New Places, Old Smells. (Therese)

[eemp]

Now, it took a certain kind of creature to wind through narrow alley after narrow street after cool and foreign soil, to follow the faintest scent that wound so tantalizing along the day for hours, just because of some silly craving. But Aurelius was hungry and as a child of chefs his appetite was spoiled from birth. However much a monster, the man knew good food, and could sift the smell of baking bread away from all the fish and whiskey in the world. The terrible tempting aroma of muffins and pies and thick, juicy carrot cake was so so much like home and family that he couldn't help it: he was drawn, inexorably, westward. His pack on his back and his feet unintentioned, he'd meant to go on into port. But the wandering scent of delightful things pulled him and tugged him and found no retort. Brown heavy trousers and creamy white work-shirts were near uniform in this town, and he found it improbably easy to slip past, to move forward and past and through- to slip along the edges of the unsuspecting crowd.

Aurelius followed the lowering sun to the bakery held by the seer, his intentions as innocent as a creature like so is capable of. Saliva rose thick at the back of his tongue and he swallowed it, the edge of his lip twitching savage at the unsuspecting crowd. Architect hear us we hunger for the rest of your children, help us and know us and hide us oh lord. The smell of human was thick as drying fish in the sailor's town and oh poor Aurelius was hungry. Of course he knew evil, how could he not? It was safe to assume that whatever he wanted was the wrong thing to want but lord oh lord the sweet scent of clover and honey, the taste of sweetbread and cinnamon called him ever inward, inward, winding narrow dirty streets and all. The power of rye compels and a good nose never wanders. Into the city he'd avoided so long as too much, too much at once oh god the smells and dead into central, to downtown and roaring crowds and hunger like he'd grown to know too well.

He flinched back from the ringing of the doorbell, his posture lean and narrow in the doorframe and his lengthy fingers curled about the knob. Wide eyes searched the bakery, green and suspicious of each and every patron. Another small twitch about the mouth, the Fel'asar still incognito, still human on the outside. He stepped inside and closed the door gently behind himself, taking another quick glance around before skittering off to the side and pulling his hat down over his eyes, fretful as a hunted deer. Dear oh dear the awful lengths to which he went for cookies. The smell of human lessened here, thankfully muted by the incredible things that assaulted his senses- oh sweet Architect, fruit cake.

Mouth still twitching he approached the counter like a mouse edging up to steal cheese, hoping to everything there'd be something to point to, please god let there be a menu. Pale green eyes flicked uneasily about the space, landing fitful on the pale proprietor. The look that crossed his face was strange, and very un-monstrous: the tiny dimpled edge of a smile curling up the corners of his mouth, hopeful and hungry and please please human.

Please don't make me speak.

[Tay]

Fortunately for the baker's newest patron, lunch-hour for the shipyard had long passed and the workday was beginning to wind down. Her customers were sparse and quiet, save for a few young chatterboxes by the door, who did not at all seem perturbed by the strange man's arrival. Their voices clouded up the room, cloaking the restaurant with idle chit-chat and jibber-jabber. The women just toed the line of being an annoyance, but thankfully their talkativeness only served to lessen the chance of an awkward silence ever befalling that little establishment.

Therese did not take notice of the man's presence until she found him at the counter, smiling almost sheepishly, in silence. She rarely received a customer who did not speak, and when such a patron did stumble in they rarely appeared so amicable. They were usually grumpy and in a hurry, jabbing their greedy little fingers the menu impatiently. He did not seem so hasty: he just seemed quiet, and that she could understand.
She approached him with her hair pulled back and a small smile lighting up her face, but she said nothing. Within the moment she had procured what looked like a small flyer and slid it over the smooth wooden counter to him.

There the albino waited, not at all in a hurry, and she made herself appear busy by rearranging some muffins on a nearby display stand. Silence was her specialty.

[eemp]

He edged about the counter, his feet never quite still, and though it wasn't apparent he was very much toned down against the urge to huddle up against the wall and stare out at all the panting oblivious humans with their small square teeth. He hated hated hated standing with his back to people; he was always afraid they would know him for himself and stab him while he browsed, oblivious, the menu at a bakery. The word, Aurelius, is paranoid, but it wasn't such a stretch. After all, he was a demon, he was a monster to be thrashed and driven out.

She was small, and her hands were pale. He realized the face he wore when her smile floated rosy up to meet his, and his long gloved hand moved to cover his mouth. Old habits die hard and I swear I just want cookies- he pulled the hand away and kept the wavering line of his lips hard pressed. H- hi. She was very small, and her hands were very pale, and she was lovely. His hands curled writhing snakes over each other on the counter and she pushed a menu toward him, simply understanding and moving from lovely to gorgeous, ethereal, perfect oh god oh god she understood. She understood.

He could not help the second smile, the shaking gentle echo of the softer curve that hers was made of, and the bulge of his larnyx bobbed as he swallowed the thick scent of bakery. His fingers splayed, knowing and practiced, over the edges of the flyer, and after a few moments browsing his long narrow finger found fruit cake thank god. His youngfern glance rose back to the baker, shy and curious and hopeful. Please please please let this not be ruined by stark humanity, let this day improve. Lord, the smells- so strong out here, unmuted by the rain of Silvereye. He held himself still and he waited.

Though he still was nervous as a lamb the silence was not awkward, and her tender smoothing motions were a poultice on the frayed edges of his social skills. One does not learn much in the art of conversation when one refuses to take part, and Aurelius was shy, at best. It wasn't often he stood still among humans, after all. Despite the apparent humanity of his build sometimes one could still tell, they knew in the animal grace of his fluid motion and the hunger that sometimes got to be so heavy on his shoulders that he was not one of them and they chased him for the audacity of disguise. Lord, lord, he just wanted fruitcake. Let not the humans take notice quite yet. Let this not be ruined by someone's keen observance, let me pass by undetected, let me be an owl in the sky (and let there please be fruitcake fresh).

[Tay]

Each subdued gesture he offered her eased the natural apprehension that came with addressing other people, and the smile he gave only served to broaden hers. He was just as caught up in anxiety as she was, Therese concluded, if not moreso. She dubbed him shy-if not mute-and considered his silence no longer. There was something strange about him, but he seemed hyper-aware of it. She could definitely relate, she decided, peered at him through the corner of her eye. Naturally suspicious, perpetually disquieted, with every reason to be. There was someone out to hurt you at ever turn, after all-

Fruitcake.
Hm.

The albino scratched idly at her neck, examining the word his finger indicated at with a rosy bitten lip. Fruitcake. Gosh darned fruitcake, of course. Did she even have fruitcake?
She stole another glance at his face and nodded, a smile finding it's way back to her face. Right. Fruitcake. Therese could not find the resolution to allow herself to let him down. He seemed sweet enough, the poor soul. All he wanted was some fruitcake.
Urk...fruitcake. Of course that was what he wanted. Of all things.

Slender white digits slid along the menu beside his, and she relieved him of it, replacing the menu back on the small stack beneath the counter. In the meantime, she leaned forward and--hoping that she had not mistaken a deaf man--murmured faintly, "You can take a seat, if you would like." Therese nodded at a table adjacent to the counter, against the wall, and stood straight once more. She appeared as though she had just shared a really juicy secret and was trusting him with it. Which was sort of strange, but I guess baked goods was serious business with her.

[eemp]

The eerie way she understood was beginning to prod at the edges of his senses and insist that it couldn't be true. She was- there was something there that was off about her and he couldn't- quite- damn. (The fact that she maybe had the reason to be socially awkward all over her SUSPICIOUSLY PALE skin seemed to elude him. Somebody rolled a one on his observation check there.) But she wasn't suspicious, she wasn't asking him to speak, and she was pretty so maybe that was enough? There were other people here, besides. She probably wasn't a vampire. What kind of vampire would own a goddamn bakery? ...The very sneaky kind, of course- - but Architect look at her ugh. She bit her lip and he examined her teeth with the practiced subtlety of a hunter of humans, looking away satisfied by the small white squares within.

Her eyes darted back up to his and startled him, raising yellowy eyebrows and rounding soft green eyes as his back straightened and his fingers pulled away from the menu. They knotted over each other again as she pulled the menu away, the man standing at very straight attention with his chin tucked down to look at her. When she looked up at him he blinked, his mouth again a narrow wavering line, as if he were awaiting orders.

She gave them, and he was grateful. Ugh thank god for tables against the wall she understood she understood she understood. Aurelius wondered why he hadn't come here sooner, lord. Fruitcake. He nodded, red curls waving their agreement, and sidled away, grateful. Either she was a vampire or she was- she was something but the important thing was that she a) understood and b) was going to give him fruit cake. Holy lord it had been a long time. His mom made him fruitcake! For his birthday when he was a child. It had been a long, long time since and frankly he hadn't had enough humanity- even of the demonic sort- lately.

He settled down into the chair designated and scooted so his back was mostly facing wall, and minority facing the back, and the counter where she stood. The invisible monster Aurelius sat down with his skinny knees together and he wondered if he could get a glass of milk. Then he got distracted by a loose bolt down by his wrist, and set to digging in the pack he'd set down by his feet for a good set of pliers.

A few moments later he was casting a suspicious glance around the room, making sure nobody was watching him before taking off his gloves and setting to work on the iron and copper and brass of his delicately tooled hand. The appendage was a work of art, mobile and soundless but for the mild 'clink' of metal against wood as he rested his wrist on the table. Just the one bolt? Yes. He set it right again and wiggled his fingers experimentally, just to be sure.

[Tay]

There was nothing quite like a satisfied customer, especially when one worked at providing patrons with something one adores doing. The entire process just made it all worth living, for Therese, from the dozen experimental batches, right down to the first bite of that macadamia nut cookie she put her blood, sweat, and tears into. (She doesn't recommend doing that, having tried it: too salty, and the blood makes it awfully gritty. Really. Wouldn't recommend that, in the off chance you were considering doing such a thing.) As big of a cheeseball as she was, she was a happy cheeseball! (The only thing that rained on her big ol' cheeseball parade was the monumental lie concerning her identity that weighed her down each and everyday, but there is no need to think about that. Compartmentalization, if you haven't heard of it, is a wonderful short term solution, and she recommends it.)

All snark aside, she was more than happy to hunt down his fruitcake for him. She had worried that she would return to the counter empty-handed, but thankfully having no social life to speak of paid off: she had made one recently in her spare time, along with a batch of blueberry muffins and a pie to match. She chalked it up to luck, rather than her social reclusive tendencies.
The albino moved throughout the back of the store like a little firecracker, searching for little candy raspberries. Just one or two would do, they were mostly used for aesthetic reasons, but finding them proved to be more of a hassle than they were worth. Just as she was about to give up, she found the little jar hiding away on a back shelf, and placed a couple on his plate.

Now, adorable little candied decorations were all well and good, but Therese felt as though the entire set up was sub-par. One might even call it half-assed! And that would just not do.
He seemed like a nice fella. Sort of lanky, with kind features that fell easy on the eye. But to say that his appearance at all served as her motivation to whip up a cup of hot cocoa special was way off base, and quite frankly she would take offense at the very thought of such a thing. He was a sweet young man who just looked like he needed a nice cup of cocoa, is all. With cream.
...and little chocolate turtles floating at the top, courtesy of the confectioner down the street.

"Sir." Therese was soon standing opposite him, setting his plate on the table as gingerly as she could manage, along with mug of cocoa so cute it was almost cartoony. Her hands folded, and a small smile quirked her lips, ridiculously pleased and almost hopeful, as though she were entertaining the idea that there was even the slightest chance that he might actually reject the items placed before him.
...hm.
"Will there be anything else?"

[eemp]

Aurelius was pretty good at keeping himself busy. Once the bolt was sufficiently tightened he realized he ought to adjust the others to make sure they were all the same and his hand wasn't going to fall off later, so he set about doing so. Then there was a smudge along his wrist, so out with the cheesecloth to shine it away. Cleanliness is next to godliness, Aurelius. Then there was a spur along the inside of his forearm! Sandpaper sandpaper sa- - someone was coming. Down went the sleeve that had been pushed up for access, and the pinker of his hands came to rest over it's mechanical companion as he looked up at her, innocent. No, I wasn't- I was just washing my hands is all.

She had fruitcake. She was speaking! Oh hi. Uh. No, my name is- oh right. Formalities. Those were- right those were something one did when communicating with strangers. Usually he just slit their throats and was done with the interaction but right now it was 'sir' and 'madam' and 'may I' and oh holy shit look at that fucking cocoa. His eyes widened, big and brightly green, and his jaw worked in his effort to keep his secrets hidden. His larnyx bobbed again and his mouth contorted into another of those sweet smiles, gaze flicking down to the plate on his table and the (holy shit amazing) cocoa with the- wait. With the whipped cream and the floating chocolate turtles.

He could have cried for joy. As it was, she was asking if he wanted anything else and he thought he might die if she actually upped the ante, so he shook his head and was very sure that if he opened his mouth now he'd never get to eat this amazing delicious pile of awesome before him because they would, uh, run him the fuck out of town.

So he was very quiet, and very thankful, and very shyly shifting his shoulders as he looked back down at his plate. Which was his. And had food for him on it awesome holy shit. His fingertips tapped together, the gesture familiar, almost a prayer, and he- - for a second he froze in place, because he couldn't decide which to go for first, but then he picked up the mug and he looked momentarily up at Therese, then out at the rest of the patrons with the air of an animal hunted. Lord she was precious but god please don't look at me. I can't- just-

He bowed his head, his shoulders rounding, and spoke into the cocoa, his mouth hidden behind the creamy excess and his voice very, very soft. "_{Thank you.}"

[Tay]

Talk about precious.
He was a pile of jitters, anxious and sweet. (Equating 'silence' with 'sweetness' was a little problem she had, but she did not know how far off base she was with this particular man.) The way he thanked her caused an internal struggle: she was caught between squeaking and hugging him silly or just standing there, to watch him enjoy his food.

After concluding that both were equal parts creepy and inappropriate, she cleared her throat and attempted to speak from that ever-growing smile of hers. "It is my pleasure. I'll be right up here, if you need anything."
She gestured awkwardly over her shoulder at the counter before making her way, er, back to the counter. Therese then plucked up a book, wiggled on her stool, and read.

And that's where she sat, for a few minutes, looking rather antsy, as though there was another place she would rather be. Which was strange! She had always been so content in her shop, so pleased with it's success that she hadn't ever really needed anything else, much less the company of people. But that is not really what she wanted. She didn't want the company of people. She wanted his company in particular, just for a few moments. The very thought made her fingertips come alive, and she found that they were anxiously picking at the book's binding beneath the counter. How strange.

It was an absurd idea, thinking that she could waltz over there and ask for a seat. He seemed too genteel to refuse, and if he really did not enjoy her presence she would simply catch on to his social cues and take her leave. But that seemed so exploitative! How could she ever work up the nerve to do such a thing-

Apparently, only after a few more customers had left. The bakery was empty by then, save for her, this man, and the two chatterboxes by the window. Before she could command them to do otherwise, her feet were shuffling over to the strange man's table, but by then it was too late to turn back. With a bitten lip and her delicate features contorted almost painfully, as though it strained her to request such an improper thing, she asked, "I-is this seat...taken?" Holy. Shiite.

[eemp]

Right up here! Gotcha. He nodded, looking sidelong up at her from behind his mound of delicious holydamn cocoa. She gestured then wandered off, and Aurelius looked to be sure nobody was watching him INHALE HIS FRUIT CAKE.

It was probably sad that a piece of cake was the highlight of his week, but. Homeboy killed people for a living, and spent most of his time denying everything about himself, his past, and his occupation. This was just cake! Delicious cake. And cocoa! Let's not forget the cocoa, with the tiny chocolate turtles, that she- that lovely girl- had brought to him without any kind of prompting. She'd just- given. Freely. And that was nice.

He resisted the urge to lick the plate (and then eat that too), instead scooting it forward with absolutely no trace of fruit or cake left anywhere upon it and leaning back with his little mug of cocoa. Drinking was easy. He could do that without showing off his chompers. Plus, the place had cleared out, and it was pleasantly quiet in there- aside from the people that had been yammering since he'd walked in. Not about magic. He would have smelled that even over the overbearing scent of sweetness in an oven.

Aurelius sipped at his cocoa and he watched people walking by outside. He was very condensed, his elbows against his sides and his feet tucked up under his chair, and the effect was one of unoffensiveness, of shy humanity. He was a sweet young man, his own bait and tackle, and there was absolutely nothing frightening about him with his narrow little mouth and his soft green eyes. Both hands were wrapped around the mug, the iron warming slower than his flesh did but the effect unfelt.

He heard her shuffle off her stool and he listened, though he did not shift in his seat. He barely even blinked when she moved through the bakery, concentrating on the sounds of her footsteps and swishing skirts and still holding onto the warm round edges of his cocoa, staring out the window.

It was when she actually spoke to him that he jumped. HOLY SHIT. His arms convulsed a little and he put the mug down, lest he crack it or drop it or otherwise make a giant ass of himself. He looked up at her, head tilting quizzically, and he blinked as the words sank in. ...Hwaaah? He looked at the seat across from himself, down at the half-empty cocoa, and back up at her. Uhh. UHHH. UHHHHHHH.

His face softened, a smile curling at the corners of his lips, and he shook his head. His eyes darted to the chair and back up to her face: an invitation. Okay. I. Uh. Okay.


Social niceties are not exactly high-priority when you spend your days elbow-deep in blood and magic.

[Tay]

You could not imagine how pleased she was to see that he had eaten everything on his plate. She considered fetching something else for him to eat, but she couldn't afford to give anything else to him on the house right now, and it seemed rude to offer without doing so. He was...he just looked so soft-tempered, she could not imagine cajoling any money out of the poor man. Heck, he was too shy to speak!

She bit back her smile to keep from looking any more idiotic than she was sure she already did, and took the seat opposite him. It was about time, too--her legs had begun to shake the moment she hopped off her stool.
"Thanks." Her voice was but a mere whisper, as she was too unsure to speak any louder, and her hands folded over one another in her lap to keep from fidgeting. The albino even ventured to make hesitant eye-contact, before she realized that she had nothing to say.

He, obviously, was not of the talkative breed. Therefore, asking questions was off the table. She did not want to draw him out of his comfort zone, after all. A brief silence passed, wherein Therese felt her cheeks grow hot, and she her ankles crossed and re-crossed anxiously. Oh, my, this was a bad idea-
"S-so." Crap. There her body went again, disobeying her. She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, pink digits trembling in their skin, and she stole another look at him. "You...liked the fruitcake...hm? I'm glad, I don't...usually make it, no one asks for it, but I suppose I should start making it again, huh?" Ahem.

[eemp]

You'd be shy too, if you had a mouth full of broken glass. She sat down across from him and he condensed a little further into himself, his shoulders curling and the mug taken up to hover in front of his jaws again. He watched her over the rim, green eyes wide and unblinking, and as silence fell he looked back down at the cocoa. Which was getting cold OH NO so he had another drink. Which, of course, would be when she spoke.

He froze, mid-sip, and his eyes rose up round to meet her. Fruit cake! He swallowed, straightened up a bit, and nodded, enthusiasm tousling his curls. A moment of self-consciousness pulled his eyes up toward his hat, and after that his hand. He pulled it off and settled it in his lap, because he was inside and that was manners, Aurelius. His hair was a little bit amazing: when the hat came off it stopped obeying gravity, bright autumn curls twisting up and around and anywhere they pleased in happy twisting ringlets. That was not the hair of a monster. Ugh. Look at him. Look at him and say he is a monster, sitting there nervous as anything because of the girl sitting across from him drinking hot cocoa and having curly red hair. Have you ever seen a villain like that? Surely not. Surely he couldn't harm a fly.

He smiled, and it was sweet- a gentle freckled boy with bright green eyes and an artificial arm. A mechanic, perhaps, or an inventor. A scientist! He was infinitely more bookish than brutish, with his slight build and his great bag of tools. He was holding the cocoa again, looking between it and Therese with timid flickers of soft moss green. "Y- y- it's very good." No, sir, that is not a villain. That boy there in his little leather suspenders: he was a nerd. His enunciation was perfect even in his stutters and his voice was so soft, so bashful, so sweet. Surely he wasn't a monster.

[Tay]

No sir. Not a villain at all. He was the sort of man that looked like he appreciated peace and quiet, the kind that seemed quite content with a good cake and a cup of cocoa. Well, if...today was any indication, anyway. "O-oh." Her eyes turned down at her hands, not at all anticipating that he would speak. His voice was more timid and more gentle than she would have imagined. "Thank you. I was...j-just wondering what you thought about the, um the cocoa. I haven't...ever tried that mix before, you know, so."

There was another silence, though this one seemed less strenuous to the albino: she was quite satisfied with herself, having approached this very kind man who...now looked quite stiff. She had sort of been expecting that, and it was a but hey! He was talking to her, and she hadn't even hoped for that much.
"M-my name is Therese." Huurrr. Nice one. She winced at her own lack of social awareness and peered up at him almost tentatively. Um.

[eemp]

Look. Everyone needs cake sometimes, whether they're horrible cannibalistic monstrous homicidal maniacs or not! And look also at what living in the woods for years will do to a man's social habits. A man four times his size he can stare down without a problem but this tiny, precious thing sitting in a skirt across from him he can't make eye contact with. He stuttered, he shook and he averted his eyes oh good god look at that.

What about the cocoa, now? Aurelius hadn't had cocoa in years. This. Was. Heavenly. The edges of his mouth curled up into dimples again and for a second a fraction of teeth were exposed, sharp and hungry and villainous but he hid them just as quickly. He nodded. Is also very good! I- this- the tiny turtles. What is even going on there that is amazing.

He gave up trying to make words do and had another drink. Hoolord. He straightened his shoulders and tried to look less like a wounded puppy, his neck tilting off to one side and his head tilting back to compensate. It was a birdish sort of counterbalance, alongside the brightness of his eyes the effect was chimerical. There was something animal about him, yes, but it was gentle, laying low among all the evidence of humanity that abounded in his soft, nougaty soul. He cleared his throat, and he swallowed, looking down to make sure the mug was in the right place before he looked back up, unblinking, and spoke. "I am Aurelius." And it was true. The phrase was familiar and his tone gained a little confidence within it, though obviously not enough to let him put the mug down and show off the fences of razorwire in his jaws.

[Tay]

Everyone needs cake sometimes, whether they're horrible cannibalistic monstrous homicidal maniacs or not!

Yeah. Pretty much her motto.

Therese did catch a glimpse of his teeth, but just barely: she was more concerned with the dimples impressed in his cheeks. "I guess you like it then, huh?" She felt the muscles of her mouth begin to twitch into a smile but the albino held firm, trying to maintain what little composure she had left. Mostly, she did not want to look like a doof.
"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, mister Aurelius." She glanced back down at her lap, licking her lips as though it might conceal the bashful little grin that had suceeded in breaking through.

The conversation was going to die unless she, and Therese felt her grip beginning to slip. She peered up at him through her lashes and cleared her throat, terribly demure again. "I-if you don't mind my asking-only...because I haven't seen you around before, you know-um, a-are you just...passing through? Here? I mean, Red Axe?" Yeah. That place. Durp.

[eemp]

Providing cake and cookies for the scum of the universe was a dirty job, but apparently she was gonna do it. Aurelius was passing through, yes, just a break for cake between murders. Huh. It's a funny sort of world.

Mister. That was- aheh- oh god why was that cute. He was running out of cocoa and he was pretty sure he was gonna die of sheer social ineptitude before that even happened. She was doing the- that thing with the lashes and the sweet tone and once he'd been bitten by a witch doing that SAME THING and oh god. The stuttering. He was slain. There was no saving him. There was no help that could be sent. There was no going back. He squeaked a little.

HURRRRRRRRRRRwhat? He straightened up again, as he'd been melting into his chair, and repressed the doofy 'Heh-' that rose in his throat and would have utterly exposed him. Talking is hard okay? So he nodded, wishing for a map to point to. I make rounds! I just have kind of avoided this town because I don't like fish. Really. That's most of the reason. Also water is kind of scary. "I'm." DERP "From Silvereye." There, that wasn't so bad, was it? His shoulders hunched again. "My parents are chefs. They'd- Heh-" OH GODDAMNIT THERE IT WAS AGH AGH AGH he'd tried so hard to repress that stupid sound. "You're good." By which he means a) an excellent baker, b) delicious, c) very cute and he thinks that a dinner date is in order, d) both b and c in reverse order. It is worth pointing out that he managed to do all this without really exposing the lower half of his face, which was pretty impressive for a guy with nothing but a mostly-empty mug of hot cocoa to shield himself with.


Yep. Fierce witchhunter Fel'asar, right here.

[Tay]

He squeaked and she bit her lip to repress the horrible, horrible giggles that threatened to break through the adorable little barricade that was her bitten lip. He didn't seem so repressed any longer, and for that she was grateful. Therese even found herself leaning forward to hear him clearer, juuuust slightly, and in doing so her interest became apparent, which served to both frighten and thrill her simultaneously, because that meant he could probably see it too! And that meant this could go one of two ways, and she wasn't holding out much hope for the more preferable of the two, but just the idea that there was a slim chance made her week.
"That is...very sweet of you to say." Her lips curled, and she glanced down at the table sheepishly. "I grew up in Silvereye, actually. I-I've been here for less than ten years." Barf.

Now all of this was adorable, but the prospect of him ending up eating the flesh off her cold carcass dampens their little rendezvous considerably.

[eemp]

Okay.

He got it.

She was flirting. The leaning gave it away! And that- oh honey I'm sorry- but that wasn't gonna work. He couldn't- just- look at her, shit. He couldn't lie to her. So gently, resolutely, he put down his (okay hang on; he drank the last lukewarm swallow and then put down his) cocoa, placing the mug directly in the center of the empty fruitcake plate. He did not raise his eyes or his face when he inhaled to speak again, filled at once with trepidation and locking up at the long joints. His hands folded together on the table, stacking false with true in even numbers, and his eyes remained upon them as he spoke.

"You've probably eaten at their restaurant, then." A soft smile, another of those nervous little twitchy swallows, and he looked up. His eyes were pale and rounded, never blinking, and the teeth exposed in his faint, sweet smile were indescribably sharp. With their appearance his face stopped being human and became instantly a terrible facsimile of such, a semi-accurate mask of mankind worn over demon's faces. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing at best, a monster slinking in under guise of freckles and dimples. Sugar mixed with poison and painted up like breakfast. He was a walking lie, and he knew it.

"The owners don't exactly advertise us."

[Tay]

'Flirting' was not quite the right word for what she was doing. Her actions were much less sly than that; she lacked the confidence for such a thing. Instead, one might compare her behavior to a fish out of water, flailing wildly on the wooden dock with splinters digging into the tender flesh of it's fins-
"Oh?" Without looking at his smile, she could tell there was something off about his face. The sweet demeanor he possessed was still present, but the soft smile he had was suddenly-...very, very sharp. Oh. Oh...dear. Her lips parted, her grin faltering. Those sharp little (er, not so much) bones in his mouth had warped everything. The once reassuring gesture did nothing to ease her anxiety, which was beginning to mount again. They were pointed and demonic.

But they had always been in his mouth. They had been in his mouth since she met him, and now all of his peculiar gestures made sense: he had been hiding his mouth. He was self-conscious, and she could not blame him. Having been put in the same situation (save for the means to hide her mutation, as it was a tad difficult to hide every inch of skin and a pair of bright red eyes) she was sympathetic to his plight, though she could not entirely relate.
Therese chewed on her own lip, nodding thoughtfully after he had spoke. "I see." If he had been insinuating that his parents were...of his kind as well, then he must have been a Fal'asar, and not simply the result of a genetic mutation. She could think of no other race that would produce such results.

Another smile lit up those pale cheeks of hers, and she sat back, reaching for his cup. "Would you like another cup of cocoa?" Turtles and all, I promise.

[eemp]

Aurelius braced himself. Judging by her previous actions, the worst she'd do would be to throw him out, but then he'd probably not get any more fruitcake and that was just tragic. So he was bracing himself for a life terribly devoid of all the sweet things that came out of her kitchen, which is not a thing one hopes to ever have to brace oneself against.

He'd had worse conversations. Maybe she was- it was too much to hope that she was Fel'asar too, I mean look at her she was tiny. Then again his mom was tiny too and she was fierce so. Uh. She registered his teeth and she faltered. He saw her hopes all crash and crumble, millions of tiny glass butterfly wings tinkling into dust against granite.

She chewed her lip and his hand rose again to cover his mouth. Look, she sees. But she wasn't running, which was scary. She probably had a knife. Ugh. If this girl was a ninja, he'd just have to kill himself. For real. He wasn't exactly sure why but he knew that was the appropriate plan of action. It was good to have contingency plans.

He watched her think and he wished he could chew his own lip without severe bleeding, because that looked like it helped. As it was he just sort of wiggled as he waited for a response. And then. Uh. Well.

Frankly, he made a stupid face. And then he blinked, with his head all tilted in confusion, and a sharp bright smile curled up one edge of his lip. He didn't quite believe her for a moment but holy shit he couldn't help but get his hopes up. "I-" Eeeeeeee "That'd be- yes. Please." I can. Talk, now. I mean. If you want. I uh.

Hi<3

[Tay]

Even if she had been more perturbed by his chompers than she already was, there was only a very slim chance that she would not have offered him more hot cocoa. After witnessing such heart-wrenching emotions flicker across his face, after he moved to recover his mouth with his hand in shame and looked at her and wiggled holy jesus there is no way she would have been able to deny him, whether she had wanted to or not.
Which she didn't.

Here was a friendly man who was not shooing her and wanted more cocoa he wanted more cocoa. She had never taken a chance like this before. Willingly sitting down at a stranger's table to make idle chit-chat was beyond her comprehension a few moments ago but it had paid off and HE WANTED MORE COCOA did I say that already because he did-

"I-I...will...get right on that, then-!"
Taking up his empty plate, save for the mug balanced atop it, she hurried off behind the counter. Therese made short work of the cocoa mix, stirrin' it up with some warm milk and-oh gosh-more turtles, as well as a dash of cinnamon sprinkled over top.
Maybe that was overkill. She didn't seem to notice. When the albino reappeared, there was a mug in each hand and another embarrassingly eager smile spread over her lips.
One of the mugs was handed off to him, and the other she held between her palms once she sat down. After a few sips of her own creation, she realized why, exactly, she had recurring customers. Not that she meant to toot her own horn or anything, but that shit was good so...toot toot.

"So-" Oh gosh conversation again. Therese had forgotten about this part. The high that came with a successful social interaction was beginning to wear off, and she was slowly learning that maybe there was more to the interaction than introductions. She...hadn't really given that part much thought. "H-how are you liking, er, Red Axe?"

[eemp]

She would have been the very first person to call him 'a friendly man' if she had said it aloud. He had killed eight people that week! 'Friendly man' is not the first thing that comes to mind in regards to this one, no. Some Fel'asar were friendly, and generally those were the ones you really had to watch out for. At least he was honest about what he was! Kind of! Eventually. Uh.

.....Right. She took his plate and mug and went to get more cocoa. Today was shaping up to be a pretty good day! He hadn't bitten anyone all week and now he was being rewarded. Religion is awesome. Aurelius leaned his chin on the heel of his hand and continued looking out the window. It was apparent that he wasn't paying much attention, though, as a couple of collared witches walked by without any sort of reaction. He did perk a little at the sound of cinnamon being sprinkled, and looked back to see her walking up. Apparently that whole one-track-mind thing that works so well hunting kind of bubbles over into everything else.

He may or may not have immediately plucked the chocolates off the top and eaten them. Then the quiet sipping commenced, and in a display of perhaps ill-advised honesty, he spoke. "Whole place smells like fish." Is that something you just kind of get used to, or what? It's gross. "But the food's good." We see what he did there. "What brought you here?" Besides the fact that it doesn't rain here all the freaking time.

[Tay]

Today was a very good day for Therese, who had:

• baked a perfect batch of drop cookies
  
• made some amazing lemon squares
  
• remembered that she had fruitcake on the menu
  
• and I guess meeting what she thought was an adorably sweet young man counted too.
  

So yes. A very good day.

"Ah-yeah. It...smells horrendous when you first get here." Her smile turned apologetic and she sort of shrugged. "You become accustomed after a day or two, or...that's what happened with me, anyway." Upon the mention of food she looked down at the contents of her mug, bashful to the point where it was almost sickening. (At the least, sickening to me.) Things began to take a sour turn at his question, however, and Therese only spared him a very brief glance as she murmured, "My dad lived here. I...came to live with him, a few years back." It was an innocent inquiry, but she wasn't entirely comfortable with it.
The albino's smile did not flicker for long, and the light quickly returned to her features. "What about you? I'm surprised the smell hasn't driven you away." Snerk.

[eemp]

Aurelius was glad to know that he was not the only one driven mildly insane by the stench. I mean, not that he wasn't mildly insane on a regular basis, but the smell of fish was different! This was like Captain Mal was trying to run the kitchen again and stinking up the entire house arrggh that was the worst week ever. At least the fish here was raw, though. Aurelius hadn't gotten the smell of grease out of his hair for weeks after that. He nodded agreeably in response, still curled up in his chair (as well as under it) and sipping away at the hot cocoa like a damn schoolgirl. Teehee! Oh god.

Anyway. She apparently was not comfortable with that subject (he was not blind to discomfort, after all) and he didn't press it. He just nodded again, pushed his hair out of his eyes (again) and ate the glob of cream off the top of his cocoa. "I..." His expression turned sheepish and he felt bad for saying, but "Honestly I'd been avoiding this place." The way he thumbed at his nose suggested a sensitivity there. "But I had to come sometime. I mean, look around." Apparently this was a subject of interest for Aurelius. "There are all kinds of things that need taken care of around here." Like all those fucking witches. I'M ONTO YOU, YOU COCKSUCKERS. His eyes had gone all rounded and he'd leaned forward, still unblinking. The effect was profoundly unsettling, what with the sharp edges of his teeth shining in the afternoon light.

[Tay]

So. It took her a moment to come to such a conclusion, but-after she had-the thought this adorable, sweet young man with wonderful red curls on his head being a nutterball sent shivers up her spine.

It all began innocently enough: he mentioned that he was avoiding the place, and she nodded. Right. It was understandable that some noses may take offense to the rather poignant stench that permeated Red Axe, but she was secretly very glad he finally made the effort, or who knows what would have become of those extra chocolate turtles! When he began to go into things that needed 'taking care of', Therese felt as though a very ominous presence had been cast over the bakery. B-but, maybe she was just blowing it out of proportion! It was probably just the combination of his enthusiasm and his teeth. He could not help that he looked...intensely...terrifying...

"I see-you seem very passionate about what you do." That's what a normal person says in this situation, right? Just ignore the discomfort and make idle conversation, right? Because that's what she was trying to do! She had no reason to feel such a way, but she was beginning to think that this conversation was about to take a turn for the worst- "Are you an inspector, of some sort?"
Oh god.
Therese knew what he was doing here! How could she have been so naive!


He was inspecting the bakery for building violations.

[eemp]

Yeah. He pretty much looked horrifying no matter what he was talking about. He would have been just as creepy if he were telling a story about how he rescued a box of kittens from a horde of angry kitten-eating zombies, if not a little more so! He really did just have that kind of teeth face.

She mentioned passion and he nodded, the smile condensing into a much more pleasant, close-lipped version of itself. "I am a cleanser." The smile broadened, sharp, and he leaned forward just a little more, his hands splaying long and narrow-fingered on the table. His pleasant green eyes were shining, deliberate and excited, and the metals of his arm ground quietly against the wood of the table's surface. His voice lowered, conspiratorial and trembling with passion.

"I'm on a mission from God."