Who: Ilsa, Keita, Anyone (after opening)
When: Early-late morning
Where: Sugared
What: Ilsa comes back, meets a new coworker, and learns an unwelcome bit of news
Rating: PG
Status: Open, In Progress
Ilsa woke before the sun, but although she'd arrived home very late the night before, this wasn't unexpected.
She was impatient for the day to start. She missed town.
Odd, that. She'd been anchored off-shore for two weeks, yes, but craving the sea all the while. These breaks of hers were merely necessary - the smallest consolation, and so very far from enough. So if the horizon were always catching her eye, it wasn't supposed to be the one with skyscrapers. It would be infuriating if it weren't so ridiculous.
She dressed sleepily in the dark, and drove to Sugared in the pre-dawn light. The morning had a soft grey quality, moody but not sad; comfortable, quiet. She rather wished someone would make some damn noise. None of her kin had visited her (and she was glad of it), so she'd had no one but fish to talk to for two weeks. She was rather looking forward to the first few customers.
Ilsa reached the shop as the sun rose. She wasn't surprised to find it closed - she wasn't the only one to work mornings, but she'd come a little early today, as she planned to leave a little earlier, too, if Amelia didn't mind staying.
She stepped into the kitchens, turned the radio to something loud and gloriously obnoxious, and started on the cinnamon rolls.
When: Early-late morning
Where: Sugared
What: Ilsa comes back, meets a new coworker, and learns an unwelcome bit of news
Rating: PG
Status: Open, In Progress
Ilsa woke before the sun, but although she'd arrived home very late the night before, this wasn't unexpected.
She was impatient for the day to start. She missed town.
Odd, that. She'd been anchored off-shore for two weeks, yes, but craving the sea all the while. These breaks of hers were merely necessary - the smallest consolation, and so very far from enough. So if the horizon were always catching her eye, it wasn't supposed to be the one with skyscrapers. It would be infuriating if it weren't so ridiculous.
She dressed sleepily in the dark, and drove to Sugared in the pre-dawn light. The morning had a soft grey quality, moody but not sad; comfortable, quiet. She rather wished someone would make some damn noise. None of her kin had visited her (and she was glad of it), so she'd had no one but fish to talk to for two weeks. She was rather looking forward to the first few customers.
Ilsa reached the shop as the sun rose. She wasn't surprised to find it closed - she wasn't the only one to work mornings, but she'd come a little early today, as she planned to leave a little earlier, too, if Amelia didn't mind staying.
She stepped into the kitchens, turned the radio to something loud and gloriously obnoxious, and started on the cinnamon rolls.