The waitress - the epitome of punky, bearing streaked hair, black eyeliner and so many piercing she could have been taken for a cyborg - scrunched a sour face.
“We don’t serve alcoholic beverages. And don’t tell me to make it snappy, or you just might be waiting past closing time for that trippio, Mr. Smart Aleck.”
“Who hired you?” Ryuu demanded, not breaking his monotonous pose.
“I don’t see why you care.” She sniped, metal bracelet jangling on one wrist. “Now - do ya want the coffee or not?”
“Fine. Triple Espresso, please. Just - hurry, if you would. I have to be somewhere in - now - nine minutes.”
“The coffee moves at its own speed. Don’t rush the coffee, man.” A lanky teen with what looked like an entire sheep on his head swayed over.
“Nigel, if you don’t stop coming to work like this, I’m going to shove that ridiculous wool hat over your face so hard it splits in two!” snapped Punk Girl. “Now get your rear end in gear and man the counter.” She leapt off her stool and flounced towards the back, where the aroma of ground coffee beans permeated the air, strong enough to be tangible.
“Whatever you say, Via..” Sheep Boy mumbled, and proceeded to slump at the counter, pose interchangeable with Ryuu’s. Then he perked up. His face, an overlong white oval that had never seen the sun, tilted towards his customer.
“What’s in the case? Because if it’s an animal I’m calling the Humane Society-”
Ryuu twitched imperceptibly, his scarred hands wrapping even tighter around the battered leather valise. The marks across his palms matched perfectly with the straps, as though a long history of clutching this package had left their scars.
“It’s not. It’s mine though.” He shifted, shrouding the suitcase in his dark, tattered coat, glowering under his hair. “And you won’t be taking it.”
The teenager - Nigel - jolted back, knocking into the partial wall between the preparation area and open space for customers. He trembled, from his tree-bark boots to his sheep-wool hat, lidded eyes flaring open to their full extent. The reaction would have been humorous if it hadn’t been for the expression of terror affixed to his face.