Afternoon Coffee [Open]

[megan]

Mae's cafe isn't very impressive from the outside, and is only marginally on from the inside, but none of Margaret's customers go there to be impressed. They go there because the coffee somehow manages to be good in spite of how cheap it is, which is a similar theme with anything ordered from the menu. Not that the place is a dump, but many parts of it seem as old and worn out as the owner.

This afternoon, like every afternoon, is being spent catching up on what she'd had to neglect during the lunch rush between attending to the needs of the smaller but more consistent trickle of customers that visit this time of day. It's a lot of work running the cafe by herself at her age, but she needs all the money she can keep to herself these days. Especially with the worrying signs on the horizon caused by the embargo on getting fresh supplies.

There's actually been a surge of activity and customers after the feds closed off the ways out of town - partly due to the increased activities of the mobs and the rogues as they adjust their practices to keep a step ahead of the authorities. But it's also due to the fact that the more people are feeling the pinch the more they worry, and the more they worry the more they want a fresh cup of coffee. Then again, with her suppliers warning that they don't know how long they'll be able to keep giving her what she needs to keep her business going with the embargo in place, she can't joy in the increased business - that won't do her any good if she can't open at all later.

But, as always, Margaret keeps her thoughts to herself and instead focuses on what she's doing - wiping off tables so that they're ready for more customers. The cafe has a handful of booths on the back wall, a few loose in the middle, and a couple of stools at the counter. The booths are the most popular, as they offer a feeling of privacy, and a few customers are scattered among them. Margaret keeps an eye out for any of them that need anything from her, but at the moment things are quiet so she's using the opportunity to clean.

[rebecca]

Rebecca wasn't sure what drew her to the place as she walked down the street after an interview with her favorite mafia informer, Mr. Larosa. No, that would have been lie; she knew exactly what appealed to her about it. It looked so ordinary, shabby, old in a place she's used to being constructed of shiny metal and glass. It was the perfect place to disappear and have some time to herself in order to collect her thoughts. She stepped to front of the small cafe and hesitated only a moment before she opened the door.

She'd chosen her ordinary civilian look for the day. She wore a pair of white sneakers, faded jeans, and floral tank top to combat the Gotham Summer heat. She lifted the sunglasses she was also wearing to balance on the top of her head as she entered the building. It looked a little more suave within, but still rather ordinary. She instantly found herself liking it even more. There was a comfort about it, like a warm hug from her mother. She definitely knew she found a momentary retreat. She paused to scope out a seat as she held her large shoulder bag close to her body—it's instinct on this side of town. She was soon in one of the booths against the back wall, inhaling the scent of coffee and finding herself watching the patrons mingle.

Lately, she'd been feeling more and more caged. She could sense the tensions rising in Gotham because of the embargo, the F.B.I. Presence, and the looming questions that still remained about this P.R.O.T.E.C.T. Document. Mr. Larosa had just minutes ago explained nervously that the mafia was even feeling the strain. She was feeling thrown into a boiling pot, helpless to do anything but watch as the inevitable boil over built. Yet, she couldn't be helpless. She had to be able to do something, and in this cafe she felt for a moment she had breathed in fresh air, maybe if she continued to stay here a moment her head would fully clear. Then she could make plans.

She snatched a menu from beside her tin of napkins and pretends to be perusing it. Okay, she really is perusing it, but she's doing so distractedly, only half-attentively reading it for the moment.

[powermaniac184]

Lisa like coffee, it kept her awake and it kept her feeling good. She needed a breath of fresh air, and the closing boundaries of the City were cutting off supplyers and the coffee. She also hated the coffee in the office, tasted like burned cardboard. She had heard great reviews about it. Her heels clicked as she opened the door, people were on their smartphones, talking, and the smell of muffins got to her. She loved baking, and liked cake and muffins. Some people turned their heads and saw Lisa, she smirked lightly when she saw Rebecca McNeal, "Rebecca! Great seeing you here, you should join me"

Lisa walked over to a recently cleaned and empty both. Lisa put down her brown bag. "So, how are you?" Lisa had also done her homework on Rebecca after the interview she had sent some information that was told to her about P.R.O.T.E.C.T that wasn't allowed to be shared. It had been a few days since the interview, people stopped and would wave at Lisa or compliment on her work. Strange isn't it, that people take an interest into someone like Lisa who has her reputation at stake and working tobring it back.

She smiled at the woman who had just cleaned the table, looking at the menu, only the woman seemed to be working, probably because she ran the place. Decent way to make a living though hard work. She looked at the woman with auburn hair and compassion, "Hello, I would like a piece of chocolate cake, one blueberry muffin, and a cup of coffee, thanks" . She was interested in Rebecca, after all. It was good having a girlfriend in Gotham.

"Gotham seems to be getting worse and worse each day, not to mention the cases are finally slowing down. That isn't always a good thing, because now they seem blending, more homicides, suicides and sex crimes. Yesterday I just prosecuted a man who raped a seven year old. He didn''t have a chance, yet he felt bad for what he did. He was sentenced to federal prison without parole." Lisa had re-died her hair red today, but she definitly was going to die it strawberry blonde, after all it was something she did once in a while.

[question]

It had been one of those weeks. Where the days literally blended together for Vic. It started Monday, or at least he was going to assume to know that was the day it had all started to blur together. He couldn't get out of the city to even remotely snatch some of his things from Hub. The city had been cut off an the added presence made him the slightest bit more on edge. Lies. It made him several more. Charlie found himself constantly looking over his shoulder be it while he was the Question or Charles Victor Sage Szasz.

He decided to tuck into the quaint little cafe to try an take the edge off the multi-day. He had been going since what he though was monday. All Vic knew for sure was that it had been fifty-two hours an thirteen minutes since he had slept last. Between looking for ways out of the city, helping keep the increased crime rate down, stalking the F.B.I. an chasing his own theories, when was he supposed to have the time for such things as sleep. Clearly it was over rated.

He passed another patron as he took a seat in a corner booth, thus no one could sneak behind him an stab him in the back. Yes, he was just that paranoid. He was going to try his damnedest to ignore the conversation at the other table.

Vic ran his hands threw his messy mop of flame red hair, clad in a fitted black shirt an dark colored jeans. He had laid the menu flat on the table while he now had his head propped in the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on the table. It wasn't often that he was out of costume here lately, but the break may have been needed. Vic was quite sure Helena would have killed him if she knew that he had been up this long.

Coffee was however the first thing on his mind, not only was it said that zombies, no matter what the kind, detested the smell an taste of it but It had caffeine in it, lots an lots of Caffeine.
An some sort of a sandwich didn't sound half bad either.

Better than the cheap Chinese food, as another had put it.

[megan]

Very well attuned to the sound of the front door opening without needing to put something noisy on it, Margaret glances up at the woman coming in, but her gaze quickly falls back to the table. She's very good at reading people, and knowing what they need - or want - from her. And since the newcomer doesn't appear to be in any particular hurry, Margaret won't hurry to serve her. Instead she finishes the table that she's wiping in order to give her a moment to look over the menu.

But just as she's finishing another woman comes in and joins the first, and this one has a very different demeanor; this one isn't really in a hurry, but will act like it whether she is or not. Margaret doesn't get a lot of those, but she knows the type. She throws the rag she's using over her shoulder and heads over.

Sure enough, the second woman spouts out her order the moment that Margaret makes her way over to their table, and she simply nods to it. She's an old hat at this, and doesn't bother writing it down - she can remember. "And what'll you have?" she asks Rebecca brightly - or at least, as bright as Margaret tends to get. She's already feeling a little tired and her work day isn't even half over yet, and that combined with her worried thoughts tends to suck the life right out of her. Still, that's no reason not to try to sound sociable when interacting with people who are still young enough to actually have energy.

When another customer comes in and sits in the back, she nods in his direction to acknowledge that she sees him, but obviously she can't get to him immediately. Running the place by her lonesome means that such pileups occur, but she doesn't often get complaints. And if people are impatient enough to be too bothered by it, she's not that worried about losing them as a customer - she has enough patient people to keep her busy already.

[rebecca]

She looked up politely from her menu at the woman's voice and did move to join her. She smiled tiredly at the question, “Honestly? I feel like I've not slept in a week, I've been thrown into a washer on spin cycle, and I'm not sure how I'm still functioning.” She laughed lightly and then sighed, but she put on a bright face for the woman in charge.

“Oh, um...I'll take a lemon muffin and a cup of coffee too, nothing added, just black, please.”

Then it was back to listening to Lisa's complaints. Which she didn't mind hearing, in fact she held the same general sentiments. She pushed her menu aside and stared at the door and then the windows which showed the streets outside.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth a moment, “Gotham is getting worse, it's like a termite infestation. Everything seems to be quieting, which yes, causes everything to blend. Soon it'll seem like everything is getting better, but that's because the suffering is silent. The mania will be hushed at first then it'll be a small whisper. That whisper will grow into a buzz, until everything bursts. This embargo, this government order...It's only a matter of time until the hysteria grows. You really think the government is going to help us when we run out of food? Soon this whole city will be starving and you know what they'll say?”

She stopped a moment, her look which had been becoming tight suddenly went sober and apathetic. “They'll say, 'Too fucking bad'. To stop an infestation, you destroy the source, you show no mercy, what's to stop the government from just letting us die out to stop these Rogues, these criminals?” She snorted derisively. “Nothing, that's what. Soon we'll have too much need and they'll be too little resources. Even if they ration our food. It's to keep us weak. They speak in distaste about concentration camps, but what do you think they've done to us? They isolated us, like a plague. We've all been judged sinners and now we're being smite.”

She was a little startled at her outburst, but it was one she'd been internalizing for a while. She had already opened her mouth, there was no use stopping now.“But when the burst comes, it'll be strong. The Rogues are brooding, planning. The darkest day hasn't come yet. The F.B.I...they've damned us all for their little 'order'.”

[question]

Vic continued to attempt to ignore the conversation, but it was informing him a bit so he couldn't help but pay attention. Apparently it was an embargo on the city an he had been correct in his assumptions in that, But this was to stop all the rouges. It wasn't going to work, They thrive in situations like this.

They care not for the legality of things, they will get hold of supplies an build power with it, Grow legions. Which means, but trying to stop the source was only giving them the edge.
Great, this meant more work for him an the others. The needed a plan, needed to try a get ahead of the curve, an for once he would be able to say I told you so to the others about his theories on government takeover.

Now was not the time, he was trying to let himself relax, key word. Trying. An failing. this was probably why he looked as run down as he did.

He looked back at the menu an failed to pick anything, but he had time to whip up an Idea.

[megan]

Nodding once to Rebecca's order, Margaret's about to move on to ask the man in the back for his so that she can whip them all together at once, but their topic of conversation is of interest and for once it's something she can comment upon. Too often what her customers are talking about are things that will get her shot if she shows any sign that she's been listening - whether it should be perfectly obvious that she would have overheard or not.

But gossip, rumors, and speculation? That's something she knows more than a little about. "Quiet? Yeah, I hear that the feds are already going after a couple rogues. The rest are hiring any man who'll work for 'em to fight back with. Mobs too. They call that 'escalation', don't they? And if the feds get their hands on too many of them, the rest will get much, much meaner," Margaret comments with a shake of her head, "Just you wait: every man who loses his job 'cause of businesses closing 'cause of the embargo will be be given a gun a new job: killing feds. And honest types will worry more 'bout getting caught in the crossfire than they will 'bout starving." Though someone like Margaret, liked by nearly everyone, will probably be fine. Or, not, and she doesn't really care which.

She shakes her head again, having been around enough of the shadier people or their men enough to see the outcome of all of this easily. But that's apparently all she has to say for the moment because she adds, "I'll be right back with your order," and steps away to head over to the man's table and ask, "What can I get you today?"

[rebecca]

Rebecca listened to Margaret and nodded, “Exactly,” she in said a low, but agreeing tone. She picked up a napkin from its container and began to pick at it, tearing it into strips and then pieces as she continued to speak.

“The government thinks they're smart, these F.B.I. Agents they think that by placing this embargo that the rogues are going to run out of supplies. Yes, they will...but what, they think they'll just surrender?” She grit her jaw.

“The rogues are going to get desperate, that's what's going to happen. Desperate Gotham Rogues...they're really not doing anyone a favor, they're digging our graves.”

[question]

Vic looked up at the lady an smiled brightly despite his exhausted appearance. He had been pondering the thought for a moment or two before the who he had assumed was the owner walked over to the table he was at.

"Surprise me" He said as bright as the sun was hot. "As long as I get a cup of coffee."

He was desperately trying to ignore th previous conversation. Vic had to keep telling himself he was here to try an unwind.

Be in the company of others besides crazed criminals or people in masks.

[megan]

"Alright," Margaret replies, noting internally that more people should give her that option - too few people really know what need, even when it comes to what they eat.

Quick to step away from him and behind the counter now that she has three customers waiting for her, Margaret is quick to prepare the orders. The baked goods take no more time than it takes to grab them off the shelf, and the coffee is also quick. The surprise for the man takes a bit longer, but even that she can make with the finesse of years of practice.

Only a few minutes later she returns, carrying all of it on a small platter so that she doesn't have to make multiple trips. First she deposits a cup of black coffee in front of the man, along with a large club sandwich - one of her specialties. Then she heads over to the two women to bring them their coffee and muffins, and the cake for the busy-looking one.

As she hands each woman their order she comments, "One thing the criminals in Gotham don't lack is creativity. If they run of out bullets - well, they don't need bullets to kill anyone. But even so one of them is sure to figure away around the blocks and will get supplies in and sell 'em to the rest. They'll have the feds on the ropes so fast their heads'll spin." She shakes her head at that before adding, "What's worse, if the feds worry 'em too much, they'll start workin' together instead of holdin' each other back. And by the time the feds realize it's not workin', everything will be a real mess." She shakes her head again. Yes, she can see it all coming, but she's not about to start offering up any thoughts on what to do about it. What would be the point in trying to hold back the inevitable?

[rebecca]

Rebecca took her muffin and coffee and was silent as she took bite and sip of the goods, content at the taste of the coffee and the tang of the lemon sweet. She nodded with her mouth full at Margaret.

"Once again, right. Conflict brings people together, whether or not they're lawful citizens or Rogues. Push them hard enough, like the Feds are doing now...and they'll join forces for at least long enough to stand up against the government forces. And we'll be caught in the middle."

[question]

Vic was all but too close to putting his head into the table. He knew that eventually the current topic of choice would get to him an he would toss in his two cents about it. Right now he just wanted to enjoy this sandwich an coffee.

After the first few bites he had made up his mind about at least one thing.

He was leaving an awesome tip.

(sorry that it's short I'm having to use my iPod to reply. My internet won't load the site tonight past the top bar. )

[megan]

Giving a sort of resigned sigh to that, Margaret makes a face and comments, "Makes a person want to leave while ya can - I heard they're only lettin' people leave on the one bridge and only for a couple more days. But I also heard that it's a very good way to get arrested if ya have anything at all to be ashamed of 'cause they're gettin' everybody somehow." Which means that she suspects that it would not be a good idea for her to try to leave. Not that she's ever set a toe on the wrong side of the law personally, but the things that she knows... Not that she has anywhere to go if she left Gotham.

Long since finished serving the food, Margaret seems hesitant to move along. Mostly because, though she isn't known for it, she actually enjoys gossiping about things that she's safe to say. It's just that most of her customers are the type who want to be left alone with their paper or their thoughts, this is stuff that people who live closer to her cafe than these ladies already know, and she tends to have a lot to do. And though she actually does have a lot to do at the moment, all of it is stuff that will keep for a few minutes at least and she really is worried about all of this. And Margaret worrying is always a bad sign given what doesn't worry her.

[rebecca]

Rebecca chewed more on her muffin, "They'd catch me." She finally said. "I have connections in much of the mobs, some of the more shady characters, and I make a living sometimes invading people's privacy."

She took another sip of her coffee, "I'm an investigative reporter. I really press buttons and deal with things and go where other reporters won't. And I pay for it in trouble, I promise." She voiced with a sigh.