sweethymns | OC POST

A) Midnight Grind

[The Midnight Grind cafe has a lot of psychic visitors and their most prominent psychic customer is Ai Thao Kha, not only due to her immense powers and abilities but for her equally immense appetite. She's currently finishing off a large bowl of hot french fries and the potatoes are disappearing at an alarming rate. If you join her, she might even share!

She'll probably just order more food.]

B) Rainy Day

[In some city, somewhere with bright neon lights, there's some medium to heavy rainfall occuring at night. Ai Thao has taken some shelter, or what little there is of it, under an overhang outside of a restaurant. She's holding a heavy bag full of takeout, but she isn't hurrying home yet. Her long hair is damp and she's leaning against the wall, humming a song to herself.]

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain
Telling me just what a fool I've been...

C) Wildcard/Other

[Something, something, happens.]

A) Midnight Grind

[ Lien Kha doesn't eat as much as her twin (clone) sister Ai Thao, but her appetite is healthy enough. Her light lunch of the day is delicious Croque Monsieur sandwich with a light salad and iced tea. Her eyes are glued to a large textbook... Which she's finished and is stacking it on top of other related texts and starting on a new one.

Is she actually reading it?]

B) Mysterious Apartment

[It's quiet in this urban area. Lien is standing outside an abandoned apartment complex, furrowing her brows. There's been a reported murder, but like most of her cases, the murder aspect isn't straightforward... She's walking around the perimeter, trying to find the entrance.]

Hm... And I haven't seen anyone come out yet...

... Maybe I should throw a rock at the window.

C) Wildcard/Other

[Something, something, happens.]

Edited 2019-04-01 02:00 (UTC)

I'm looking for someone.

[ Apropos of nothing, without warning or greeting.

It's a quiet day in the Grind when an unexpected visitor walks through its front door, shaking light afternoon drizzle from the brim of his hat. He's framed like a young man— gangly limbs, sharp edges— but he has the settled calm of someone twice his age. It's hard to place him: is he in his late teens? Early 20s?

Either way, Kei has one hand in his pocket, his broad shoulders tensed into a half-slouch; the other hand is fiddling with an outdated flip-phone, tracing its outlines with practiced concentration. ]

A young woman. Medium-cut hair, green eyes. Around 5 foot 6 or so.

[Lien blinks at the unexpected visitor who presents his conundrum. There aren't very many customers aside from a few others, plus herself. The others are ignoring the man since, hey, they know that Lien is the weird psychic PI here, not them.

She's drinking a peach strawberry tea with honey boba right now and she's kind of slurping them loudly. The caramel brown spheres go through the straw, making a soft popping sound before she releases her mouth from it and looks up at the guy.]

Right.

[She leans back, drink resting on her lap.]

Are we talking, lover, mother, sister, relative, friend, companion, or the other barista at this cafe?

[ Kei is a psychic PI too, in his own right, even if he'd be hard-pressed to call himself that. Being able to "talk" to machinery doesn't exactly qualify him as a psychic, he thinks— he's just weird, really.

He doesn't move to sit. Instead, he lingers by the table, flip-phone still turning against his palm. ]

Her brother's looking for her.

[ A missing person. A common job, but an important one. ]

She hasn't been home in a week.

Mm. Can't say I've seen someone of that description here in the past week... There are all sorts here that pass through, but those details probably wouldn't be enough.

[She crosses her arms exhaling through her nose as if thinking deeply.]

And even if she was, I think the owner and the employees would have met her instead...? Want me to ask?

[Noting the flip phone, Lien's blue eyes move from the older technology to Kei's face.]

Although I have a question of my own.

What's the date and time today?

Edited 2019-04-01 03:57 (UTC)

A) Midnight Grind

Welcome to the Midnight Grind! Take your seat, I'll be there with you in a minute.

[You enter a cafe... That seems normal enough. Although your door may have appeared outside an obscure wall, inside of a building, or even in a forest, it leads to the same place. The inside is warm and cozy. Wooden floors and wooden furniture, the smell of coffee and baked goods wafts through the air and the company is pleasant, full of people from all sorts of places. The owner, Iona Oakes, wipes her brow, sweating from all the work she's been doing for the past few hours. But she greets everyone with a big smile. She says, "It's been a while," or "Welcome back!" to her regulars. But if you're someone she hasn't seen before...]

Are you new here? The first order is on the house!

B) Wildcard/Other

[Something, something, happens.]

Edited 2019-04-01 05:42 (UTC)

[ He's about to tell Lien that he can ask the others on his own, but the question is cause for hesitation. He scrutinizes her, eyes narrowing just a fraction, before he opens his mouth again.

The date he gives her is an approximation to the current date, but a year or so behind. The truth of the flipphone is that he's from Iceland, and he's not in the company of very affluent people, really. ]

Why do you ask.

[ Holmes is here to see Lien, on her suggestion that they reunite somewhere "nice and cozy".

But he's also not going to say that, so: ]

Something strong, I think. A mellow red.

[ Without even looking at the menu. THERE'S NO WINE HERE!!! HOLMES!! ]

Edited 2019-04-03 01:26 (UTC)

Okay, got it! Mellow red... Oh. Wait?

[Iona backtracks, with her tray under her arm, looking curiously at Holmes, sort of confused by the order. The scent of cinnamon is strong about her and there's flour under her fingernails that couldn't escape handwashing after rolling out dough for cinnamon rolls.]

Red... Oh, you mean red wine? Haven't gotten an order like that in a while.

[It is her fault that they never have a set menu, therefore people seem to order whatever they want.]

Well, if you're sure you want to order from a cafe without a proper liquor license...

[Lien is afflicted with the curse of bluntness. But to be fair, they are in a space where disbelief is quickly dismantled once a customer gets a hint that things are not what they seem.]

Well, you see sometimes this cafe gets all sorts so if you were like from the 80s or 90s or something, I wanted to see if I could blow your mind with my smart phone...

... But since this is obviously a semi-serious situation! [Lien, there's a missing person, it's 100% serious]

I guess it doesn't matter! I just thought you were some old man or something with that flip phone.

A) Midnight Grind

[When it isn't Iona or Oren who greets customers, the job is left to Monts who is different from the cheerful ray of sunshine and the stoicism of the golem.]

C'mon in. No need to be shy, we don't bite.

[She'll lead the customer to the table and there's a pause before she blithely adds:]

Well... I can't say the same for me...

[She's just being playful, don't worry (too much)]

Mm, enough of that then. What would you like to start off with?

B) The Night is Dark, The Lights are Bright

[It's one of those rare weekends where Monts decides to go revisit an old pastime of hers, that being clubbing. The music is loud, the dance floor is flooded, and Marianna is dressed elegantly for the setting. She's sitting at the bar, hair tied back up in a small ponytail and bobbing her head to the beat of the club music. A drink is slid her way and she raises a brow and looks around, trying to see who bought her the cocktail. A less than scrupulous man from across the bar counter winks at her.

She frowns. Shrugs. Takes a sip. Then wrinkles her nose before turning to the person sitting next to her.]

Ugh. Tastes like roofies to me.

C) Wildcard/Other

[Something, something, happens.]

Midnight Grind

[Nikola's become a regular of the Midnight Grind lately. Her drinks vary from visit to visit, ranging anywhere from sweet to bitter, and everything in between. In contrast, her lunch/late night dinner order has been mostly consistent.

So if you happen to be visiting late at night, you'll see Oren bring out a carb-laden plate of black bean noodles with a luxurious amount of toppings and a dry-faced young woman eagerly eyeing the meal. One can only tell she's excited by the way her eyes glint as the steam rises from the plate.

If she catches you looking, there's an awkward pause of sorts before she speaks up and says:]

If you want something and you don't know if they have it on the menu, just ask. I'm sure they got enough to make the same thing I'm having if that's what you're thinking about.

B) Suddenly Part of Your World

[There's a lovely pastel lolita dress that Nikola's had her eye on, but after looking at her bank account and realizing it's a little over budget, she inwardly groans. This just means she'll have to take on an extra client or two in order to cover costs for her hobby, rent, AND taking care of her dog. Being an adult is hard, especially in a world where people clearly don't pay enough for her to put herself in danger when exploring the void.

The raiding is going rather well until a mirror in one of the buildings catches her eye. As if her body decides to move on its own, she touches it...

And falls straight through it, onto the floor of whoever is unfortunate enough to have a small masked lady crash into their residence.]

...

...

... [Nikola stands up straightening out her mussed up hair and readjusts her lopsided mask. She stares unnervingly at whoever is in front of her and then holds up her fingers.]

Peace, peace.

[Well, she doesn't mean harm at least.]

C) Wildcard/Other

[Something, something, happens.]

[For once, Kojirou had some money to spend after going on a few cases and getting paid. Why not hit up the nightlife and see what was going on? Not only were clubs a good place to mingle, he could keep an ear on the floor for any new pursuits that he could take on. Monts was a definitely a familiar face, so he sits next to her... And was she getting into some trouble again? Well, it was a good thing he came by.]

That's why you need a second tongue for times like this.

[He'll take a sip from her drink and visibly sticks out his tongue. Kojirou wasn't surprised at all that there were guys like that around here.]

Ugh... Drug test reads positive. This is the oldest trick in the book.

[She could have had worse company and Monts figures Kojirou who she's somewhat acquainted with after their first encounter would do as a deterrent.

After he takes a sip from her glass and watches his reaction, she looks back down at it. Shrugs.

And drinks the whole concoction in one shot and takes exhales deeply.]

Well, thankfully for me, it doesn't do anything. Not that I, know by experience or anything.

[She's half-joking. But seriously, poisons and toxins do no harm to her.]

Show off. And here I thought that I was doing a pure and noble deed.

["Pure" and "Kojirou" really didn't go together in the same sentence, but he was trying to look out for her there. How could he call himself a detective if he didn't have a sense of justice? He almost forgot about her body is different from other people. The good news was that he didn't have to resort using the M-Word. His mind was still wrapping around the idea of a materializing cafe.]

How have you been holding up? Looks like trouble still has a way of finding you.

[Monts brushes a strand of hair behind her ear while idly flagging down the bartender to order another drink before answering him.]

The days are peacefully boring. That's probably the best case scenario for anyone, isn't it?

As for trouble, I just take it in stride like I always do. I'm sturdy after all.

If you can say that, then you're definitely happy. It's the busy ones who usually wish for boring.

[Asides a few spikes in work every now and then, Kojirou was taking it easy as usual.]

If I've had a ounce of toughness you had, I'd be weightlifting cars like Superman. [Whenever bartender arrives, he'll make a gesture over to them.] I'll have what she's having. On the rocks.

If you were tough like me and lifting like Superman, then you'd probably be more popular with girls.

[She's being playful in her jabbing, honest!

Her drink is called a "Bramble." Gin, blackcurrant liqueur, lemon, simple syrup, and lots of crushed ice. Monts seems a little amused that he's ordering the same thing as her.]

Speaking of, were you trying to find me or is this just an honest coincidence?

[They’re back at Michael’s apartment, small and sometimes messy thing that it can be. But the young man tries to keep up with appearances when Iona’s over, never quite wanting to suffer through the embarrassment of a hideously untidy living space, despite the close affection wound between them in the time that they’ve been dating. He always wants to impress in his quiet sort of way, embarrassingly fond, silently smitten, but all wound up in his core to be shown more visibly in the quiet moments between them.

He approaches her perch on the couch, coming out from his bedroom with a smile, camera held in his hands. An item she should be well familiar with by now.]

Hey. Let me take some pictures of you.

[He comes in, cut in the color of blood, red soaked into dark tailored clothes and splattered across his skin. It sticks in his hair, brown strands plastered against his forehead and temple. Pearly-white mixes with crimson, implying injury on his own person, but it’s hard to tell where or how. Vincent doesn’t say; is wordless when he enters the establishment, putting his weapons to the side as per the rules. They’re messy, bladed edges still red and his pistol flecked with the same hue.

A silent stride to the counter, seating himself on a stool. He’s not sure why he’s come here, other than perhaps there’s a need for familiarity in the wake of such violence, something to fill his human (not human) spirit up when it’s been hollowed out with base, surreal instinct.

Monts is here, too. He can see her working, her back turned to him. Vincent only sits and waits until he’s noticed. His aura, the tinge of other that always surrounds him, repels curious gazes because he wills it, nothing more — he cannot abide by social niceties right now.]

[Stoic, stolid—]

So that you can alert who’s in there to our presence?

[He stands, LED a steady blue, shoulders straight and expression placid. But there’s something utterly unimpressed in his tone, the uptick of a brow proof of that.]

I’m going to have to throw your investigative skills into question if you’re already having trouble finding the entrance. Do you require me to take over?

Mm?

[Iona looks up from her textbooks and notes as Michael approaches. She had come over to visit her boyfriend, but also be productive by studying for her classes and just enjoy being in the vicinity of Michael. They've been going steady for a while and it's grown into a comfortable companionship that the witch treasures more than anything at the moment.

To Iona, Michael is a guy who doesn't ask for much and tends to be very shy when he does assert himself. So when he comes out with his camera and his request, she blinks and tilts her head curiously.]

Right now? Is it for something special or a spur of the moment kind of thing?

[The tone of her voice is peppered with some amusement; she wonders what's on his mind right now to want to take pictures of her.]

Listen.

[Her gestures are exaggerated as she swaggers and pats her chest proudly.]

I simply vocalize the most stupid ideas so that we're clear that I obviously won't do just that.

[usually]

Anyways, this apartment is weird. I got a list of residents that used to live here with their room numbers from my sources, but apparently, they've been spotted coming in and out of the building.

Getting in would be our first priority and since you offered so nicely, I'll let you look first before I blow my brains out trying to look for a door.

OC POST

Ai Thao Kha | ESPER

Lien Kha | Psychometer

c.

no subject

no subject

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Iona J. Oakes | Cafe Witch

no subject

a.

no subject

1/2

no subject

Marianna "Monts" Medina | Floral Terror

Nikola Chang | Snake Eyes

B

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

wildcard

Sort of a, sort of wildcard

B

no subject

no subject