ʀᴀғᴇ ᴀúʟʟᴀ ᴀ ʟᴀ sᴏᴍʙʀᴀ ᴅᴇ (maginus) wrote in repose, @ 2020-07-07 14:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, oona murphy, rafe jiménez |
LOG: RAFE & OONA.
Who: Rafe Jiménez & Oona Murphy.
What: Trying an unconventional ice cream.
Where: I Scream Shoppe.
When: Right after this.
Warnings/Rating: None for now, will update if that changes.
It wasn't what he had planned to do with his day, to say the least, and yet it still wasn't right up there with the strangest experiences in his life. Considering what did rank near the top of that list tasting an unusual ice cream flavour was downright pedestrian, and even rather pleasant, all things considered. It certainly could have been worse. Much, much worse.
After parking his vehicle and checking his phone one last time to confirm the location of his destination, he made short work of crossing the street after a brisk check for traffic and made a beeline for 1st Street, down which he would find the place he was looking for. Repose wasn't a particularly large town so it had been easy enough to track down, figuratively speaking, and a quick search on his phone had brought up the address. Odds were he had passed the place more than once, possibly even countless times, but he had never actually ventured inside.
Until today, that was.
Dressed simply in a pair of dark blue jeans, scuffed black boots, and a black tee (not exactly an imaginative outfit but there were always more important things to spend his time and energy on) he covered the distance from the junction from Main Street to I Scream's front door in next to no time at all. It was a old-fashioned sort of place, aesthetically speaking, with an antique sort of feel to it that he supposed went well with the use of the word Shoppe in its name. It was almost reminiscent of the sort of store fronts one might expect to see in a period piece set in Victorian England. The thought made Rafe smile briefly before he headed through the front door and into the establishment.
Even before he had set foot inside the smells of the place had gotten to work on overwhelming him, sugary and sour and rich and everything in between. It was nothing he couldn't handle, of course, but it was powerful to say the least and it would take him a minute to adjust and filter through it so that he could pick out anything beyond sweet. Looks-wise the place matched its exterior pretty well. It made him wonder just how old the building really was, or if the whole thing was a facade just how much it had cost to achieve it.
There was a young couple at the counter when he got in there and he waited, hands casually pushed into his pockets even when the pair ahead of him moved along, order fulfilled, and he could move up to the counter. The young woman on the other side might have been exactly who he was looking for but rather than making assumptions, and making himself look a fool in the process, he said instead, "I'm looking for Oona."