fandomtownies | Café Fina, Tuesday

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naminé

Café Fina, Tuesday

Naminé was still thinking about her art project as she opened Café Fina on Tuesday.

ART IS WHAT DEFINES US
And how we define ourselves
Artists get free dessert today
(And everyone's an artist)

One of Naminé's very favorite things about working here was that no one objected to her saying things like that on the Specials Board.

Café Fina was open.

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In this thread, mod your service. The plates are happy to serve you.

She's here, with her sketchbook. Planning her mixed-media project.

"Hi, Namine," Cassandra said softly as she walked into Fina.

"Cassandra," Naminé beamed. "How are you? Come in."

"I'm... good," Cassandra almost sounded surprised.

"That's good, isn't it?" Naminé asked with a bemused smile. "You don't sound sure."

"It's good," Cassandra agreed. "Just... I didn't expect to be."

Naminé smiled softly. "I know what you mean. It's a strange feeling, isn't it?"

"Very. But... I think I like it," Cassandra grinned.

"I do, too," Naminé admitted, her eyes dancing. "Is there anything particular going on? Oooh, and shall we sit and have tea? I've been meaning to stop by when you open to return the favor, but I'm afraid I haven't had the chance yet."

Cassandra smiled and nodded, "I'd like that. Then we can talk." It was odd to be excited by that prospect.

Naminé disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tea-tray. "Mint," she said with a smile. "As always, if you hate it, it just takes a trip to the kitchen to get something else. And this time, you even know where all of that is."

"I do," Cassandra laughed. "Even... the job is good. I didn't expect to... understand it."

"I was nervous myself," Naminé admitted. "For my first shift, I mean. Not yours, I knew you'd do fine. I'd never had a job before, but Lumiere assured me everything would work itself out. And it did. They're rather wonderful, here. The plates and cheese-grater and pepper-shaker and all."

Cassandra nodded, "This was the first job I've done that didn't involve hitting people. It's... easier than I thought it would be. And harder."

"You had to hit people, before?" Naminé was pouring the hot water, and stopped, looking up with concerned eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I was good at it," She was still good at it. "I didn't know anything else, really."

"I meant ... emotionally, are you all right. That might be ... hard." Naminé shook her head. "Perhaps it's different for everyone. I was most scared because this job meant I had to ... greet people. Talk with them, smile, be polite. I was terrified I would do it wrong."

"Me too," Cassandra grinned. "Well, maybe not terrified, but... worried. I thought I'd mess it up."

"And everything went smoothly?" Naminé smiled, taking a sip of her tea. "How are you liking it, might I ask?"

"It's... interesting," she decided. "I meet people. And... talk to them." Both of which are good things, probably.

"I rather enjoy it myself," she admitted. "I think it's helping me be more ... conversational, perhaps."

Cassandra's smile widened, "That's good. More people should get to talk to you."

Naminé flushed. "You're entirely too kind. And what of you? How have things been, aside from work?"

"I have been... dancing," she grinned. "And... making friends. It has been good." Even with Bart's death still hovering around her eyes.

"Dancing? I've become rather fond of dancing, now that I know how," she smiled. "This island is good for friends, I've found. Most of the people here ... have such big hearts. It's moving."

"That's... a good way to put it." Cassandra frowned, "I still can't... say things well." She kept falling back on motions that people couldn't interpret very well.

Well, most people.

"Sometimes, when I have trouble saying what I want to say," Naminé mused, "I just find the nearest words and hope it comes out right. Even clunky words are better than none at all."

"You're good at it," Cassandra smiles. "Maybe I just need practice." She'd only had words for about two years or so.

Naminé smiled faintly. "It was harder, at first. I spent a long time in silence. Starting to speak again ... my voice seemed so loud."

"I understand," Cassandra nodded. "It was like that when I first got words. I'm still not really used to it."

"Got words?" Naminé said curiously.

"I didn't understand them until I was fifteen. I grew up without them."

"Without them?" Naminé thought for a moment. "Were you alone, or did you speak in other ways?"

"My dad thought I would be a better fighter if I could see how people moved. That's how I talked, with... movement. Even now words are... not the same." Like speaking a language poorly.

"That seems unfair," Naminé said softly. "That he got to decide that, for you. It should have been your decision to make. I hope that's not rude to say. I don't know your father."

"He... isn't a very nice man," Cassandra agreed. "And... he was right. It did make me a better fighter." Possibly the best. "And... I get by." Mostly.

"I'm sorry to be speaking against your father," she said, shaking her head. "But it shouldn't have been his decision. Whether you were a skilled fighter or not - to take part of your life from you, just to see. It seems cruel."

"Don't apologize," Cassandra shook her head. "He's a very bad man." Even if she wasn't sure how she felt about him, she knew that. "And... maybe it was cruel. It's the sort of person he is. But I didn't know any better. Didn't know what I was missing."

"I suppose not," Naminé said. "And it isn't as though you can't learn now. You do very well with it, if I may say."

That made Cassandra smile. "I try," she said softly. "And I have friends who teach me."

Naminé smiled at that. "Consider it a small repayment for dance lessons."

The smile widened, but Cassandra didn't have anything more to say. Words weren't enough anyway.

The cheese-grater is still looking for employees, mon ami.

Awwww. Chickentine.

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Café Fina, Tuesday

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I Would Like To Work Here!

OOC