theattic | THE SANDBOX

"Tricksy? They're downright homicidal!"

But even as he said it, he grinned with a sort of manic excitement. JW was a thrill-seeker even if he acted like a work-chained fuddy duddy.

The baker leaned back and finished the bite he was working on before opening his mouth and pointing to the missing tooth on his right, lower side.

"Fell down a flight of stairs."

And then he grinned at Krem as if he'd just delivered the most enthralling story ever.

Krem blinked, having not expected that, though he smiles right back. "So you lost a fight with the stairs. Sounds like a tough battle. You said the other one wasn't from a fight, you'll have to tell me how you lost it too."

He could be sassy right back, JW, be careful.

"Ah ah!" He waved a finger. "I didn't say anything about where these suckers went. I didn't even tell you how I fell down the stairs. But what I did say is, the story's not free."

"Alright, what's the price then." He sits up a little, elbow on the table, ready to strike a bargain. Krem isn't afraid of a little gamble, and he's certainly not below teasing, so he's all ready for this chase.

"It's yours to name."

JW made a big show of scooting his chair around so that he could look at his own menu board. And honestly he didn't actually spend a lot of time looking at it unless he was adjusting prices to compensate for ingredients and such.

"Hmm...that's a no-brainer. I want two chocolate brownies."

Edited 2016-01-30 00:29 (UTC)

"So much for your diet, but sure. I'll cough up." He glances at the menu himself, figuring out the change, and slips a hand in his pocket for his wallet yet again.

He was just about to comment on how dinner would be more filling, but after asking him if he wanted company on his walks, he thinks dinner is for another day. One where he hasn't used all his flirting points up in one go.

"It doesn't count if someone else buys it. Them's the rules." He took Krem's money and went and bought himself one of his own damn brownies before sitting back down and offering him one of the two. Sharing! "To be honest, I think these are my best, but not a lotta people pick 'em. I guess they figure they've had one brownie they've had 'em all."

"I wasn't aware there were rules like that with diets. Is it part of a program?" He grins, though admittedly he's again surprised when JW shares, considering the brownie. He didn't eat a lot of sweets, and he had to work later, he wasn't like The Iron Bull, knocking back all the cupcakes in the world every morning. But...he did at least want to try it.

When he takes a bite, it's moist, and decadent, and he could definitely say that he's in love with JW's brownies, possibly more than he is with the man's cinnamon twists right out of the oven. "This is sin...do you have that bottled up somewhere in the back? Can't imagine how much you'd have to put in a bowl to make it taste this good though..."

"I keep telling you I'm a god," he said around his own mouthful. But then it was story time. "Alright, so, when a friend of mine and I were kids, we were pretty poor so one thing we'd do is wait and see if folks dropped off old sofas or whatever on the curb and then go gut them in search of hidden money or anything else we can sell. We were't the only ones with this idea so it was a real lions and hyenas kind of deal. I used to be a good three feet shorter than this if you can believe it."

He paused and took another bite of brownie.

"So when we heard our neighbor was going to dump their sofa soon we got this fantastic idea. They were going to the store that day to get the new sofa. So we thought, hey, why don't we just STEAL the old one and save them the trouble of hauling it off. Naturally we tried to fit it through the window and down a third story fire escape."

Krem listened, though he hadn't ever stolen to keep himself fed, his fathers work did well enough to keep what they needed to survive on the table, even if it wasn't much. But he listens, and was surprised at the imagination on him, wondering how much someone really hid in a sofa after they'd been tossed. "i can't imagine it was such an illustrious business, but..." He can't help but cover his mouth as he describes attempting to sneak it out of a third story window.

"Even now I can see a sofa crushing you. How would you even get it out the window? Let alone down the stairs."

JW wheezed out a little laugh at his own expense. "My teenage years are pretty hazy to tell you the truth. BUt you know, for a couple of stoned kids we did a pretty good job getting that sofa almost to the second story. One of us realized we could have just gutted it while we were in their apartment. Horas twisted his foot and let go of the sofa. I rode it the rest of the way down. And tada!"

He poked the very tip of is tongue through the gap in his teeth.

Edited 2016-01-30 01:32 (UTC)

"The real story behind the fight with the staircase, I got it." Though admittedly he can see JW a stoner, wondering if he still did some work with special brownies or not. They would definitely sell if they all tasted like this anyways.

"It's a wonder you only lost a tooth. I've been trampled before by something much smaller than a sofa and I practically broke my arm."

"What can I say? I'm resilient!"

He wiped his hands off on his apron again and thatched his fingers together on the table.

"So, about that sewing of yours. Ever make a pair of slacks before?"

"A god, yes. You've told me," He smiles and leans back in his chair, thinking on it a moment. He wasn't sure he'd ever made pants like he might want, but...

"I've made shorts before. Underwear. Though can't say I've made pants. I'm sure I could get a pattern for it though, can't be too hard. All sewing is, is putting the pieces together and stitching. Kind of relaxing really, if you're not doing it to make a living."

JW turned again in his seat to hike up a leg and show Krem how his hem never quite hit his shoes. Hell, they hardly covered the ends of his socks.

"Being immortal means it's hard to find a good Big and Tall shop. How would you feel about a trade? I'll bake anything you want."

"Looks like you could use a pair that fit. Chief has the same problem, though he's taller and much bigger than you. I figure they make the longer pants for the big guys. You get a pair that fit in length, you might be swimming in them."

Though, what he'd want to trade...he isn't sure. He wasn't big on sweets as he said. He swallows, trying to figure out what he can ask for, but...perhaps he'll have the courage some other day. "I'll think on what I want, though I'll need your measurements. Can't just eyeball your ass and come up with the right dimensions."

JW snorted again. What ass? "Just tell me what to measure and I'll give you the numbers. And if you can't think of anything you'd like to eat, I'm not a bad carpenter."

Look at that, a free James Fact!

"Just your waist and inseam. Though you might have trouble doing that one yourself..." He isn't offering, no. He's still trying to convince himself he's sitting at a table at ass in the morning, talking about him and flirting every so often.

"And maybe add an inch or two to the inseam so if it's a little off, I can hem them down. It's easier that way." Though he can't think of asking for a chair for pants was fair. the materials didn't cost the same. "Carpentry is a bit more work than tailoring. Can't say that's entirely fair to trade."

"Hmmm," he couldn't really argue with the guy. "I can carve storefront signs, trinkets, whistles, little things like that if it makes you feel better."

He tugged a pen out of the pocket on his apron along with a napkin and jotted down what he told him to measure.

"We'll figure something out."

"You even have a measuring tape?" Because not everyone had a long roll like he'd need. Sure, the metal ones were common, but a clothe one wasn't something most people had laying around their homes. "I suppose I could bring one by if you didn't. It isn't so much trouble. What kind of material did you want anyways?"

"At home, yeah. Woodworking."

Once he'd written down the instructions, he tucked the pen and napkin away. He'd chipped a little hole in the personal mythos he'd been building up but he didn't think Krem would care too much. He could tell he didn't buy it even for a second. The most he usually got of his stories was folks thinking he was some kind of dryad or forest spirit come to work in the land of concrete and wires.

He abused it when he could. People were scared of the fair folk and the more folks afraid of him the better. Let them hate so long as they fear.

"Come back tomorrow and I might tell you about the other tooth."

Krem glanced at his phone, pulling it out of his pocket and sighed, an hour sure went by fast. "I'm not sure I can the same time, late nights and early mornings don't leave much room for sleep, but if I have time, I will." He'll stand, finishing off his brownie and nod towards the counter.

"Need the chief's order though, or I'll get more than a tease or two."

"Don't worry, I'll be here." He gestured to the bakery. "Don't have anywhere else to go. Hey, here--"

He stood and moved to the counter were a little tray of business cards sat. The pen came out again and he jotted something on the back of one before handing it over.

"Don't worry, I won't be tracking you like you're a tagged jungle animal."

For a moment Krem was confused, taking the card and glancing down at it while JW talked. His mouth went a little dry when he realized the man had written his phone number on it. "Texting okay? I know some people don't have unlimited plans." Not that he was going to text him a bunch, perhaps a little, but...it was a thing he wanted to ask just in case he felt the need to text the man.

He pulls out his phone and enters in the number in his contacts, pausing as he entered the name, "JW...What's that stand for anyway?"

"Go easy on the weekdays. Unlimited on the weekends."

With their strange new ritual complete, JW started to prepare things for his other customers. The ones he wasn't actively testing the waters with.

"Just Wonderful," he said with his back to Krem and the biggest, shittiest grin. It was all he could do to keep from imploding from laughing at his own dumb joke.

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