of the dough and popping it in his mouth. His eyes shut, and he groaned in a manner that was almost lewd as he savored the pastry. He was going for the macron when he seemed to realize she had asked him a question, and a rather roguish smile took its place across his stubble-accented face.
"I am royalty, cherie," He told her in a most conspiratory tone, "I am a Prince of Travelers, King of Crossroads." With a bit of a flourish, he stepped back from the counter and swept a regal bow at the hips. "Let not thine eyes deceive thee for I am a man for whom the untamed path holds no mystery. There is not a stone turned that I do not hear from, and whose tales I keep as closely as the sinews of my heart. As of late, however, I have been vacationing under the tempestuous regime of yonder landlord."
The brunette returned to nibble on his macron, crooning appreciatively under his breath.
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Posted: Sat Oct 16, 2010 9:15 pm
Vivi settled herself at the counter across from this strange and interesting man, her posture relaxed and pleased as she watched the other ... appreciate his croissant. There was something about him that Vivi decided she rather liked -- a certain flair, almost like magic, that whirled around him and was part of him.
"Royalty!" she breathed with a hushed curiousity, her tone neither mocking nor disbelieving, but rather truly and deeply interested. As she witnessed Byron's bow, she took a step back and curtseyed, herself, feeling that it was only right in such circumstances -- but then she returned to her former posture, leaning slightly on the counter as she spoke to the other, voice quiet as if sharing secrets. "How fascinating~ you must have seen much of this wide and lovely world as such, n'est pas? And your ... yonder landlord, is he, too...?"
What drivel the young things spoke sometimes, Granny Maplethorpe thought to herself as she readied a small teapot of irreproachably delicious tea. In that, at least, she knew she could take some pride -- it smelled lovely, and was steeped perfectly in the tradition she'd been taught since she was so-high. She placed the tea on a tray, along with a small bowl of lump sugar, a few slices of lemon, and a tiny jug of cream. Thus equipped, she walked quite straight-backed to the staffed gentleman's table.
"Pardon the wait," she said, settling the tray down.
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