- Genres
- Magical, Fantasy, Supernatural, Sci Fi, Steam Punk, Noir, HORROR, and I'm willing to try Romance.
A chirpy voice met Sean as he asked for help. She was a large woman, bright makeup scrawled across her lips and the crows feet spidering from her eyes were only loosely covered by smeared glitter turquoise eye shadow. She spoke too loudly, too brightly, too happily to be anything more than trying too hard. Twenty years in the same place on the same day at the same hour had worn her into something inhuman, something robotic. If she wasn't happy, she couldn't tell any longer. Life was simply the process of greeting and waving, smoke breaks with the same people, home at the same hour with the same meals and the same shows.
"Sorry sugar," She said to Sean with mechanical chipper, "Cooks already slated in for the lunch rush now, but take a menu and tell me what you're feeling like." She handed him a menu, a glossed thing with the restaurant name bolded on the front. As far as diners went, this one wasn't much different then any other. No self respecting cook worked here and what was left were just those who could follow directions. Nothing fancy, nothing diverse, just sticking to the usual formula.
"Rex!" She called, waving the bright eyed server to Sean, "New customer honey, treat him right hear?" And then she was gone, staring blankly at the door again as if her entire existence pivoted on the restaurant's success.
In the back, Basha was grilling three burgers and lifting a hissing batch of fries from the grease trap. The smell of oil filled his nostrils, almost enough to make him gag, but there was more grit to an old wolf than that and he smiled through his work. He worked with the trappings of each burger with but a second more time than any other cook in a diner might take. The customer may never notice, but he made sure the order was completed to specification. It was hard to take pride in ones work at the lower end of the totem, but if one hadn't the ability to appreciate any walk of life...well, perhaps they didn't deserve walking.
Leaning across the counter, a clang of an overused bell quiet amid the bustle of lunch, he caught Sean's scent...caught it hard. For a moment he hung there, mouth filled with the stench of another wolf, thick aggression coiling along the usual routes. Basha pulled back, resisting the urge to snarl. His teeth had grown, filling his mouth awkwardly as heavy incisors crowded a human jawline. Taking a deep breath, the old wolf banished his aggression, crammed it against the back of his skull with enough force to water his eyes and send ribbons of shock webbing through his body.
As his form reverted human, Basha took a short leave to step out back and breathe, sighing frustration at how far he'd seemed and how little distance he'd actually made. Savagery was not something learned but innate, a nature as permanent as his own skin. Being human was not taming it, just masking it, as this new wolf had shown him. The revelation was almost enough to crumble the old wolf's resolve to this stupid journey of self...but like with all commitments, he wouldn't let it shatter so easily.
How many others in this city now? How many others would find this quiet place and think the same thing he did...safety, tranquility.
How many of his old enemies would he meet again?
With a deep breath, Basha turned back into the kitchen, immediately swamped with orders. It was easier to lose himself among the small things, the trivial troubles.
The bigger problems he'd leave till later...after all, no one had recognized him yet. There was no need to worry.
"Sorry sugar," She said to Sean with mechanical chipper, "Cooks already slated in for the lunch rush now, but take a menu and tell me what you're feeling like." She handed him a menu, a glossed thing with the restaurant name bolded on the front. As far as diners went, this one wasn't much different then any other. No self respecting cook worked here and what was left were just those who could follow directions. Nothing fancy, nothing diverse, just sticking to the usual formula.
"Rex!" She called, waving the bright eyed server to Sean, "New customer honey, treat him right hear?" And then she was gone, staring blankly at the door again as if her entire existence pivoted on the restaurant's success.
In the back, Basha was grilling three burgers and lifting a hissing batch of fries from the grease trap. The smell of oil filled his nostrils, almost enough to make him gag, but there was more grit to an old wolf than that and he smiled through his work. He worked with the trappings of each burger with but a second more time than any other cook in a diner might take. The customer may never notice, but he made sure the order was completed to specification. It was hard to take pride in ones work at the lower end of the totem, but if one hadn't the ability to appreciate any walk of life...well, perhaps they didn't deserve walking.
Leaning across the counter, a clang of an overused bell quiet amid the bustle of lunch, he caught Sean's scent...caught it hard. For a moment he hung there, mouth filled with the stench of another wolf, thick aggression coiling along the usual routes. Basha pulled back, resisting the urge to snarl. His teeth had grown, filling his mouth awkwardly as heavy incisors crowded a human jawline. Taking a deep breath, the old wolf banished his aggression, crammed it against the back of his skull with enough force to water his eyes and send ribbons of shock webbing through his body.
As his form reverted human, Basha took a short leave to step out back and breathe, sighing frustration at how far he'd seemed and how little distance he'd actually made. Savagery was not something learned but innate, a nature as permanent as his own skin. Being human was not taming it, just masking it, as this new wolf had shown him. The revelation was almost enough to crumble the old wolf's resolve to this stupid journey of self...but like with all commitments, he wouldn't let it shatter so easily.
How many others in this city now? How many others would find this quiet place and think the same thing he did...safety, tranquility.
How many of his old enemies would he meet again?
With a deep breath, Basha turned back into the kitchen, immediately swamped with orders. It was easier to lose himself among the small things, the trivial troubles.
The bigger problems he'd leave till later...after all, no one had recognized him yet. There was no need to worry.