fandomtownies | Luke's, Wednesday (Daylight)

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Luke's, Wednesday (Daylight)

Right. So. Apparently Regina wasn't going to clear up this curse at all quickly (she was good, but even she couldn't untangle where her curse was or was not intersecting with whatever was going on with this godforsaken island). Which meant that she really was the owner of a diner, so she really did have to be at least a little bit responsible for how it was running.

She'd run a bar, a town, and even an entire kingdom. At least one of those things she'd even done well, without resorting to dark magic. How hard could a diner be?

"I don't care which one of you started what," she told the kitchen staff. Which had apparently been previously run either like a day care or a three-ring circus. "You should not be trying to fence with the sharpening steels. For heaven's sake, you're not even doing it well!" She snatched the steel from the man in the apron and pointed him at the stove. "Now get back to work before I decide to fire you all and turn this place into an automat!"

The man in the apron exchanged looks with the one in the rubber gloves. "We don't have our specials yet."

"Oh for --" Regina stalked over to the specials board.

Today's specials
Corned beef on rye
Apple pie

"Those aren't very special," the young man holding the mop said. And then turned and ran before Regina could turn around and level her glare on him.

Luke's was open.

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Miguel stuck his head in like he had ~~handwavily~~ done each day since he'd heard Eliot left, then noticed the new person and stepped in all the way. "Hey there - you the new owner?"

Regina looked up with a sigh. "Apparently. And you are?"

"Miguel O'Hara. I work here on Saturdays. I'd been wondering who the new boss was. Sorry you had to show up on...well, most of the weeks lately have been bad, but anyway." He shrugged.

"So I've heard," Regina said. "Honestly, it almost reminds me of home." Home tended to be less . . . bloody, but still. "So. Miguel on Saturdays. You a good employee?"

"Sorry about your home," Miguel quipped. He shrugged. "I show up even when things suck, I can cook, I've never pissed anyone off yet, and I keep them," he gestured at the staff, "in line. Mostly."

Regina eyes the kitchen staff. “Well. It’s nice to know I’ll have one day off on that front, at least.” She looked back at Miguel measuringly. “What do you do with the rest of your time when you’re not moonlighting here?”

Who the hell only worked one day a week?

Everyone on Fandom, basically.

"I teach at the school sometimes," he said. "Science, mostly. And I head off to save other worlds. This is my vacation. What about you - what are you up to when you're not owning diners?"

She didn't exactly seem like the type to do nothing but that.

Regina shrugged. "I ran a bar for a while. Before that, I was a mayor." She looked around, wrinkling her nose. "It's a bit of a step down."

"Not in this voluntarily, then?" Miguel asked.

“There was a curse,” Regina said. “It’s a long story.”

"Join the club. Luckily this place isn't usually so bad. This summer's been a little special, though. A different world every week, most of them nasty."

“So I’ve heard. I suppose wondering which story realm the island will visit next will at least give me something to do other than incinerate mutant dogs. Or drink.”

"Drinking is always a valid choice," Miguel noted. "Especially since the bar here - Caritas, not the other one - has some sort of spell on it so it's safe."

"I've heard. It throws you into a pond?"

"Yeah, so I've heard. No violence inside. I guess it cuts down on barfights as well as murders."

"It's useful, definitely, and sounds fairly simple. Can't help but wonder what powers it, though."

Miguel shrugged. "Don't look at me. I'm a scientist, not a magician. Kitty might know. I just wonder why more places around here don't have it."

“Magic always comes with a price,” Regina said, almost by rote. “I’d guess this one must be a bit steep for most people.”

"I'll take your word for it," Miguel said. "Anyway, if anything ever comes at us in here, we can all hide in the freezer or something. You been in there yet?"

“Into the freezer.” Regina folded her arms over her chest, frowning. “No. I can’t say that I have. It being a freezer.”

"There're coats at the entrance," Miguel said. "A system of carts. Polar bears and mynocks. Nobody knows how big it is."

Regina narrowed her eyes at him, trying to see if this was some ‘haze the new boss’ thing. After a few moments she let out an angry breath and turned sharply on one heel to stalk over to the freezer door.

A few minutes after that she stalked back out again, brushing snow from her jacket.

“Right,” she said. “Good to know.”

If she were still evil that would definitely be where she kept her magical vault.

Miguel just shrugged. He had told her. Not that he blamed her for needing to check, either.

"I'm not even sure if we order things to stock it or they just show up," he confessed. "The fridge unit and pantry are normal."

Well. Normal for Fandom.

“That explains the lack of paperwork,” Regina said. “I just figured a drawer of supplier invoices had gone missing.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And just what the hell is a ‘mynock’?”

"Winged thing - like a bat, not a bird, about this big." Miguel held up his hands a few feet apart. "Some sort of parasite from another galaxy or something. They mostly leave us alone, but sometimes one gets out and we have to shove it back in there."

“So now there’s a sci-fi story too. Great.” She looked back at the freezer again, expression going soft. “Henry would be loving this.” She tilted her head. “Well. Not the skinless dogs.”

"Story?" Miguel asked. "And hey, to be fair, I don't think anybody likes the skinless dogs."

“Oh, I suspect someone must,” Regina said. “There’s no accounting for taste, after all. And yes, story. From what I hear you all have moved through several so far this summer.”

Miguel thought about that. "Ah. I call them dimensions. Whatever, though, yeah - it's been a different one every week for a while now. I'm hoping it settles down soon, preferably somewhere that isn't a nightmare."

“Dimensions, Realms of Story.” Regina shrugged. “However you want to make sense of things. What surprises me is that none of you seem to know why your town’s traveling.”

Miguel snorted. "This island pretty much does whatever it wants whenever it wants. Asking why is pointless. Pudding rain? Attacking snowmen? A different world every week? Must be Fandom."

Regina raised an eyebrow at that, unimpressed. “I helped raise an Author, young man. I assure you, there is always an intent.”

"Not sure what that means, but just because the island may know why it's doing this, doesn't mean anyone else does," Miguel pointed out. "Having a reason's different from letting anyone know it."

“And that’s the second time in a matter of days someone’s referred to the island as though it was sentient,” Regina observed. “What, is it an ancient slumbering god or something?”

"No idea," Miguel confessed. "I've been told it's semi-sentient, though."

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Luke's, Wednesday (Daylight)

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