The Perk, Wednesday Afternoon

[pocketpretzels]

Watts really ought to invest in a coffee machine of his own. He knew this. It would certainly make things much simpler in the mornings.

Not that it was morning now. Nor was he drinking a regular cup of coffee. Would home coffee makers even be able to make the iced variety? He'd have to do some research. Still felt a little sheepish, too, that he'd held off on the iced coffee so long as he'd just assumed it was regular coffee, but cold.

Anyway. Not the point. The point was, here he was at the Perk, sitting with his chair turned around backwards, hunched over a table with a Korean language workbook spread open, dutifully and painstakingly copying the exercises down.

[ooc: omg open.]

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[begmetwice]

The afternoon found Irene taking a break and sticking a sign in the Dite's window indicating she'd be back in a few minutes before setting out for the fortification of caffeine.

And while she had every intention of just popping in and out again so she could get back to the shop -- well, you couldn't exactly expect her to not peer at what Watts was working with, could you?

It would be even more unreasonable to expect that she wouldn't then offer out a polite greeting in Korean. "Annyeong haseyo," she offered, lifting her own iced latte once she had it in hand and smiling at Watts.

[pocketpretzels]

It took Watts a second to realize someone was talking to him.

But once that realization hit, his head snapped up and he gave Irene a nod in greeting. “ Annyeong haseyo, Miss Adler,” he offered in return. “Would you care to sit?” he gestured at the empty chair at his table.

[begmetwice]

"You know, I think the shop can probably spare me a moment or two longer," Irene decided after a moment's consideration, smiling at him as she took the proffered seat. "Recreational knowledge, or are you planning a trip?" she asked, nodding to Watts' workbook.

[pocketpretzels]

“Recreational. Updating my knowledge, as it were. A trip’s- not out of the question, I suppose, but nothing in the works currently,” he explained.

Portugal was first on the list when it came to future international trips, after all.

[designateddadfriend]

Travis had a coffee machine at home. But that wasn't going to stop him from stopping in for fancy coffees on occasion.

"Ooo, you're learning Korean!"

Other people might say "hello" first, Trav.

[pocketpretzels]

“How to read it, at least,” Watts confirmed. His spoken Korean was at the moment limited to the very basic phrases.

[designateddadfriend]

That . . . actually already put him ahead of Travis, honestly.

"My mom's from Seoul," he said, undeterred. "If nothing else, you'll be all set for going out to restaurants."

[pocketpretzels]

Which was, admittedly, a rather large draw from Watts’s perspective.

“Do you speak Korean as well, then?” he asked, curious.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc had spent the morning dealing with various bullshit related to keeping things running back home. Now he needed coffee.

Well he'd prefer a drink but coffee was what was open now. So there he was, at the counter, ordering a regular coffee with actual milk, thank you.

[pocketpretzels]

And he just so happened to walk in at a point when Watts was looking up from his writing. “Mr. Spector,” he greeted, once Marc had secured his coffee.

[hasaknightjob]

"Watts," Marc replied. Which for him was downright effusive. He nodded in the direction of the books. "Another trip?"

He knew about Portugal already.

[pocketpretzels]

“You’re the second person to ask me that,” Watts said thoughtfully. “No plans as of yet. Or… contemplation of plans.” Since Portugal was still very much in the ‘Well, we’re going, but no idea when or for how long’ stage of things. “Just updating my knowledge. The writing system is new to me.”

[designateddadfriend]

"Hey Steven!" Travis greeted. He would be a bit surprised to find out he was greeting the wrong person, yes. "How's it going?"

[hasaknightjob]

Damn it. Marc would've been happy to fling Steven in there and not have to deal with it but he already had his coffee.

Okay, might as well rip the band aid off. "Marc, actually," he said, with a decidedly not British accent. "Travis, right?"

Would it be more subtle if he acted like he didn't know who Travis was since the two of them had never met? Probably. Oops.

[designateddadfriend]

Travis blinked. ". . . Yeah. Sorry. Marc." He nodded, confusion still very evident on his face. ". . . Twins separated at birth?"

Well. It could have happened. . . .

[deathsmajesty]

Mood, Marc. Eternal mood.

After being saved by Travis and his explanations of this 'paper' money (seemed unlikely to catch on, hmph), Liliana started to make her way out the door only to be stopped when she recognized a face. "Steven," she said, approaching him with a rustle of purple silks and a smile that had at least caucused with friendly once or twice. "Given any further thought to the pragmatism of murder, darling?"

Yes that was normal everyday conversation, what?

[hasaknightjob]

You know, when Steven told Marc he'd met someone who reminded him of Irene Marc should've fucking known the vibe was a lot more than "Posh but lovely." Marc would ask how on earth Steven had managed to survive this long without him except Marc of all people knew how uselessly rhetorical that question was.

At least they could head off some of the confusion about this at the pass.

"Marc," he said, with his much flatter American accent. "And if you think you can get Steven to change his mind on murder, good fucking luck."

Because he had tried and Steven was a stubborn asshole.

[deathsmajesty]

Liliana stopped. "Marc?" she questioned, like it was possible she'd misheard. "Steven's non-romantic partner in suits, Marc?"

She frowned at him, head tilted, violet eyes assessing. "Twin, doppelganger, shapeshifter, or more of your 'god's' fuckery?" she eventually asked.

[deathsmajesty]

Somewhere, Kathy perked up, excited.

"You asked if I wished to put my order upon credit," Liliana said, in tones of increasing frustration. "I said yes. So then why are you holding your hand out to me like a beggar on the street corner? Put it on credit under the name Liliana Vess, and I shall return to pay once I finish setting up my...shop." She still couldn't say that without a grimace. "Which I would be more in a position to do if you gave me my coffee."

Weren't cultural differences grand?

[designateddadfriend]

Was Travis going to end up having to go all first-responder over here?

"Uh. Around here they expect you to have a credit card," Travis offered. Digging into his wallet to pull out cash just in case.

[deathsmajesty]

Hey! Liliana probably wasn't going to murder a mere shophand over a lack of coffee.

Hmm. Wait. Coffee.

Liliana probably wasn't going to murder a mere shophand over a lack of coffee while there were witnesses.

Better.

"A credit card?" Liliana asked, wheeling around to look at the person who was explaining. "Some kind of...promissory note, then? An assurance I am a woman of means?"

[designateddadfriend]

"With a credit agency to back you up, yeah," Travis said. "You can probably get one at the bank in town. For now it might be better to use cash, if you have any?"

[pocketpretzels]

Well, Travis seemed to have the whole 'credit' explanation well in hand, so Watts was just going to offer the new face a nod. He'd dealt with a similar confusion upon arriving here after all. Relatable.

[deathsmajesty]

Right?!

Liliana clutched her coffee and nodded back, sharp red nails digging into the sides of the cup. Her body language suggested that if she were a cat, her tail would be lashing furiously even as she pretended towards a calm.

[pocketpretzels]

Of course, he'd had a slight advantage in that he was familiar with the currency. Though... a hundred-and-some-odd years of inflation had also been shocking.

"Everything sorted?" he asked, out of an attempt to- well. He'd just been discussing with Irene how he ought to meet more people. So, ugh. Small talk.