See I was on the verge of breaking down. Sometimes silence can seem so loud
[OOC: Over a year ago, I made a post with all 14 of my characters that almost reached 925 comments. I only have 8 characters now, but lets see how far that goes. :D Feel free to tag in. Multiple times with one character or with multiple chars. It's open for forever. And I know there have been a lot of posts lately but I haven't made one in over a
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Oh, Anne. Don't believe everything Robin says. He is often full of himself, and the narration thinks that if someone applies themselves to making coffee... they could make coffee as well as he can.
"Don't... do that," Robin says, making a bit of a face. "Don't sound so discouraged. This is why I have all of these coffee pots here. If you practice, with experience, you will find that certain way of making coffee that makes it your own."
Robin does not understand why the narration would think that she couldn't say that with a straight face.
"You're already thinking about the details of the coffee, what makes it pure and what doesn't so you're on the right track," he informs her, and he pays no attention to the fact that he said something encouraging.
He is a changed man. He is capable of being encouraging. Honest.
"And you're thinking of what the individual wants as opposed to what would be good for the passes like your ordinary coffee chain. This is what will make you different than Starbucks. This is why your employer will come to you instead of ordering something from the drive thru, understand?"
Dear Lord, Robin, you really are serious business about this coffee.
Robin is going to attempt to look down at what she's written so far, and then he actually does smile. It doesn't last very long because they are in the middle of serious business, but he smiles and then moves on to the next coffee pot.
"I'm going to show you how I make a pot, and then you'll see how each cup of coffee has a unique taste, depending on the maker."
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She's going to take that as a good sign, whether he's making a face or not. She nods, a little wide-eyed, and she straightens into a more proper sitting position. "I will practice very, very hard."
Anne may be starry-eyed. The narration is not.
THIS NARRATION IS NOT GETTING INTO IT WITH YOU, ROBIN. SO SHUT YOUR FACE.
Anne bites her lip so as not to preen. He sounds encouraging! He's giving her tips! This means she's doing good. "I understand, yes," Anne says with more vehement nodding. She doesn't add the sir, and she doesn't quite want to call him Robin when they are speaking of such serious matters.
Knowing how to make good coffee is a very serious matter. "I don't like Starbucks, really. They stuff too much into the coffee and if you're buying the iced drinks than you really want the sugar and caramel and not so much...the actual coffee."
Anne clears her throat. That could have been less articulate so really, she's not doing that bad. So far. Maybe. Please take her under your wing forever, Robin. She wants this acceptance.
She almost falls out of her chair in her haste to go stand beside him. She brings her notepad with her since she will, of course take notes. So as long as she understands her coffee will never taste like Robin's.
"...Can I try your coffee when we're done?"
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She has better coffee than he expected for one so young who has only been 'professionally' making coffee for a year. "Good," Robin says, glancing at her. "You'll need the practice if you want to be good."
Not the best, of course. Robin Rice will always be the best personal assistant in the history of all time. There is no way anyone can ever prove this so no one will ever be able to tell him that he's wrong about that.
ROBIN SAYS HE DOES NOT HAVE TO LISTEN TO ANY NARRATION EVER.
Oh, Anne, your adorable is killing the narration. Robin nods when she says that she understands, because that's a good sign too. There are people who would scoff at how seriously he's taking coffee, but it is incredibly important for people in their line of work.
"I'm glad you feel that way about Starbucks. It is the Satan of coffee, and I can't begin to say all the ways that it is ruining people's ability to tell good coffee from bad. If you hadn't felt this way, I would have had to have you taken out back and shot," Robin says, and unfortunately, those acting classes make it so that he's able to get through the pain of the lie and look completely serious when he says that.
Robin begins to make the coffee, and he makes it so fast that it's likely going to take a lot of writing for her to keep up.
And that makes him actually laugh. "Yes, of course you can," he smirks, and it's utterly, helplessly charming because that's just how he is naturally. "It's not as if my coffee is some sacred drink for a select few. If you have good coffee, it's your responsibility to share it with the world."
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"Well, I'm going to be working here most afternoons after I get off school," she offers with a little more determination. "Are you here often?"
That is not a random question, Robin. Anne might want to follow you around now within the Kashtta walls should she ever need approval over something. Particularly if it involves coffee, but this includes all personal assistant tasks.
Anne's eyes widen. She doesn't say anything, though she is thinking it, and nearly drops the coffee pot she'd had a good hold on. Please do not shoot me, Robin. She swallows hard, eyes trained on the scuffs of her sleeves.
She is still far too intimidated to really notice how charming that smile is. He did just say he'd shoot her. He sounded rather serious about it. However, if he is offering her coffee perhaps he won't take it too seriously.
Anne inches further toward him, watching him work. She's writing down furiously in her notepad and her hands might ache once she is done, BUT IT WILL BE WORTH IT.
"It smells really good," she says quietly, and studies his hands since she never really looks at most people from the neck up. He doesn't read as wanderer to her, and there aren't any other demons here, so far as she knows so...angel. She won't ask about that, either. Anne's kind of terrified of all the angels here and being the lone demon as it is.
"Do you live here at the Tower or...whose personal assistant are you?"
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"Yes, I'm here almost every day," Robin says, and then he gives her a rather curious look. "...why?"
Oh, yes, Robin. Embarrass her more. This is exactly what Anne needs in her life, but he can't really help it.
Robin bites back a laugh at her reaction. He was completely aware of how she'd react to those words, especially if he said them as seriously as he did. "I won't actually shoot you or anyone else," he assures her, and the charming smile slips into a smirk instead.
He makes fun of you, because he likes you, Anne. Honest. There's promise in you. If she can start gaining some confidence in herself. She doesn't have to have as much confidence as Robin exudes, but... a little more would help her out a lot.
He's also smiling because he can hear how furiously she's writing.
Robin pours out a mug of his coffee and then he holds it out to her, looking as confident as he ever has. "Yes, that's where it starts. In the scent. You make them fall in love with that first, and every time they smell it, they associate it with that first taste."
It's how people can get hooked on coffee. They smell something similar, and they want their favorite kind as opposed to any old cup.
"I don't live here, and I'm everyone's personal assistant," he says, looking a little proud as he says that and realizing perfectly well that that answered nothing. "I used to be Romana's. She was a First Angel."
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Being an awkward failboat is so hard.
"Just in case I have...a question," she says shyly. "...Or two."
Or twenty. Who's counting?
"OH! Oh. No, I--I knew that," she says, practically beaming when his smile shifts into a smirk. She adds some nervous laughter to this because no, she totally did not know that but now she does and this is good. Not being shot is good. "Good one!"
Shut up now, Anne.
The mug of coffee will be stared at with a hint of wonder. Anne's hands almost slowly reach for it, and she leans into the smell. It is a delicious smell. Far more delicious than her coffee smelled.
Anne lets out a little squeak. It's only because the coffee smells so good Anne doesn't drop it. "You were a personal assistant to a First?" she breathes out, trusting his expertise now more than ever. She cradles the mug between both hands. If she did not have this mug, there might be handflailing.
Once that is over with, she finally tries Robin Rice's coffe--and is never the same again.
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"Ah," he says in response, pretending as if he doesn't notice how shy and awkward she's being. He'll simply be charmingly nonchalant. "A question or two. I see."
Who's counting? Indeed. Robin loves it. He may even complain about her asking him so many questions, but he secretly loves it.
"Of course, you knew that," he says with a smirk and the sarcasm that proves that he knows she had no idea that he wasn't being serious. "I thought you'd think so."
Oh, Anne. The narration loves you so.
Robin appreciates the fact that she notices how good his coffee smells, and he leans back against the counter as he looks at her, waiting for her to give it a try. There are no nerves, of course. It's impossible to be nervous when he makes the best coffee in... the world.
"Yes, I was a personal assistant to a First. The oldest First in the world at that time in fact," he says. "You get a lot of experience quickly that way. Firsts are rather finicky."
And rude if things don't go exactly as they feel they should.
The narration dies, but it's true. Her life has forever been changed.
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At the very least, she genuinely believes he doesn't notice and is saved from further awkwardness.
She had no idea he wasn't being serious. It's not her fault she isn't very good at reading emotional cues. She fails at social interaction and various other things, as the narration has already stated.
"Oh, I don't...I don't think a First would ever want me as their personal assistant but that's good to know." And for once, it's not even self-deprecation, simply a statement that's rather matter-of-fact.
"I'm...I'm a demon," she says, by way of explanation. It's still incredibly strange to call herself that. She doesn't like to but she wins nothing by trying to hide it.
That and she already told Miss Jones, so she wouldn't think the whole never-meeting-your-gaze thing was too weird.
From what she's seen and heard, angels and demons usually mix like oil and water. Firsts are the most judgmental of the sort. Demons and wanderers are beneath them. It's a miracle Anne managed to step foot into the Tower at all.
The memory of Jason often lets her do things she wouldn't ordinarily. It's like she borrows his courage now that he's gone, since she has none of her own.
It has been forever changed. Anne has to sit back on her stool to properly appreciate the coffee. It's likely she won't let go of it anytime soon.
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Way to make things serious, Robin.
However, he doesn't seem to be very serious at all. It's all said deceptively casually, and he only turns his attention on her again when she speaks about a first not wanting her to be an assistant to them. Robin is well aware of why that is, and he waits to see if she'll admit it.
I'm a demon.
There's a long silence from him, but he's looking at her in a careful, quiet manner.
"I know," he says, finally, and then he's still quiet as he continues. "I could tell. A charun, correct?"
It's strange and horrible to think of such a small, awkward, stumbling girl to have a calling that would force her to kill. Robin relates to it.
A smile pulls across his lips. It's somehow both gentle and cocky at the look on her face as she sits back on the stool. She does not have to say a thing. He is well aware of what she just experienced, and he pours a cup for himself. Robin has had so much coffee in a short amount of time. It's going to start affecting him soon.
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It's true, sometimes there are no answers, and sometimes things don't make sense no matter how hard you try to make sense of them, and he seems to have all the answers.
So she will now be asking him thousands of questions in the future. "True but until that time comes I will..." Anne clears her throat. Shy and awkward again, ahoy. "I will be having questions. If you don't...mind."
She'd never heard of the term before. 'Charun' was just something she'd read in literature class when they were focusing on Dante's inferno. It didn't mean anything until David told her that's what she was called.
Anne bites down on her lip, increasingly self-conscious. She normally wouldn't talk about it ever. And he is the coffee god so she will just give him a meek nod and stare down at her mug.
It's best if people knows, she supposes. She certainly told Miss Jones about it. She does defer to Martha and look up to her a great deal. It would be wrong of her not to just in case...just in case.
Someone chooses to walk into the kitchen and Anne nearly falls off her chair for the second time. Clearly the third will be the charm.
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The someone in question is Rachel, having finished rounds with Martha.
Her thermos is empty. This is sad.
She studies them both, leaning against the door frame. Her eyes take in all the coffee pots and how the young girl nearly falls off her chair awkwardly with a small squeak.
"You're not being mean to Anne, are you, Robin?"
She sounds amused, but she does hope he's been behaving.
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"I don't mind," he admits. The narration is a little surprised that he actually admitted that he doesn't mind that she'd be asking questions.
Apparently, he's less worried about his reputation as someone to be avoided as he used to be. Also, he's pretty much lost that reputation entirely at some point in these last few months. No one really knows when. As long as he's still intimidating, Robin can live with not being seen as a mean person.
He is enjoying his own coffee when he hears someone walk in, and he is quite happy to see that that someone is Rachel Dawes. Robin turns to her with a smile on his face.
"I'm never mean to anyone, Ms. Dawes." That lie creates a certain amount of pain, but he manages to make it through that without wincing. "Are you in need of a fresh thermos full of coffee? Because I've only just made a pot. Anne is having her first cup, and she has been rendered speechless, of course."
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"I am," she answers, stepping into the kitchen. She shows him the empty thermos and smiles winningly.
She'd love all the coffee ever, Robin.
"He makes the best coffee ever, Miss Dawes," Anne breathes out, and then she's back to finishing her cup.
Rachel makes a face at Robin once Anne has turned her attention back to the coffee. The last thing he needs is further incentive for his ego to get any bigger.
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He is going to completely ignore that face, Rachel, because it's not his ego when it's true.
"Your coffee, m'lady," he says, and it's half sarcastic but all charming with a wide grin as he holds that filled thermos up to her. "I was simply teaching Anne the intricacies of making coffee and being a good personal assistant, which I know that you know I'm so good at."
Yes, his ego needed no boost at all, but he certainly appreciates the compliments, Anne.
The narration hopes that Anne has finished her coffee, because there's a familiar boy walking in through the cafeteria doors.
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He is looking for Anne, and it's only luck that he manages to walk in the right room to find her.
And there are other people here. Awkward.
"Hey," he says in Anne's general direction and then he looks from one person to the other... and stands in the middle of the cafeteria like an awkward failboat.
And then he walks forward again. "I'm... David. I came for Anne. I came... to see if she wanted to... do something."
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