In the Garden of Culinary Delights (Open)

Aug 26th, 2014 11:46 PM

Antonio Escobar had many desires. Chief among them were for good wine, good company, and when he hungered, for good food. Thiswas one of those times, and he had followed the signs to come here. Would this place be what he hoped it was? A place to find others like him?

Hell, it didn't matter. He was mucha hambre, and while Antonio knew how to cook a mean meal himself, there was something enjoyable about being served.

The handsome Incubus was dressed casually that night, his powerful Mantle spreading a delightful, alluring scent around him. His skin was tinged a crimson red.

Antonio walked quietly into the joint. His head panned about in that relaxed fashion of someone who was comfortable with his surroundings, and he smiled as he waited to be seated.

Aug 27th, 2014 12:36 PM

In the fall of Aaren's hair are Oleander and Datura blossoms, a glimpsed and marked difference from the array of roses that wilt and reach longingly towards the restaurant goers, the Incubus included. She's already there, having said her hellos to Mrs. Rosemary with a glass of red in her hand. In the Gandharva's hand the wine becomes a fashionable accessory, rather than simply a glass of red-wine.

Poured into slim tooth-pick jeans and an off the shoulder sweater, the Gilded Lady of Spring moves with practiced ease towards the central tree dining space of the Rose Garden. Her silver heels glimmer against the Garden's low ambient lighting as she moves up the tree and she doesn't note the Incubus waiting patiently to be seated. Not yet. A young woman with a Rose ID Tag approaches him with a bright, professional smile.

She's wholly and irrepressibly banal. Her name is Janice.

The disappearing form of Aaren Eloi, does however express one thing: there are others like him here.

Aug 27th, 2014 01:06 PM

The Incubus may have gone entirely unseen, but the sophisticated Gandharva certainly did not. A Mantle, a wash of healthy green smell clashing with his own as she went by, a wine-glass held just so... classy. She was noticed, and then she was gone. A half-smile crossed Antonio's face. California.

He rose as the waitress came by, fixing her with all of his attention for a moment. Smoky eyes and a deadly smile skewered her. "For one, please. Somewhere quiet would be lovely," he said, his soft accent lilting his speech. It didn't hurt to be pleasant. Janice nodded, as banal as ever, and led him into the restaurant. He placed his hands in his pockets as he followed dutifully into the central space. There were patrons, but the waitress did her best. Antonio found himself in a booth vaguely away from the other diners.

A water and a glass of Sauv Blanc were requested, and a menu was placed before him.

His cell phone came out once Janice was gone, and Antonio Escobar checked his messages, shooting a couple back. Work. It never stopped.

Aug 27th, 2014 02:37 PM

House calls, how he loathed house calls. Odds are that the patient is either lazy, dying, surrounded by fellow members of what he liked to call the 'Gun and Knife Club' who would be very cross if he couldn't help their friend. His last one was all three, and it had been nothing short of a miracle that he walked out the door at the end of it.

As it was, he now had cash to burn and an urgent desire to treat himself a little before the next horror-show, and so he ended up walking into the Rose Garden. He knew from the look, and the faint glances of a mantle or two amongst the clientel that this was probably a Spring hotspot. He also new that the reviews of this place were stellar, and that if anyone knew how to enjoy themselves, it would be Spring.

His dress, brown v-neck jumper over grey shirt with cream slacks might remind someone of a retired geography teacher, but his faint smile compensated, by reminding those with a clearer insight into things of a bear-trap. He enters the restaurant, almost unconsciously positioning himself in the best vantage point of the door while remaining unseen, before he seems to shake himself a little, and grateful that his diminutive presence hopefully meant that nobody saw his little slip, waits to be seated.

Aug 27th, 2014 03:35 PM

With softly clicking steps, Aubrey strolled quickly down the street, following the signs left for people like her to find. A hand slowly, carefully reached up to adjust her necklace as she walked. It is always best to look presentable when meeting new people, her mother always said. As she turned a corner, the Rose Garden was suddenly before her, glorious and resplendent. She gasped, hand hovering over her mouth a moment before she giggled gleefully and skittered forward. She quickly remembered to hold herself with poise and etiquette however, and began to click along the sidewalk with well placed steps once more. What a lovely, fancy little place!

Upon entering the atrium, the poor Woodwalker comes face-to-back with Jeffrey Stueck and stands frozen for a moment, briefly in shock from just the sight of the back of his scarred head. With a steadying breath she softly and politely clears her throat to announce her presence, clasping both hands in front of her, holding her clutch purse. "A pleasant evening to you, sir, if you don't mind my saying so." she nearly whispers, turning herself to face him enough so as not to look at him from the corner of her eye. She smiles timidly.

Aug 27th, 2014 03:55 PM

A sudden, lethal tension rose in Jeffrey for a second, he froze for a second, and his right hand twitched towards his hidden switchblade before he could still it. After a second, the tension retreated beneath his skin, he having decided that any credible threat would have stuck him and be out the door by now, or at least tried to.

He turned around quickly with a soft click of his shoes, and though he had no eyes, Aubrey could tell he was examining her closely. He smiled gently, though the comfort value might have been lost from the gleam of steel from between his lips. He knew he was no oil painting, and so tried to minimise the shock to the poor girl by keeping his hands behind his back. "Yes, it is rather nice isn't it. You are..."

**Jag** · Aug 27th, 2014 03:59 PM

Having seated Antonio and providing him with a menu, Janice returns to the entrance of the establishment. She now finds a pair standing out there, apparently waiting to be seated. With all the professionalism in the world, the young woman smiles at them. "Welcome to the Rose Garden," she says to the pair of Changelings. "Table for two?"

Aug 27th, 2014 04:18 PM

For the briefest moment Aubrey stands stock still, like a deer in deeply unsettling, lightless headlights, as Stueck appears to be readying to cause her bodily harm. After a moment passed and she was not gored on the very expensive floor, she peeks her eyes open, wincing at him fearfully. That choice was repaid with even more chest-clenching fear. The young woman stifled a whimper just before it escaped, taking another steadying breath and grasping her dress to curtsy with the utmost politeness. "Wh-why... I'm Aubrey. Aubrey Dodgson, sir. I'm quite pleased to meet you, sir. Who might you be, if you don't mind my asking?" Her voice seemed to barely be coping with the nearly primal instinct to flee from him in fear.

She actually jumped a little when Janice's voice came from behind them, and all the color seemed to fade from her face. "Wh-wha- She covered her mouth, feigning a cough to hide her unbecoming lapse in self control, but then simply stood, staring at Stueck in shock and indecision.

Aug 28th, 2014 11:59 AM

Jeffrey's smile became a little pained as she paled, no matter how often it happens, reactions like this were still a kick in the nuts. There was a word for things that made people react like that, a word that he tried very hard not to give any purchase in himself. He knew where that road ended. He'd got quite enough blood and screaming on the job, he didn't want to make a hobby out of it as well.

"Been a long time since anyone called me Sir, Aubrey. Call me Jeffrey, and consider this an apology. Lunch on me." He turned to the cardboard cutout masquerading as a waitress. "Yes, that would be nice." Step one for socialising when you look like you should be stabbing horny teens in a direct-to-video horror film, give them a reason to stick around. Step two, be pleasant and polite enough that they don't cower in fear every time you pass the salt. At least Aubrey seems to have gone Arcadian school of ettiquete, where politeness to things like him were par for the course. It helped that rudeness usually guaranteed some horrible end. As he could atest, those habits stuck around.

Aug 28th, 2014 02:56 PM

Perhaps it is the wash of green, wet foliage that falls on Antonio that asks for his attention. Or, perhaps, it is the small clink of the wine-glass that settles on the table near to his menu that requests it. Gleaming fingers of gold settle by the wine-glass as Aaren's gilded gaze settles on the unfamiliar Spring Courtier in her midst. Briefly, as quickly as the wind brushes the back of a neck, her visage is shrewd and calculating.

Then, a smile breaks into her sophisticated visage, “Even deep in Summer, flowers still bloom.” Aaren's head tilts slightly to the side, regarding the Brooding Incubus curiously. It's Aaren's voice, a heady sound that plays at ears like the smoke from an opium pipe, that is the jewel of Aaren Eloi. “Welcome, may I?” Aaren asks but she doesn't wait for an answer, daintily slipping into the chair across from Antonio and crossing one leg over the other.

In the Garden of Culinary Delights (Open)

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