[He furrows a brow.] No, I'm not magic, but I am "a little off".
[Wait, does that make him sound like he's admitting that he's crazy? He mentally backpedals.] What I mean to say is, I'm not just a normal person. And I assumed since you were going on about magic, you might know something about some cafe door around here...?
[She works there? Maybe he was more fortunate than he thought. He straightens visibly, with sparked interest.
...An eagerness which he reels in a little, when she says that he's going about this all wrong. Jake wonders if that's true, or if this girl is messing with him. (Something tells him she might be the type, from brief first impressions alone.)]
And let me guess, you're going to tell me how or why that is? Because if you do work there, I figure I've just found my ticket in.
You know, you could have your own entrance. It doesn't have to be here.
[She starts off in the opposite direction though and motions Jake to follow. He's being persistent and if he wants to talk with Iona, the witch can deal with it.]
[He pauses only briefly when she motions at him to follow, but when he realizes that so far she's his best bet of finding the Midnight Grind, he figures he has nothing to lose. He follows a couple of feet behind her; if there's one thing Jake is, it's persistent.]
[Jake frowns at the names -- Oren sounds like the guy who didn't speak much, from what he remembers being told. But Iona? He doesn't remember Morgan mentioning that name.]
Then how's a reliable way to look for it?
And also... is there a woman named Jackie who works there, too?
Guess she was feeling more reluctant... Anyways, that doesn't matter. I guess what matters is that trying to pin down an entrance isn't very reliable. For all you know, you could have missed it when it was in the back of your house.
Wait, the same person? [A flash of confusion that's washed away the moment he hears her say something about being "reluctant". Something tells him that maybe she was being wary of Morgan, for whatever reason. (He can think of a few off the top of his head.) What did his brother do or say?]
Huh. [But he leaves it at that. It's not important to the task at hand right now.] Okay, but that doesn't help my current predicament; as an employee, can you bring me there?
[They're outside and Monts is opting to choose a spot where some of the storage trucks are in the back of the shopping center. No one's around since it's almost noon so it's a perfect spot. She reaches into her pocket, taking out a clear card and holding it up to her eyes looking critically for a second...]
... There it is.
[Blink and one could miss it; a gilded door is there, contrasting against the dull wall of the building. There's a sort of warmth that radiates off of it as if inviting them to come inside.]
[He huffs but he'll be patient for now -- he follows her, to behind some storage trucks and crosses his arms again, watching her use a strange, clear card.
And then he looks up, and there's a door there, against the wall of the building. (Was that there just a millisecond ago? Wouldn't he have seen or heard it appear?)]
...Might've been easier for me if I had a fancy card, too.
[Okay, that deserves an eye roll, and he obliges.]
Think you're too young for me anyway, kid. [Yes, he called her "kid" even though she's not really one. And even if he's only 31, he's still the oldest of his own personal group of five, and they're quick to point that out to him.
Not that he cares. He'll play up the older, more mature guy all day long.]
[She glances around to make sure no one's looking as she puts her hand on the doorknob... And slowly opens it. There's the sound of a door jingle and she takes a step inside.]
... C'mon in.
[And there's the cafe, somehow located in the back of a shopping center. But the space wouldn't make sense. It's filled with tables and chairs, a sofa, soft and warm lights, the smell of coffee and tea.
[He follows, the jingle registering in his mind as he steps through the entrance, but he ignores it -- he's too busy looking around, as the door closes softly behind him. It's nice. There's no doubt about that. It reminds him of a few rooms in the mansion, a few reading lounges or smaller studies. The ones that he gravitated towards.
Jake could see himself spending time here, if the situation allowed it. But right now, he isn't sure that he should be entertaining such an idea at all. And so, he just says:]
Nice place. [He's looking around at the customers too, a bit warily, with unknown consideration. It's hard to tell what he's thinking.] Definitely a cafe; smells like coffee.
[He follows her with his gaze but chooses not to respond, crossing over to the counter and taking a seat. And if anyone gives him a weird glance on the way, he just raises his brow in return, as if saying "what?"
He settles in and puts his elbows on the countertop, and waits.]
[It doesn't seem like Iona's there. Instead it's Oren who walks out when Monts calls. He's tall, at leas 6 feet in height. And definitely not normal looking.
Monts, who's been at the Grind long enough is no longer swayed by Oren's looks (because let's be real, you're around him enough and it's not effective) and talks to him, gesturing at Jake. Oren glances at him with his eerie eyes (a knowing look) and then turns his attention to Monts. What are they talking about?
Well, about certain customers who they may have to look out for. Just in case.]
[Jake eyes the man as he steps out from the back -- tall, unnaturally pretty, not very expressive. Exactly as Morgan had described to him, and he was willing to bet that this was Oren.
He can't hear what they're talking about, but Jake is keen enough to tell from the glances in his direction that they're discussing him. He shifts in his seat, not out of discomfort, but a nagging impatience that he's trying to keep in check. He raps his fingers against the countertop, waiting. His eyes land on a salt shaker next to him that had fallen on its side. Without thinking, Jake fixes it, setting it upright, an idle action to help funnel his anxiousness through.
He does this, of course, by merely looking at it, then leans back and glances around the cafe like it was nothing; because here, truly, it was just that. Nothing. He can already tell from the customers here that he's just a drop in the odd, supernatural, or otherwise magical bucket. For some unknown reason, this just seems to disquiet him even more.]
[I'm not here for pleasure, is what Jake wants to say, but the smell of coffee is terribly tempting here. He pauses, feeling conflicted (over something so minuscule) before he just gives a nod at Oren.
Oren, who was quite hard to read. So Jake also makes kind of a frowny face without realizing it, trying to puzzle this guy out.]
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He doesn't uncross his arms, but he speaks with a bit more... congeniality than before, though it still has a slight edge to it.]
Fine. I asked if you were talking about magic, because if you are of the magically inclined, you might have be able to help me with something.
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She leans forward into his space as if inspecting him although there's a mocking manner about it, given her low hum and all.]
I'm not much of a magic person really...
... You? You're definitely a little off, but not magic either.
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[Wait, does that make him sound like he's admitting that he's crazy? He mentally backpedals.] What I mean to say is, I'm not just a normal person. And I assumed since you were going on about magic, you might know something about some cafe door around here...?
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[Monts sighs as if disappointed. She's just playin' of course and just crosses her arms at him.]
Word of mouth I take it?
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Jake can keep his arms crossed all day, okay. He's an expert at standoffish body language.]
Yeah, word of mouth. From my brother. [Which is the problem, actually.] I need to find this Midnight Grind place because I need to talk to the owner.
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[And the one person standing between him and the door.]
I will say that you're going about your search all wrong.
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...An eagerness which he reels in a little, when she says that he's going about this all wrong. Jake wonders if that's true, or if this girl is messing with him. (Something tells him she might be the type, from brief first impressions alone.)]
And let me guess, you're going to tell me how or why that is? Because if you do work there, I figure I've just found my ticket in.
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You know, you could have your own entrance. It doesn't have to be here.
[She starts off in the opposite direction though and motions Jake to follow. He's being persistent and if he wants to talk with Iona, the witch can deal with it.]
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What do you mean, 'my own entrance'?
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What I'm saying is, is that just because your brother found a way in here, doesn't mean you'd find the same way in.
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Then how's a reliable way to look for it?
And also... is there a woman named Jackie who works there, too?
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[Monts clucks her tongue.]
Guess she was feeling more reluctant... Anyways, that doesn't matter. I guess what matters is that trying to pin down an entrance isn't very reliable. For all you know, you could have missed it when it was in the back of your house.
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Huh. [But he leaves it at that. It's not important to the task at hand right now.] Okay, but that doesn't help my current predicament; as an employee, can you bring me there?
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[They're outside and Monts is opting to choose a spot where some of the storage trucks are in the back of the shopping center. No one's around since it's almost noon so it's a perfect spot. She reaches into her pocket, taking out a clear card and holding it up to her eyes looking critically for a second...]
... There it is.
[Blink and one could miss it; a gilded door is there, contrasting against the dull wall of the building. There's a sort of warmth that radiates off of it as if inviting them to come inside.]
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And then he looks up, and there's a door there, against the wall of the building. (Was that there just a millisecond ago? Wouldn't he have seen or heard it appear?)]
...Might've been easier for me if I had a fancy card, too.
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Employees only. I could have also brought you to my entrance at my place, but quite frankly you're not my type.
[MONTS?!]
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Think you're too young for me anyway, kid. [Yes, he called her "kid" even though she's not really one. And even if he's only 31, he's still the oldest of his own personal group of five, and they're quick to point that out to him.
Not that he cares. He'll play up the older, more mature guy all day long.]
Can we go in now?
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... C'mon in.
[And there's the cafe, somehow located in the back of a shopping center. But the space wouldn't make sense. It's filled with tables and chairs, a sofa, soft and warm lights, the smell of coffee and tea.
It's comforting in all the right ways.]
Welcome to the Midnight Grind.
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Jake could see himself spending time here, if the situation allowed it. But right now, he isn't sure that he should be entertaining such an idea at all. And so, he just says:]
Nice place. [He's looking around at the customers too, a bit warily, with unknown consideration. It's hard to tell what he's thinking.] Definitely a cafe; smells like coffee.
[captain obvious here.]
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[Monts says dryly as she moves to the counter. She calls over her shoulder to Jake.]
Just take a seat and I'll see if Iona's here. If not, you're talking to Oren.
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He settles in and puts his elbows on the countertop, and waits.]
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Monts, who's been at the Grind long enough is no longer swayed by Oren's looks (because let's be real, you're around him enough and it's not effective) and talks to him, gesturing at Jake. Oren glances at him with his eerie eyes (a knowing look) and then turns his attention to Monts. What are they talking about?
Well, about certain customers who they may have to look out for. Just in case.]
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He can't hear what they're talking about, but Jake is keen enough to tell from the glances in his direction that they're discussing him. He shifts in his seat, not out of discomfort, but a nagging impatience that he's trying to keep in check. He raps his fingers against the countertop, waiting. His eyes land on a salt shaker next to him that had fallen on its side. Without thinking, Jake fixes it, setting it upright, an idle action to help funnel his anxiousness through.
He does this, of course, by merely looking at it, then leans back and glances around the cafe like it was nothing; because here, truly, it was just that. Nothing. He can already tell from the customers here that he's just a drop in the odd, supernatural, or otherwise magical bucket. For some unknown reason, this just seems to disquiet him even more.]
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Speaking of Oren, he approaches Jake, all calm, all serene.]
Drink first?
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Oren, who was quite hard to read. So Jake also makes kind of a frowny face without realizing it, trying to puzzle this guy out.]
...Some coffee, I guess.
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1/2
2/3 i lied
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