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fandomtownies2012-09-04 02:50 pm
lovemykilt) wrote in fandomtownies2012-09-04 02:50 pm
Cafe Luke's, Tuesday afternoon
"Huh."
Priestly stood outside of Luke's -- CAFE Luke's, and he might've noticed that change the last time he was here if he hadn't been too busy freaking the fuck out -- his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He hadn't even found a place to stay yet; he'd simply made a beeline for the diner -- CAFE, apparently -- the minute he'd set foot on the island. It'd been his home-away-from-the-dorms on the island when he was in high school, and being harassed by zombie!Hurley aside, it didn't have any of the slightly terrifying associations some of the other spots on the island did. Besides, if he was actually going to stick around here and not run away again -- Alfred would have to let him into the Clocktower in New Gotham, Dinah would pout at him if he didn't -- then he was going to want to get himself a job.
It wasn't even so much the money. He just wanted something to distract himself from going on "dystopia!Priestly's greatest hits" tours.
"Right," he said. "Cafe Luke's. That just means it's, like, classy or something." He looked down at his dusty boots, his pretty-much-just-as-dusty ripped up cargo pants, and his green camo "Oh no! It's snowing!" t-shirt. "'Cause I totally ooze class."
Standing outside wasn't doing him any good. He took a breath, adjusted his duffel on his shoulder, and pushed open the door.
"Well hey there!" The guy behind the counter who was not Lacey and looked a little too old and comfortable in himself to be a student greeted. "Welcome to Luke's! What can I get you?"
Could this possibly be Luke? THE Luke?
. . . Nah.
"Hey." He slung his duffel onto one of the stools at the counter. "Is Lacey Burrows still around here, somewhere?"
"You mean the former manager?" The man shook his head. "Sorry hon, she headed out more than a year ago. Right after my cafe and her diner melded together in a quantum entanglement accident. I'm Vincent, by the way."
"Priestly. And I totally almost know what all of those words mean." he said. He shrugged sheepishly. "Well, uh, maybe you can help? I'm looking for a job."
Vincent gave him a considering once over. "Wait-staff or kitchen?"
"Can I do both?" Priestly flashed him a smile. "I used to work here in high school, I've got years of experience behind the grill of my friend's beach-side sandwich shop, and I'm a grade-A fancy culinary school drop-out."
"Why'd you drop out?"
"I wanted to tour the world and learn from the locals."
Vincent nodded slowly. "And did you?"
"Well, I got stuck in Hong Kong for a bit, but I could run a mean noodle cart."
Another nod. "I might just have a position for you. Tell you what, I'll show you around, and then you can take on the kitchen for the afternoon. Make me up something special."
Priestly grinned, his shoulders slumping a bit in relief. "Sounds good, man. Have at ye."
Vincent waved him around the counter, then lead the way to a large metal door next to the window into the kitchen. "This here is the freezer. There are coats hanging just inside the door, and a tram runs all the way to the back. I've posted a few maps around, so if you get lost, look for the green signs."
Priestly raised an eyebrow at him, pushing the door open. "Really? Maps of the -- SWEET MOTHER OF CRAP." He heard Vincent chuckle behind him, but couldn't tear his eyes from the freezer in front of him. It went on. And on. And on. "You've got yourself your own pocket universe back here!"
Vincent sighed. "I wish. Nope, just a very large freezer run by a fusion reactor. Don't touch that -- it pretty much just takes care of itself."
". . . Can I live here?"
Another chuckle, and Vincent clapped him gently on the shoulder. "Let's see how well you cook first, honey."
Priestly's look of shock transformed itself back into a grin and rubbed his hands together. "Yeah. Let's do that!"
Okay, this maybe wasn't a terrible idea, after all.
* * *
A few hours later, Priestly had his hands on the counter, leaning forward to watch intently as Vincent sampled the last of the mezze he'd prepared, a little parfait with angel food cake, fresh whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate mousse. Nothing super weird or out there -- he'd covered a couple of his more outlandish ideas earlier in the meal -- just a nice, simple, end of meal treat.
Vincent seemed to be enjoying it, at least?
At last, the other man let out a pleased sigh and slid the plate with the now empty glass away from him. "Well, now. That was lovely, thank you."
Priestly grinned. "So I get the job?"
Vincent tilted his head at him and then grinned. "You've got the job! Mind you, it wasn't perfect, and I could definitely spot some of the gaps in your education, but you've definitely got talent, and a very creative palette."
There was no wiping that grin off Priestly's face, no. "I've been told that."
"Really, all you need now is more experience and the free reigns to make your mistakes," Vincent said. "So congratulations, Priestly! It's all yours."
He tossed a set of keys at Priestly and pulled a suitcase from behind the counter.
Okay, maybe there was something that could wipe the grin of Priestly's face. ". . . wait, what?"
"I'm heading back to home to Eureka to rebuild Cafe Diem," Vincent explained. "Again. I'd been hoping this little island would send over someone to take over this place, and it looks to me like it's done just that. So have fun, try not to blow the place up too many times, and remember, if they stump you, the meal's free!"
"I -- but --"
"Don't get nervous on me now, Priestly, this is a great opportunity for you. Now, I have a portal to catch."
"But --"
"There's a loft upstairs if you want it, and all the paperwork, including the employee schedules, payroll, and the list of suppliers and their shipping dates are in the office. Good luck!" And Vincent was out the door, leaving Priestly standing dumbfounded behind the counter, apron still tied around his waist.
"But I don't know how to run a business!" Priestly finally managed.
"I have a bachelor's in restaurant management," the dishwasher offered. Priestly sighed.
"Yep," said the cook, Priestly's new sous chef, apparently. "This place is doomed."
[ooc: and Vincent is out, with Priestly in place as the new manager! Post is mostly establishy, but he hasn't exactly turned the closed sign, so should anyone want to wander in on Priestly's panic, feel free.]
Priestly stood outside of Luke's -- CAFE Luke's, and he might've noticed that change the last time he was here if he hadn't been too busy freaking the fuck out -- his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He hadn't even found a place to stay yet; he'd simply made a beeline for the diner -- CAFE, apparently -- the minute he'd set foot on the island. It'd been his home-away-from-the-dorms on the island when he was in high school, and being harassed by zombie!Hurley aside, it didn't have any of the slightly terrifying associations some of the other spots on the island did. Besides, if he was actually going to stick around here and not run away again -- Alfred would have to let him into the Clocktower in New Gotham, Dinah would pout at him if he didn't -- then he was going to want to get himself a job.
It wasn't even so much the money. He just wanted something to distract himself from going on "dystopia!Priestly's greatest hits" tours.
"Right," he said. "Cafe Luke's. That just means it's, like, classy or something." He looked down at his dusty boots, his pretty-much-just-as-dusty ripped up cargo pants, and his green camo "Oh no! It's snowing!" t-shirt. "'Cause I totally ooze class."
Standing outside wasn't doing him any good. He took a breath, adjusted his duffel on his shoulder, and pushed open the door.
"Well hey there!" The guy behind the counter who was not Lacey and looked a little too old and comfortable in himself to be a student greeted. "Welcome to Luke's! What can I get you?"
Could this possibly be Luke? THE Luke?
. . . Nah.
"Hey." He slung his duffel onto one of the stools at the counter. "Is Lacey Burrows still around here, somewhere?"
"You mean the former manager?" The man shook his head. "Sorry hon, she headed out more than a year ago. Right after my cafe and her diner melded together in a quantum entanglement accident. I'm Vincent, by the way."
"Priestly. And I totally almost know what all of those words mean." he said. He shrugged sheepishly. "Well, uh, maybe you can help? I'm looking for a job."
Vincent gave him a considering once over. "Wait-staff or kitchen?"
"Can I do both?" Priestly flashed him a smile. "I used to work here in high school, I've got years of experience behind the grill of my friend's beach-side sandwich shop, and I'm a grade-A fancy culinary school drop-out."
"Why'd you drop out?"
"I wanted to tour the world and learn from the locals."
Vincent nodded slowly. "And did you?"
"Well, I got stuck in Hong Kong for a bit, but I could run a mean noodle cart."
Another nod. "I might just have a position for you. Tell you what, I'll show you around, and then you can take on the kitchen for the afternoon. Make me up something special."
Priestly grinned, his shoulders slumping a bit in relief. "Sounds good, man. Have at ye."
Vincent waved him around the counter, then lead the way to a large metal door next to the window into the kitchen. "This here is the freezer. There are coats hanging just inside the door, and a tram runs all the way to the back. I've posted a few maps around, so if you get lost, look for the green signs."
Priestly raised an eyebrow at him, pushing the door open. "Really? Maps of the -- SWEET MOTHER OF CRAP." He heard Vincent chuckle behind him, but couldn't tear his eyes from the freezer in front of him. It went on. And on. And on. "You've got yourself your own pocket universe back here!"
Vincent sighed. "I wish. Nope, just a very large freezer run by a fusion reactor. Don't touch that -- it pretty much just takes care of itself."
". . . Can I live here?"
Another chuckle, and Vincent clapped him gently on the shoulder. "Let's see how well you cook first, honey."
Priestly's look of shock transformed itself back into a grin and rubbed his hands together. "Yeah. Let's do that!"
Okay, this maybe wasn't a terrible idea, after all.
A few hours later, Priestly had his hands on the counter, leaning forward to watch intently as Vincent sampled the last of the mezze he'd prepared, a little parfait with angel food cake, fresh whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate mousse. Nothing super weird or out there -- he'd covered a couple of his more outlandish ideas earlier in the meal -- just a nice, simple, end of meal treat.
Vincent seemed to be enjoying it, at least?
At last, the other man let out a pleased sigh and slid the plate with the now empty glass away from him. "Well, now. That was lovely, thank you."
Priestly grinned. "So I get the job?"
Vincent tilted his head at him and then grinned. "You've got the job! Mind you, it wasn't perfect, and I could definitely spot some of the gaps in your education, but you've definitely got talent, and a very creative palette."
There was no wiping that grin off Priestly's face, no. "I've been told that."
"Really, all you need now is more experience and the free reigns to make your mistakes," Vincent said. "So congratulations, Priestly! It's all yours."
He tossed a set of keys at Priestly and pulled a suitcase from behind the counter.
Okay, maybe there was something that could wipe the grin of Priestly's face. ". . . wait, what?"
"I'm heading back to home to Eureka to rebuild Cafe Diem," Vincent explained. "Again. I'd been hoping this little island would send over someone to take over this place, and it looks to me like it's done just that. So have fun, try not to blow the place up too many times, and remember, if they stump you, the meal's free!"
"I -- but --"
"Don't get nervous on me now, Priestly, this is a great opportunity for you. Now, I have a portal to catch."
"But --"
"There's a loft upstairs if you want it, and all the paperwork, including the employee schedules, payroll, and the list of suppliers and their shipping dates are in the office. Good luck!" And Vincent was out the door, leaving Priestly standing dumbfounded behind the counter, apron still tied around his waist.
"But I don't know how to run a business!" Priestly finally managed.
"I have a bachelor's in restaurant management," the dishwasher offered. Priestly sighed.
"Yep," said the cook, Priestly's new sous chef, apparently. "This place is doomed."
[ooc: and Vincent is out, with Priestly in place as the new manager! Post is mostly establishy, but he hasn't exactly turned the closed sign, so should anyone want to wander in on Priestly's panic, feel free.]