[ If there's one thing that he's glad for in this godforsaken city, it's that there's coffee.
Ok, the happiness lasts for about thirty seconds until he realizes it's going to be almost literal hell to get a cup of the damn stuff. Because just like everything else in 1700s Paris, it's a hot mess. The lines are long, people squabble and argue and even break out into some truly spectacular fist fights.
He thought waiting in line for Starbucks in the morning and having to listen to some self important businessman yell at the barista was an awful time. Clearly, he was wrong. Arthur amends his wrongness and adds this to the list of things he never wants to have to deal with again, the length of which is getting longer by the day.
Through some serendipity (or rather, quick hands, quick thinking, and even quicker feet), he manages to snag two cups of coffee from some unsuspecting people. He doesn't feel too bad about it, since they sounded like assholes and also he's a heartless bastard. Coffee is his now, not theirs.
But maybe he'd gotten carried away with getting two cups, because after days and days without caffeine, the first cup hits his system like a bomb. Feeling extremely awake for the first time in a while, he tracks down a very specific person, since this seems like the kind of thing she'd be into. ]
Hey. [ Is all he says at first, as he drops into step next to Dany on the street. ] Got you a present.
drop it like it's hot (all down someone's shirt)– achilles
[ With his first coffee experience having gone exceptionally well, he tries his hand again. It's risky and crazy and he's possibly an idiot, but he's made his peace with his coffee addiction. And also his idiocy with the matter.
This time, there aren't two bystanders with loose hands around their cups. Every patron seems to have their fingers curled in the loops of their cup handles, something that irritates him to no end. Still, he does his best to remain unobtrusive, keeps his posture more on the slouched end. At some point, he gets lucky and a delivery boy leaves the back door to a shop open just enough. Arthur sneaks in, feeling like a pre-teen trying to shoplift for the first time.
When he emerges, he's got a small bag of coffee beans tucked away and a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He avoids the main road, intent on looping back around after he drinks and depositing the cup onto a table waiting to be bussed.
Except as he's looking in one direction, he misses the sound of someone nearby, who he collides with when he turns sharply. Coffee sloshes out of the cup, now unfortunately caught between, spilling out in a spray onto their clothes. ]
locked to labeled characters
[ If there's one thing that he's glad for in this godforsaken city, it's that there's coffee.
Ok, the happiness lasts for about thirty seconds until he realizes it's going to be almost literal hell to get a cup of the damn stuff. Because just like everything else in 1700s Paris, it's a hot mess. The lines are long, people squabble and argue and even break out into some truly spectacular fist fights.
He thought waiting in line for Starbucks in the morning and having to listen to some self important businessman yell at the barista was an awful time. Clearly, he was wrong. Arthur amends his wrongness and adds this to the list of things he never wants to have to deal with again, the length of which is getting longer by the day.
Through some serendipity (or rather, quick hands, quick thinking, and even quicker feet), he manages to snag two cups of coffee from some unsuspecting people. He doesn't feel too bad about it, since they sounded like assholes and also he's a heartless bastard. Coffee is his now, not theirs.
But maybe he'd gotten carried away with getting two cups, because after days and days without caffeine, the first cup hits his system like a bomb. Feeling extremely awake for the first time in a while, he tracks down a very specific person, since this seems like the kind of thing she'd be into. ]
Hey. [ Is all he says at first, as he drops into step next to Dany on the street. ] Got you a present.
drop it like it's hot (all down someone's shirt)– achilles
[ With his first coffee experience having gone exceptionally well, he tries his hand again. It's risky and crazy and he's possibly an idiot, but he's made his peace with his coffee addiction. And also his idiocy with the matter.
This time, there aren't two bystanders with loose hands around their cups. Every patron seems to have their fingers curled in the loops of their cup handles, something that irritates him to no end. Still, he does his best to remain unobtrusive, keeps his posture more on the slouched end. At some point, he gets lucky and a delivery boy leaves the back door to a shop open just enough. Arthur sneaks in, feeling like a pre-teen trying to shoplift for the first time.
When he emerges, he's got a small bag of coffee beans tucked away and a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He avoids the main road, intent on looping back around after he drinks and depositing the cup onto a table waiting to be bussed.
Except as he's looking in one direction, he misses the sound of someone nearby, who he collides with when he turns sharply. Coffee sloshes out of the cup, now unfortunately caught between, spilling out in a spray onto their clothes. ]
Fuck!