faelans_folly | Entries tagged with open

Now that I don't necessarily hate what I am I've been enjoying my differences a lot more. On days that I don't work I like spending time at the cafe with Maggie. A good part of the time I like doing that in my wolf form. While my mind is still my own there's something about being in canine form that makes it easier to focus on the here and now and take joy in the little things.

The customers, at least the regulars, have gotten used to me. They don't know I'm also Jack, Maggie's boyfriend, they just think I'm the friendly wolf-like dog that likes to play with them. I've even had a few kids ride me around the shop. It's hard to hate what you are when it makes little kids giggle. There's something about the freedom of being in my wolf form that makes it okay to be... playful.

Which is what I'm in the mood for right now, playful. That's why I'm here at the shop as a wolf, eagerly greeting costumers at the door or making a nuissance of myself with Maggie and the other employees by weaving myself around their legs. I could get used to being playful.

detectivecontrary

Normally Levi's trips to the coffee shop was something that he looked forward to, a comfortable ritual and a way to group himself by seeing his oldest and closest friend. Today though, it wasn't quite the same. Today he had business.

His face set in a grim mask, he pushed open the door to the shop and made straight to the counter where a cup of coffee appeared in front of him. He hadn't even noticed who put it there, if it was Maggie or someone else. Folly had seen it's share of troubles over the years but he was worried that this might be more serious than any of them.

Taking the small vile out of his pocket, he tilted it side to side, watching the liquid gold inside swirl and shimmer. A tiny vial and it might bring the entire town to its knees.

youngpadawan

Yeah, she was not dealing with the whole young Harry thing or she was. But it was the kind of dealing that meant not looking at the Boss's- well, everything. Yeah, her schoolgirl crush on the older mentor type apparently only got worse with age. His age, his age being her age and not of the forbidden fruit type. Or maybe she just really liked Harry. Which was, you know, also a big possibility. God!- sorry dad- She liked Harry which was great and all and yet... still not getting a whole lot of anything. At this point she would take negative bases or something to deal with the whole stress of it all.

So, she was stress baking. Which, you know, not a great plan when you're a wizard with very little access to cooking things and also sucked at cooking. The apartment kind of looked like some sort of baking demon had attacked them or just a really sexually frustrated wizard. And she was totally going to ditch all responsibility of said mess until later. All she wanted was a freaking cookie.... One cookie and maybe coffee or a beer and definitely sex. Except she couldn't have sex because stupid Harry.

She'd wanted to ask Harry about it but he was young and hot and yeah, she was not asking Prequel Harry about if sex was going to make her powers influence others negatively around her. She was not going to ask that at all, so she was going to eat cookies instead and not think about how hot Harry looked without a shirt... dripping wet from the shower... yeah she was not blushing, it was just the heat.

"I need a coffee and a cookie or cake stat. Like give me all the sugary things," Molly said ordering at the front. God- sorry dad- she wanted a good, hard... cookie. Definitely cookie. Nothing else at all.

Stupid Harry Dresden.

irishcoffee

It's still strange to me, not being at the cafe all hours of the day. Arriving at five in the morning to start the day's baking, staying until past six in the evening to clean and right the place for the next day had been the rule.

Now it's the exception. Turns out, having someone to wake up next to in the morning makes leaving bed to mix scones the absolute last thing I want to do when the sun starts to lighten the sky.

Two assistants take care of morning and evening prep and cleaning. I breeze in around ten in the morning and head out around four when Jack comes by to pick me up on his way home.

Some days I don't make it in at all.

Today, though, I'm readying the cafe to welcome the equinox. Pumpkin spice lattes, muffins and breads. Hot cider and thick, rich stews will take the place of the chilled beverages and fruit from the summer.

Based on the smiles I see from the people coming through the doors and reading the day's menu board, the changes are welcome ones.

detectivecontrary

He knew that you were supposed to keep track of these sorts of things, how long you've been sober and all of that, but he hadn't been. Of course, it hadn't been a true sobriety. The unfortunate thing was that Levi really did need the pain medication to deal with the headaches. He had been rationing them carefully, limiting himself to how many he could have a day and trying his best to keep the actual amount he used under that number.

He was having some success with that but he still hated that he had to do it. Levi wasn't sure if he'd ever stop feeling like a junkie. It was pathetic, or at least he felt that he was. Every day at work he saw what happened to those types of people and it made him feel like his life was a lie. Like it was just a facade covering up who he really was.

Sighing he collapsed on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"Maybe my family was right about me," he said. "Maybe I am a useless disappointment."

irishcoffee

It was without a doubt, Maggie's least favorite day.

Mother's Day wasn't far behind it but she only had vague memories of her mother. She'd been six when the woman had dropped back out of The Folly. Long enough for Maggie to remember her, but not long enough for anything to remain in her mind beyond little shadows in her mind.

Her father's exit. That she remembered clearly, considering she'd been the one that found him when the last of his attempts to bring her back to the Folly had failed. Magic drained after five years of these attempts, he'd been unable to fight the depression, unable to see anything beyond the loss of the love of his life.

Unable to see the daughter he'd be leaving behind.

She'd seen first hand what magical exhaustion did now that she was fully in her magic now. When she'd been eleven and sent to her foster home, it hadn't been as easy to see at all. She still hated him for leaving, still wished she'd been enough to keep him from giving up, but now, she was a little more accepting of it all.

When she saw a vaguely familiar woman at his gravesite, it took everything she had not to pull the earth, wind and water to her to blast the woman, and the trash around the headstone, into the forest so deep even Bella wouldn't be able to find her.

"Excuse me, but who are you?"

irishcoffee

Maggie dumped the last full dustpan into the garbage can and surveyed her cafe.

Broken tables, the pastry case smashed, coffee and tea tins turned into a sludge that had covered the floor. And like a cherry on top, every bag from the dumpster upended in her kitchen.

Once she'd made her post to the main community and the last of the crime scene unit Levi had left after taking her statement, and ranting out more than a little anger over what had been done.

It wasn't the first time she'd had to endure hatred like this - she was the only Donnelly left in the Folly, she was the direct descendant of the town's founder. She'd known from the time she was in her early teens that she had a big ass target on her back.

This was the first time it had ever hit something she cared about; something she loved. She didn't know whether or not to be scared or pissed off, and that upset her even more.

When the bell over the door chimed, she bit out some of that upset.

"In case the big 'Closed' sign was misleading, the only coffee being served today is out of a thermos and the pastries are on hold until I can get the garbage out of my ovens."

detectivecontrary

Levi had been enjoying the pleasant weather they were having lately, which had been a nice change after the storms of a week or so ago. It wasn't quite warm enough for him to switch away from his regular morning coffee, but it was getting there.

Sipping from his mug, he took another bite of pastry before checking that morning's news paper. Since Folly was relatively small, nearly everything was news. There wasn't anything too interesting though, nothing he didn't already know from work, so he folded it carefully and left it for the next person.

Taking a bite of his Danish, Levi leaned back in the booth and enjoyed the idea of a relatively relaxing work day.

gatherglass

It hadn't taken him long to find out where the garage was. Just one question at the first mechanic he'd found (hot redhead) and he'd been told where she'd worked. He'd also, unfortunately, had to field and decline several offers for the Chevelle he had on collateral. He already knew he was going to spend a few happy moments remembering the one guy's offer.

He stopped that imagination train before it could get going and pulled into the lot of Alex's place and got out to saunter towards the bay. The gods were definitely smiling on him today beause when he found her, she was bent over the car and he was able to take full stock of her ass. Damn. Just...damn.

"You know," he said when he was composed enough for speech, "if you wanted to keep the car you could have just told me."

everywere

I check all the locks and alarms again, even though I did that all on my last sweep. Routine is both an enemy and an ally. As long as I don't use the routine to become lazy and remain alert, it's my ally. Not that this place is a likely target but lack of vigilance is an enemy.

I can hear the training drilled into my head, even if I don't remember where and when it came from. Like everything else I know it's just there. No memory of how or why, just there.

I hear a sound, faint, but definitely there. No human could hear it, but then I'm not human. I don't know what I am, exactly, but I'm not human.

I sweep the flashlight back and forth, although I keep it on more to blind others than help me see. I can see perfectly in the dark, just like I can hear things a human shouldn't. I take a deep breath and I can smell that whatever it is, it's a human. Or at least smells similar to a human.

"Who's there?" I call out.

youngpadawan

Harry had done a thing. This was definitely a Harry thing. If she had to guess on how much of a stupid Harry thing that Harry had done? It was definitely at about a nine, which on the Scale was akin to wearing a leather and metal bikini around a giant fugly slug creature. So, Harry had done a thing Again and she had to pick up the pieces. In her towel. Yeah, Harry had definitely done a thing worth killing for. Or at least Mom level of scary glare at him.

"And he would've gotten away with it to if it hadn't have been for those darn pesky kids, come on Obi-Wan not really getting the whole point of this little lesson!" Molly said to the air, raising her hands above her head and almost giving a couple of hey, faeries and just her kind of faeries. "You guys want to help a girl out and in return I promise I'll buy you guys a slice of pizza?"

Yeah, who was the big bad faerie tamer that would be her. Now, all she had to do was get some clothes, get her magic on and find her stupid ass Captain oh Captain. Wherever he was, he better have his damn coat on him because it was cold. And was that a door? She was definitely going to exit stage right because damn that place smelt like coffee.

kilnfired

Brigid set the last of the day's work into the kiln and closed the door. It was still a little chilly during the day so she didn't have any compunction about using the oven during the day. When summer came, she'd do her firing at night so her workshop and studio wouldn't be so stiflingly hot they kept people from lingering.

Lingerers took her pieces home, asked questions, wanted lessons. People wilting from the heat took a glance in and kept going. So not the point of the colony. Finn, she knew, didn't give a rats ass if anyone looked at his pieces, watched him make them, or took them home.

Hell, he'd probably be just as happy to take the lot into the forest and smash them all against the trees if he ran out of room. He made glass for him, if others wanted to cart it home that was fine, too. Questions were a little different and depended on his mood or, more specifically, how recently he'd been laid.

Since he hadn't been off the compound in a week, he seriously worried for the next person that asked about his blowing technique.

Giggling at herself, Brigid pulled clay from the grog and put it on the wedging table in front of her studio. She could have put the table inside, and would in winter or rainy weather, but the second the weather cleared, she'd bribed Finn into moving it. She wanted fresh air and sunshine today.

"What's so funny?" asked a voice just beside her.

"Nothing much," she smiled innocently back at her brother.

He answered with an eyebrow.

"Imagining what'll happen during open studio hours today if anyone asks about your blowing technique," she answered at last.

Because it was her, and not a stranger, Finn smiled back. "At this point, probably an outright offer for a hands on demonstration."

"Hands on?"

"Mouth on," Finn laughed and kissed her forehead as they heard the cars start to pull in to park.

"If I find anyone promising, I'll send them on," Brigid promised with a pat to his cheek. "I know it's not the same when it's me."

Finn sighed. "No, it isn't."

Brigid got up and wrapped her brother in a hug which he returned. "Think we'll ever find anyone we trust enough?"

Finn kissed her forehead. "I don't think that person exists, Brig. Put it out of your head, okay? Looking for shit that doesn't exist will just depress you. Dinner tonight?" he finished stepping from her embrace to head over to his studio before some idiot decided to start fucking around with things marked with the confusing signs that spelled out in huge block letters that his tools were hot and not to touch them.

"Dinner tonight," she answered and started wedging the clay in front of her.

Finn's in the glass (blowing) house, Brigid's in the pottery studio, put in the subject line who you want.

irishcoffee

Maggie finished the chalk easel for the front of the cafe, embellishing the announcements of specials with sunny wildflowers and scrolled ivy leaves. As she walked it out to put on the sidewalk in front of the store, she stopped to let the sun warm her face.

It had rained in Faelan's Folly for a week - starting with storms full of thunder and ear-splitting lightning strikes until tapering off to yesterday's lighter clouds and soft soaking rain to last night's light drizzle.

She'd spent most of her off time during the week near the monument, the flat stone just off the park grounds that was, for all intents, the heart of the Folly. There were rumors about it, of course, some of them right on the mark. Not that she'd ever confirm it.

The monument was also where she rechared, reset her magic and reconnected with the elements that bowed to her. At midnight last night, she knew it was time to get back to business, back to herself, and move herself forward.

Maggie pulled water from a nearby puddle, rinsed the chalk from her fingers, and settled in to help her morning regulars get the caffeine they needed to start their day.

irishcoffee

Once the last of the Saturday breakfast crowd had thinned, Maggie settled into her favorite part of the week.

It was the day before the Sunday brunch and after church crowd, not the daily grind of the weekend; it was just a quiet Saturday afternoon. She had her tea, a plate of cookies some of the town's resident's called biscuits, a fire in the grate, and a book. Perfect for a rainy afternoon with nothing much pressing on her time but worries about her best friend.

A best friend who had better show up if he knew what was good for him.

For anyone else that stopped by, she had the usual coffees and teas and fresh things to eat. Today was just her one day to relax between the odd customers that trickled in rather than flit around the coffee shop with busy work.

irishcoffee

The Ball itself hadn't started out as anything so grand as it was now. The first was more like a few drinks raised at the end of a hard-fought battle; the first attendees too exhausted, mentally and physically, to do more than drain a few barrels of whiskey and stumble home.

The year following - the first anniversary of their triumph. Now that one had been a party, or so she'd read in her ancestor's journals. After that, the party had become tradition and had grown as the town did until it became what it was today.

A full formal, catered ball that took up two ballrooms in the biggest hotel in downtown.

The magic that ran the town ran the ball as well, so all Maggie was left to do was supervise, twitch a spell here and there if something went awry, and enjoy watching the residents enjoy themselves.

Maggie plucked a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped at it as she walked (barefoot, of course), proud of the town it was her responsibility to care for, no matter how it had wronged her from the start.

malachai

Right. New realm, new dimension, new whatthefuckever.

It was someplace he'd never been before and that was good enough for Nick. Whatever the little witch at the coffee joint had told him, he knew he wasn't home, he wasn't on Olympus, and he, thank the gods, wasn't in Azmodea.

Just a new place filled with new people. And for a guy who'd walked around Earth and its realms for something over two hundred years, new was good.

So far the humans he'd found had given him a wide berth and that only made him laugh. Apparently, some things didn't change no matter where you were. And despite the outcome of his own battle with the whole Ultimate Fate thing, and coming out of it clearly on the side of humans, he couldn't shed that whole 'shit, this dude's going to kill me' vibe he put out.

Normally, he didn't give a fuck. But it seriously got in the way of getting laid around here. At least, as far as anyone worth laying went. He didn't, as a general rule, bang the suicidal. There was something about being asked to strangle someone while your cock was buried inside them that seriously killed the mood. No pun intended.

Tonight's particularly needy applicant had tried to be subtle about it - asking for details about his kinks, what the risks were. It was the way her eyes lit up when she'd asked if there was a chance she could die that had him asking for the check. Not that there was money here or anything.

He'd danced a little longer after the kink girl had given him up, fended off a few gropes, and then headed out of the club. He had about two hours until dawn, and he never liked to cut it that close. Just in case something happened.

Because something usually did.

justthemessenger

Sam hadn't slept well in a while, not since Mikaela had dumped him. Brutally, brutally dumped him and ripped out his heart and stomped on it on the ground. Which may have been an exaggeration. It was really about as good a dumping as you could get given the circumstances. Quick, over a long distance so there was no awkwardly running into each other, and with a change in cellphone number so he couldn't call her endlessly to try and get back together.

The sleeping thing wasn't really Mikaela's fault. Not directly. Sam had gotten the Autobots in the post-break up mess, and they were seriously annoying. It made him miss Bee so badly. The others weren't evil, they were just annoying and had no need to sleep.

So when he found himself falling flat on his face in the middle of the night, he was pretty sure the Autobots were behind it.

"Wheelie!" he shouted, still lying face down on the (surprisingly cold) floor in his boxers. "Brain! What did we talk about about waking me up? We talked about not waking me up unless it's an emergency."

curiously_cora

There was twenty percent chance of precipitation. There was eighty percent chance of just mild, partly cloudy weather. There was a hundred percent chance that Coraline Jones no matter how old she was, was still going to wear Wellington boots. Boots that were definitely made for walking and also splashing around in puddles but being a grown up definitely put her plans of you know splashy-fun on the back burner. Splashy fun and adventures was for kids, she was a grown up and had to do grown up things like find a job, furnish an apartment and definitely-

"-buy cat food. It sucks being a mature, responsible adult. Who talks to themselves. Come on old faithful, let's start walking. The pet shop is down this way I think," Coraline said with a smile, kicking the back of her wellies. So far she hadn't magic kicked herself back home but well, you never knew. Never hurt to try something different. Coraline opened the door to the dingy looking shop. "Okay... maybe not that different."

Leather and whips and chains oh my... definitely not the kind for cats.

"Nope, sorry wrong place oh wow." Coraline said with flushed cheeks backing out and walking straight back into someone. Yep, twenty percent chance of rain but eighty percent chance of her always being a complete and utter klutz.

irishcoffee

Maggie looked around the semi-filled cafe as she wiped down the counter and checked the case. Apparently, the onset of spring wasn't only bringing life back to the flora around them, but also a realization that bathing suits aren't far away.

The pastries were full, the fruit and yogurt were utterly depleted, the all-natural granola and oatmeal also showing signs its popularity.

She laughed softly and took out a pastry, setting it on a plate to snack on between the early morning rush and the one filled with students and those that started work a little later. As she snacked, she changed out coffee carafes, pulled supplies and started to refill the case with the healthier breakfast selections.

Humming as she worked, her eyes darted up every now and then to the counter. Just in case someone new dropped in. Again.

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A place for the rest of us

Entries tagged with open

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