2024.03.04: Bob Meets Kora
| Bob Meets Kora | |
|---|---|
| Bob has a short conversation with Kora while waiting for someone else | |
| IC Date | March 4th, 2024 |
| IC Time | Evening |
| Players | Bob, Kora |
| Location | Prospect Roasters |
| Spheres | Mage |
Prospect Roasters - Coffee Shop
Prospect Roasters is your standard issue, run of the mill, coffee house. It is faux painted in washes of colors striking a calculated balance between dynamic and soothing. There is a mural painted into the wall of a never-ending crowd of people, a welcoming attitude and open feel in the faces of the people. The people are of every breed of humankind, every race, every style of dress, from every culture on earth. Above the heads of the crowd, is the inscription:
"Peace is not unity in similarity, but unity in diversity, in the comparison and conciliation of differences."
The high ceiling holds hanging ceiling fans, slowly rotating the air in the space, moving the scents of food from the back kitchen. The display cases of clear domed glass show the pastries and baked goods for sale to tempt the palate while the classic slate chalkboards display the specials and menu to the crowd in multicolored chalk and bright looping script behind the cash registers and space to collect the orders placed.
Wherever possible there is a friendly reminder that the Roasters charge a higher price to promote fair trade, a living wage, and sustainability for all involved, as well as various charities, and no one goes hungry if they just haven't eaten in a while. There are two registers at the front to make things a little easier with the increased business.
The patrons range from edgy young hipsters to aging hippies and everything in between. There is food to supplement the caffeine fix. The staff consists of a tragically hip couple behind the bar and a disembodied Hispanic voice that echoes through the small window leading to the kitchen. There is always music playing here, eclectic music which swings wildly from genre to genre.
<Phone> (Text to Ceilia) Want to meet at our usual coffee spot to discuss investigations?
<Phone> (Text from Ceilia) Is that safe for something important? Maybe better your place or mine?
<Phone> (Text to Ceilia) There is much safer than our home, until we get better, umm, security at our homes.
<Phone> (Text from Ceilia) Alright
Standing just a touch under the six foot mark, Kora is willowy and slender in figure, and serene in presence. Her eyes are arresting, large and startlingly intelligent, full thick lashes surrounding vibrant silvery orbs that don't miss much, and set under finely arched dark silver eyebrows always perched as in polite question. Sooty dark liner accenting those eyes. She looks like the mythical species that she just might be. All fair, fair skin and delicate features with a delicately pointed chin, and high, noble-born cheekbones give her face a slightly wild look. As if she should be a vixen dodging through the underbrush.
Her hair is a thick mass, the color of spun moonlight and frost in shade. A few locks around her face have been allowed freedom, though they are curled lightly to hang infront of her ears. The rest has been gathered in a loose clasp to the top of her head, tucked and curled to be held in a bun and out of the way. The up-swept hair bares her slender, pale throat, with its long, swan-like grace, yet the tips of her ears have been neatly hidden by the loose fall of her hair until the nape of her neck.
Her features may give away what she is, even if her clothing did not. She wears a neat almost crisply pleated white linen shirt, over dove gray slacks. A neatly tailored, knee length duster jacket in a matched white overlays the suit beneath. Its collar rising to cup around her shoulders and throat. Heeled boots vanish neatly into the cuffs of the slacks serve to elongate her figure, bringing her height to a spare inch above six feet.
If the coat is left open, a medical kit can be seen riding at her hip under the coat, stethoscope wrapped around it for security.
A tall man dressed in a black turtleneck and blue jeans enters, with a messenger bag slung over his left shoulder and a stout wood shillelagh cane in his right that he leans on for a moment as he enters. The jeans have a patch on one knee, in the pattern of a Mandelbrot fractal. His face has light stubble, oval around grey eyes, and his hair is dark brown, down to his shoulders. His jaw is set, and his face pensive. His thoughts seem elsewhere as he waves to Nina and picks up the chocolate with a side of coffee that seems to be his usual here.
Kora stands near the menu slowly boing over the listings, then glances at prices, then finally down at the small pile of assorted crumples bills and change she has out on the bar. A finger sorts the change into piles as seh totals up what she has presenty, then glances back up again before grinning to Nina. "Sorry, wanted ot make certain I had enough. A hot cocoa, please. And the Chipotle Chicken Melt, as well. A friend recomended it if I got over this way." She carefully shifts the money over to present it to Nina like it wa a puppy.
Bob looks up, seeming to wake up from his reverie. He looks at Kora and smiles, then to Nina. "Nina, please set her up with whatever she wants to order tonight, on my tab." He turns to Kora. "Hi. I'm Bob. You look like you might be new in town, and I figured I'd pay forward the kindness I received when I arrived here. I have to check on something, but leave a message for me here anytime, and if I can help you get set up here in town I will. I hate to dash, but.." He shrugs, with a 'what can I do' look.
Kora blinks as her tab gets picked up. She glances from the money to Bob, to Nina and back to Bob. "Well, thank you kindly. You're certain? I had enogh to cover it without raiding the backup stash. People usually pay me in trade for my work is all."
Bob grins, "Very much so. It's just money. Give Nina your cell if you want, and I'll reach out. I really do have to go though. Welcome to Prospect!"
