Who: Bren Gallagher and Tori Middleton What: Fate is a fickle bitch. When: Backdated to Friday, October 3rd, 10:15pm Where: The Green Bean Café, New Haven, CT Warnings: TBD Status: Incomplete
During the week, Tori enjoyed the quick pace of her job. She didn’t mind the minor stress that came with too little workers and too many patrons: the rush before classes, in between classes, and the occasional business worker. But during those shifts, the day went by quicker and she didn’t think. Her only job was to count money or make lattes and cappuccinos -- repetitive bullshit that was so mindless she could do it in her sleep. Friday nights, however, were the slow nights and she ended up doing school work or texting under the counter.
But there was something about that night, it seemed slower than ever and she was on edge. Something was bothering Nick; he wanted her to leave and when she pointedly started ignoring him, she found herself in a battle of control. Whatever was bothering him, it was serious. And annoying, really annoying because really ...who could be worse than Nick. The only way she could think of to ease the tension, she summoned the dagger and reformed it to a penknife. She slipped it her boot, hooked on the inside lace and cool against her jeans. It was a distraction as she leaned over her book, eyes blurred against the definitions she was double checking.
“Hey, Tori, keep an eye on the bar. I’m gonna start cleaning up the floor.” She glanced up, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded,
“Okay,” and stepped between the register and the bar, just in time to hear the bell over the door ring. She flipped her book closed, pencil stuck between the pages and stood up, lips curving into the ghost of a smile. “Hey, can I get you something…”
Coffee, Bren had decided, was really more of a habit than a necessity, but it was one he couldn’t quite break. The caffeine didn’t make any impact on him, not with Ash’s system. The only thing he really needed was blood, but that didn’t keep him from craving a cup of coffee when he knew he was going to be up late.
The Green Bean was a little too hipster for him, most of the time, but he had to admit that there might be something to that ‘organic’ thing they preached, because they brewed the best cup of coffee in town. About to head off for a night of roaming the streets on the off chance that he might run into a daimon, or something else that needed its ass kicked, he thought he deserved the treat of a really nice coffee, for once. That was the only reason he went there, instead of his usual Starbucks stop. At least, he assumed that was the only reason. Fate was a fickle bitch, and when you could see everyone’s but your own, it got a little bit tricky.
Whatever the reason was, Bren Gallagher walked through the door of the Green Bean Café at 10:15pm on a Friday. He wore a pair of leather pants that were supposed to be blue jeans, but when you were a god that whole ‘supposed to be’ thing didn’t make as much of a difference as it did for most people. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he had on an old, faded thrift store shirt with ‘Styx’ across the front, not because he liked the band, but just for the irony. He was going to a super hipster coffee shop; being ironic was a requirement. He planned to get his coffee in a biodegradable paper cup with ‘please recycle’ printed on it, pay, and get out. By this point, he really should have known that plans didn’t always work out for him.
There was something a little bit off from the second he stepped into the coffee shop, a little bit like a noose tightening around his neck. His palm itched, ready to summon his staff at any moment, to defend himself from… from what? Black rimmed glasses? Beanies? The cute little blonde girl at the counter? Oh, shit.
Oh, shit. Normally, Acheron agreeing with him was a good sign. Not this time. This time, that cute little blonde girl at the counter was definitely something to be concerned about.
Sonofabitch. Tori had only spared a glance to the newcomer, rather turning to the sink to wash her hands instead. But as the warm water splashed her against her skin, Nick’s rage her like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just angry, he was fucking pissed and it was all directed toward the guy that had just walked in. She couldn’t understand, Nick moot on the reasoning why, but she was drowning, suffocating in a power she didn’t know. It wasn’t like Nick’s -- her own -- welcoming and dark, dangerous and yet protective. It was something different ...something ...it was strangely familiar. Tori didn’t like it.
She re-rolled her sleeves, pushing the soft striped material of her sweater up past her elbows and took a deep breath. There was no reason for her to subsume to the same paranoia and anger that Nick let rule his life. Tori was above that. Yet, she was still uncomfortable and would have preferred to send the guy away. With a quick mental ‘calm the fuck down’ she turned to the customer, “can I get some--” the words caught in her throat as she was finally able to take a good look at him.
The power was coming from him; overwhelming and Tori unconsciously took a step back. A baby face, leather pants ...oh god, what if Nick was right? The guy was oddly familiar and not because he was cute (something like that, Tori would recall him without hesitation). But this guy? Acheron -- it’s him. She was not, generally, a paranoid person. Shit happened; she dealth with and moved on. But this didn’t seem like a ‘deal with it and move on’ situation.
She pressed her thumb into the spider web on her hand, Nick’s tattoo faded and skin toned, to calm herself, “sorry, can I get something started for you?”
It’s him. I know it’s him. Nick was relentless, attempting to claw to the surface and Tori wouldn’t let him. Her body, her rules and she was always in charge. But her fingers still itched toward the dagger against her leg. She knew that she could easily summon it, but on the off chance that Nick was right -- did she really want to get into with someone from his life? She knew, not only from their bond but from the books, that he wasn’t exactly everyone’s favorite.