fandomtownies | Cafe Fina, Sunday

Today was 'curl up in a ball and whimper day' for Zack, who had woken up cramped in that booth at the radio station with scribbles on his face, mud in his hair, and his first hangover ever. There wasn't a status modifier item invented yet that could change exactly how fiercely he was loathe to face the day.

And then he'd shown up for work. At Cafe Fina. Where they were cooking. Food.

Today's Specials:
Lemon in Black Coffee
Banana and Honey Smoothie
Chicken Soup
(Half-off if you're seeking out hangover remedies, today. Double cost if you're the one who got Zack drunk and/or the one who drew on his face.)

Okay, today was 'curl up in a ball and whimper while trying not to vomit and poutily tolerating the napkins as they cleaned him up' day.

He was lucky he had such understanding coworkers, really. They were here, instead of taking part over at that music convention that they'd probably feel right at home at.

[OOC: Fina is open for all of your singing anthropomorphic dishes and/or dining needs!]

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"You look all right to me. And you should have seen some of the crazy stuff we used to have to wear. Cee's really great, but she can't really make nice clothes."

Or clothes that fit. Or clothes that wouldn't blind Edna Mode.

Ah, but Edna was a woman of refined tastes!

"Fiona helped me pick out this stuff," Zack pointed out. "And otherwise, I'm just wearing my uniform from back home. Army boots and armor, that sort of thing. I don't usually wear the helmet."

It was a ridiculous helmet. It didn't have any eyeholes!

"Fiona?" he asked in surprise.

But then his eyes went a little wide and his hand went back towards his pack.

"....you're a soldier?"

Zack nodded, a careful, still-painfully-hungver sort of nod, glancing warily at the hand that was reaching for the pack. Huh.

"I am, back home. In Midgar. On Gaia. Which is nothing like here? Mostly?"

He was so, sooooo not up for a fight or anything. Especially not with Fiona's brother.

He wasn't looking to fight. It was just a bit of a twitch. He closed his hand and put it back in his lap; more a little boy clutching at his teddy bear than a warrior clutching for a weapon.

"Sorry. We had a little trouble with the military. It's not a big thing. Bad memories."

"Hey, it's alright," Zack decided, offering Eliot another small smile. "I'm off-duty here, anyhow. Right now, I'm more waiter than soldier."

A nearby napkin was quick to add that he was more lump than he was waiter right now, too.

Mean.

"Is there anything I can do," he asked, concerned about the other boy.

"Remind me to never get kidnapped by squirrels again?"

It was about the best that Zack could come up with, really.

"And maybe find the light switch on that sun up there. It's too bright, today."

He was joking, mostly.

"...I think the people around here would probably notice," he had to admit mildly.

"Otherwise, I'd try."

"I appreciate that," Zack decided. Hey, if that was his reason for not turning off the sun, then he could totally live with it.

The sun was important for things like... being... sunny. And shining and stuff.

Look, he was hungover. He didn't need to have functional thought processes all of the time, right?

"Um, so, what're you taking? Here. Fiona said the classes are kind of different."

...Eliot was kind of made of awkward.

Edited 2009-06-23 02:49 (UTC)

"Oh, you know. Keeping the advantage on different types of terrain, a course on TV, arts and crafts..."

He wasn't going to mention sexual anthropology. Not because he had anything against sexual anthropology. More because he wasn't certain that he could handle that much blushing right now.

"Oh. That sounds... on TV?"

He blinked.

"Yep!" Zack would have been more chipper about that fact if he was able. "Mostly, we just sit around eating chips-that-the-teacher-calls-crisps, and we watch TV shows. It's all... summer workshoppy."

He shrugged, and then kind of oozed forward to rest his head on the table. Mmmm, table.

"A lot of the workshops this term sounded pretty neat. I wanted to take the class on Rangering, too. Oooh, or the one about slacking! That would have been easy."

But he would have fidgeted through the entire thing, looking for stuff to do, and then he would have failed it on principle.

Cafe Fina, Sunday

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