| Feed the Wolves! |
| Summary: | A couple of Walkers come by Quinn's bakery to partake in deliciousness. |
| Date: | 1944-02-18 |
| Related: | NA |
| Players: |
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Touch of Paris, Higsi
Mon Feb 18, 1944
Taste of Paris, Main and Butler. The two story building has been freshly painted a soft eggshell white, the new awning is striped in that eggshell, wine, and candy pink, edged in gold and hangs over several small wrought iron cafe tables. The door is new, painted that deep wine color, with the open/closed sign hanging in the window. The main storefront window has been painted with the name "Taste of Paris" in gilt, with fleur de lis angled in each corner.
Inside, the walls are so pale a blush as to be almost cream, reaching to the midpoint of the wall to the ceiling. The lower half of the wall is gleaming oak that meets the floor of more of the same wood. There are more cafe tables with their chairs, cushions striped in wine and white, and a wide glass display counter that separates the dining area from the rear of the bakery. There are wide ovens, and signs of industry in the back area almost always, except come close to closing time. If one is allowed behind the counter, it is easy enough to find the stairs to the second floor, which has been fitted as living quarters.
Weather:
It is winter. The weather is cool and drizzling.
===
Even with the shop door snugly shut to keep the warm in, one can smell the baking of bread and goodies thickly in the block around Touch of Paris. There's a Quinn merrily working away inside to feed those ovens that make the bakery an oasis of warmth against winter. Blonde hair is up in a sophisticated twist, anchored with shining pins topped with jet. She's dressed in a blue blouse and navy skirt under that palest blue apron, faint sparkles of black and blue in studs in her ears.
There are trays and trays of goods cooling, the glass counter waiting to be filled. There's the teasing note of coffee twining in and around with croissants, bread, turnovers and pie, coming from a large pot on a table in the corner where mugs are neatly stacked and waiting.
There's music on somewhere behind the counter, and Quinn is thoughtlessly singing along with it, her voice sure and rich as she kneads more dough.
—
It's been a tense few days up on the mountain for the Walker wolves and their new arrivals. Figuring out status and placement and… well, then there's Cherry.. a week into her new job at a local diner. Not only does the she-wolf feckin' hate being ordered around by townies, she has to feed them too. And ya'll know how people get with their servers when something isn't right…
.. yeah. Cherry had to bite her tongue and resist taking her 'pretty, slim arms' (as coined by one pig one evening) and wrapping them around someone's throat in a headlock. So she served burgers and chips and just kept her yap shut.
Turns out her shift ended at the same time as Clifton's, and each flagged the other down to walk back to the hills together. Then the scent—oh God.. oh sweet sweet moon mother…
Still clad in her smart little waitress number with a ladies trench coat flung over it, sandy blonde curls hiked up into a messy bun, Cherry practically yanks Clifton into the Touch of Paris bakeshop, nostrils twitching. "How has nobody not told me of this place?" She asks, pausing though to listen to the music. She.. recognizes the tune.
—
Clifton follows along with Cherry, because indeed that smell! He didn't need much coaxing. "Will you forgive me if I let you buy me a pastry?" he jokes as they enter. Such a generous offer. The New York Walker had definitely worked up an appetite in the feed shop, with a new shipment coming in and having to move this and that around. By the time they are actually in the shop, his mouth is practically watering.
—
The singing will soon fall silent, as Quinn will hear the tiny chime of the bell over the door. She will stand up straight, reaching for a towel to clean her hands as she smiles. "Mister Walker, so nice to see you again. And who is the lovely lady you've brought to my shop?" Brows will lift, and there's just a hint of mischief in her expression. Her voice is clearly not Tennessee country, it's nearly European in the way she speaks with a different sort of flow and inflection.
—
Then Cherry notices the lovely lady baker and she wrenches her blue eyes up from the case to Quinn proper. Now she just feels like a heathen in her greasy work dress, reeking of oil and.. yeah. Cherry feels as if her very self is an offense to this wonderland. Still, she remembers her poise and pulls herself up to stand proper and polite and there, in the positioning of her head and shoulders… something that signifies that she has been 'places'. Her lips, the rouge having long worn off, pull into a slight smile. "Hello miss," She offers. "I practically floated here, once I caught wind of the baking goods. Just like a lovestruck thing in the funny pages."
Her blue eyes round themselves in her face, "Go figure I go away awhile and come back to THIS. Thank God." Cherry says earnestly… her words have fine flow but again: bits of Tennessee twang in the occasional syllable. She will let Clif introduce her like a gentleman… after what he just asked of her. c_c
—
Clifton offers a tired but present smile to Quinn, "Good to see you again, Miss." He had learned some Higsi manners during his time here! Even if his New York accent still carried through it all. "This is Cherry. Raised here in Higsi…recently returned." Seeing Cherry's reaction he can't help but chuckle. "Here I thought I had a sweet tooth…" Another glance back to Quinn then "Got a special for today? Or what do you recommend to introduce her?" Speaking of the other Walker.
—
The blonde will tip her head, looking at the other woman. "Hmm. Another Walker? Something about your family seems to be drawn to my shop." There's a flash of a pleased grin. "I wouldn't have it any other way. It's a pleasure to meet you, Cherry."
Eyes will glance to Clifton, before looking at her trays. "I'm not sure what to put on for special today. Part of me wants to do the apple turnovers, but then another part of me says the chocolate croissants are too special not to be THE special. I don't make them as often as I might." A finger will lift, tapping a perfectly rouged bottom lip. "What do you two think?" Then she's on the move, heading for a box. Jesse needs his daily share, after all.
—
Clifton thinks a moment "Well…chocolate croissants DO sound special. Go with those!" He encourages Quinn. "Though honestly everything here always tastes amazing so I might be biased. Did you say…apple turnovers?" There is a slight twinkle of excitement in those eyes. It's like a portable apple pie!
—
Quinn hmms. "Well, why don't you write that up on the chalkboard over by the coffee stand for me? Might it be worth a couple apple turnovers if you make it pretty?" Quinn does seem to know how to bribe the Walker boys for labor! "How is everyone? I've been sticking close to the ovens, with the weather and all. It's been a great baking spell. I've been trying new recipes, considering expanding my menu." She will tuck a couple apple turnovers into pastry paper, and set them atop the counter. Then there's a variety of things tucked into the box the Walker pair can't see behind the counter.
—
"On it!" Clifton accepts the task with a happy tone, heading over to the chalkboard and writing out the words. Surprisingly his handwriting wasn't entirely atrocious either! "I'm sure all the new recipes are great, Quinn. Everything you make always is." Then, coming back over towards the counter, he nods. "If you want pictures of the new items just let me know. I can bring my camera by!"
—
Quinn smiles at Clifton, nudging one of the turnovers in the pastry paper towards him. "Think we should take some and put them over?" She's pointing to the area over the counter. "I was thinking about, once the weather is nicer, asking you to take some scenery pictures outside of town. Something local for the one wall. Give it a little of the local feeling, despite the fact everything else isn't."
—
"Yeah I can do that!" He says, taking the pastry and enjoying a big bite. HIs eyes close a moment, realizing just how hungry he had been and just how good the turnover was. Then, he looks over towards the display area and nods. "Yeah. I think putting some out will help draw people in…the ones who don't have a sense of smell." Okay so true the Walkers had heightened senses anyways, but seriously. Whoever could walk by this store without walking inside must be nose blind!
—
There's a glow when Clifton closes his eyes a moment, clearly enjoying her hard work. "See, this is why I love you Walkers. Not a single one of you ever hides your opinion of my baked goods." Her grin flashes bright, as she moves to start filling the display case, humming softly in her throat. "You both wouldn't mind bringing some goodies home, and making sure Jesse gets some of his daily share, would you?"
—
Clifton grins "Well…glad to be of service!" Such a sacrifice, but it was worth it if it made her happy! Ah Walker humor. "Yeah we can take them for you. I'm sure that'll make Jesse happy." Finishing off the turnover he sighs a content belly sigh. "Thanks, Quinn…that was amazing."
—
Quinn pushes the other over. "I did say I'd pay a couple turnovers. Don't make a liar out of me." She's quite content to resume loading the display case, and let Cherry peruse her array of options from soda bread, croissants, turnovers of multiple fillings, plain bread, and even cookies and brownies!
—
It appears Cherry isn't much of a sweet fan.. she's, in fact, savory! She hovers over a selection of buttery croissants and soda breads. While Clifton savors the turnover, she's still looking at the wares.. though she looks rather heartened at Quinn's kindness toward Jesse. "You read my mind.. I was going to pick something out for him. I'm thinking I would like to buy a whole apple pie though, for sure." She muses, though she's not pushy with it. She understands rations and shortages. "If.. you've any on hand."
Pausing now in her exploration, she watches Quinn thoughtfully. "You know of my brother rather well? Sorry if I'm a bit out of the loop.. this is my first time home in nearly ten years."
—
"I in fact, do have one." Quinn will offer a smile, as she will move to a different rack, to pull forth an apple pie. "You're Jesse's sister? You do favor that same coloring." Quinn's voice is soft and warm. "I wouldn't say I know him well, persay, but I am very fond of him. He comes in and tastes things for me. He's got a very sharp sense of taste."
—
After her talk with her little brother and his massive doldrum, Cherry warms to someone speaking of the young man fondly. Even if Quinn is, to Cherry's assumption, townsfolk. Who could it hurt for her brother to have friends in town? Suddenly the anxious edginess in the tall blonde eases and she turns to regard Quinn with a fond.. relieved look. Her arm tone further pulls the nervous Walker woman out of her shell a bit. "I appreciate that. He is, in fact, my little brother." A fond quirking of her lips at the mention.. he's definitely not little anymore. One tidy brow quirks, "He helps you out? Even better. That boy is a bottomless pit so you needn't worry about him exhausting his services." Said with a snort of laughter. There it is in her tone: the hills, smooth and rough at the same time.
"Thanks for letting him help out.. it's bothered him terribly, how people can be in this town. It seems the ones who come from 'away' are the most…. tolerant." She pads up to the counter to study Quinn. "Clearly you came from away. You are too interesting."
—
"Nothing to appreciate. He was one of the first people in town to actually talk to me." Quinn will share, setting that pie in a box, as she's speaking. "He does. He's quite the musician, as well. I enjoy his music when he plays." There's something in Quinn's voice that hints at something like loneliness, isolation.
"Away would cover it, yes. But I chose Higsi, so that's where home is now." Her family isn't here, but that doesn't seem to matter. The box with the pie, and the other packed with various goodies are put on top of the counter. "No one better let me see them being less than civil to him. I won't have it."
—
Damnit this woman is getting more and more favorable. Cherry isn't used to people in Higsi behaving like this.. especially classy (at a glance) dames like this. Cherry's aloof countenance continues to melt.. melt. She's been lonesome for the camaraderie of womenfolk who aren't related. Though her contemporaries in Hollywood were favorable, it was always dog eat dog. Even for a wolf. She moves closer to the counter and looks past it, at the workspace.. back to Quinn. "It means a lot too me to hear this. My brother has been having a rough time, miss Quinn." Said simply, under her breath to the other blonde while Clifton continues fiddling with the board that he was bid to write on. "A terrible.. shaking of his sense of self. He does not think himself to be useful." She sure is eloquent for a hill woman. She looks to the stack of goodies, back to Quinn. "Thank you for being his friend, his support. He needs it.. but do not tell him I said that. He would kill me for being a meddler… but I.. worry."
A beat. "Um.. do you think you could… show me how you do your work? This is really a neat shop. I'd love a tour. Clifton looks like he's going to be occupied awhile and I'm honestly pretty curious about you and what you do."
—
Classy does tend to show, in the quiet elegance of clothing, the hair, the accessories that are tasteful, but not fake. Brown eyes will lift, looking into those big blue eyes of the other woman as Jesse having a hard time is spoken of. "Not useful? Jesse? He sweeps the floors, he does taste testing, and he's even warned me before something is going to burn a couple times. How could he not feel useless?" There's another smile. "I know. He will never hear it from me. But we protect those we love, even when it means meddling."
There's a blink, as if she's surprised. "My work? You mean baking?" No one has ever asked how, they've just been interested in the end product. "I mean, if you really like flour and sugar and eggs." There's humor her in quick grin.
—
"I've had to deal with crotchety old bastards complaining about their steak and eggs not being perfect… and warding off the odd bum pinch because they think that my being mountain folk allows for that sort of thing." Cherry admits, nostrils flaring. She hasn't her brother's pinpoint acute sense of smell, but a deep drawing of breath feeds to her the plethora of scents to be had here. The smell of baking bread reaches her bones. Sigh. Breathe, just so she can experience it again.
"I came here from California, Quinn. You just don't find this sort of thing there. And I'll have you know that when I was a whelping youth in Higsi back in the 20s and 30s, this sort of bakery just did not exist. It was all old ladies handing out loaves of bread at the flea market… you think of asking for a croissant back then? You'd be looked at like a lunatic. So you'll have to forgive me my.. uh, enthusiasm."
"I like flour, sugar and eggs. So how do you turn those into this?" She indicates a turnover.
—
There's a clenching of her jaw, and there's a rise of color in Quinn's cheek. "Clearly I need to come to the diner and rectify some manners. I don't get this whole mountain folk are lesser… thing." She'd wanted to curse, but this is still business hours, and Quinn has that to think of. "You'll have to tell me when your next shift is." There's a bright, pretty smile, the sort of smile a girl learns to look innocent and harmless.
She will move, flipping up a small wooden countertop to allow Cherry to come behind the counter. "I don't think you find many Parisian inspired bakeries in many places here in the States, currently. I think once everything settles down to normal again, the numbers may increase. After all, how do you keep the boys down on the farm, once they've seen Paree?"
—
This reaction was not lost on the female werewolf. "They say it's a man's world. I beg to differ." Said simply… Cherry doesn't quite feel that elaboration is necessary. "Don't worry about me, miss; I can handle them. I've had to deal with far worse in a place like Los Angeles." Honest. It wasn't easy. It's thanks to Cherry's spirit that the superficial wonderland hadn't eaten her alive. "I work nights, I'm afraid. Spanning the dinner hour up to nine-ish or so. Hours are flexible." As if working nights as a solitary dame is a bad thing. Cherry doesn't seem bothered at all.
Then, the countertop is opened up to allow for access. For five seconds Cherry resembles the curious imp that she once was, and takes a step forth.
A step forth, a pause. Aw hell, it's early. Cherry blushes a bit, "Think I can try making something? I'll.. pay for the ingredients. Even something you have on the go already, since we barged in." A beat, "I've never baked before." Womp womp.
Wait.. an incredulous look, "You've been to Paris?"
—
"I am clearly living in defiance of what they say, no?" The way it's stated has an almost French take in how the sentence is structured. "Single, running my own business without a man in sight, blood or otherwise." There's a smirk. "Oh, I have no doubt you're far tougher than your looks would lead to believe. But I also know if you act on it, you could get in trouble with your job. Me.. what are they going to do, ban me from the diner? Who will bake their bread and pies?" There's a hint of a snort, her nose in the air.
There's a glimmer of surprise. "You needn't pay for them. I think I may enjoy the company. It's just me in here, baking when there's no customers, after all. We can go as simple or complicated as you want, and if you need a hand, I can step in.
There's a pause, almost as if a mask slips over Quinn's face. "I did my apprenticeship there. I got out before they took over Paris." It's a lie. She had been to Paris. She had apprenticed. But she'd been there a lot later in the game than she's letting on.
—
"I would." Cherry says gently, "My family needs the support. If I get fired for cuffing a slob, I could be slandered in town and not get a sniff of work anywhere else." She reasons, brow furrowed as she hovers over the work counter to observe where Quinn had initially (happily) toiled to produce her art. Cherry begins shrugging off the coat, revealing a deceptively svelte frame. She will set the garment aside, clad now in the generic flats, hose and dress of Higsby Diner. She winces though as the removal of the coat releases the smell of fry grease that clings close to her form. "I'm really sorry. I'm a bit.. gross."
A look to Quinn, "But thank you all-the-same. I'll try not to wreck anything.. this day and age, ingredients are not cheap." A pause as she looks down at her hands before looking up in amazement. "You are so fortunate. To have been there. Where were you born and raised? Stateside?"
—
"Exactly. You would lose your income. I would not. Who would dare punish me for correcting a supposed gentleman's manners?" Especially when everything about Quinn alludes to being of a different class you don't really see in Higsi. She will laugh, moving to get a spare apron to offer. "You're fine. You just got off work. Why don't you wash your hands and tell me what you have in mind?"
There's a hint of a lean of a hip to a counter. "No, but I buy in bulk and use old connections to the family to save. Don't fret." She smiles, a hint of amusement. "Philadelphia, born and raised."
—
"So I guess I'm agreeing to using you as a slap-for-hire?" Cherry asks with obvious amusement. There's Jesse twinkling in her blue eyes.. eyes with sight. They do not look too much unlike those of her brother's though Cherry, instead, focuses upon what she speaks to and/or observes. Jesse has more of a far-off look. It's sad. "It's done. I'm on shift again this Weds, roundabouts three til' nine. Come in at… say, seven. That's when they're really settled and grubby." Said with amusement as she cinches the apron at her pert waist. Then, she moves to the sink to give her hands a thorough wash.. fingernails too!
"You're wise… I can't help but wonder what brought you to Higsi of all places. Do you have connections here?"
—
"Or you're agreeing to help lure me to the diner so I can correct some ignorant men? I've missed doing that." She will grin, a hint of a dimple. "I will dress appropriately." In other words, in a dress that is certainly fashion forward for Higsi, and will shame the men.
"I threw a dart at a map." It's delivered completely straight-faced, regular toned. It may even be true. "Nope, none. My family is all easterly, or abroad."
—
"That sounds about right." Cherry concedes, drying her wrists and moving to join Quinn in earnest. Cherry's grin is slight too though, sadly, no dimples. "Sounds good, then. I could use all the help I could get."
A pause though… Cherry respects order and rank. The thought of such a tactic bowls her over, obviously. "That is brave." She admits, taking the bait and/or fib for face value. She has no suspicions. "I exhausted my bravery when I went to Hollywood. I made it into a few films.. no blockbusters. I was on my way there though until I heard from Jesse. Then I came home." Said simply.. as if she is already moving on. A sad little twinge though to her brow. "So.. ah… what would you recommend for a beginner? A bread?"
—
"Or crazy. Depends on who you ask. You say brave, my mother would say crazy. She doesn't understand at all." Because she can't know the whole story. "See, I could never have gone to Hollywood. That's brave." She couldn't risk her face on the big screen. Not until the Nazis are completely broken and finished, and can't haunt her anymore.
"Well, let's start here. What would you like to take home and brag about making?" There's her smile lingering again, as she looks at the other woman.
—
"One has the ability to be truly cruel in a place like Hollywood." Cherry admits, sneaking a glance at the baker. "I never could be.. it wasn't worth it. But you just say the right thing.. right by one's standards as a silver screen cutthroat but wrong by the one upon whom the words are being inflicted.. and you're suddenly ahead. I was able to tell my story for a little while.. say that I, a hill girl, could get there.. but now it's time to grow up." A shy little smile, flickering like a dying light. "Anyway, heh,"
Tucking her hair back, she adjusts her hair tie to be tighter. "My mother will have thought I was crazy, but she let me try." A twinge of pain.
".. how about turnovers?"
—
"It's more that I wouldn't want to be in pictures. I'd be worried about people nitpicking my looks or my voice or whatever." She could totally be cruel, she knows how to turn a tone, a phrase, a word. But she doesn't have to be that, here. She doesn't have to hide, or worry. Nazis are not looking for resistance fighters in Tennessee.
"Turnovers? What kind? We can do apple, or cherry, I have blueberries left.. or we could do something non-breakfast. Ham and cheese, or something?"
—
"They would, I'm afraid." Cherry admits, not wanting to beat around the bush. "I experienced it. It doesn't matter how elegant or classy you are.. someone will pick you apart." She blinks, "Though you… I think you would do well with the murder-mystery types. Those paced, dark, suspenseful films… you have the look of being able to keep your cards close to your chest behind a smile." Said completely without guile. Cherry isn't even looking at Quinn when she makes the assumption. "I was too emotional… good character actress. Lots of singing and dancing and cheesecake portraits." Said with a snort.
She giggles then, about to really be corny and bid for cherry… but instead: "Ham and cheese would be nice."
—
"And my self esteem is just not up to that." Quinn is completely fibbing about that, of course. She's completely confident in her own skin, at least usually. "Me? Murder mystery? The quiet dame in black who knows the answers and never spills? " there's a laugh. "Not me. I'm an open book." If only Cherry knew, right now, that Quinn was putting on an award winning performance.
Then there's a bright, happy smile. "Excellent choice." She will move to the large fridge, to pull out ham and two kinds of cheese. "See, this was going to be one of my new experiments. We can do it together!"