The big A(h)
Basically the summary of character personalities in this year's NaNoWriMo:
"They need a cake in the shape of a whale! In, like, two hours!"
Marque looked up with a scowl. "What."
Eris scowled back. "I wasn't the one who asked for it! Some woman called up, and she's willing to pay double the amount a speciality cake costs, and, umm... Your reputation got ahead of us. She had sparkling faith in her voice."
Marque massaged his temple, and there was icing sugar dusting it. "Right. I know a guy who works with the blacksmith-"
"It's not a hundred years ago. Is there a blacksmith anywhere in this world?!" Dominic, the head waiter piped in, grinning.
Marque threw a cake knife at him. "Since I know a person who works for one, obviously, yes. I'll give him a call and ask him to make a suitable cake tin. He owes me a favour, so if I get the ingredients done now-"
"But-"
"What is with you people and interruptions?"
Margaret, the girl-who-didn't-work-here-but-always-hung-around-probably-for-Seph-who-was-a-regular pouted at him. "Couldn't you just bake a really big cake and carve the shape out? Or worse comes to worst, make it so alcoholic the fumes will delude the customers!"
Marque refused to throw things at a girl, so threw another cake knife at Dominic (since it was always his fault anyways).
"Yes, because before I applied for a job here I neglected to mention my background in woodcarving. I made totem poles for native Americans. They call me Volcano That Will Erupt And Kill All Annoyances Around Him."
"No need to get so crabby!" Eris scolded.
Marque threw yet another cake knife at Dominic, who didn't bother dodging (since Eris was his sister and, really, he was somewhat responsible).
"You going to do it then?"
She shook her head.
A quiet voice interrupted their growling session.
"I can do it." It was the little Italian kid, Aquila, Marque's apprentice. Everyone stared at him, but he was looking at the floor.
Marque sighed. "It's okay, you don't have to cover for these idiots."
Aquila looked up and there was something in his eyes....
A switchblade slid out his sleeve.
"I really can do it."
*
And that was how crisis was averted at the White Horse Bakery and Cafe.
"They need a cake in the shape of a whale! In, like, two hours!"
Marque looked up with a scowl. "What."
Eris scowled back. "I wasn't the one who asked for it! Some woman called up, and she's willing to pay double the amount a speciality cake costs, and, umm... Your reputation got ahead of us. She had sparkling faith in her voice."
Marque massaged his temple, and there was icing sugar dusting it. "Right. I know a guy who works with the blacksmith-"
"It's not a hundred years ago. Is there a blacksmith anywhere in this world?!" Dominic, the head waiter piped in, grinning.
Marque threw a cake knife at him. "Since I know a person who works for one, obviously, yes. I'll give him a call and ask him to make a suitable cake tin. He owes me a favour, so if I get the ingredients done now-"
"But-"
"What is with you people and interruptions?"
Margaret, the girl-who-didn't-work-here-but-always-hung-around-probably-for-Seph-who-was-a-regular pouted at him. "Couldn't you just bake a really big cake and carve the shape out? Or worse comes to worst, make it so alcoholic the fumes will delude the customers!"
Marque refused to throw things at a girl, so threw another cake knife at Dominic (since it was always his fault anyways).
"Yes, because before I applied for a job here I neglected to mention my background in woodcarving. I made totem poles for native Americans. They call me Volcano That Will Erupt And Kill All Annoyances Around Him."
"No need to get so crabby!" Eris scolded.
Marque threw yet another cake knife at Dominic, who didn't bother dodging (since Eris was his sister and, really, he was somewhat responsible).
"You going to do it then?"
She shook her head.
A quiet voice interrupted their growling session.
"I can do it." It was the little Italian kid, Aquila, Marque's apprentice. Everyone stared at him, but he was looking at the floor.
Marque sighed. "It's okay, you don't have to cover for these idiots."
Aquila looked up and there was something in his eyes....
A switchblade slid out his sleeve.
"I really can do it."
*
And that was how crisis was averted at the White Horse Bakery and Cafe.