2019-07-01 - Let's Do Brunch

Monday morning is one of the least popular times of the week. Monday mid-morning at least gets more fans than Monday pre-dawn, though, and once you throw in brunch? Well, we're starting to at least pull even with the latter half of the week. And this particular Monday morning is shaping up to be the first properly warm day of the summer, the sun out and the sky unusually clear. So Vyv's main balcony is getting its first proper breaking-in.

To one side of the doors there's a table, an almost organic assemblage of black steel supporting irregular pieces of stone that come nearly together to form one hand-polished slice of a boulder, and atop this sits a bowl of strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries, a smaller bowl of freshly whipped cream beside it. A still-warm quiche sits on a trivet, so wholly unnecessary given the stone that it serves more as a tiny decorative pedestal. There are plates, silverware, glasses, a pitcher of mimosas, and an elegantly spare arrangement of calla lilies at different heights, arranged so their stems form one continuing curve high up and out from the small, round ceramic vase that holds them.

There are four chairs around the table, the same sort of black steel in much more rectilinear, white-cushioned forms. Like many things in his apartment, they have a modernist feeling to them, and harmonize well with the similar pair of chaises longues to the other side of the doors. Between those is a much smaller table of the same sort of stone as the larger, this one only two pieces. Plants have been placed strategically, and the view through and over the glass railing is superb.

The man himself is, however, not there. He's currently in the kitchen, drawing a just-baked tray of kouign amann from the oven and setting it on the counter to cool a little. It smells, frankly, amazing in there. He's gone summery in his garb today as well, or at least the Vyv version of summery: an ivory linen suit with a purple-gingham shirt and yellow silk knit tie, complemented by a pocket square of yellow silk with cheerful purple polka-dots, simple rosewood cufflinks and tie bar, a slim gold watch with a brown leather band, and brown leather monkstrap shoes.

He's also currently singing along half under his breath to 'Iine!' by Babymetal, which is playing quietly from his phone on the counter as he gets out a plate to arrange the pastries on, and there might be a subtle touch of rhythmic head movement here and there. Bets how many of those things change the second he gets an indication his guest's nearly there?

Hyacinth arrives as an event! Really who has time to spend making sure their makeup is going to wind up painted as nose art on a B-52 bomber and be this put together with the capris and the red and white spotted blouse, and matching scarf and nails. Let's not leave off the acrylic leg that has the morning glories resin cast in it on the vine. Damn artisans and their artificial limbs making the world seem less fancy.

The walk in might very well suggests she own s the place, and by the place one might get the feeling to her that means the whole damn city. In a sense she has some stake in that claim having some sort of say-so over the edifice and overall look of the downtown area as preserved as the flora she's wearing.

For as much as the click of heels march out the tune like an Armageddon clock the smile on her Revlon red glossed lips is genuine warmth, "Where is the nearly only competent man in Gray Harbor?"

The nice thing -- okay, one nice thing, at these prices there are several -- about these apartments is the part where one has to get allowed in, which means Vyv gets a few floors-worth of warning in which he can turn off and stow his phone and instruct the apartment to play brunch music instead. Apparently, that's Ella Fitzgerald singing Ain't Misbehavin', to start with. He also flips the lock on the door, so when Hyacinth Arrives, it's entirely up to her whether she knocks or walks on in, which is probably not an option many people are offered. And probably not a huge shock when she chooses the latter.

"What, only nearly?" he replies, setting a fourth kouign amann on the plate (the remainder are sitting on a cooling rack on the counter, now, the tray already soaking in the sink), and wipes his hands on a dishtowel before strolling over to greet her. She of course gets an appraising glance as he approaches, checking out today's look, but it's likely a good deal less unsettling for her than for some. First off, she's rather more likely to get a good verdict. And secondly, on the offchance she didn't, she'd probably just conclude he was wrong. As it is, there's a faint but also genuine smile before he leans in to properly exchange la bise at each cheek, and greets, "You look lovely. I've not seen the flowers before; new or just seasonal?"

Hyacinth lets herself in. While on the surface she absolutely appears as if she needs shit done for her Vyv knows that truth that she jut needs shit done. Stepping into the apartment she pauses, a slow smile approving in that way of appreciating solace in mid-morning suddenly gone right. And there's Ella there to greet them. Her eyes shift to the window taking note of the weather for now. Good, it'll hold. If it gets to raining they'll have to switch out to Miles Davis or Vince Guaraldi. Also strong choices.

When the question's put forth about 'nearly' that look is pure sunshine. "That smells like you missed me. Whiiiich is why I brought you good news. Only is now nearly only." She pauses and wrinkles her nose, "Dress code aside, good company has slowly been returning to Gray Harbor. I'll have to introduce you."

Looking down at the leg her expression animates a titch, "I'm working with someone in the process of treating poured acrylic like stained glass to build a bathtub. The idea struck me," She'll never admit to nearly tripping over the bush while pontificating into her phone. Nope. "So both new and seasonal, thank you for asking." Each cheek gets a smooch with approval rarely seen from the woman. "I also am bringing you more good news which I call: Pending judgement, the standard, and how we are going to watch you grossly exceed it." That's some pride in that smile right there. "While inspiring others to get off their ass and start trying." She pauses and her manicure flaps in a circle offering herself a seat, "I mean they're always 'trying' but my cousin found a way to make them put in a bit of effort."

If no one sees the potential dent to the dignity, it never happened. And if they did, they'll pretend they didn't if they know what's good for them. "Some of them are very trying," Vyv agrees, "...we'll be settling on the balcony, table or chaises is up to you. Mimosas are out there, but if you want water, coffee, or tea at present as well?" Instead of after, that is, since coffee and/or tea are liable to make an appearance at some point either way.

"So, dress code aside, mm? I suppose we can't have everything." he sighs, like a man who has long since resigned himself to the fact that people are going to just continue being disappointing. Resigned, but not accepted. "Yes, though, please do introduce me. I've met a couple interesting people, I suppose, but it's still a bit... sparse. And your other news sounds intriguing." No question as to whether he's going to exceed whatever standard is set. They have their own standards to meet, after all.

Hyacinth sits sweeping a hand at her capris even if it's not a skirt she walks out to the balcony and sits- yes there! ah! perfection. "Justin iiiiis a doll. He dressed the part when he needs to and is an actor and has not run his business into the ground. We /like/ him." The official We as in Picky Persons Anon. (the PPS). With a winning smile she purrs, the words, "He's not a dipshit. It's so very refreshing."

The hand flaps, "you'll enjoy it. Now, before the world falls the fuck apart." She pause dropping that f-bomb pinky out like a fucking lady should, "My something-something-ith cousin" sparle manicure gesturing in a circle indicating that there's math there on the relation and she's not bothering doing any of it, "Byron is having a city event. The bottom line is it's to get the businesses o the town to spruce up and look less like they're trying to attract derelict hobos like a bug zapper and more in the spirit of what these fine structures /should/ be. So! there's going to be a decorate your shop front to happen and I brought you ideas but in the end? I really feel this is your strong point and we can really help you lead the pack on this one as commonsense and good taste mandate in the natural order of things. Also they need something to aspire to. "

The Picky Person Society is, of course, an extremely exclusive group. Almost by definition. "Well, 'not a dipshit' is always a good start," Vyv says dryly, following on out with the plate of pastries. He sets it down beside the quiche, and gives it a tiny turn before letting go. They do look slightly better at that angle than the first one. It's subtle, but satisfying, at least to him. No request for other drinks means no other drinks come along; clearly he's perfectly happy to go with just the mimosas himself for the time being. "Justin the Actor, with an as-yet-unspecified business. Mm. All right, I'll await the introduction, then. New in town?" As in, even newer than he is? "And are we expecting the end of the world imminently? Because if so I may need to rearrange my to-do list. Less long-term planning, perhaps a half-step standards adjustment on swiping right."

The pitcher and glasses come off the table first, and he turns to hand them over to Hyacinth. "Pop those on the small table, would you, darling?" The one between the chaises. For his part, he starts preparing the plates; probably she would have been welcome to do her own, but the confluence of chef and host has him comfortable enough taking ownership of that. "I didn't know Thorne was your cousin. I suppose half the town is, though, really. What's odder is he's dating a woman I knew in high school." A moment of consideration, as he adds portions of the berries and cream. "She always used to be fairly competent and well-presented. The latter remains; the former remains to be seen." But he actually sounds as though he has some hope for that, which is something.

The plates are, unsurprisingly, artistically arranged, and he brings both over along with the napkins (cloth, of course) and silverware, offering one set of it all to her before he settles himself onto the other chaise with the second. "A city event. It has a theme, I suppose?" Because obviously his shop front is already leading the pack on the day-to-day. "And of course I'll be interested to see your ideas. Anything I don't end up using myself, perhaps we can bequeath to the needy and more or less deserving. Charity begins at work."

Byron's Business Beautification B- the last 'B' is not filled out on her folder, but she apparently has faith that the alliteration parade is still with merit. She stirs while he reads. "So! We did that charity dinner thing which... yeah." Yeaaah. "This is going to help us in a few ways. I mean... we have to live here so the view should be nice. We increase interest in the restoration bringing that vibrant small town downtown thing going on and we can absolutely do wonders for the property values. The other thing wit will do is encourage people to quite literally pick up their shit. Noooow," She looks around tiling her head with a judgmental squint. "I have some ideas for your place buuuut," Is she seriously going to talk shit about the shop??! "I really don't want to change it but I think there's things that can be added without trying to dominate the space. I DO want to make sure your shop is dominating the street soooo I was thinking we do some fun themes with the outdoor seating and the accents. This is your life's work. And when other people are doing renovations while I love... here? I don't want people to go 'oh, I've seen that'. You follow? "

She pauses flapping a hand. "Everything will be better but since everything's improving we need a new reason to make them look again so they can go oh yeah, still the best. This is what my shop wants to be...when it grows the fuck up."

Bureau? Blueprint? Brouhaha? Surely there's something apropos. Vyv sets his plate down and takes up the folder instead, opening it to study the contents; he looks up from it again when she gets to the last of the ways she sees this likely to help, arching a brow. "Are people literally leaving their shit in the street? I suppose I've been avoiding the right parts of town. That seems a thing the police ought to be keeping an eye on. Possibly a nose."

Is she seriously going to talk shit about the shop? Surely not, the shop is flawless. There's still a hint of a brow quirk remaining in response to the judgier qualities of the squint. Hey, he recognizes that look. He's seen mirrors. The rest of the explanation seems to fall within acceptable limits, however. "Mn." A moment of consideration, flipping through the papers some more. "Outdoor seating theming and external decor seem like necessities for any reasonable festival," he agrees, "Internal is of course a trickier beast. Blatant festivity isn't a natural bedfellow with... balance." Or anything even approaching sleekness or minimalism! "I've no doubt we'll find the key, however." So apparently yes, she's part of this now.

Hyacinth pauses and her nose wrinkles, "Well those three buildings that got ruined in the explosion are a bit rubbely and the nearby buildings suffered in inventory losses and cleanliness from the shock waves, so... it might be a step up in some cases if they did."

She waits for him to process all of that because anyone outside of their tiny picky cadre might have a cheese spreader aimed at their face and be told 'choose your next words carefully if you value your skin care regimen'. When he gets tot eh interior being 'trickier' she almost lights up . Is there the vague sound of an electric humm? No but there easily could be. "Yes! And I don't want to change that so!" SHe digs around in her attache case and pulls out her tablet that clicks on with a poke of her nail and pulls out a spool of what looks like plastic tubing? "Being that you've gone streamlined and monochrome- And bless you for that- I'm thinking this. Costume grade thin light tubing. Runs off a small, and discrete, 9-volt battery pack we can putty mount that will go away after the festival. Does not ruin surfaces. But we don't have to touch a thing inside but we can rock out some underlighting so it's not screwing with the lines of her walls."

She pulls up the picture of- she did recon n the shop look at that! but the colours of the parade reflecting in the under glow of shelves, counter, and the interior tables. "We can do this outside too and while it'll be sunny and warmer if we use a table with the open mesh the light can tint the reflection off the chrome bits. I'm pretty excited about it." She really is positively in love with the wor-...her ideas to improve the world without taking a hammer to something she loves.

There is always the danger of cheese spreader. But passing the initial screening does lessen it considerably, and strongly lower the odds of the choice of that spade-shaped kind with the sharp slot near the base, you know the one, and an ensuing distaste for pork scratchings on either or both sides.

"That pizza place wasn't winning any awards for style or preservation in any case," Vyv remarks, "Rubble suits it. Shame about the damage to some of the others, but I'm quite sure it will get dealt with." If for no other reason than the knowledge that Hyacinth is likely on the case. And the degree of lighting up when he's mentioned the interior actually makes him blink, watching her curiously as she digs in her case. The tubing gets a faint quirk of a brow, and he waits for things to become clear.

When they do, the expression goes more thoughtful. "Mm." He leans in to take a better look at her mockup, which at the very least gets an appreciative look for its sheer existence. One does appreciate the dedication to doing things properly if at all. "Do we know for certain what the colours of the festival are to be?" he asks; if it's in the folder it must be on a page he hadn't reached yet. "We might have to adjust the interior chair selection, depending, but I do like the idea of using light."

Hyacinth smiles resplendent and triumphant. "Not yet, however it's Byron's baby. He has excellent sense and I have excellent taste so if it's something off putting I'll have him change it." And with the way Hya whips glimmer around like a lion tamer when she wants something there is little doubt of her being incredibly convincing. "You have preferences? I'm honestly thinking cyan. It's summery. Doesn't make things look burnt and remind them of the explosion and fire damage like red or orange. " She squints considering this, "I'm rather fond of that open summer sky kind of feel. Really draws it down and opens up the space."

"He's aiming for-- what, early to mid fall?" Vyv says, glancing down to the folder again. "I suppose it depends somewhat on the exact thrust of the theming. But something that will stand out against the town's colours at that time without clashing, of course, and with a bit of contrast. Cyan would pop against fall foliage, though it's easy for it to be harsh. I'd also not lean toward red and orange as main colours, though more because of trees, really. Accents, maybe, it would tie things together and they're complmentary, or close, with cyan if that's used, but not main colours. No point blending in unless it's a foliage festival." He reaches over to pour himself a drink, and one for her as well while he's at it. No point skipping that, either!

Hyacinth considers a few things and reaches into her satchel again and pulls out a standard white envelope, unglued, and hands it to him with all the passive flourish an assistant presents a gameshow host their answer cards with. Inside there are 3 fabric swatches. God could the woman look more pleased with herself? Just you wait! "The dupioni silk, so you can have a tie and square made should you elect to, and the others that will suffice as I was thinking if you wanted to have a custom chef coat done for the event for when you are baking the world at 350* you can stay ahead of trend." Her nose wrinkles with that thousand watt smile. "What's a bestie for? So if it switches off this and out to cerulean I'll bring new swatches. This work?"

Vyv takes a drink, then set it back down and accepts the envelope with a curiously lifted eyebrow. A peek inside, and a very soft breath of a laugh. The silk gets a thumb slid across its slubs, a slight tilt to see what iridescence this one might have; the regard is appreciative. "Yes, that could definitely make for a pleasing tie or square," he agrees. Not both at the same time, though; always coordinate, never match! Well, unless they're both white. There's always an exception somewhere, and of course white tie is always exceptional.

Would he wear whites that weren't in fact the traditional white? Hard to say, but he does give that fabric consideration as well, and her brilliant smile gets a much smaller one in return. He doesn't really do thousand watt, but this one does crinkle his eyes the proper way, and they're fairly bright. "Thank you. If it does switch, yes, I'd quite like to see your cerulean swatches." A tiny pause. "Particularly as it would give me an excuse to say 'cerulean swatches' again. That's rather pleasing."

He sets the envelope down gently on the little table between them, the corner carefully tucked under the edge of the pitcher to ensure it won't get blown away, and picks up his plate to eat a bit. "What are you planning for yourself for it?"

Hyacinth hmmms as that's an excellent question, "Well the more I think about it I got this idea to do an prosthetic that is all clear acrylic and is top and bottom lit like an ice sculpture but then I thought, eh, save that for the park lighting ceremony in December for the Christmas, Chaunnakah, Yule, Whatever- celebration thing. Soooo..." Those long, done up lashes squint together and her expression becomes nigh problematic. "So I don't know yet. But only yet. Maybe I'll relight the clear one I have with the light up frosted bones and go all white and cyan, nee cerulean, to match." Her nose wrinkles up thoughtfully. "The truth is I've been worried more about the buildings and your place than my own to-do. It'll be fine I'm sure and if someone says something I can have the committee ordinance their lawn for improper grooming to city code." Now she looks pleased.

"If only we could have people fined for improper grooming to city code. Think what it could do for city beautification." Vyv eats a small bite of quiche, head tilting slightly as though something's just occurred to him, "...you did say ordinance, not ordnance, yes? Exploding their lawn sounds satisfying but possibly counter-productive." Also petty, but he's perfectly on board with that part. There has to be some consequence to unwarranted criticisms! From anyone else. "But I'm quite sure you're right. It'll be fine. " He glances fleetingly at today's prosthetic, adding, "I look forward to seeing both, regardless. The ice sculpture concept does sound more suited to winter, though, yes. I expect it'll be stunning." A pause the length of another bite. "When do you think Mr. Thorne will be pinning down more details?"

Hyacinth warms a smile to her bestie and flaps a hand in amusement, "Byron? Always? The man lives and dies by the details. We can them later today and I'm sure everything will be fine come fall. " Her foot bounces with thoughtful consideration, "Just in case though, let's go over contingency plans to protect your building from calamity. We can do that tomorrow though. This morning is for brunch in excellent company." Which is Hya for:why don't I have these details yet!? Ignore that, focus on the good company and the topic we know. Damn. The drink is good though and it's damn good to have allies against mediocrity.