Endellion Connelly
She/Her/Hers
Phoenix
Single
Unknown/explored
Kenny
31 posts
Believe in everything.
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Post by Endellion Connelly on Oct 20, 2014 18:34:24 GMT -6
It wasn’t by any means Endellion’s first trip to Paris but it wasn’t any less exciting than if it was. It having been at least half a century since she’d last visited, a lot of things had changed though she was relieved to find that perhaps just as many had remained the same. Unlike most of her adventures, this one wasn’t focussed around a particular book, or any book at all: this trip was about experiencing the city she remembered dearly.
Though that wasn’t to say she wouldn’t look around a bit while she was there.
She spent her first few days there acting the tourist. She visited beautiful shops and bakeries, climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and even stopped to watch a mime perform despite her general unease with the art form. But by the end of the third morning she was itching for the familiarity and joy of a book hunt, and so she set about looking for the sorts of places that might be hiding a gem to add to her hoard. Collection. All in all, it was rather tiresome. Paris was busier than she’d ever expected and half of the bookstores – though generally quite lovely – were more mainstream in the way of wares.
It was nearing evening by the time she decided to end the day’s search, and when she happened to stumble across a café she was more than delighted to step inside. The atmosphere was warm (or was that the building itself?) and while she reveled in it she was also grateful she’d opted out of wearing a sweater for she surely would have begun to feel the effects of overheating.
When it came her turn to order, she smiled at the young man behind the counter and shifted her bag to rest more comfortably at her side. “A medium mint tea, s’il vous plait,” she said, speaking both languages without any sense of irony. It didn’t occur to her that it perhaps made her seem like more of a tourist trying to fit in, despite her impeccable accent (which in itself should’ve been surprising in comparison to her Scottish one). “With ice, if that’s at all possible.” |
MADE BY VEL OF GS
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Julien Giroux
He/Him/His
Barista
Single
Pansexual
Alana
4 posts
Taste, Hearing, Sight, Smell, Touch, Desire
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Post by Julien Giroux on Oct 21, 2014 10:35:06 GMT -6
Paris was beautiful in the fall.
Despite living in the city his whole life, Julien never tired of seeing the warm glow of summer slowly fade from Paris’ streets, as the cool rush of winter just started creeping over with frosty fingers. With the tide of tourists ebbing, it was quieter, too - just a little, enough that breathing seemed easier, less crushing despite the sheer size of the city. Leaves delicately yellowing and turning red, and brown, and orange, until each tree was a rush of warm, cozy colours that simply begged to be climbed or slept under.
No matter how much he wished he could skip work sometimes and meander in the forests away from Paris, resting on beds of fallen leaves and admiring the French countryside, there was a job to do. It was equally as pleasant as Paris in autumn, though in a different, but still seasonal way - customers loved the spicy, hot drinks that they couldn’t order in the warmer months, and Julien could pull thick knitted sweaters on and enjoy the coziness.
And maybe the scent of cinnamon and apple in the drinks and desserts meant he always had a little more coffee than normal. It was his job, after all, he had to make sure the product was good.
Working the counter was always easier with two people, but since Marcel had to call out sick Julien was on his own. It hadn’t been too bad, so far, and he had been working as a barista long enough that even the rush, while tricky, wasn’t as hard as it could be. Certainly a nuisance, to get people out quickly, but not hard.
The shop was fairly empty when the bell over the door tinkled, and he looked up from where he was wiping down the counter to offer a smile at the woman standing there. “Welcome,” he said, tapping a few keys on the register to take her order. “Bien sur. Ice is no trouble, I’ll have that for you now in a moment. Is that for here or to go?”
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Endellion Connelly
She/Her/Hers
Phoenix
Single
Unknown/explored
Kenny
31 posts
Believe in everything.
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Post by Endellion Connelly on Oct 21, 2014 17:50:56 GMT -6
While the barista put her order in – though it wasn’t a very long time, she noted – Endellion looked around the place. It was quite nice, looking as cozy and warm as it felt. And to top it all off it was hardly busy at all. In fact, it was closer to being empty than anywhere else she had been so far in Paris. That alone made it a candidate for where she would choose to spend the next hour or so. Putting all of its positive qualities together (warm atmosphere, lack of crowdedness, delicious scents, and an attentive, seemingly kind barista) gave it an overwhelming lead over the other places she had considered. Mind decided, she returned her attention to the man behind the counter and smiled. “For here, merci. Combien cela va-t-il coûter?”
Now, with her attention on the barista rather than the café’s interior, Dell noticed that the man standing across from her was startlingly lovely. Without any exaggeration he was almost ethereal and yet somehow he seemed to fit so perfectly well exactly where he was standing. She wondered if perhaps it was the romantic notions of Paris setting her mind to these uncertain ideas rather than any actual visual evidence on her part. After all, the city itself was full to the brim with magical things of both the ordinary and extraordinary kinds.
She decided she could ponder on that when she was sitting down with her tea but that it was likely rather rude the way she was staring at him. Hopefully it hadn’t been as long as she imagined it had. “Je suis desole, I zoned out for a moment. Did you say something?” |
MADE BY VEL OF GS
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