Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-13593058-20150109051835/@comment-13593058-20150114040631

Rayne, with an unchanging face, flipped the cue card she was holding over to read what had been written. She then unemotionally closed her eyes, bowed towards the two gentlemen to aknowledge that she has gotten their orders and proceeded towards the table she previously sat at.

Along the way, she passed by Asher, who was still taking his time chuckling out loud.

"Hold on! Ahahaha," Asher continued, "I'll stop, I'll sto-!"

Without a word, Rayne had picked up her right foot and elegantly spun herself around gradually increasing her force in a controlled manner until suddenly.

She had accurately assualted his face with a powerful roundhouse kick and knocking him and his chair falling flawlessly backwards.

The only one left standing, of course, was Rayne, still in the kicking position she was in when her foot made contact. A constant stream of what appears to be smoke trailed from Asher's visage.

Accurately, Rayne repositioned herself into a more normal stance before proceeding to stand over Asher and bending herself over until their faces were only a couple of centimetres apart.

Asher finally recovered from her attack, was confronted by her character, "All right! All right!! Please don't hurt me more than you need to!" he begged while preparing for his execution.

Only to feel a slight kiss on his forehead.

Rayne, finally feeling satisfied, shot a look towards the two, this time, more sternly as if to convey a territorial message before finally making her way towards the counter to before the customer's orders.

The first, Black Tea. Simple, but strong. It has good endurance as a tea compared to its white and green competitors but loses in the physical appearance. This tea lacks does not stand out, but is soothing, intelligent and effective.

Simple, silent, but strong and durable.

She poured the leaves into a clear glass teapot adding in preboiled hotwater as well, brought the pot over towards the table and placed it onto a custom pedestal with a lit candle underneath to keep the contents of the pot warm. Accompanyed by the teapot, a similarly designed glass cup, which was made by blowing a glass bubble and concaving one face of the sphere leaving some space between the two faces of glass. This allowed the cup to be grabbed despite the hot contents of the cup.

Returning to the second order, a black forest cake. A cake originally compased of multiple types of chocolate layed with whipped cream, distinct black cherries and a cherry based liquor. This version, dubbed "The Rockbell" containes no liquor, nor whipped cream, but instead substitutes hazelnut spread (It's Nutella, like, come on.), dark baker's chocolate sculpted into the linkness of a black rose and a single black cherry.

She cut a neat slice off of one of the whole cakes and deliverd it to the rightful owner.

$7.50.

That was the price.

By that time, Asher had picked himself up from the floor and placed the chair that had fallen with him back up.

"Asher, would you like an ice-pack?" a motherly voiced woman asked, "I have plenty of ice at the back, I could get you some."

"Ah, no, thank you," he replied massaging his nose gently, "I have enough ice at home. Thank you though, Ms. Rockbell."

Maroon Rockbell.

"Ah I see, of course you wouldn't need it,"

Owner of  The Heart à Mode Café. A former student even.

"Asher's the type of person not to rack up debts or ask for help, is he?" she chuckled.

This woman, a clear woman this time, a clealy well developed body and visage. A kitten like appearance but can also look motherly at the same time. She is not exceptionally tall, but not cripplingly short either. She still wore her baking apron covered in flour and her kept yet unkept cardinal hair sat themselves on her shoulder.

And then.

The atmosphere broke.

Seven men and women, all dressed in a familiar white coat entered  the c afé with an innocent ring of the bells.

Seven men and women, all dressed in a familliar white coat, armed to the teeth with edged weapons and firearms,  entered  the c afé with an innocent ring of the bells.

A moment of silence passes by as both bystanders and newcomers studied each other.

"Welcome to The Heart à Mode Café, what can I get for you today?" Maroon casually greeted them.

"Your Dust," one of the men in the group stepped forward, "all of it, if you please."

"I'm sorry, this is a  café sir ," she replied calmly, "however, I could direct you to a local shop who does sell Dust and I'm sure you can hackle a good price out of them if you buy in bulk. In the mean time, how about a cake?

The man only looked straight at Maroon, then turned back to his company.

Only to swiftly knock Maroon out in one fell swoop to her temple.

"We would, if you hadn't already bought all of it from that shop. Ms. Rockbell."