update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2024-02-03 21:10:06 -08:00
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@ -55,3 +55,55 @@ Wiping their hands on a towel hooked into the strings of their apron, Hasher nod
"Yes, that would be her," she said, smiling. "Well, thank you very much. Did she leave recently?"
They nodded towards the back door of the shop as they started to make their way back to the line of customers waiting for drinks. "Out back, out to Infinite Café, probably half an hour ago. Just peek in if you need anything!"
The two Odists bowed their thanks and carefully picked their way further over to the cafe side of the building, winding their way between tables until they reached the brick wall. There in the middle was a green, wooden door set into an arch, and above the arch "INFINITE CAFÉ" shone in tooth-aching pink neon.
The sim in which The Bean Cycle existed had a weather pattern tuned after somewhere in the northern hemisphere, so they had entered the shop sometime in late winter, where the air still had a bite to it and salt still stained the sidewalks out front from where the ice had been melted in the days prior. They had arrived late in the afternoon, the sun setting down along the street casting long shadows behind them.
When they stepped out into Infinite Café, though, it was the same bright, midsummer's noon as it always was there. The sun came from everywhere and nowhere, their shadows sat just beneath their feet. It was the perfect temperature — no matter who you were, no matter your preferences, it was always perfect — and it was as packed as ever. If one percent of the population of Infinite Café was missing, Slow Hours could not tell.
The sim was dead simple: it consisted of one, long road set into a torus. A truly enormous torus: when she looked up, she saw a bright thread directly above them where the road had curved up into an arch hanging in the heavens, and yet the road seemed perfectly flat as far as she could see.
Lining either side of the street were entrances to cafes. Cafes, coffee shops, doors leading out into libraries with coffee cards, alleyways leading out into sims where coffee was hawked from handcarts, dusty steps leading up into marketplaces where vendors boiled their coffee in their cezves in great vats of sand set over wood fires. Anywhere that served coffee to cladists that wanted was free to create an exit that lead out into Infinite Café, and over the two centuries of its existence, it had grown from a labyrinthine maze of buildings to the ring-road that it was today.
She had no clue how it worked, if it really was that big, but the sheer size of the System had been driven home quite effectively over the last few weeks, so she was hopeful that there were no tricks involved, no attempts to make it look bigger than it was.
She was hopeful that all of these people here on this relatively crowded street were real. She hoped they found coffee and friends and loved ones and long-lost selves.
A gentle touch to her shoulder brought her back to the present. She looked over to If I Dream, then followed her gaze go the center of the thoroughfare.
There, in the middle of the path, stood a skunk. She looked much like others in her clade, with white-striped black fur, tapered snout, cookie ears poking out from an unruly mane, and where she differed, it mostly came down to clothing. She wore a linen tunic in pale yellow, cinched around the waist with a leather belt, and a pair of loose, woolen trousers in a dusty brown. Her mane was tied back with a kerchief of some sort, a pastel triangle visible to them as she stood stock still and stared straight up to the arch above.
Slow Hours felt concern tugging at her cheeks, while a glance at If I Dream showed only curiosity.
"Shall we?" she asked.
If I Dream nodded.
Letting a crowd of joggers pass, the pair made their way up to the skunk so that Slow Hours could gently touch her elbow.
The reaction was far more extreme than expected as the skunk let out a shriek and skipped three or so meters away from them, nearly colliding with a couple walking hand in hand. She whirled, tail bristled out behind her and ears splayed to the sides. Her eyes were wide and breath coming in quick gasps.
Both Slow Hours and If I Dream took a pace back, startled.
In the span of three seconds, the skunk seemed to get her bearings and comprehend just who was standing in front of her. She visibly worked on mastering her breathing as she stood up straighter, brushing her paws anxiously down over her shirt. "Ah...I, ah...Slow Hours?"
She bowed slowly, deliberately, so as not to startle the skunk any further, and nodded. "Yes, and If I Dream." She held out the extra mocha. "We got you a coffee, What Right Have I. Would you like to join us?"
What Right Have I looked between the two anxiously, clutching at the hem of her tunic. "I...ah, do you...I mean, is there an occasion? Is there a place? I was...I mean, I had been in The Bean Cycle but the couch...oh, I am talking myself in circles..."
With that, she began to pace in an abbreviated line before them, alternating between scrubbing her paws together and straightening her already quite straight shirt.
Slow Hours looked to If I Dream for help, and the panther stepped forward silently and wrapped her arms around the skunk from behind.
At first, she thought this would be a prelude to them stepping from the sim together, or perhaps some affectionate bear hug, though this did not fit what she knew of their casual acquaintanceship.
Instead, though, If I Dream simply squeezed around the skunk and stood still. There was a squeak and a tense-looking squirm from What Right Have I at first, but in surprisingly short order, her breathing fell under her control and she slouched against her cocladist, looking as close to relaxed as Slow Hours had ever seen her.
*"What is this about?"* she asked If I Dream via sensorium message.
*"A hunch,"* the panther sent back. *"Apparently a correct one, for which I am glad. Sometimes compression helps, yes?"*
*"If you say so."*
"Are you alright, my dear?" If I Dream murmured loud enough for Slow Hours to hear as well. "Will you join us for coffee? It is not a demand, just an offer."