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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2019 20:13:51 GMT -5
Original search thread- A Winter Time Romance
The crowds were bustling with people, all dressed for the winter. Scarves, jackets, boots, mittens, and quite a few walked with a thermos filled to the brim with a hot drink. However, walking among them dressed in a simple suit and no real jacket, was Septimus McKnight. His cane clicked softly against the sidewalk as he moved along, all the while ignoring the odd looks shot his way. Why the looks? Other than how under-dressed the man was, the half-mask on his face certainly drew people's attention. The mask was a dull gray and cold to the touch. The white eye under the mask seemed to dimly glow.
Finally, he arrived at his destination. Pausing a moment, his dual colored eyes danced across the black letters of Cafe. 'Harmony's Haven' was written in bold letters. Turning his attention to the door, he stepped forward and clasped the knob, turning it and then pushing it open calmly. The soft ring of the bell sounded through the room and he entered, closing the door as his eyes wandered about the room. Nothing had changed from the year he'd been gone. The familiarity washed over him and his tense body relaxed. He'd missed this.
Now more relaxed, he glanced to the booth where he normally sat and was grateful to find it empty. Without a word Septmius walked over to it and he took a seat, letting go a content sigh. Once settled, the male glanced around and his eyes fell upon a waitress coming over. As soon as she was beside his table he ordered his usual; a cup of lemon-honey tea and a piece of lemon cake. Then he dismissed her and tuned his attention to the window and those wandering around outside it.
Absently, he reached p and very lightly brushed his fingertips over the mask, which was colder then usual because of the weather outside. Grimacing as that half of his face throbbed with pain, he took hold of the mask and pulled put from his face.
The skin under it was still a deep red and while the stitches were gone the scars it left were not. Though his face was already burn-scarred before the surgery, so once those scars heal it'll simply match the previous ones.
A year ago he had the mask that had been melted to his face taken off through surgery, said surgery was a high risk. But, it had been worth it to him. Two years ago, here in this Cafe one of the waiters had absently commented on the mask, wondering what Septimus face looked like underneath and well, those words kept tumbling around until he finally decided to have the surgery done. So, McKnight scheduled it and had it done, though the price was pain and not being able to come to this little haven for a year but now he was back and was particularly looking forward to see that waiter- that is manager, once again.
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Post by Myst on Sept 24, 2019 21:06:17 GMT -5
What he loved about this place was that everything was made in house. The pastries, the cakes, everything. Not only did it smell wonderful at any given time, but it made it special. Or to him it did. It seemed that the customers liked it as well. They seemed to like the air of personality, saying it felt homey. He recalled having conversations with many of his regulars about recipes and how the bakers shower up at least an hour and a half early to make sure everything was fresh. Naturally he showed up with them, almost always helping them.
Dressed in his typical black pants and white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Jonah found himself looking out of the front window from where he stood in the kitchen. As of now, they had a plethora of what the menu offered today, and they still had a bit of time before the rush. So, he found himself simply watching as people walked by, desperately trying to protect themselves from the cold. Right. That would be him in a few hours - all bundled up and trying to maintain the feeling in his finger tips. With this thought in mind, he couldn’t help but sigh, knowing he’s still be much too could despite how many layers he wore. And in this moment, he took the chance to close his eyes and appreciate the warmth of the kitchen.
He heard the bell ding, though he didn’t budge. Everything was baked, and he had three servers in preparation for the busy hours. Unless there was a problem, he could take the next few moments. It wasn’t until the waitress approached the baristas and requested the drink he even bothered to move. Lemon-honey tea... it wasn’t an unusual drink but it always caught his attention this time of year. After last year, the frequency of the order had dropped.
As the waitress came back, he nodded to her. “You’re due for your lunch, yeah? I’ll cover you.” She didn’t protest, handing over her little notepad that she’d hastily scribbled the order down on. Lemon cake... Looking back out through the kitchen, the manger found his suspicions were confirmed. After a year of silence and no shows, the man in the mask reappeared. Interesting. For years, promotion after promotion, Jonah found that he never came in any other time of year. He later found that he didn’t talk much, which was a shame, because he himself was a conversationalist. Even still, he found it odd that the mask never came off, but rather than question it he let it be. As the years passed, he’d developed a habit of sitting across from him after delivering his order in hopes of striking up a proper conversation.
He hadn’t been successful.
It was the year after his managerial promotion that he never showed. Had he been disappointed? Quite so - that loss of familiarity had thrown him off a bit, but he worked around it. And today, he was back. So he played the little lemon cake, picking up the mug of tea on his way past the barista’s counter before they could even call out to the servers. It didn’t take much for him to maneuver his way to the booth, setting the other’s order down before taking his usual spot on the opposite side of the booth. “Ya know, even the regulars were gettin’ worried about you.” Very rarely did Jonah speak formally - he found it didn’t sound as genuine as he liked. A personal opinion, he knew, but it didn’t change anything. Leaning forward a little, he rested his arms on the table for support. Curiosity was getting the best of him. Sure, they’d never held an extensive conversation, but he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t missed seeing him last winter. “Where’d you go?”
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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2019 22:42:05 GMT -5
Seasons came and went; leaves upon great large trees and smaller ones slowly grew old, frail, and then fell from the tree, dead. A pure white snow covering any trace of the previous seasons. But when one really took a step back and watched the snow melt away... They would be faced with the fact that time didn't go by slowly. No, it went and went, never stopping for anyone. Sad thing was, most of the people who realize this fact are the elderly, the ones who let their time fly by in a useless manner. However, Sep was not one of those people. He'd found out how time truly worked when he was very young and so, he didn't waste it. Though, his choice of career could be considered wasteful to some.
Bi-colored eyes watched the people outside as they milled about, like sheep some stuck close together. Others walked alone and as far from other people’s touch. Either way, they seemed to each have some sort of destination in mind. People watching was something he did often and even now they still found ways to surprise him… at times. The rest of the time they were annoyingly predictable. Why couldn’t they give him a long-term challenge? Was that really so hard?
With a silent sigh, the fancy-dressed man turned his gaze away from the disappointing people watching and to the interior of the Cafe. Eyes flickered over the faces of the staff and he noted the familair faces here and there, some of the customers were familiar too. People sat alone here and there while others- mainly college students sat huddled in a group obviously trying to study but looking constipated. There was also a couple or two, being sappy. Eventually, his eyes fell on the front counter and zeroed onto one very familiar face heading his way.
Septimus could remember many years before when he first found this place during his annual winter trip to this city. It was a small cafe tucked in a corner, nothing spectacular at all could be seen. However, McKnight needed a place to relax even just a bit. So, throwing caution out the window he entered and found that the inside was just as bland. To say he’d been disappointed was an understatement but, he went and took a window seat, waiting patiently for someone to come take his order. Lemon cake and honey-lemon tea, simple. When they brought it and he tasted he was surprised to find that it was pretty good though he’d had much better. After that Septimus kept coming back every day for a few hours and it wasn’t until having come there for two weeks that he began to recognize the faces- particularly the man who was literally always here.
Many years later and here Septimus was, watching that man as he approached. Caprireid was on his name tag and Caprireid was the reason he had put any thought much less proceeded to take off that mask.
Face completely devoid of emotion, Septimus watched as the slid into the booth with ease. Picking up his fork, he dipped it into the soft cake and pulled a bite away raising it to his lips. Sliding it into his mouth, he listened as the man opposite him spoke. 'Worried?' He snorted faintly, but then he swallowed the moist piece of cake and put his fork down carefully. The questioned tumbled through his mind, then he finally spoke in a calm formal manner, "Home. I don't live here." McKnight settled on a short to the point answer.
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 3:21:20 GMT -5
While he was well around of time's passage and how quickly one could lose track of it, Jonah wasn't the type to dwell on it. He much preferred to live in the moment lest he lose himself to his memories and hypotheticals of what the future could bring. Rather, he let everything happen however it may while doing his best to let go of things as they passed. It was why when people came and left the cafe, he didn't put much thought into. Or, he did his best not to, that is. People such as the couple occupying the small table closest to the counter or the group of college students trying yet failing to absorb previous lessons didn't get a lot of afterthought. No, these types of people came and left, and that's what he was familiar with.
It was when consistencies were changed that he allowed himself to dwell on it. When his most curious regular failed to make an appearance last year, he'd been more thrown off than he was willing to admit. The sudden change not only left him with an almost empty feeling, which he equated to the almost constantly empty booth. He couldn't recall anything being said, and he couldn't pick anything he himself had said. Then again, he'd always been better at remembering what people said to him rather than what he said to them.
Even still, he'd been out of his element last winter. After years of being able to accurately estimate what time the man would show, his constant preparedness had gotten in the way in his absence. It was an irritating reminder that change was inevitable, and he couldn't rely on consistency as often as he did. On the upside, he'd seemed to do much better in training those few months.
So here the manager sat, looking at the subject of last winter's offset. It was almost comforting seeing him back here was almost comforting. In reality, even if he hadn't shown again this year, he still would have been oddly prepared for him. Sure, he didn't expect much of an answer to the question posed, as he'd become accustomed to not receiving them. He was not disappointed when met with a short and sweet reply that caused him to grin. It was a conclusion he and his fellow servers had come to one year, figuring he was only ever just visiting when he was in the area on some anual trip. After, it was always such a specific time frame. Jonah, however, had continued to secretly wonder if it was something else entirely.
"Alright, that's fair." He found it hard to keep the slight chuckle out of his voice as he spoke, finding himself a little amused by it. Whether it was just because it had been more than a year he couldn't tell. Still, it was nice to have this again. "I think you know what I mean, though. After years of comin' in every winter, ya vanish. What gives?" Sitting up straight for a moment, he rolled his shoulders before leaning against the back of the booth. He just wanted to know, though he was quick to find a distraction. The mask. It was off.
Raising an eyebrow, he crossed his arms over his chest as he just observed for a couple of seconds. Very interesting... He would have to guess that those scars had a better story than his own. They had to be somewhat fresh based on the irritation. Then again, the temperature was unforgiving today, and he was sure that if he'd just come in from outside his own scar tissue would be similarly irritated. "Never thought I'd see you without the mask." While it was a comment made mostly to himself, it was still completely audible. Seeing the man in front of him sans mask was something he thought about often, but he'd never made any progress in the previous years.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 8:41:56 GMT -5
This mans' continued curiosity and persistence both now and in the past was as always, intriguing. In truth, McKnight was not used to being pressed for answers in such a casual and friendly fashion. In his line of work, information was tne sole purpose of someone's life, it could save your life as well. Because of this he was careful with every word he spoke, thought over people's questions and their own answer, inspecting and dissecting them. It was really second-nature at this point.
Septimus dual-colored gaze bore into Jonah, calculating. He supposed he could see from the other man's point of view how odd Septimus was, but most would have given up years ago about getting answers. Then again, he had noticed how not... normal, Jonah could be. It wasn't in a bad way of course, just different for the usually masked man.
At the chuckle, Septimus arched an eyebrow and watched as the manager sat back prattling onward. 'What gives?' Those two simple words echoed within his always focused mind, just like that comment years before. Why did this man have that effect? No one else in his world did that to him? Just a few words and Septimus felt like telling more, more than he knew he should. Pressing his lips together, he reached forward and picked up his tea, ringing it to his lips he took a long sip. Contemplating.
McNight proceeded to hear the other's next comment, this time about the mask that he had placed beside him on the bench. Ah, right. At that reminder, he grimaced as his attention returned to his faintly throbbing face. With the mask on for so long, he had gotten used to the different temperatures either causing a searing heat or numbing cold to his face where the edge of the mask touched his skin. With it off, his raw skin was not used to the direct contact of the sun's touch or the winter's icy breeze. "I was given strict instructions not to return last year, for a multitude of reasons," Septimus murmured, white-green eyes gazing into the liquid in his glass. Lazily he swirled the glass some, watching as the tea created ripples as it moved around the mug. "Removal of the mask was one of those reasons," he added almost absently, voice almost bored sounding.
Then his eyes moved from the glass to fall upon John once more, lips opening to perhaps reveal more of himself and reasons for his sudden absence- when the soft sound of 'Fur Elise' began to play from his phone. A frown touched his lips, but then he picked up the phone briefly glancing at the caller ID before answering... in another language. (Don't know anything other than English, using Google Translate. So sorry if this is completely wrong... XD) "Tout est ok? Fait-il besoin de moi pour rentrer à la maison?" (Is everything okay? Does he need me to come home?) Septimus spoke quickly, fingers drumming on the table lightly, an aura of concern seeming to overtake him. As he received an answer from the person on the phone, the dark-haired man nodded faintly. "Oui." (Yes)
On the other side of the phone, the caller was switched and they spoke. Septimus face softened and a smile almost touched his lips. "You should be resting," words returning to English and laced with warmth. The presence of the man opposite him seemed to vanish in this little moment.
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 10:35:18 GMT -5
(No stress - I also only know English so I’m sure it’s fine! xD)
Getting to know people was just something he did. He liked learning how others saw the world, what made them tick, and if they were good together in anyway shape or form. The concept of learning about another life came so naturally to him that half the time he forgot that some people didn’t like to talk about themselves at all. And once they made it known, or simply told him that they know longer wanted to speak to him, he would stop. Now, Septimus was special - he never seems too keen on answering, but never expressed any dislike for his continuous question, and it only ever served to make him all the more determined to get answers. Any answer, really.
It was interesting to him. For somebody who didn’t want to answer, he put up with a lot. He knew himself and he was sure the question got annoying, but the man across from him never expressed anything as such. Sure, a large part of him wanted to know more about the mask, but he really wanted to find out why the other allowed him to sit down and prod him day after day each winter.
The cafe manager let this thought settle to the back of his mind as he received a physical response rather than verbal. He either wouldn’t receive and answer, or it would be short and sweet and leave him only wanting more. Both scenarios had become typical, but this simple fact never deterred him for attempting to get more.
When attentions were drawn to the mask as per his last comment, Jonah found himself with nothing to say for the time being. His little habit of thinking out loud was something he’d be working on doing less, however it seemed he still had some work to do. He made not of the other’s grimace, wondering if it was a topic that was meant to be dropped. With no prior knowledge, he could only rely on body landings to determine what was and wasn’t okay to ask about right now. His grin faltered at the thought that the mask had become a touchy subject, he already found himself moving to tell the other to forget the question. He was met with an answer well before that could happen.
Strict instructions? From who? Lips parting to ask who, he found that he was met with a second part to the answer. That was... new. The grin dropped from his features and hazel eyes lit up with something akin to surprise. First, he had to move through the fact that this was probably the most information he’d received from the other in response to a question. The manager had never actually prepared for a time where he would be in this exact situation, but it was almost satisfying. Then he settled on the word removal. So the metal had been quite literally attached to him then? That would make sense considering the fresh scar tissue. It dawned on him once more than he still couldn’t tell whether this was a topic that should be avoided or not and he opened his mouth to ask. Instead, he was met with a ringtone.
Closing his mouth, his gaze dropped his forearms, eyes tracing the ink embedded in his skin. The Fox had some faded lines... that one hadn’t healed properly. He figured he was due for a touch up. His brows furrowed and he glanced up when the man across from him answered in French. He looked concerned... he wasn’t good with that. Eyes turning to the window, Jonah favored absently watching as people walked the street, heads down and wrapped head to toe in things they could only hope would contain their self created warmth. He quickly came to the conclusion that it was somebody from home. Maybe he should have left him to his conversation - not that he understood a lick of French, but it didn’t make it any less personal. It wasn’t until he answered something in English that he glanced back over. As interesting as it was to see him with this different demeanor, he came to conclusion that he should get back to work.
Then again, he wanted to know. He wanted to know what was going on for no other reason than knowing. But for once, Jonah did know better. It was interesting, the manager was by far less impulsive when he was at work. Although, it probably helped that he was just a smidge uncomfortable listening to one side of what he assumed to be a very personal encounter. Coming to a final decision he sat up straight, finally unfolding his arms and rolling his shoulders before sliding towards the open end of the booth. He didn’t waste any time standing up stretching a little more properly and cracking his knuckles.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 11:37:14 GMT -5
To be frank, Septimus had completely forgotten about the manager until he moved. Blinking, his eyes followed the other male and he paused his phone conversation. "Thanks for the cake and tea," he said to him, before returning to the call. He'd need to remember to leave a tip with his money before he left. Normally remembering wasn't an issue with him, but since the surgery his memory has been... less than adequate, much to his chargin. The doctor said it was temporary and it would return to what it always was, however it was taking its sweet time.
"I'll be back tonight, same time as always," McKnight assured the other person on the phone, voice soft. Said person was a child- Jake, the boy was six-year-old and Septimus son. Calls like this happened very rarely, and he knew it was because the kid was worried about Septimus. Which Sep himself saw no reason to be. He was almost a hundred percent better, and had done several jobs before this one this year. True this was harder than those but not by much really.
Finally, after what felt like forever McKnight hung up the phone. He wasn't one to say 'I love you', so he never did it when he hung up. Sighing, he sipped his tea and titled his head back against the booth, eyes closing tiredly.
(Sorry for the short post, out right now. How are you doing today? How was game night?)
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 12:30:00 GMT -5
Glancing back when he spoke up, Jonah only smiled at him. Well, it didn't seem like the conversation itself was too taxing, but it didn't change his level of comfortability with it. Giving a slight nod in response, he glanced out over the rest of the cafe. There didn't seem to be any problems and they still had a bit of time before the rush started. "No problem - it's on the house." It was something he had a bad habit of doing, often finding that he personally didn't mind occasionally covering a regular's expenses. Part of it was because he felt like he had good relationships with them. The other reason was that he was typically already coming out of pocket because he liked to eat in the kitchen when they ended up with excess foods. It was always after a certain point that he figured it was time to pay for his own product.
He didn't really leave any time for the other to refute the statement should he have tried as he was already making his way back across the room. Occasionally he did stop at a table to see how they were doing. Just as soon as he'd made it to the counter, he was back on the floor, finally taking to properly covering his waitress's lunch as he said he would. He stayed on the floor even after she returned from her break as business picked up to ensure nobody was overwhelmed. There was only a minor incident where somebody was politely told with an impending threat in his eyes to leave the cafe after harassing his workers.
It didn't happen often, but when it did it was rather unpleasant for both parties involved.
(its all good! and it was really fun! turned into the usually yelling at each other because we all played ourselves xD)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 16:32:42 GMT -5
((Lol, sounds like fun! Hmm, is there anything you'd like to happen in the rp right now? I'm trying to think of what to do without Sep leaving and doing a timeskip so soon.))
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 16:36:57 GMT -5
(It was xD almost violent but fun!! So far the only options my brain is circling are a physical fight involving an upset customer or ya boi Jonah comes back to harass him after the rush)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 17:07:00 GMT -5
Which of those would you prefer? Oh! Another idea is having someone Septimus knows come in and cause drama. But really, any idea sounds good to me. What would you like to happen?
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 17:15:10 GMT -5
(Oh that could be interesting as well! I’m honestly okay with any of the three honestly cause they could put good emphasis on their personalities and dynamic)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 17:53:27 GMT -5
((Hmmm, how about I mix it. Have one of the customers start a physical fight and it turn out to be someone Septimus knows? Did you want the fight to be between Septimus or Jonah?))
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 18:03:42 GMT -5
(Ohhh that could be really interesting. I feel like who it’s between could depend on the circumstances of the encounter. If it starts between the person and a server, Jonah will 100% be down to #fight becuase he highkey just protects them at all times)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2019 22:15:53 GMT -5
{{Sorry for lack of replies today. Today was way more tiring and busy than I thought it would be. Okay, I'll probably have it with a server. I'll work on the reply now but it may not be until tomorrow that I post it. Sorry!}}
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Post by Myst on Sept 25, 2019 22:24:30 GMT -5
((No stress man!! Rest is important and life happens ^^ and yeah take your time with it c: ))
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Post by Myst on Sept 26, 2019 15:21:19 GMT -5
(Hey, so my everything is locked in my dorm room for the time being because I'm so sleep deprived I let the door shut before I grabbed my key. On on the computer at work right now, although I only have this until 6)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2019 19:50:52 GMT -5
((Yikes!!!! That stinks!)
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Post by Myst on Sept 26, 2019 20:11:49 GMT -5
(I’m back in my room!! It took four hours because of work!)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 29, 2019 0:43:39 GMT -5
((*grovels for my laziness and less than helpful muse*))
Septimus sat people-watching and mindlessly scrolling through the internet on his phone, really he could be out doing something more productive but… To be frank, he really didn’t want to. So here he sat, passing time by playing random games on his phone he’d soon uninstall anyway. His attention was only grabbed by the sound of slowly raising voices. White-Emerald green eyes roamed about until they fell upon two servers, a young man looking flushed in embarrassment while the female, who seemed about his age was trying to be polite and apologize to a customer.
Narrowing his eyes, McKnight recognized the older man and his wife. The wife was glaring hotly at the female server, clearly believing her to be better than some help. The husband, on the other hand, wasn’t sneering in silence, rather he was now standing and snarling like a rabid dog at the female waitress while trying to get around her and to the obviously new waiter. Pursing his lips together, Septimus was a blur out of the corner of his eye, before it became clear who it was. Ah. Looks like the manager was on top of things, good.
‘Still, McKnight. An opportunity like this doesn’t often come your way. That is Harold Vance, after all.’ A sly voice pointed out quite helpfully. So, taking the voice to heart Septimus stood with the utmost grace and wandered a bit closer. Though nowhere close enough to get caught or in the way, of the inevitable fight. Phone out, he lazily raised it and snapped a picture or two before pressing record. Yes, he was having loads of fun and wasn’t against smirking smugly to have been an observer of this.
"Mr. Vance... This will make things between us so much easier now. I almost feel sorry for you," he murmured to himself, his shark-like grin contradicting what he was saying completely.
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Post by Myst on Sept 29, 2019 7:33:11 GMT -5
((It’s all good my dude! Tbh I’ve been helping family out a lot the past couple days lol also this is kind of lame I’m so sorry))
Jonah had fallen back into the kitchen after assuring the cafe’s newest team member that he would be more than able to handle today’s rush. He was still training a bit, but he seemed to be getting around well enough and the cafe operated like a family. Everyone had each other back, so he was sure the sever would be fine. It was maybe only half an hour before the sound of what could be considered impending doom in his eyes reached him from the main room. He’d already told one customer to leave, and that was uncommon enough. However having two problem people in one day was something.
Pulling off his apron he tossed it onto an unused table, briefly asking one of the others to finish up what he’d be doing on his way out. The closer he got to the floor the louder it seemed to get, and Jonah couldn’t tell if it wasn’t because they were genuinely getting louder or he was getting closer. Hazel eyes landing on the group, his jaw set. He didn’t know this man who was now causing a scene, nor his wife who seemed to be giving his staff the dirtiest look she could physically muster. Wonderful.
It didn’t take long for him to reach them, pulling the two back from the enraged man only put himself between them and customer. “Breaks, both of you, now.” He didn’t wait to see if they left, rather turning to face this new face with a slightly apologetic smile. A new face he wouldn’t have a problem with seeing in the ring... “Sir, I don’t know what the problem is, but I can assure you it doesn’t require yelling at my staff. I’m sure I can fix whatever seems to be the trouble, so I’ll need you to calm down and tell me what happened.” Did he want to be nice? No, not really. Was it in his nature? Definitely. Was it his job? Right now, sadly. He could imagine this wouldn’t go as smoothly as he wanted it to, although he couldn’t even take a guess at the possible outcome.
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Post by Myst on Oct 13, 2019 14:25:25 GMT -5
(Hi I miss you and I hope you’re doing okay!)
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2019 20:31:34 GMT -5
(Meep! I'll reply tonight. My grandma just died a few days ago, so been dealing with that.)
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Post by Myst on Oct 13, 2019 20:35:18 GMT -5
(Oh no hun I’m sorry!! Literally take your time and if you need/want to talk I’m here for you)
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2019 20:37:30 GMT -5
{{Thanks, I'm slowly getting back into things. Thought about a medieval plot at like 1 in the morning today. XD}}
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Post by Myst on Oct 13, 2019 20:42:50 GMT -5
(Honestly that’s just the biggest mood xD that’s always a good plotting hour)
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Post by Deleted on Oct 14, 2019 11:00:50 GMT -5
Harnold Vance was a rich man, when his wife finally had enough of his indecision the two decided to just go in this small cafe, Harmony’s Haven. A quaint little place, nothing like the usual star hotels they stayed at. Definitely nothing like their mansion of a home back in Florida with an ocean view people often gawk at. But, the cold was hitting them even through their expensive fur lined clothing and hunger gawned at them.
Entering the cafe, Mrs. vance seemed okay with it but Harnold was disgusted. So small and unrefined. He wanted out of their, but not his wife was determined and wouldn’t budge. Taking a seat they ordered these cakes and tea. When the food finally came it was okay, nothing to cheer about but nothing to necessarily complain about.
Then that foolish Waiter came with their tea and spilled it on his new suit! Already in a bad mood, he smiled as he decided to take it out on that weak good-for-nothing. As he stood to thrash the younger man, this female waitress darted over and blocked his path. He could feel his fury grow at being defied like this and started to snarl at this woman who darer intrude. Finally though, the last straw that broke the camel's back was when this manager suddenly showed up. So, he did what he wanted to do to the kid, he threw a punch.
Meanwhile, Spehtis had returned to his table and picked up his mask, turning it in his hand before slipping it back on. It wouldn’t do to have Vance see his face, not yet at least. Camera tucked away, the once again masked man took a seat and watched as the man- who had a seriously ugly toupee, took a swing at Mr. Caprireid.
{{Exactly.}}
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Post by Myst on Oct 14, 2019 11:57:42 GMT -5
(Okay so writing this I realized I’m not like the best at fight scenes so I’m sorry if this isn’t good)
It wasn't as if the manager was new to this. He was very much used to getting yelled at and forcing himself to contain his reactions. It was one of the few times he had a problem controlling his facial reactions at work. With him, how he felt tended to display well on his features and physical or verbal reactions were always all or nothing. Still, he'd learned to keep himself generally subdued when dealing with angry patrons. If all was normal, this would be no different. They'd exchange some words, likely brief, and then he'd be escorting the couple outside. Nothing more, nothing less.
Now, Jonah also was no stranger to fighting. Sure, he participated in MMA fights, but he'd been in a few bar fights. Men who thought they could either get him to move, tried to take something from him and the like. Despite his amiable nature, he was a force to be reckoned with when he was angry. It did take a lot for him to reach a breaking point, however, it took more to calm him down afterward. It either took the satisfaction of whatever situation it was or a lot of grounding techniques. He tended to lose all sense of forethought when he was angry, though he didn't quite blackout. Everything was just pure reaction, letting himself do the first thing that came to mind, and it typically wasn't the best choice.
So here he stood, hoping he could rely on the typical outcome as he stared at the enraged man. Despite his mildly apologetic smile, his jaw was set and the rest of his body was visibly tense. It registered a second after the other's hand was in motion that he wouldn't be experiencing the typical result of this situation. The feeling of the man's fist connecting with his jaw and just catching part of his cheek was sharp and it was only a second later the pain was radiating through the rest of his back. His head snapped a bit to the side as one foot slid back both with the force of the blow as well as to ground himself. There was a brief moment where Jonah just stood there, absorbing the fact that he did, in fact, get punched on the job.
In this moment, he could taste the blood in his mouth from what he would later find to be a gash on his inner check from his teeth. "What a cheap shot," He muttered, his naturally relaxed demeanor replaced with anger and a fighter’s intent to do damage. Falling into his typical offensive stance he swung back, aiming for Mr. Vance's gut. What he really wanted was to pull him down by the shoulder and knee him in the face, but a good gut punch could make that a bit easier to accomplish.
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Post by Myst on Nov 5, 2019 12:38:04 GMT -5
(Hey my dude, I'm not really sure what's going on, but can you just let me know if you still wanna do this?)
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Post by Deleted on Nov 5, 2019 13:19:45 GMT -5
{{Sorry, I've been putting this off because I can't seem to get the muse for it. }}
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