honeyandwine | It's always fun to lose control, blinded by the bright lights. (Open)

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It's always fun to lose control, blinded by the bright lights. (Open)

After the Hydra incident, Tristan is trying to keep up business as usual, even with the damage done to the front of his shop. Currently, Riley's wonderful enchantment still resides, and Tristan finds himself reluctant to replace such a lovely concoction. So today, Tristan is working on making his wares extra special for customers. He's putting an extra effort to include as many comforting and cheering charms in his food and drinks, and he's offering free snacks/drinks to those who look like they especially need it.

He's in the middle of a newer cheering charm, mixing it into a banana cream pie, when suddenly, he mispronounces a word and an instant reaction of puffed smoke clouds into the air.

He turns to find a reflection of himself in one of his stoves, and he gapes.

"What in the hell?"

(OOC: The ~charm is going to last a bit, and it will keep making reappearances with new Hobbit footage/trailers/the new movie/etc. I regret nothing. >:D)

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Deciding to explore the shops on the Boardwalk, Kennedy thought to herself that this bakery looked promising. Just as she steps up to the counter to order something, she witnesses the man in the kitchen transform right in front of her.

"Well," she looks him up and down, eyes widening. "That's different."

"Typically, I try not to dress in with the theme of the name," he jokes, running a hand through his now awkwardly long hair. "Can I help you, miss?"

"At least the hair and crown are pretty dang fabulous," she nods approvingly. "Slice of apple pie to go?"

"Well, thank you. I'm glad someone thinks so," he grins. "Certainly. Would you like whipped cream on top of that? And anything to drink?"

"Definitely yes to the whipped cream and if you're going to twist my arm, have any coffee? Kind of addicted," she admits, pulling a face. "I feel like it's going to be a loooong day."

"Alright, one slice of apple pie with whipped cream, coming right up," he says. "And how do you like your coffee?"

"Black, like my soul. Just kidding," she grins. "I need it strong."

"Haha," he grins. "For a second there, I almost believed you."

He quickly gathers everything he needs, slicing off a piece of pie fresh from the oven, coating it in a good layer of whipped cream and cinnamon, before packing it into a lovely box, ribbon and all.

He moves to start brewing her coffee, a new, local brand he's found to be a hit in the past few days.

"Anything extra in your coffee? Nutmeg, hazlenut, cream?"

Kennedy takes the box, glancing over it with an impressed grin. "Is this a small town thing? I've lived all over, and no place has packaged their treats so lovely as this." She perches on the counter, rubbing a finger against her chin as she thinks. "Let's go wiiiithh...nutmeg. Hey, question. Are you from here?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," he tells her. "I picked it up watching other bakeries in Paris and Boston." He takes down a coffee cup and fills it with coffee and the requested nutmeg, stirring until the liquid settles into a smooth, dark surface that glimmers like a lake on a summer morning. He makes sure to put an extra cut of cardboard around the cup to make sure she doesn't burn herself before handing it over to her.

"I actually just moved here and opened up shop. You?" He asks, wondering if he's seen her around before.

Taking the coffee with an appreciative smile, she blows softly on the liquid to cool it down before taking a sip and making a satisfied noise. "Good choice on the nutmeg, well done. What do I owe you?"

"Newbie. Well I was born here, but we moved away shortly after so a born-again-newbie you could say?" she says with a wave of her hand." I opened an art store just a few shops down from yours actually..." she pauses and studies his face quickly, finally recognizing him from one of the paintings currently for sale in her shop. Awkward.

"Your total today is five dollars even," he tells her with a grin, watching as she sips from her coffee and pleased to find she approves.

"Born again newbie? You don't go around handing out flyers about the state of newcomers souls do you?" He asks with another crooked grin. "Oh, an art shop? I'll have to check your place out then. I'm fond of art."

"...what?" He asks when she appraises him, a look on her face like she recognizes him from somewhere. It's an odd feeling.

"Only five bucks?" she comments, digging out her wallet and handing him a five dollar bill as she drops a tip in a tip jar. "Delicious coffee, pie, and a good price. I bet customers love you."

"Please, if I start all that, promise you'll take me to the hospital," Kennedy laughs. "That's good to hear. I sell supplies, my own pieces, and lessons, if you're interested."

Kennedy blinks and shakes her head, slapping on a smile. "Your face seems familiar. Must just have that look about you." She freezes again, a vision flashing across her eyes. She closes them and rubs her temples. "Do you have a pen?"

"I try to keep people happy," he says with a shrug. And it's true; above all else, his goals are to make people happy.

"I promise," he assures her with a faux solemnity. "Really? That sounds awesome. I'd love to take an art class sometime."

He takes in the way she freezes and, so to speak, his witch senses are starting to tingle. "Yeah. Sure."

He reaches into a jar next to the register and offers her one of the pens he always keeps on hand.

"Good motto for a business."

She takes the pen with a thanks and grabs a napkin. She works fast--sketching the brief flashing of what she's seen. Sometimes when she draws a vision, Kennedy only sees the details and doesn't see the full image of the vision until she steps back from the finished piece, and she doesn't like the message of this one. She slides the napkin across the counter--it's image strikingly similar to one she's painted before, a young Asian woman, sleeping underneath the water.

"Do you know her?" Normally she hides her visions and draws them later, but she's seen this girl before. That man Bach recognized her. And the pie man in front of her triggered the vision. In her experience, that told her he would have something to do with the image on the napkin.

Tristan doesn't say anything as he watches her sketch, getting the sense that she's one hell of an artist as a shape starts to form on the napkin. He leans over the counter to get a better look, and pales when he recognizes what appears to be Riley laying eerily still underneath the water.

"Riley?" He can't help but gape at the image, hoping it's just a mistake. He looks back up at the other girl. "How often do your drawings come true?"

She looks up at him. "The Hydra attacked, right? So...as far as I'm aware...that puts me at 90% accuracy. I rarely know when they'll happen, so that changes the percentage..."

"You saw the Hydra attack before it happened?" He stares at her, horrified. "Oh, God. We need to tell Riley, so she can at least be prepared." He's trying not to panic but the thought of the picture this woman's drawn coming to life terrifies Tristan more than anything.

"Two weeks ago, actually." She nods and pats his hand--he seems genuinely concerned. "At least this time someone knows who it is. It doesn't have to come true. Do you know how to contact her?"

"...Jesus, that's one hell of a gift," he says, rubbing his hand over his chin. "I don't have her number, actually, but she works at Coombs & Co., so it shouldn't be difficult to reach her."

"Yeah, and I never know the whens or wheres. I've seen her before, just her face. I have a painting in the shop that a man named Bach recognized of her." Kennedy shrugs. "I have no idea what that is."

"As a witch, you'll want to know it," he tells her. "They sell all sorts of herbs and potions, some charms, too, for those in need of them. And actually, I do need to visit there, considering..." He gestures to himself.

"Oh really? Sounds like a must-see." See appraises him again. "Really? This is such a good look. But you're right, should visit and tell the girl about my drawing. If she'll believe me."

"I don't know how I feel about having permanent platinum hair," he says dryly.

"Yes, actually, if you wouldn't mind coming with me, I can take my break now and head over? She should know as soon as possible."

"I'll always remember you this way," she teases, grabbing up her coffee and box of pie. "I'd be happy to come along. Lead the way, my king."

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