text, un: BellaBelle

[doreimi]

Hey, everybody! Wow, this forum thing is really neat. I wish we'd had something like this back home, it would've made keeping in touch with people a lot easier. It's pretty fun to look through and see all the questions people are asking, and read what everyone has to say! It seems like that's what this is for, right? Asking questions?

Actually, I was hoping I could ask a couple, too. One of them is, for people who have jobs, are your jobs enough to keep you sustained just from the Demichroma you earn, or do you have to accumulate Chroma yourself on the side, too? I don't just mean for splurging at the mall or something — I mean more of, with the moon cycles and all. It feels pretty weird to have to just ask people outright if they'll hold your hand to get some extra Chroma, but I guess around here people don't think that's as bold a thing to do as they would back home.

Anyway, I was a little worried about it, so I thought getting a job would be a good thing to do, but boy! The customers sure are something when there's a moon in the sky!

The other question I had was, I sort of want to go back to school, so I've been thinking of enrolling at the Academy. I'm just wondering if it's hard to balance classes and a job? It's sort of strange to get used to having to sleep again! But I really want to see if there are some opportunities to play music, or maybe do some acting, or dance. I used to know some girls who did ballet and I was always really jealous of how easy they made it look! I wonder if it's too late to learn...

Well, anyway! Those are my questions, and I won't be on break for much longer, so I'll check back when I have the chance. Thanks, everybody!

Comments

[doreimi]

How did you even end up here? I thought you were, you know.

[Wait for it.]

...Italian.

[MEANING: SOMEONE POSSESSING OF STANDARDS.]

[teaserving]

[Abbacchio figures he probably shouldn't answer with because I hate myself so he goes with:] It was the easiest job to get without any real experience.

Trust me, my soul perishes every time I put ketchup and cheddar cheese on spaghetti that's been boiling all day.

[doreimi]

How do you think I feel, having to serve it? Sorry about saying you were being really slow tonight, by the way.

[...]

Though you are kind of being really slow.

[teaserving]

In my defense, I was also texting you half the time.

[that isn't any defense??]

Anyway, no offense taken.

[doreimi]

[Look at all the work ethic up in this kitchen.]

Anyway, yeah, Table Eight is being kind of obnoxious, but once they're gone it shouldn't be much of a problem. Probably no one's going to come in this late, anyway. Who gets a craving for spaghetti in the middle of the night?

[teaserving]

Stoners.

[It's answered without any humor.]

Anyway. If they give you more shit, let me know. All right?

[doreimi]

[The deadest stare. Which is funny, considering the fact that they're both very familiar with the concept of being dead.]

Are you gonna punch them?

[teaserving]

That depends on how shitty they're being.

[doreimi]

All right, well. I have to go refill water glasses and check on them in another few minutes, so I'll report back if they're still being creepy.

[She shrugs.]

But now I can hide out back here, at least, and one of my friends said he'd come pick me up after work, so I'll be okay.

[teaserving]

All right. And if you don't tell me, I'm gonna know, all right?

[But he does smile a little.]

Good. And... yeah. You do. You can come back here. Don't worry about it.

[doreimi]

Why would I hide something like that? I just don't want to get fired, or to have you get fired because of me. Then who would I talk to while I'm at work?

[teaserving]

They're not gonna fire me. Who the fuck else would work here?

Anyway. It's fine, I just-- you know. You shouldn't be treated like you're some kinda piece of meat.

[doreimi]

Well, at least one other person would, apparently.

[She says, as she raises her hand in a parody of herself.]

Yeah. I guess I just wasn't sure if I was being too sensitive about it or not.

[teaserving]

If a guy is leaning over to smell you, that's creepy no matter what culture you're in.

You're not too sensitive.

[doreimi]

I guess I could always spill ice water on him by mistake. I bet Chef Tony wouldn't like that very much, though.

[Said in that tone of voice that suggests: fuck Chef Tony.]

[teaserving]

[hell yeah fuck chef tony]

Make it cranberry juice so it stains.

[doreimi]

Do we even have any cranberry juice?

[Admittedly this is the kind of establishment that would carry cranberry juice and nothing else.]

[teaserving]

Absolutely there is. Just jugs of it.

[It's true though. There's cranberry juice and like two sodas.]

[doreimi]

[THIS PLACE IS AN ABOMINATION]

You really are a bad influence, A~bba~chi~o~

[But she grins a little before checking the time, and then wrinkles her nose.]

Okay, I'll be right back. Wish me luck!

[Out she goes, pitcher of ice water in hand, and after a minute or two of absence, she returns wearing the world's most dead-eyed expression.]

Two glasses of cranberry juice, please. Order up.

[teaserving]

[There's a scowl on Abbacchio's face. Like, he's definitely filling up two glasses for her, but he's glaring over her shoulder.]

The fuck did they do now?

[doreimi]

Don't break any bones.

[She wrinkles her nose.]

The guy in the chair by the window said I could go home with him if I wanted a tip.

[teaserving]

[The glass in his hand cracks. He kind of just expected that maybe they were being weird and sniffing her again, which-- okay, he's not happy about that, but he was willing to let her deal with it.

But he really hates anyone being treated the way she is. It boils his blood more that it's her, because Reimi is good and doesn't deserve that shit.]

Oh, I don't have to break his fucking bones.

[Cup is set down and he marches out of the kitchen, moving past Reimi. His Stand's the weakest in the gang, but he doesn't need one for this bullshit. Besides, he's physically the strongest; his drinking problem aside, he keeps himself fit, never really having stopped even after he was kicked out of the force.]

Hey dipshit!

[Abbacchio doesn't even wait for the guy to react before he's using one foot to shove his chair back hard enough to cause the customer's head to smack against the wall. He plants his foot against the guy's throat, pinning him to the wall, giving him just enough to let him breathe.]

Maybe you wanna tip your waitress right now and fucking leave.

[Turning his head, he barks at the few other patrons that are, for some reason, dining at this hellhole and currently staring:] Mind your fucking business, assholes!

[doreimi]

[She's not expecting the way the glass fractures in Abbacchio's hand. She's definitely not expecting the way he ignores the previous notion of dumping cranberry juice onto the guys to cool them off. And she's really not expecting the flash of aggression that has him storming the dining area of the restaurant to go kick around the patrons, scumbags though they might be.

She's prudent enough to figure out that this is not an altercation she wants to walk into, however, and so she stays largely out of sight, only peeking around the door to see what Abbacchio will do — and her eyes widening when she ultimately watches it unfold.

The guy who gets pinned to the wall winds up stunned from the knock to the head; the guy he's with is on his feet in an instant, and it's hard to tell whether he's astonished or angry or both. Regardless, his body language suggests he's definitely in fight or flight mode, though which direction he'll go is anybody's guess.

Fuck do you think you are, starting shit like this?! the guy snaps, tensed up like he's getting ready to try to tackle Abba off of holding his friend to the wall. You one of those Sanguis bastards? You all blessed out, asshole?]

[teaserving]

I think inviting a girl just trying to do her job for extra cash is tasteless as fuck is all.

[There's a serious debate in pressing down harder to squeeze air out from this asshole. Instead, he just kicks him down to the floor before going to loom over the guy coming to his friend's defense.]

But go on. Show me what you can do, prick.

[And he picks up a butter knife.

That's-- that's not even sharp-- the guy says.]

It's duller, it'll fucking hurt more!

[doreimi]

[There are literal people watching this, this is a scene rapidly becoming a spectacle, but to most of the onlookers' credit, they seem appropriately taken aback when the justification behind Abbacchio's outburst is brought to light.

(What kind of person acts that way towards a waitress, one murmurs to another, who shakes their head in commiseration. Disgraceful, says another, who spots Reimi peeking around the door and offers her a sympathetic look.)

Of course, then the crazy fry guy picks up a butter knife and starts brandishing it, and all bets are off.

Hey! Hey, buddy, calm down! says one of the other patrons, getting up from his booth. Why don't you guys just pay and leave and we can all go home, huh?]