|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Apr 06, 2018 6:22 pm
Another glorious Tuesday in the beginning of April met the city with an uncharacteristic amount of fun-ruining, plan-foiling snow. And while Ice wanted to cave to his joints' constant complaining about the weather, perhaps stay home and drink the poor turn of the day away, he had a well-established habit to feed. A different habit, with more of a social component to it than knocking over a fifth of whiskey with TastyKake on his lap.
Though this habit wasn't entirely removed from cats. The weather buffeted him in his wrapped-too-tight ermine coat, but his insistence on reaching the cat café pushed him along steadily. The collected inches of snow on the ground bunched up at the edges of sidewalks and at the wide yawn of streets, provoking more poor moods than he could count. Parallel parkers intentionally claimed two spots, or stole someone else's spot, or some unintentional casualty to a sour mood left an equally venomous note on a car, or some pedestrian passed yelled at their SO over the phone, or someone else took their frustrations out on their favorite barista. But as he pushed himself beyond all that, feeling ever wearier, he approached the object of his intention.
As he pushed open the doors, he found the CatFé busy — as it was often busy. But a day like today meant customers demanded more comfort than usual. Fresh coffees to brighten their spirits, teas to allay their nerves, and cat company to soak away their stresses. While Ice lacked a reservation to visit TastyKake's former comrades, the coffee bar often had a spot open just for him.
So he slipped in, copped a reluctant wave to the basement-dwelling nerd that was Elliot, and seated himself at will. No one seemed to notice. And, curiously, he hadn't yet spotted Tuesday's new set of tights. How curious.
"Where's that delicious barista lurking today?" The question was spoken aloud, though his head was turned away from Elliot's forgettable presence.ivynian LET THE PLAN COMMENCE. no rush on this; it's all for fun and weirdness!
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2018 9:10 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 01, 2018 4:35 pm
Ice hadn't expected Quenton to come jaunting out of the back with a coffee box in one hand and a cat in the other. Especially the cat in the other — usually that cat sat on his head or his shoulders or something, but the furbag with the doofy crown was lugged about like a bad piece of luggage. But there were far, far more interesting things to look at than a disgruntled feline.
Like that naughty strip of skin showing between the bottom of his skirt and the top of his stockings, or that tucked-in waistline from that impressive corset, or those shy pectoral muscles hidden behind the half-jacket. Of course, Quenton's face wasn't half bad on its own, but really, he could look at that face anytime he came in. Tights Tuesday was a celebration of those sculpted legs, not those peaked eyebrows.
Speaking of peaked, however, Ice adjusted in his seat. As soon as he was certain Quenton knew he existed at this fine hour, he let loose a wolf whistle. The cat, of course, shot him a dirty look at once. "Stripes today, hmm? They really draw the eye up, don't they?" And that skirt quite barely covered That a**.
"You didn't have to carry all that coffee out for me, you know," he said coyly. "I don't mind watching you reach for the bottom shelf. Makes that flat white taste a little better."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue May 15, 2018 9:11 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 20, 2018 12:57 pm
Elliot looked so unimpressively plain next to Quenton. It was like he never really gave it a good college try in the morning — untucked shirt, frumpy polo over the top of it, no real sense of color or style.
Grinning, Ice waggled a brow at the dressed-up barista. "I can make an exception for today." Besides, you burn off calories by getting sprung, right? Gets your heart racing and all that. Could be counted as good cardio.
"You know, I still stand by my offer. You could still get up on a ladder and paint a nice, big adfor the CatFé on the side of my pawn shop. There's a couple stories to work with, too. People'd be seeing it all the way down the street and all you'd have to do is paint it on there. I'm sure the owner would be appreciative of it; I get quite a lot of people coming my way on busy days. Maybe I could throw in some referrals and distribute some business cards if it's only you that's doing the painting." He let his imagination get away from him for a moment as he mentally placed the well-dressed barista atop a ladder. He granted himself an excellent view, too — even at the cost of bad luck for however many years.
And Quenton's polite professionalism was the catalyst that made it all happen — from allowing Ice to continue his lewd looks and language to continuing to serve him. He'd been thrown out for worse behavior, of course, but he'd also been thrown out for better.
"By the way, you might want to cut your hair. It's obstructing the view," he remarked pointedly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2018 11:16 pm
  Strickenized /ignores 'get up on a ladder' entirely
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2018 7:49 pm
Isaiah shrugged nonchalantly. "It's five o'clock somewhere." And it's nearly always night on Scholomance. Doesn't that earn me a little drinking time? That place is all the reason I need, you know.
"But I don't see what that has to do with anything. I've got to loosen up to keep up with you, after all." He reached into his back pocket for his cell phone, which opened on the camera app. He spent the better part of a minute leveling the shot — fingers braced against the phone's narrow sides, the angle of his wrists shifted just so, and he tilted the phone here or there to ensure it looked as straight as he could manage. And when he was certain the white balance looked proper, the ISO was set, and the f/stop read low for best effect, he reached with his thumb to press the button.
Except his thumb moved the camera just slightly, which restarted the process. More shifting, more nudging. The foam was starting to lose its shape, and he hummed his recognition of it. Finally he set a three second timer on his next shot. He waited, moved, scooted, moved, then touched the button. The count went off mentally. Then, at last, the click of a false shutter captured the perfect picture. Another flat white was filed away in the CatFé folder on his phone.
Next came a simple steel bottle, flat and easily packed against the inside of his boot. He unscrewed the top and tipped it lightly over the feline in his coffee. Capped, he replaced the bottle to its home as he took a sip of his beverage. "Tastes superb, as always.
"Tell me, what does it take to get hired here? I should like to learn the recipes, maybe meet the owner, maybe figure out where he poaches his staff."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 27, 2018 8:02 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 30, 2018 7:19 am
"Oh, a free lesson. How about that?" Ice's smirk broadened before he turned attention to logistics. Coffee down without sloshing, he poached for his cell phone again. From where he unlocked to the notes screen and added a reminder for a smokeless candle. Very clever. Two, he decided, since Tastykake needed her own entertainments through the long work days and he could stand to return to his roots. Maybe a second cat would do her some good. Or they'd try to kill each other; he could never tell with cats.
Or with Quenton, evidently. 'More smiles for Elliot' decoded a few ways. Either Elliot was lonely for his own dedicated patrons or Quenton tried to fob him off in the usual seamless Customer Service demeanor. Really, Quenton should be flattered — having a work admirer could really help with those pesky bills, like student loan payments or car payments or making rent, all for the low cost of a few favors. Really, it'd be in Quenton's favor to drop this standoffish routine and indulge. He was starting to get a bit old for it.
Well, not everyone matures at the same pace, he thought as he returned to sipping his coffee. He's allowed to lag a little behind… Though maybe not so far back as to be stuck in the pre-12 'ew boys' routine.
"Don't teach me too well or I might stop coming in." He raised an eyebrow knowingly.
"Oh, I can't stay too terribly long today, but I wanted to show you this before I left." Cup down, phone up. Flick-flick-flick went his thumb across the screen. Finally he sat it on the counter and turned it around for Quenton's perusal; the screen glowed with couch-bound Tastykake on her back, all limbs splayed, and just the tip of her pink tongue visible past her muzzle.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2018 6:52 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 18, 2018 10:05 am
"Maybe her personal butler's gotten more piercings since last you saw him. Wouldn't that be a treat?" Not that he had, but the thought was often there — something to distract, to make up for, to improve on what was still there. But the thought was a bittersweet one that settled in the last dregs of his flat white. He drained the remainder, made more pleasant for the company, and fished about once more for his wallet. He offered the tip of a dollar to complement the price paid.
There was yet more to do in the day, however. The much-loathed payroll loomed over his head if paychecks were to turn out by Friday. Inventory sorting was another problem to solve, as was somehow finding time to spruce up his obvious bachelor pad. And none of that touched on pending troubles as a knight. What does it all mean, he asked himself at times.
With a sigh, Ice excused himself from the table. "You're a good kid, Quenton. Even though you're not so much a kid anymore." Years of testosterone were showing pretty strongly in his features, even if his hairline hadn't yet started to recede to a more mature look. Maybe it would stay so youthful and Quenton could buy himself a few extra years of looking like he was the fresh-into-college type. That might score him a tryst or two that would change his mind out of this juvenile 'dating is gross' mindset. He wanted to stubbornly cling, but that mentality had to change eventually.
"I'll keep my blog up-to-date with more tasty pictures," he promised with a wink. Henceforth he excused himself out the door, back into the April heat where the sun bore down relentlessly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
