|
|
Post by kiki on Jul 5, 2013 14:44:55 GMT -6
We live like rock stars, dance on every bar  This is who we are, I don't think we'll ever change - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was early in the morning, and Silver was still tired. Coffee surely wouldn't help, but she decided to give it yet another try. The only way Silver was going to be able to sleep properly, was if the Nightmares she had been having just stopped. It was stressful enough knowing how her dad died. She didn't want to know many other ways he could have died ... all the more gruesome and horrific than what actually happened. It haunted the young redhead, and today she just was not in the mood to confront anyone like she normally did at the inn.
People gave her odd looks, probably wondering why, of all people, Silver was down and tired enough to sleep through a thunder storm. With a soft and tired sigh escaping her lips, she waited for someone to come over and ask what she wanted. She didn't mind waiting at all. It gave her enough time to just ponder and think about how to get rid of these blasted nightmares. And yes, Silver tried telling someone.
As she waited, she looked around seeing others laughing and enjoying their time with their friends. It made her smile a bit, but it didn't last long when the frown she wore earlier replaced it and she went back to looking at the menu absently. There were many delicious foods on here, but non seemed to appease her at the moment. That was off, even for her, because she loved to eat if it was cooked right and didn't smell like feet. Silver closed the menu, not wanting to look at the food inside of it and she sat back in her chair, waiting for someone to take her order.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES: Poor Silvy. She's not herself today 
STATUS: Finished
TAGGED: Ross
WORDS: 293
CREDITS: Mellybelly @ Caution 2.0
|
|
|
|
Post by marigolds on Jul 5, 2013 15:23:52 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeebe3; width: 450px, bTable]  notes woooo!count 314tags silver Ross takes a steadying breath and pushes the bandana looped around his neck over his forehead to hold back his hair while he cooks. The inn is unusually quiet this morning, only a few patrons lingering in the booths and tables, their voices spreading throughout the room in a quiet, buzzing murmur. Ross is thankful for it, doesn’t like having to deal with too many people at once so early in the day. He’s had an easy day in the kitchen, as well, making simple dishes like omelets and pancakes instead of french toast or crepes, things that take a lot of time to prepare in comparison.
The bell tinkles cheerily as another customer comes into the inn; Ross turns from where he’s finishing up some hash browns to cast a glance towards the girl, a tired looking thing that meanders lazily to the bar and has a seat in a stool closer to the kitchen than the register. Since only one waitress is working this early and she’s busy with other tables, Ross gives a single that he’ll take care of the patron at the bar, finishing up the dish and passing it to the waitress, who happily waltzes over to the table its supposed to be going to.
“‘Morning,” Ross says, wiping off his hands with a rag and pulling a spare notepad from a shelf underneath the counter to write down her order. “What’ll it be?” He gives the girl a once-over, taking note of the tired circles under her eyes, the closed-off nature of how she sits; if Ross had to guess, she’s in no mood to deal with bullshit, so Ross won’t make her. He waits patiently, aptly, making sure she knows that she’s got his full attention -- that’s what waiters are supposed to do, anyways, and while he’s not a waiter, he can still be polite.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by kiki on Jul 5, 2013 15:44:32 GMT -6
We live like rock stars, dance on every bar This is who we are, I don't think we'll ever change - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Silver looked up from her thoughts to see a waiter standing before her with a notepad. Damn, she was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't even hear what he said, but she assumed it was to take her order. He looked the part anyway, and why else would he be standing there? Not like anyone else was going to try and talk to her in her condition. Being this tired ... it was not fun for this little redhead.
"Just coffee with milk and sugar please." she told him softly with a tired and lazy-ish tone, giving him a small smile as she did so.
She was thankful he was one of the more polite men and didn't ask why there were bags under her eyes and why she looked like she had a bad hangover. Heh, she wished, but then again she wouldn't be here if she was, being the moody person that she was after drinking so much. Thankfully she didn't do a lot of drinking unless there was a party, a special occasion, or on the holidays.
The redhead turned away from the male waiter again and began thinking again, putting her face in her hand and frowning once more. These nightmares ... they had to stop. They were ruining her day life and beauty sleep. Damian even noticed it the third week she was working for him. However, she hated therapists and their constant dumb questions they asked. That was what her friend told her anyway, Silver had no idea personally what therapists do, but she still didn't want to know.
As she waited for her coffee, she began to him absently and quietly to herself. It was just a random tune that was stuck in her head, and she figured it would help her get her mind off of the dreams she'd been having, and it did for a bit.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES: Aww he's so polite not trying to piss Silver off. 
STATUS: Finished
TAGGED: Ross
WORDS: 325
CREDITS: Mellybelly @ Caution 2.0
|
|
|
|
Post by marigolds on Jul 5, 2013 22:51:26 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeebe3; width: 450px, bTable] notes being polite is in his nature xcount 297tags silver Glad she decides to keep her order simple -- therefore making his day remain simple by default -- Ross gives her a quick nod of acknowledgement, adding that it’ll be out shortly. He turns his back to her to fiddle with the coffee machine, deciding to brew her a fresh batch instead of pouring her the rest of what’s in the pot, as its probably already on the wrong side of lukewarm. He dumps the cooling coffee into the sink, rinses out the canister, replaces the filter and pours fresh coffee grounds and water into the maker, pressing the brew button. The machine comes to life noisily and Ross, satisfied, turns back to the costumer.
“It’ll take a few minutes,” he says, gesturing dismissively towards the coffeemaker, which is just starting to pour fresh coffee into the pot. He piddles around the kitchen for a moment, taking a rag to clean off some of the counters so he doesn’t get swamped later, relieved when the coffee finishes. He pours it into a clean mug and sets it onto the bar in front of her. “One sec,” he says, heading for the fridge with another cup that he pours milk into. Grabbing the bowl of sugar and a spoon, he returns to her seat and sets down the other items. “I didn’t want to ruin it, so I figured I’d let you do the honors,” he says. He doesn’t smile, as that isn’t really something he does, but his eyes -- at least, the one that’s visible -- is kind.
Ross re-secures his bandana as it starts to slip from his hairline. “If you need anything else, just ask,” he says, though he isn’t sure as to why -- this girl really seemed like she wasn’t all that interested in being bothered.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by kiki on Jul 6, 2013 13:01:46 GMT -6
We live like rock stars, dance on every bar This is who we are, I don't think we'll ever change - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Silver gave him a tired smile as she waited for her coffee, continuing to hum to a soft tune that she now had stuck in her head. Got her off of the whole nightmare thing for a while until he gave her coffee to her with milk and un-mixed sugar in it. She took a spoon that was next to her and mixed it in before taking a sip of it.
"This'll wake me up for sure ... thanks." Silver thanked him with a soft smile before going back to her thoughts and playing with red locks of her hair.
She could try to occupy herself with something ... like maybe a sport or a hobby. Maybe she should stop reading horror novels ... but she really didn't think that was that cause of her reoccurring nightmares. No ... it was something else. Fear? Probably. She hadn't exactly been a huge fan of fishing boats since after the incident. Anyone that actually lived here long enough to know what happened with the ship, would know Silver's slight fear of it.
With a soft sigh coming from her lips she began to look at the necklace she had on, and opened it. Two pictures of her and her father lay neatly inside of the locket, and she smiled lightly at it. It didn't bug her too much now that her father was gone, and she could talk about him without crying to tears ... not anymore anyway. She lightly sipped her coffee, drinking it only a little, as she continued to admire the little locket that held the only photo she could take with her of her father.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES: Will this make him talk? XD
STATUS: Finished
TAGGED: Ross
WORDS: 278
CREDITS: Mellybelly @ Caution 2.0
|
|
|
|
Post by marigolds on Jul 6, 2013 13:46:52 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeebe3; width: 450px, bTable] notes mmhmmcount 299tags silver Ross nods politely to affirm hearing her thanks before turning back to the kitchen to continue cleaning. There’s a lull in the chatter, the bell chiming as people leave, and Ross decides to utilize the spare time to do some of the dishes in the sink, rinsing them off by hand and stacking them in the dish rack. He can hear the girl continue humming under her breath as he does so; it’s a tune he doesn’t recognize, but it’s not an act that particularly bothers him. Her voice is soft, quiet from tiredness, and it’s really not distracting as much as it is unconventional, something he isn’t used to -- plus, it’s pretty easy to tune out with the clinking sound of the plates and silverware.
Less easy to ignore, however, are the deep sighs that periodically rack her body. Ross turns a few times to glance at her, but he can only assume it’s from tiredness. She looks like she hasn’t slept much, but even though she’d ordered a coffee to “wake up”, she hasn’t much to drink of it. In fact, she seems to be preoccupied with staring at an open locket, eyes trailing over whatever is inside. Ross assumes it’s a picture of sorts, but isn’t privy enough to ask.
As he steps closer to her to wipe off parts of the counter, he notices that her cup is still mostly full; he frowns, gaze traveling to her face, where she continues to stare at the pair of pictures. “Sorry,” Ross says, feeling a little awkward with interrupting her when she seems so deep in thought. “Is there something wrong with the coffee?” He indicates the fullness of the mug with a nod of his head. “I can brew you another batch if that doesn’t taste right.”
|
|
|
|
|
Post by kiki on Jul 6, 2013 14:38:46 GMT -6
We live like rock stars, dance on every bar This is who we are, I don't think we'll ever change - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Silver snapped out of her thoughts when he looked up at him, then to her coffee that she barely drank. "Oh ... no no nothing's wrong with the coffee. Preoccupied in my thoughts I guess." she replied to him with a soft smile, snapping her necklace locket shut. "I should drink it before it gets cold though."
She took another sip of the sweet hot coffee and put the locket in her shirt so she didn't have to see it again for a while. Maybe taking her mind off of her dad in general would stop the nightmares ... at least for a bit ... or maybe for one whole night. That would be so nice to have ONE night of pure sleep and wake up the next morning without ending up falling asleep somewhere like on a bench or at the beach. Last time, she was sunburned reeaal bad ...
Silver decided to make converse with the guy who gave her the coffee. It was only the polite thing to do .. right? "So, what's your name? I don't think I've ever met you in person before."
She looked to him with her blue eyes and tilted her head to the side some. He had one eye ... like one person she knew, and he seemed to be a good cook too. Although ... she hadn't seen him before ... well not in here anyway. Usually she'd be at a table with some friends or out on a date ... which hadn't happened in quite a while mind you, so she never usually got a good look inside of the kitchen until today. She figured he was new here though. Silver knew a lot of people here, but she didn't know him, so she definitely assumed he was new. Well, no point in not talking with him. After all, that was what Silver Rossi was known for ... besides beating people's heads in when they deserved it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES: 
STATUS: Finished
TAGGED: Ross
WORDS: 334
CREDITS: Mellybelly @ Caution 2.0
|
|
|
|
Post by marigolds on Jul 6, 2013 15:10:02 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeebe3; width: 450px, bTable] notes 8)count 349tags silver “Ah,” Ross murmurs, gaze falling to the counter that he’s cleaning. “Happens to the best of us, I suppose,” he adds, though distractedly at best. There’s a spot of syrup on the counter from an earlier patron’s pancakes that stubbornly refuses to unstick, and Ross ends up scrubbing at it with the warm rag for a good ten seconds before it lifts. The girl mutters something about drinking her beverage before it cools, though Ross merely nods in polite agreement, not particularly invested in the turn the conversation has begun to take. He finishes wiping off the unoccupied parts of the counter and then deposits the rag next to the sink, where it will stay until he has to do more cleaning up.
Ross has only just turned back towards the bar, arms behind him to prop himself up on the counter, when the girl catches his gaze and asks for his name, under the impression that she’d never met him before. He knows he’s seen her around, usually in passing glances from the kitchen, but she’s right -- they’ve never been properly introduced. Even now, Ross isn’t sure as to why she’s interested in him; he’s been told frequently by customers, coworkers, and employers alike that he oftentimes comes off as intimidating. (He isn’t, of course; by his standards, he’s about as calm as they come, although it’s mostly due to his medication and tendency to avoid unpredictability, both with people and scheduling.)
Still, Ross answers, although it’s with a cocked brow and a mild tone of wariness. “Ross,” he says, pushing himself off of the counter to take a step closer to where she sits, mostly on the assumption that they won’t have to talk as loudly. It takes a moment for his manners to catch up with him, but he visibly cringes at himself when he realizes that the courteous thing would be to ask for her name in return. “And yours?” He adds, albeit belatedly. He isn’t usually one for small talk, but perhaps he can do it for the sake of a visibly tired customer.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by kiki on Jul 9, 2013 8:42:34 GMT -6
We live like rock stars, dance on every bar This is who we are, I don't think we'll ever change - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Silver nodded to him and gave him a little smile as he walked over to talk with her so they didn't have to yell across the table. "Heh, yeah happens a lot with me in the morning ..." she admitted softly as she took a sip of her hot and sweet coffee. Of course this was not going to wake her up, she needed something in the morning, and food wasn't really something she wanted believe it or not.
"Silver," she replied to him with a soft smirk spread across her face.
She then started to look at his right eye, and curiosity ran through her mind. How did he lose it? Was it horrible? Was it an accident? Questions ran through her head, but she didn't bother asking and looked back to face him with her vibrant blue eyes. The young redhead decided mentally that she should ask another question besides one that may or may not be so personal. After all, it was rude to leave a conversation at a dead end, right?
"So, is it hard cooking here sometimes? I mean, you have a lot of customers coming in and out of the inn." Silver asked as she took a drink of her sweet coffee, now drinking it more as her mind was distracted my converse with someone else. She could multitask no problem, it was just that sometimes when she was tired she could only focus on one thing. At least she tricked her mind into forgetting about last night. That was good, now all she needed to do was stop having damn nightmares so she could get some sleep! Boy would that be nice ...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
NOTES: Should she ask about the eye-patch? Hmm ... decisions decisions ...
STATUS: Finished
TAGGED: Ross
WORDS: 290
CREDITS: Mellybelly @ Caution 2.0
|
|
|
|
Post by marigolds on Jul 11, 2013 14:09:20 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #eeebe3; width: 450px, bTable] notes it's probably fair to, at this point.count 384tags silver Ross acknowledges her introduction with a slight nod of his head. “Nice to meet you,” he responds, mostly for the sake of appearances. He pretends not to notice the way her eyes linger on his eyepatch, but he does notice it, the morbid curiosity towards what the patch may conceal. It isn’t as if it’s something Ross isn’t used to -- in fact, he’s had people outright ask him what happened, not realizing the touchiness of the subject.
He returns his attentions to straightening up some of the salt and pepper shakers at each beam, but is wary of the girl until she, much to his surprise, asks about his job as opposed to the eyepatch. It shocks him, but doesn’t really put him at ease. Continuing the conversation means it might crop up eventually, likely in the form of an offhand comment, a ruse that states that she only just noticed, that she hadn’t been staring at it for God knows how long.
“There are other cooks,” Ross answers, straightening up to meet her gaze. “It’s not like I work here all day by myself, but I’m usually the only one around in the mornings. Less busy,” he explains, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt, unrolling and rolling it back up again so the fabric rests above his elbow. The bell tinkles cheerily somewhere in the background, but when Ross’ attentions flit briefly towards the door, a couple is merely leaving, idly chattering about something insignificant to him.
Ross doesn’t necessarily plan to say anything else, lest the conversation take another turn into something even longer, but as he notices the circles under her eyes, the weary stature of sitting, the clutch on her coffee, he can’t help but see a little of himself in her, usually after awakening from a bad dream, can’t help the mild insistence to ask about it. “Rough night?” He blurts, although he isn’t sure if that’s specific enough. Perhaps it hadn’t even been called for. He averts his gaze to her coffee, now halfway gone, and wonders if she’d been content with him being a distraction. It might’ve been pretty impolite to bring it up, but he doesn’t apologize for it. She wouldn’t even be talking to him if some part of her didn’t want his company.
|
|
|
