𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕘𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕕

[formidable]

OPEN POST It so happens that on a dark and stormy night in a city, (somewhere, anywhere really), someone may spot a beautiful gilded wooden door nearby wherever they are. Side of a building? In an alleyway? Near a dumpster?? Usually, it appears somewhere that's out of sight and out of mind, where the majority of people can't see it. The door looks warm and inviting and it's just a secret begging to be opened up so you can find what lies within... ❂❂❂ ... It's surprisingly normal inside; a surprisingly normal cafe actually. The interior is a warm mixture of red brick walls and sleek wooden floors and tables, along with comfortable looking sofa chairs and a large couch with a coffee table to accompany it. The ceiling is decorated with colorful hanging lanterns that cast interesting shadows on the walls and floors. A large black bookshelf sits next to the counter where there are various books and novels that have an age to them from past readers and customers. Behind the counter are the usual machines, bottles of syrups, jars of coffee beans, and tea blends in decorative jars. The black chalkboards aligned on the wall are strangely empty except for the special of that day and a lavishly illustrated logo which can only be the establishment's name. ❦ THE MIDNIGHT GRIND ❦ There's no other way to say it. This place is cozy. There is someone behind the counter, but depending on when you come in, it's going to be a different barista who will serve you. Or you can say hi to other customers and hang out with them! ❂❂❂ The Midnight Grind is a magical cafe with a door that appears in any location, across different universes and even time periods. It is a place to relax, eat, and drink, and collect yourself before heading back to whatever business you were in the middle of. It is run and owned by a witch named Iona J. Oakes, her golem companion Oren, and their main barista, Monts. Volunteers to help out with busy shifts are welcome and will be compensated appropriately. ➤ it's just a blur ➢ "Why'd I Wait?".

Comments

[nerine]

[You're probably not a Batman if your gaze doesn't affect someone, criminal or not.

For Marianna, there are people who look and others that really look. And that's when it starts to get uncomfortable because it means they've worked past a few layers (isn't that what she wants?) and are slowly inching closer to what's beneath.]

... I think I was. Scared, I mean.

[Snapped neck, eyes wide open, the smell, the stink, the moisture, the dryness, the dustiness, brain still functioning, alive, but not, why wouldn't it end...]

I can't speak for anyone else who has the legitimate condition, but... [Though no one has ordered it, she reaches for one of the jars of mixed berries and yuzu jam and opens it effortlessly to make another drink.

It's to keep her emotions steady, her thoughts clear, her hands busy.]

When you lack a physical sense of pain it's almost like an out-of-body experience. It's happening to someone, but not to you.

[She got away with a broken arm and the fortune that he was nearby. Had it gone worse... No, it wouldn't have. The 'ifs' are useless to linger on so she won't entertain them.

A long thin spoon clinks against the tall glass, filling it with the fruit jam before the bottle of ginger ale is poured on top. The carbonated fizz bubbles and crackles pleasantly between them.]

The best I can do is just to be careful and not injure myself by accident, though at some point it was more for other people's comfort than my own. After all, if it just fixes itself soon after, why should I care?

[She mixes her ginger ale and jam drink and frowns. The mixture looks muddy and unclean instead of aesthetically pleasing. Oh well.]

I'm trying to fix that mindset though. It only got me so far until I hit a wall.

[shoulders]

[ He finishes his coffee. The remnants of the orange peel pool at the bottom of the porcelain, inelegant. ]

You acknowledged them, at least.

[ After a few beats of silence, of watching her hands and her nervous energy. He never has too much to say; he doesn't know, himself, if it's a lack of empathy or if it's because he hasn't been socialized to know when to say something and where boundaries begin. He's made of them, himself: boundaries.

Another lingering second later, and the addendum. ] The walls.

[ That's a start. She acknowledged her discomfort with scraping herself thin, and is working to make herself more comfortable. That's.

Good. Progress. It makes something in Bruce ache. ]

[nerine]

[His words are... A comfort? Maybe? Monts, distracted from her messy-looking concoction looks at Batman with a brow raise.]

Yes. The walls.

[Sure, the sensation of pain is out, but her skills in picking up social cues have been honed as a result. He isn't being unkind or overtly congratulatory (imagine that), but it's a faintly positive acknowledgment. Arms crossed and head tilted at him, she can't help, but remark:]

For someone with a mean right hook and intimidation skills, you're... Oh, don't tell me. You're as awkward out of the mask as you are in it, aren't you?

[SHE SWINGS RUTHLESSLY (and playfully)]

[shoulders]

[ Listen, when you dress up as a big bat and say shit like "I am vengeance", you learn that people can and will roast you, mercilessly. He's the walking manifestation of the "can't roast me if I roast myself first" meme.

Which is to say: ]

You couldn't have expected someone well-adjusted to be wearing a mask.

[ Flatly, but with a slight edge of self-deprecating humor. Squint very hard for that one. He slides his empty cup to Monts, and shifts on his feet. ]

You're a good barista.

[ She's gotten him to talk this much, which is more than he ever has in, like, a literal age. ]

[nerine]

[She could have responded, quip for quip, but his genuine compliment catches her off guard, and her smile blooms into something different from what was used throughout their entire exchange.]

Well! Thanks, I got a lot to learn, but... Thanks!

[With a chuckle, she saves her own failed drink by bending down to scoop ice from the cooler embedded behind the counter. The added ice lightens up the color and in the light, the hues become more of a soft purple rather than bruised mash.

Somewhat high on praise, she can't help, but ramble.]

I know it's a stretch annnd you're probably the type of guy to leave someone high and dry — [wow, real classy months]

— But if you ever find the entrance again and you need a pick me up after skulking about in the streets... You know. I work late.

[Hiding her smile behind the rim of her glass, she takes a sip. It's sweet. Bright. Bubbly. Not pretty, but it hits all the right notes tastewise.]

I'll make you something else.

[shoulders]

[ She is 500% on the nose when it comes to Bruceー the Batー being a leaver more than a stayer, so no offense taken. More importantly, the way she smiles into her glass is more captivating than her indictments of him; the fact that he inspired her to look that way with a compliment is also humbling.

It seemed like such an obvious thing to say. He doesn't wonder if she doesn't hear these things often, because that's a rabbit hole, and he'll find himself thinking about these small details for far longer than is probably comfortable or necessary.

So: ] I'll keep it in mind.

[ He straightens up, and turns on his heels. ] I have a good memory.

[ Not a lie. He really does Remember Everything. ]