through the fog (throughthefog) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-07-07 09:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, charlie, charlie x luis |
Who: Charlie and Luis
When: Morning, Monday, October 31
Where: The teachers' lounge
Status: Complete
Luis’ office had been relatively quiet; he tended to get inundated with students mostly toward the end of the school year, when plenty of them decided that they were not to blame for their grades, the teachers were, and they wanted a referee who they hoped would be on their side. Which—a few of them had a point. The larger part of them… not so much. For the time being, however, his desk was mostly full of the early college applicants, recommendation letters, the works, and while it was important and he took it very seriously, it was among the easier parts of his job.
It did, however, require every brain cell he had, so Luis had made his way to the teachers’ lounge for a cup of coffee. Something the coffee machine seemed to disagree with, spluttering and complaining until he had pressed the button an approximate half a dozen times—and it spit out coffee, finally, when his cup was nowhere near, splattering over the place and staining his shirt. “One day I will start a bake sale to replace this infernal machine,” he muttered, to no one in particular, then took a deep breath and started dabbing at the stains on his shirt with the nearest napkin.
Charlie had stepped into the teacher's lounge just as the coffee machine protested the mild abuse and stained Luis's shirt with coffee. She smiled and walked over to find her own coffee mug on the counter. "It's an antique, isn't it," she said. "I'm starting to think it might be worth it to just bring in Joyland Coffee every morning, if only to avoid the possibility of the coffee machine attacking half of the staff. Cold water will get those stains out, by the way." Charlie raised a brow, trying to stifle her amusement. "Do you need some help getting it to work?"
Looking up from his lackluster dabbing when Charlie spoke, Luis huffed a laugh. “Antique is a very kind word for it.” Luis heaved something of a sigh as he considered whether spending the rest of the day in a stained shirt was worse than spending it in a wet one, should he try to clean it out in the sink. He wasn’t happy with either option, but... “I think it is motivated only by personal spite, and refuses to spit out coffee until I am sufficiently aggravated,” Luis pointed out, half-heartedly glaring at the machine, before he flashed Charlie a grateful smile. “I would very much appreciate the help. If you know what magic to work on this machine.”
Setting her mug down, Charlie chuckled softly and walked over to the coffee machine. "Magic has nothing to do with it," she explained, amused as she picked up Luis's coffee cup to place under the spot. "I think you just need to be gentle. Treat her with some respect. Some smooth talk probably won't hurt." She switched out the k-cup with another and made sure there was plenty of water. It wasn't terribly cooperative with Charlie either, but it only took two presses of the button to finally get the machine to whirl into action and coffee began to pour smoothly into the coffee cup below. "There you go," she said, stepping back and motioning to the machine. "I'm sorry about your shirt. But you know, wet spots will dry. Coffee stains are forever."
“Maybe it’s my inability to smooth talk that stands between me and a proper cup of coffee,” Luis told her, and it was with obvious amusement that he spoke. “But I firmly believe it’s witchcraft at play here.” He stepped back towards the machine again, for his own cup of coffee, and toasted Charlie as a thank you gesture. “That’s a fair point.” He pressed the tissue against his shirt one last time, then balled it up and tossed it in the nearest waste basket. “It feels like something’s wrong, like it’s in the air, this week,” Luis said, by way of conversation, because it did, but then again, it almost always did, in this town. “Maybe that’s what has gotten into the machine as well.”
"Don't be so hard on yourself. Coffee machines just need a little finesse. I'm sure tomorrow you'll be able to brew your own cup of coffee without any trouble." Charlie went back to fixing her own coffee, adding a bit of sugar. She glanced at Luis, her soft smile slipping just a touch before she began to stir her coffee. Was it too cynical of her to say that there was always something wrong in the air in this town? Throwing the plastic coffee stirrer in the trash, Charlie picked up her coffee cup and turned to face Luis a bit more directly. "If this town is starting to affect appliances, we're all screwed," she said, a hint of amusement still evident in her tone.
“I appreciate your faith in me, but… I can’t say I am quite as optimistic.” Luis laughed softly, to hide the grimace at the thought that he would give a repeat performance of coffee stains the next day. “There’s an old Stephen King movie—” Luis couldn’t remember the title of it, and brought his fresh cup of coffee to his lips as he thought it over, “Where all the appliances come to life and start murdering people. If that happens, it is this coffee machine that will come for me, I know it.” Another sip of coffee, appreciating the warmth and caffeine, and Luis tilted his head to the side thoughtfully before he spoke again. “And we are in Maine, after all. I wouldn’t be too surprised.”
Charlie's brows raised as she sipped her coffee. Then she nodded and laughed. "Maximum Overdrive. I remember my dad watching that movie when I was younger. I only remember Emilio Estevez was in it, and there was a horrible scene at the beginning where a bridge begins to raise and the cars start to fall into the water. If that were to happen here, yes, I would say the coffee machine would scald you to death for the abuse you've inflicted upon it." Charlie shook her head. "We're in Maine, yes, but... we're not Castle Rock, so maybe you'll be okay. But make sure to unplug the coffee machine when you're done using it, just in case. You never know.
“That’s the one!” Luis’ face lit up with recognition, and he laughed. “I only remember someone somehow got killed by a murderous soda machine. It was definitely one of Stephen King’s finer, more subtle works.” Said with his amusement bleeding into his tone, before he shot Charlie a look, his glasses already low on his nose, both eyebrows raised. “Abuse I inflicted? I have been trying to be nothing but kind to this machine,” Luis insisted, and sipped his laboriously won cup of coffee. “This might as well be Castle Rock, for all I know. Can you honestly say you’d be surprised if it were?”
Charlie chuckled and sipped her coffee again, trying to remember more about that particular movie. The bridge stood out to her, and the large semi with the creepy, green goblin face attached to the grill. She knew this was a light conversation, and one she was enjoying given the heaviness of the past couple of weeks, but it was a bit unnerving to think of Point Pleasant as anything like a fictional town of horror. Then again... "I suppose I wouldn't be too surprised," she admitted. "Strange things have definitely happened here that no one seems to be able to explain. I mean, beyond uncooperative coffee machines, of course. A boring day is usually a welcome one, if you ask me."
Luis nodded his agreement, a small, amused smile on his face. He didn’t want to voice that it was always something going on in this town, because it was too dreadful to think about, and he preferred the quiet days. “It really is. Is that a sign of age?” Luis grimaced at the thought, as if he weren’t greying already. “The way things are going, I’ll be taking up knitting and enjoying it much sooner than I’d like.” He paused. “Unless we have a pottery course around here, but I have a feeling it wouldn’t turn out quite like the Patrick Swayze movie in this place.” Another sip of his coffee, letting the caffeine slowly hit his system, and he tilted his head to the side. “Not that I would enjoy ghostly Patrick Swayze, I don’t think.”
"Speak for yourself," Charlie shot back good naturedly. She refused to believe boring equaled a good day because she was getting old, but because "exciting" days in Point Pleasant usually meant someone had disappeared or had gotten hurt. She sipped her coffee, arching one dark brow in amusement. "Oh boy, now I've got the Righteous Brothers singing in my head. I'll go ahead and ask my mother if there are any pottery courses at the senior center. You'll have a blast there, Luis. They play Bingo every Wednesday night, you know."
“Are you turning down the knitting or Patrick Swayze? This is a very important distinction.” There was an amused smirk curling up his lips, one that he hid only very barely behind the rim of his coffee cup. “The thrill of bingo might be too much for my old heart. And arthritic joints.” But he couldn’t deny—the idea of a quiet week sounded … just about heavenly. As much as he enjoyed the fall season, Luis felt that it was one of the worse ones in Point Pleasant. Probably irrationally so, he kept telling himself. “But really. A few quiet days. Maybe something with a fireplace and some time under a blanket, I could go for that.”
"A blanket you knitted yourself, I hope." Charlie teased. Her gaze ticked to the cheap plastic clock hanging on the wall of the room. Almost time to head back to her classroom to get ready for her next class. "I agree with you, though. A quiet day or two shouldn't be too much to ask, especially for us geezers." Charlie pushed gently away from the counter she was leaning against. “I should probably get back to my class. But I’m sure we’ll cross paths again.” She gave him a small smile and a salute with her coffee mug before heading out of the lounge to get back to her classroom and get ready for another round of teenagers.