Just walk right in, it's around the back...

[ooeeooahah]

[ Downtown, Midday, open to anyone in town ]

[ One of the buildings has been getting a good bit of attention. The week has seen many things attached to the roof, or added to the alley behind the building that might have been the diner. While the exterior has not been that polished, it has been cleaned and made weather-tight. ]

[ Today, there are three additions to the windows in the front of the building. ]

[ First, the largest addition has been a chalkboard sign in the window, declaring Today's Special to be Pancakes with Fruit. ]

[ Second, there is a cardboard sign requesting volunteers for additional cooks and servers, shifts negotiable. ]

[ Third, a small, neatly hand-lettered sign notes that Dr. Ilsa Higa is available for counseling. ]

[ Inside, there are only two tables for four, but plenty of space for more. However, there are ten stools at the counter. Ilsa is behind the counter, putting away clean dishes in the shelves above the grill, generally straightening up. ]

Comments

[spitefulvitae]

[She takes the mug, peers inside, then frowns thoughtfully at it. And in the blink of an eye, it's full of blood. Which Natalie proceeds to take a dignified sip of.]

...yes, so I can't go slaughtering drones anymore. I think this might be a valid alternative.

[She grins. She shrugs. Then she sets the mug down on the countertop, fingers still wrapped around it, to answer Ilsa's question.]

I like it well enough. I like to create. The town just seemed to have more call for me to bake things than to have me write poems or essays or whatever.

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa watches as Natalie conjures up a mug o' blood. ]

Hm. I hope so. Otherwise we might need to start a blood bank.

[ She thinks a moment. ]

Were you ever in the track to teach, maybe?

[spitefulvitae]

Ugh. Blood bank. It's so much better fresh...

[Natalie grimaces, then takes another sip of her freshly-conjured beverage.]

Not particularly. By the time that I should have been preparing to graduate, all of my free time was being occupied by... other things.

[Her brow furrows and her gaze lowers slightly. And she takes another sip of blood.]

...worried about me making a worthwhile contribution to our new community?

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa shrugs. ] Nearly two years in Mayfield, I tend to think of back-up plans. Any road, I'm more worried about you getting bored.

[ Ilsa chuckles. ] It would be interesting to see the poetry our time in Mayfield would inspire.

[spitefulvitae]

[She smiles immediately at the talk of her 'getting bored'. Ilsa's heart was ever in the right place, wasn't it?]

I have a house to build and a garden to grow. That should keep me occupied for a little while. [And a housemate with green blood and the odd rage issue to get to know better, but Ilsa didn't need to know that just yet.

She hums, then turns her eyes to the ceiling to consider her words for a minute or so.]

'Smiles on every face,
But hollowness in those eyes.
Do not drink the milk.'

[Her head lowers, and there's an intensity to her look.]

...paper. Have you got paper?

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa hops up, grabbing one of the boxes out of the recycling, flipping it inside out for the blank smooth card stock and hands it to Natalie with a pen. ]

Here, I don't have order pads yet, but I do have paper in the office.

[ The "office" is where she and Tarvek have been sleeping instead of rebuilding a house. Ilsa ducks around the corner to look for an unused notepad. ]

[spitefulvitae]

[Cardboard is a kind of paper. And that's good enough for her. She accepts it and the pen with a small nod and a soft 'thank you.' And then she's hastily jotting out words and lines.]

This should be enough. I think...

[...it had been far too long since she had written. But the ideas that were coming to her...]

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa returns with an small notepad, ] Here, you might need it when you aren't at your desk.

[ Taking the seat by Natalie again, she nods. ] Good to be able to get back to what we were when we were taken.

[spitefulvitae]

[Natalie nods absently, pulls the notepad a bit closer, then takes a long gulp from her mug of blood. Best to have it while it's still somewhat warm, and uncoagulated.]

Mn, I suppose...

[There's some high, entirely-too-amused laughter from her. Getting back to what she was doing when she was taken was... not this.]

I'd rather do something better with my time than that....

[If Ilsa cares to peer at what Natalie has written so far, there are many disconnected possible pieces of haiku... and one finished set of lines that she has isolated off separately.

'Who lies next to me?
Not the one from yesterday.
It begins again.']

[ooeeooahah]

Ah, for some it's a new beginning. Tarvek doesn't talk much about what he left behind, but he has let slip that he enjoys not having to worry about assassins every waking moment...

[ She sighs, looking at the partially-assembled something in the corner. ]

Once you took the random acts of insanity out of the equation, Mayfield could have been that better place. But Zemekis was insane, after all.

[spitefulvitae]

Assassins? I think I see why he's so high-strung. I'm happy for him, I truly am...

[It's said absently and half-heartedly, before she downs the rest of her drink and sets the mug aside. A little bit of blood lingers on her lips, but she's quick to lick it away.]

Better is relative. Better is about perspective. I haven't decided for myself if this is better or not... but it is. I'll settle for is, for being, because I don't like the alternative.

[ooeeooahah]

Considering the alternative, yep.

[ She restrains herself from getting the mug just yet, as Natalie might not be finished with it. ]

Oddly enough, this is a path I hadn't considered taking in the past several years. [ She gestures, indicating the diner. ] The business part of the restaurant business was the thing to drive me into pre-med.

[spitefulvitae]

[The mug wasn't set aside terribly far... but Natalie seems quite preoccupied with her writing.

Though that new tidbit of information about Ilsa does make her lift her head and smile somewhat.]

Oh? So you've done this before? And it wasn't to your taste... why the change of heart, now? It's something we need, maybe?

[ooeeooahah]

Well, besides the need to take care of everyone?

[ Ilsa chuckles deprecatingly. ]

In college, I did well and enjoyed the technical aspects of the business. The creativity of the kitchen, the nurturing of the guest - those were wonderful... but the need to make a profit, the marketing, all the things that seemed to be more grasping than giving, those I couldn't seem to manage well enough beyond a passing grade. Even the soup kitchen required some form of selling, if only for donations.