2022-06-19 - Pride Day at the HOPE Community Centre

Nor are Mrs Donahue's first graders the only members of the community to have had a party: Una Irving's not the most out-and-proud of the Gray Harbor community, but Pride is Pride (and Love is Love), and she's here to wave her metaphorical flag. Her dress is 50s style, made out of a scalloped cotton in purple, black, white and grey, and she's pinned her hair up into a victory roll, just because she can.

Her real contribution to the afternoon's events is in the form of baked goods, from the return of the geoduck-- well, no: this time they are definitely just dicks-- choux, filled with rainbow cream (these are kept out of the way of younger attendees) to rainbow heart cookies that come in half a dozen or more colour combinations, ready to represent anyone and everyone. The redhead sets out her offerings happily, pausing to chat briefly-- if warmly-- with a few familiar faces as they pass.

Most sociable person in the world she is not, but that's no matter: she's here, and today is going to be a Good Day.

Pride is Pride and Love is Love and like Ariadne would miss a chance to celebrate these things!

As such, there's the older redhead wandering into the building on the lookout for familiar faces. She expects a few, at least, and isn't disappointed. "Una!" Two-tone singong, the iteration of the name, as the barista makes her way towards the collection of baked good and baker herself. Comfort was the name of the game for Ariadne today: a skater skirt in a patterning of magenta, lavender, and royal blue hearts across matte black swishes at her knees. Black sneakers with gradient-dyed laces in this same color scheme and a black camisole under a light-weight lavender-hued drawstring sweatshirt otherwise. Her hair is braided down into pigtails with its usual riot of color on display. At her neck, an orca diadem in seashell (literally seashell) pink and lustrous white hangs on a golden chain. Cat's-eye liner makes her eyes bright and merrily contrasted.

"Everything looks amazing as always! I brought a case or two of sparkling water in all the colors and all the flavors," the barista shares and thumbs over her shoulder towards the drinks table. "And a few bottles of food dye. A drop in your drink and bam, it's whatever color you want. I thought about layered Jello shots, but we've got kids floating around, so." A shrug. Let us not get the second graders drunk accidentally, right?

Una glances up from her fussing and positively beams at Ariadne. "Look at you!" she enthuses, cheerfully. "Hi, Ari. That is why the, uh, geoducks aren't fully out on public display. I couldn't resist, but also--" Children. "The water's a good idea, though, and the colouring. Everyone likes a good bit of colour, right?"

The younger of the two redheads steps away from the table of treats and adds, "I love seeing the kids get involved. There's something-- I guess it's just knowing that the kids get to see it, right? And maybe there's one or two in there who will remember, as they grow up, and feel a little less alone. Small things. Happy Pride, Ari."

A chime of giggling. "Geoducks, aw yiss," Ariadne enthuses in an undertone. She's still quite pleased at enabling this particular line of baked creativity. "I'll certainly have one while I'm here and I'll eat it in a manner most polite and indicative of a cookie and nothing else. That way, if any kiddo asks, it's just a cookie -- though hopefully the parents are keeping half an eye on them." Her gaze roves the immediate surroundings. Given her working environment, the barista knows it's about...fifty-fifty if the kids are actually being policed.

"But yes, seeing these demonstrations and open, accepted displays of self, yes: hyper-critical as far as I'm concerned. Like, I saw this little dude in a tutu and a tiara and I've never seen such a smiley kiddo. He was dimpling for days," Ariadne shares with a grin. "I love it. Happy Pride to you, m'am!" Arms are thrown open wide in case Una would like a hug.

Just a cookie, right. Una's not got dimples to put on display, but her amused little smile is close enough: she's pleased. "Okay, tutu and tiara kid-- I'm going to have to find him. I love that."

Does Una want a hug? Yes, apparently she does: look at her go, leaning in to embrace her friend with even an acceptable amount of return arm and a gentle squeeze. If there's anything that can be said about changes in the younger redhead in recent months, that's certainly at the forefront of them. Not always hugs, but sometimes hugs, and maybe even, now, more often than not.

Pulling back, she adds, "I have high hopes for the next generations. If we can manage this much, even in a town like this... well, it's a start. Have you run into anyone else?"

Secretly, Ariadne is quite pleased for the returned hug. Maybe she's had a little bit of a goal over the last few months involving bringing the younger redhead out of her shell and this is little steps and a big win. Light perfume wreathing the barista scents of orange blossom, jasmine, golden vanilla, and sandalwood oud, nothing overmuch but entirely pleasant nonetheless.

"Hell yes. Showing the kiddos nice and early how love is love? It's sowing the seeds for a better future." The barista then turns and tilts her head towards a pairing over at one of the booths. "That's Jan and James, some of my regulars at the coffee shop. I knew James was gay, but I hadn't met his partner yet. They're just wonderful people, Una, seriously, they're the kindest tippers on the planet. I royally messed up James' drink one day and he seriously minced over to ask me about it and I haven't been treated more politely in my life about putting in pomegranate syrup instead of raspberry syrup in a mocha before. What about you? I figure people will start filtering in here over the next few hours."

Ariadne smells good. Una is not weird about it, promise, but don't think she doesn't enjoy it just for a moment.

She turns her head to follow Ariadne's direction towards the couple in question, and grins. "Pomegranate instead of raspberry? You monster," she teases, though that's at least in part because she has a longstanding disapproval of flavours in coffee because that's just gross, okay? Coffee needs no flavours. "That's so lovely, though. Both how they treat you, and also, that you got to see them out of work context and just... as they are. I've seen a few people. Della and Jules should be-- well. It depends on the kittens, of course."

Has she mentioned the kittens? Have any of them?

"I am, in fact, the absolute worst," the barista in question agrees with another grin and laugh. She lingers next to Una, watching Jan and James across the room with the professional fondness of a retail worker's appreciation for a favored customer -- set of customers, rather.

But how Una recaptures her attention with her comment.

Cue Ariadne squeak. "WHAT. Kittens? Okay, no, fess, right now." A pause and she tilts her head without losing eye contact, her grin becoming dubious. "...are these kittens with too many teeth, gal-pal...?"

"The absolute worst," reiterates Una, idly, and maybe that's to forestall her inevitable response to the squeak, and the dubiousness of that grin, and, okay, her own faint blush.

"Nooooo, they have the normal amount of teeth," she promises, though there is a distinct but to that statement, the kind that suggests all is not entirely above board with these kittens, no matter how adorable they (almost certainly) are. She turns brown eyes towards the other woman, a little guilty.

"They may, uh, have been rescued, though."

Trust the barista to catch the light pinking. One can see her attention zero in on it like a bird of prey.

"Rescuing an animal -- animals? -- is wonderful, soooooooo...what's funny about them being rescued?" Ariadne then asks with a growing smile. Oh yes, she's curious as hell now. The kittens have the normal number of teeth, apparently, but that little something else? Now she simply must know.

Jules shows up with another tray of baked goods, Una's little helper: these are rainbow-sprinkled cupcakes. She admittedly doesn't own much in the way of Pride-themed clothing; the closest it comes is a red-and-white striped tank top, along with peacock-feather earrings that nearly brush her shoulders. Once she arranges the cupcakes, Jules drifts over to her friends, one of her own in hand.

"It's Della's fault," she chimes right in.

Look at Una. Look at Una blush.

Sheepishly, she turns her attention from Ariadne towards Jules, her housemate getting a quick, awkward smile, one that might be happier if she weren't the one admitting the awful(?) truth.

Deep breath. "Uh, well, they were going to die. Burning, fiery, awful death. In, um..."

Another breath.

Tiny voice: "Pompeii?"

Trust Ariadne to immediately zero in on Jules now, arriving with her cupcakes and delightful earrings. These immediately earn Jules the compliment: "Ooh, those earrings are just excellent, Jules, I'm a little jealous. I should find me a similar pair. But why am I not surprised to hear it's Della's fault?" Her grin is friendly as is the tease as she watches the cupcakes get set down at the food table. "I've been hearing little inklings on and off about some sort of pet from Della over the last few weeks..."

Una then explains the interesting part of the kittens. Watch barista brows nearly fly off her forehead. "Whoa." Blink-blink. "I heard Pompeii, yes? The...ancient city buried by pyroclastic ash way back when? Y'all. Is this a Door incident?" she then asks, brows still hiked high as she looks between Jules and Una.

"Yeah," Jules affirms, sounding more resigned than pleased, compliment notwithstanding. She does fix a smile on Ariadne for it, though. "Della coaxed them into the kitchen." She starts peeling the paper away from her cupcake, doing her best to keep the little rainbow sprinkles from falling to the floor. "I'm not sure it's the smartest thing -- can't wait for the blow-back -- but it's done now."

She glances at Una to judge her reaction, taking the time to bite into the cupcake. Buttercream frosting galore; a dream for someone with a sweet-tooth. "They're pretty adorable. Two of them, boy and a girl."

"We-- the three of us, plus Ravn-- ended up in Pompeii," Una confirms, with a nod. "And we were fine. Nearly caused a riot, but fine. But-- the Door didn't close when we got out. It stayed open. Until..." Her swallow is a little thicker; a little heavier. "The End."

She lets that hang for a moment, glancing briefly at Jules, then back at Ariadne. "And then there were kittens. Della rescued them. She had to. And we had been talking about getting some, so..." Digging into the pocket (of course she made a dress with pockets) she pulls out her phone, swiping through until she finds an appropriate photo to show to Ariadne.

"So now we have kittens. And they are adorable."

"Ohhhhhhhhh!"

Look, it's kittens, it's impossible not to squee. Ariadne lets her momentarily-clasped hands drop to settle at her bellybutton and half-smiles, still that little bit dubious as she tends to be involving all things Veil-related.

"I...guess nothing might happen? They're kittens but not Veil kittens. I'm reminded me of bringing back bread and cheese and wine from Paris, Jules," the barista notes, glancing at the woman. "Real place, real objects, nothing funny. Unless this was Veil Pompeii....? And not the real Pompeii...?" She seems to want to stay well away from the concept of 'The End'. Evidence of great suffering exists now; no need to linger on it during a day such as this.

The photo is adorable, but Jules isn't inclined to shift and hover so she can look too. She concentrates on the cupcake instead and does not talk with her mouth full.

"The bread and cheese weren't living creatures," she points out in due time.

"They seem like ordinary enough kittens," admits Una, frowning. "Though, granted, I don't know a lot about kittens in general. I have to assume it was real Pompeii, and not some Veil facsimile... the way a lot of places, at the moment, are real." She glances down at her phone to study the photo again, face both softening in the sight of it and also twisting, ever so slightly. It's a challenge.

"I don't know. I mean, either way: they're ours now. So if something bad happens as a result... we're just going to have to deal with it. I couldn't lose them, now. Athena and Hephaestus."

Because, sure. Given Greek names to Roman kittens.

"Point." Ariadne nods in Jules' direction. Living creatures, bread and cheese are not. She reaches for one of the cupcakes nonetheless because really, they look amazing, and she can take Sam for a run later to burn off the buttercream frosting and geoduck cookie (cookies, maybe) she'll enjoy while present.

The fact of the kittens being named is enough to make the redhead's smile reappear. "Hey, good names, I approve." As one might when named in a similar if less godly vein. "I mean, you named them, you're keeping them now, as the saying goes. I don't...think anything bad is going to come of having them? But I'm not somebody with a PhD in applied astrophysics involving temporal branches or anything like that....though I actually do know of people. Sort of know people. From college. I can ask?"

Una eschews the cupcakes for the sake of one of the non-geoduck cookies: she picks one in similar hues to her own dress, and nibbles around the edges as she considers with Ariadne has to say. "Temporal branches," she repeats. "Well. At least that trip wasn't in to the actual future. The kittens are just... catapulted forward. It'll be fine."

She shakes her head, and repeats, "No, it'll be fine. I'm sure it'll be fine. I don't think we need to bother your friends about this. It's just kittens. And they're great names, even if Jules doesn't wholly agree."

A smile, then, for her housemate.

"You brought back the dick charm, didn't you?" Jules asks of her housemate, only to remember that there's children about after the fact. "Oops. Um. Yeah. Ravn wanted to give it to Itzhak," she explains for Ariadne's sake. "Anyway, that seems more in keeping with the Doors we've been experiencing lately. But we haven't brought a person back before -- Millie just visited."

The names just make her roll her eyes, though. The latter, to be specific. "Hephaestus sounds like a disease."

As for the mention of forward-jumping time travel -- Jules has a cupcake to busy herself with.

Jules ends up making the barista chortle. It's entirely un-helped: the dick charm sets the ball rolling and the commentary about the male kitten's name is the icing on the cake. Well, cupcake. She's gone and wiggled hard enough while snorting into the buttercream to smear some up onto her cheek.

"Aw, damnit," she mumbles under her breath while she hunts out a napkin. Thank god: no need to wear the food. This minor catastrophe averted, she glances between Jules and Una. "Believe me when I say my friend is not going to flinch about explaining temporal branches again. He'd be thrilled. He's a big damn geek and I love him, even if I have to remind him in mid-explanation to use smaller words, please. Academic types," she nods sagely, accounting for herself by her little self-effacing smirk. "I might shoot him an email out of my own idle curiosity. But now, wait, somebody explain to me this charm. I'm not even surprised for a second it's meant for Itzhak, but somebody explain it."

Ariadne's chortle makes Una let out a blurt of laughter that sends a few crumbs flying, but she's otherwise admirably composed: about the kitten's name, about the winged dicks, about the barista's so-delightful reaction. "I mean," she says, after a moment, "I wouldn't say no to hearing it, if you did. It's-- interesting. As a concept. Hang on--"

Time to get the phone out again and to hunt down a picture that is both like and probably very unlike the item in question-- in that the photo she's found is of an item that is nearly two thousand years old, as opposed to the one brought back, which is... well, brand new. "Like this," she says, offering her phone out again. "Ravn's idea." She's blushing, ever so slightly, but that's probably just because, well, dick joke. Physical dick joke.

Blushing means Della shows up, smiling, streaks of temporary color in her dark hair and wearing not rainbows but an old, well-worn Indigo Girls tee. There's a bit of icing on her cheek, but no visible source, just a sparkling drink in her hand. "Hel-lo." Pause. "Showing off dicks again?" this with a teasing, sideways smile. All the smiles.

Ooh, Una said hang on. Ariadne does as such, lingering with easy showing distance of the phone sure to reveal this charm meant for Itzhak. Once revealed?

She laughs like a fiend, outright. "That...is amazing." -- and it is, one of those historical amusements which will never cease to entice a grin out of her.

And then, Della, causing more laughter from the redhead with the heart-spattered skater skirt. "You know it," she says, falling easily into the vein of teasing. Looks like 'Make Una Blush' is on in earnest now. "What is it even for anyways, if it's a charm? Good luck? Happy hearth and home?" Trust the academic types to at least bring a little decorum to this kind of conversation.

But only a little. "Della, there's something on your face," Ariadne notes blithely.

"Good'n'Plenty," Della plays along, only a little wickedly.

But then, "Hm?" It can't be a spider, not with that reaction. She dabs at her forehead, peering upward as if she could actually see, then just leans so her face is accessible: "Would you...?" Ariadne, or one of the others who might have a napkin. While she's at it, "Any Sam news?"

Una turns her head so that she can grin at Della, wiggling her fingers at the other woman (the fingers not holding her partly-nibbled cookie). "Showing off dicks again," she confirms, letting Ariadne do the honours of face cleaning. Besides, she has important information to relate: "It's known as a Fascinus. I had to look it up-- Ravn was the one who knew about them. They're, um, the embodiment of the divine phallus."

Ah, yes, the divine penis. Go on, Una. (Blush a little more.)

"I think they're supposed to be protective charms. Apparently dicks are very protective?"

Now she's giggling.

“Divine phallus,” Jules repeats dryly. “Of course it is.” Cue eye roll, though she’s grinning too.

At least Ariadne doesn't lick the napkin before she goes to remove the frosting? Thanks, mom. "Just some frosting," she still reports to Della as she gently scrub-scrubs with the napkin. Her process wiggles about as she laughs more too, taken aback and still amused by the identification as well as use of the charm.

"A Fascinus. The things I learn," murmurs the musing before she pulls back the napkin. "Alright, you're spared from frosting, Della." Safe. Napkin is tossed and the barista returns to her own cupcake, this missing only one bite for reasons of laughter. "Though Sam news: none recently. He's a very good boy, though I'm sure he'd want to tell you of how he chased those stupid seagulls away from the dead flounder carcass before rolling on it before I could catch him." How her eyes roll as well. "Dogs. He got a good bath and spent twenty minutes blistering around the apartment in the wet zoomies like a goddamn furry lunatic, but he also passed out and slept the rest of the day. I'm sure he was pleased with himself," she tells Della with fond grin for the Windhound. "Though..."

An eyebrow for Della. "I hear there are kittens? Whose names apparently sound questionable."

Della chants, "The di-vine phal-lus~~~' so very solemnly on cue. She's done this before. To Ariadne, even as she holds otherwise still, "'There can be only one!' -- Thank you."

She straightens, stretches -- looks shocked. "Rolling in a... flounder as in fish?" Her face screws up and she's wincing and... well, she'll offer to pet Sam next time she sees him anyway. If only because he's clean now, and the grin is certainly fond.

Of course, the cats... 'Questionable' earns a dry, even pointed look at Jules. Primly, "Athena's also Xena for short. And Theena. And Heppy-aka-Gabriel... well. They're darling. Especially now that they've had their needs met by the vet," if Ariadne knows what she means.

"Oh Sam," says Una, with the absolute affection of an auntie who is indulgent to the point of excess, but also... "I mean, that's demonstrably adorable, but I can see how it would also be less than fun."

She takes another nibble of her cookie, now, and smooths out the skirts of her dress. "They both have half a dozen names, it's a wonder they know how to respond to anything. Athena's very much Della's girl, but... Phesty, he's my boy." Look at those starry eyes: just look at them.

Jules just grins, because dogs, man.

“Gabriel? How does that even come out of Hepatitis-Heffy? He’s a cute little muffin saddled with a horrible name,” Jules opines. “I still think we should call him Fleabag or Little Eff-er.”

It’s all very affectionate.

"So...Haephestus is also Heffy, Fleabag, Little Eff-er, and Gabriel. Athena is Theena, Xena, and surely a few more things soon to be tacked on there. Adorable little creatures inevitably earn their invectives one way or another. I call Sam a furry little asshole on a regular basis, but he's never offended if I do it with a 'good boy' voice. It's one of those treats of owning a dog: your vocal tone matters. I can also tell him that if he takes off with my sock one more time, I'm dipping him in Nair, but all he does is wag his tail because I say it nicely."

One can surely imagine how sugary-sweet the barista can get.

But she's being hailed by James from across the room with a twiddly-fingered wave and twiddly-fingers back. "One sec, I'd like to meet Jan -- James is one of my regulars, we chitchat while I make his drinks, and that's his partner," Ariadne explains quickly to Jules and Della. "Be right back!" There she goes, cupcake and all, in a swirl of skirt.

"Indeed! It's thematic. The Greeks and Romans did like their epithets." Della does look at those starry eyes, and smile to herself, so fond. "Dipping him in Nair," really truly deserves repeating, with a wave added on as Ariadne's retreating.

Afterward to Jules, patiently, "Think Xena and Gabrielle. He's a ginger too. ...Except Gabriel so people don't get confused, which is not to say that a boy couldn't be a Gabrielle," look where they are, after all, "but anyway it sounds the same when you yell." Call. 'Call' is the nice word.

"Little Asshole Phesty," concludes Una, except no, she's really saying nothing that is not wholehearted affection. Those kittens? Despite their provenance, they have utterly stolen her heart.

She grins at her housemates, letting Ariadne dart off without comment. "I mean... wherever they came from, they're ours now, and I love them. Whatever we call them."

Once again, Jules just barely gets the reference. It’s not only the sci-fi and fantasy cues; her lesbian cultural knowledge is also sadly lacking. “Oh. From that show.”

She just grins back from Una, whose naming practices are squarely in line with her own for this round, at least. “Feisty Phesty. Maybe once he stops being so shy.”

"Remind me to run Ares by you, sometime," Della asides, only a little sly.

But, "Phesty McPhesty-Face?" Also, "You can be feisty and shy, it's just harder. It's okay if he's always shy." And while they're at it, "I think I'm going to see about meeting some new people. But first, Una, want to pick us out something yummy for the road?" Aka, the room? Cupcakes, cookies, what have you: whatever the baker chooses.

Una is determinedly confident: "We just need to build up his confidence a little. He's always had his sister to look out for him, and-- well. We'll see, won't we?" She makes an expansive gesture: Della may go and talk to whom she likes. Una will do likewise. They will all do likewise.

But there will be no grocery store goodies for them, no indeed.