Realistic or Modern Celestial Havoc: Fortuitous Alignment

[ManicMuse]

In the quaint town of Great Falls MT, Heaven and Hell are on the brink of chaos. The celestial and infernal leaders have been absent for a century, leaving angels and demons to navigate an unpredictable world. In the midst of a rare celestial alignment known as the "Fortuitous Confluence," an angel and a demon form an unlikely alliance to prevent an impending catastrophe. As the cosmic chess game unfolds, the small town becomes the battleground for comical encounters, unpredictable alliances, and the emergence of newfound powers among ordinary humans.

Act 1: The Fortuitous Confluence Unveiled

​

As the sun gracefully dips below the snow-covered hills, casting a soft, wintry glow over the charming town of Great Falls, an air of tranquility settles over the dirt roads and pothole-riddled streets. Unbeknownst to the townspeople, the celestial and infernal realms have remained silent for a century, leaving angels and demons to navigate the earthly realm without divine or infernal guidance.

In the heart of Great Falls, a unique convergence of energies takes place. The Fortuitous Confluence, a celestial alignment with cosmic significance, begins to cast its ethereal glow upon the snow-laden town. Residents, bundled up against the cold, go about their evening routines as the chilly wind carries whispers of the supernatural forces at play.

The camera pans across the town square, where a warmly lit coffee shop stands as a rustic haven against the winter chill. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the crisp scent of snow in the air, inviting locals to gather and share the warmth of their favorite brews on the dirt roads.

Within the coffee shop's snug interior, patrons huddle over steaming mugs, their conversations accompanied by the soft crackle of a fireplace. The barista, bundled in a cozy sweater, artfully crafts intricate designs on the foam, creating ephemeral masterpieces that mirror the wintry landscape outside.

Outside, snowflakes gently fall, adorning the town in a blanket of serene white. Street lamps cast a soft glow upon the dirt roads, highlighting the rugged charm of Great Falls. An ethereal hush falls over the town, a prelude to the cosmic symphony about to unfold amidst the winter's embrace and the humble beauty of dirt roads.

In this tranquil moment, the stage is subtly set for the unpredictable events that will soon grip Great Falls. The residents continue with their lives, unaware that the quietude is the calm before the celestial havoc destined to unfold in the heart of their charming, winter-clad town, now centered around the welcoming coffee shop and the rustic beauty of dirt roads.

 

[ManicMuse]

TIme: 5 PM
Location: Cozy Coffee Cafe
With: A full house

In the unassuming town of Great Falls, where the whispers of cosmic forces mingled with the everyday routine, Eleanor "Ellie" Frost was a familiar face at the local coffee shop. Nestled amidst the sleepy charm of the town, Ellie's presence graced the sole independent coffee haven, a comforting refuge from the corporate chains.

With the military base adding a touch of significance to the town, Great Falls had managed to secure an international airport, albeit one that humbly hosted just a couple of flights a day on the smallest planes major airlines had to offer. Ellie, as the local barista, became a silent witness to the comings and goings, her daily life colored by the transient rhythm of the airstrip.

Born and bred in Great Falls, Ellie was a fixture in the community. Her roots ran deep, intertwined with the history and tales of the town. The coffee shop, her domain, was more than a place for brewing espresso and crafting latte art; it served as a gathering spot where locals exchanged stories and connected amidst the gentle hum of conversations.

To the townsfolk, Ellie wasn't just a barista; she was a comforting presence, an integral part of the tapestry that made Great Falls unique. Her knack for remembering each customer's preferred brew and a genuine smile that welcomed both locals and occasional visitors turned the coffee shop into a haven where stories unfolded over the aroma of freshly ground beans.

The quaintness of Great Falls, embellished by the military base and the modest airport, shaped Ellie's perspective. Her life, intertwined with the ebb and flow of the town, had become a testament to the beauty found in simplicity, the magic hidden in the mundane.

As the Fortuitous Confluence began to cast its glow upon Great Falls, Ellie, the hometown barista, found herself unwittingly becoming a conduit for celestial energies. Little did the townsfolk know that the familiar face behind the counter would soon play a pivotal role in a cosmic drama unfolding on the quiet streets they called home.

 

[Autumn Leaf]

For the simple people of Great Falls, there were few places of entertainment. The old city has been caught in the cascade of modernization, causing the city to appear some parts cozy, welcoming, and homely, yet strikingly sleek. Like a refurbished old vintage car. All of the antiquated, rusted parts intact, the only difference being a fresh coat of paint. One of those neutral colors, devoid of personality. For a time, there wasn't much to do besides enjoy a peaceful, quiet life. Outside of the occasional military parade, or a visit to the local shopping mall. If one could even call it that dingy plaza as such. Despite the unremarkable quirks, the town was a quiet retreat. A breath of fresh air. Away from the chaos of the ever-buzzing digital world and dopamine-addiction of the instantly gratifying webpages.

The recently elected mayor won via campaigns regaling a 'revitalization' for Great Falls, plastering the town hall with posters laden with rhetoric for change. And other uplifting nonsense slogans.

What amounted from their so-called 'utopic vision', is the unsightly, gangly construction site that envelopes the perimeter of the once-beautiful, timey Town Square. Much like an overgrown pimple on a face.

As tradition for the listless, boring town, the locals wander the snowy streets, entering family-run shops, eagerly gossiping about recent events. But new traditions have begun to take root. Youths excitedly snap pictures on their phones, vlogging and sharing stories on social media as they coral aground the few recently opened brand stores. Their bright neon signs glowed in stark contrast to the older sections of the square.

Behind them, in dark alleys, the old light fixtures barely flickered. This particular one reading "Pacifico". The movie theatre supposedly has been around since the town's foundation, a rundown place regularly hosting out-of-date films. A dead-zone for most people. A hotspot for the few diehard film buffs.

Among the bustling streets, while groups of people -- families, friends, and colleagues were busy shopping for gifts for the upcoming winter season, bundled in thick puffy coats and sharing warm smiles, a young man had been spending the last few hours in silent misery. Johnny had not moved from that corner spot, a few blocks down from main street. Dressed in layers of coats that looked have seen one too many winters, his dreary eyes focused on the scratched fretboard. His puffy fingers, despite their swollen, sausage-like appearance, glided with surprising nimbleness around the the strings of the guitar. Occasionally, he would sing a verse into a stand-in microphone.

Despite the latent talent, the wave of bodies simply moved past him. The guitar case
by his feet was largely empty, save for a few bills.

Though, who can blame people for a lack of interest? Truly. The music was plain, for the most part. Almost forgettable. It was easy enough to mistake it for some stock music playing from an outdoors speaker. There were only a few people who even bothered to stop and listen. Perhaps out of pity. Even fewer who had the kindness to spare some back pocket change for the fellow.

In the middle of a slinky chorus, a few teens turned the corner and headed down the street. The small party jumping excitedly as they discussed their plans aloud. One of them was even taking selfies while walking. They don't seem to notice the man, too preoccupied with obnoxiously taking up as much space on the sidewalk as possible. They practically drove everyone else off. But it didn't look like his first time being accosted by a runaway teen mosh-pit. Johnny bent awkwardly, narrowly dodging the squeezing bodies.

One practically throws an empty cup on him, missing the nearby trash can.

"Come on..."

All Johnny could do in protest was shake his head, swinging the instrument to the side as the rowdy bunch continues bulldozing pedestrians past him. Stopping the set, he bends over and picks up the discarded cup. It was an expresso, smeared with tacky lipstick. He recognized the logo as one from a local cafe. Johnny scratched his chin. As if trying to recall a memory. With a shrug, he moved to toss it away. Though there was no hurry in his step. There wasn't much of a crowd to begin with.

Then, as he trudges back to the corner, a little girl walks up.
"Hey! Mister! Can you play Jingle Bells?" called out a the child, clinging to the arm of her mother. Must have been only 4 or 5.

"Er, yeah! You want to hear it?" he says, forcing a weak smile. This was the sixth time today this same request was issued.

She shakes her head, smiling. With her bloated furry coat, she looked like a bouncing penguin.
It was almost infectious, the cuteness. In spite of himself, he lets out a small chuckle.

A sparkle of life emerged in the waning, crestfallen expression. But as Johnny begins to squeeze the guitar pick and strum the first chord, an unpleasant sound rings out. The girl shouts in shock.
It sounded like a metal wire being bent. A spring that had been stretched too far.

-- SNAP

When the rusty old E - string broke, splitting int two, the metal coiled like a snake. Whipping back and biting into his hand. He nearly dropped the guitar, but grasped firm onto the neck as he bit back from cursing aloud. The little girl continued to unleash a deafening squeal, pointing at the blood dripping down onto the snow. The mother quickly drags the child away, as though a culprit to a crime scene. Leaving the man staring down at his bloody hand, all alone.

A low sigh followed.
"...Could at least drop a tip."

...

The hand was wrapped in a small tattered scarf. It wasn't a deep wound. Leaving only a small stain. So all the shouting was a bit overdramatic, to say the least. Johnny lugged down the street with the massive pack of equipment, crammed into a hefty patchwork backpack. His eyes lingered across the people, the fading lights, and the drifting snow. Unable to play, he simply had the idea to walk. There was no direction in mind. Though a restlessness permeated the young man. His dark green eyes constantly switched back and forth between objects in his wandering path.

Like he was looking for something.

Perhaps it was a good thing that the string snapped, in retrospect. It saved him from playing that same song again and again. Who knows how many more times tonight he would've been asked to play another rendition of 'Last Christmas', or 'All I Want For Christmas'? He shuddered at the thought. When did it exactly get this way. Scraping together change just to survive.

Johnny then stopped. He had to turn his head, in a double take.
It was that logo from earlier. The local cafe. Feeling his stomach grumble, the tatty man made a shrug and pushed into the crowded little shop. Conversations were flying around the bustling main floor. The air felt like a soft buzz. Similar to the feeling of sitting by a warm, crowded communal bonfire by the beachside.

He looked around absently, coming up to the counter. There was a young woman there.
"Uh, hey. Er. I'm not from around here. Got a specialty brew?" he mutters, barely glancing at the barista.

 

[ManicMuse]

View attachment 1132190
TIme: 5 PM Hour
Location: Cozy Coffee Cafe
With: A full house & Johnny

Ellie stole a somewhat distracted glance at the clock on the wall, noting it was a little past five in the evening. The realization that there were still several hours to go until the establishment would close for the night prompted a sigh. Despite her best efforts, a small tray of freshly baked cookies narrowly avoided a tumble as Ellie continued her routine, attempting to meticulously craft yet another indulgent peppermint mocha latte before presenting it enticingly in the window. With slightly less grace than usual, she stepped out from behind the counter, navigating through the hallway where the restrooms and the employee area merged.

Retrieving an antiquated iPhone from her pocket, Ellie clumsily tapped the screen to locate her mom's contact. A rather haphazard message was composed: "Hey, shaping up to be another bustling night. Please tell Ryan that I'll tuck him when I get home." The confirming bloop tone seemed to echo a bit louder in the small space. Ellie then gestured to Ashley for a smoke, the exchange sealed with a somewhat awkward wink and a nod. Jacketed up for the cold, Ellie grabbed an oversized black trash bag that had taken residence near the back door and headed out to the dumpster.

The metallic clatter of the bag finding its place in the dumpster resonated through the quiet evening. Ellie, seeking a moment of solace, extracted a box of cigarettes from her pocket, performing a slightly fumbled tap to compact the tobacco before selecting one and igniting it. However, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by an unfamiliar voice.

"Excuse me. Ah, yes, hello. Is this Great Falls?"

Ellie pivoted, expecting a nondescript brick wall, but to her surprise, a middle-aged woman in a crisp navy blue pantsuit and striking white earmuffs materialized before her. The woman, lacking a jacket or suitcase, emitted a golden mist with every move. Ellie executed a somewhat exaggerated double take, surveying the surroundings for a hidden camera, and then refocused on the golden mist. The oddity intensified as the woman mimicked Ellie's behavior, jolting her back to reality.

"Yes, it is! You've arrived in Great Falls, indeed. Sorry, had something in my eye, a snowflake," she explained, gesturing to the snow on the ground with her cigarette before glancing at the lit smoke. "Oh, sorry. Hope you don't mind. Trying to sneak one in before another crowd arrives."

The woman, impeccably attired in the dark blue pantsuit and white earmuffs, smiled and gestured, "Oh yes, I'd sneak one in too before the hordes come. It will be a glorious battle."

"Yeah, holiday crowds get crazy. Uh- night."

Befuddled and flustered, Ellie bid a hasty retreat inside, casting a somewhat awkward backward glance at the street lights, contemplating if it was a mere play of light.

Back behind the counter, she tried to make sense of the peculiar encounter, knocking over a small stack of napkins in the process. Transitioning to the register while Ashley took a break in the back, Ellie's lack of surprise was evident when the next customer mentioned he wasn't from the area.

"Must be a lot of people coming into town for the holidays," she mused, primarily justifying the strange encounter outside to herself. "We boast a Gingerbread latte, a bestseller. Additionally, we offer it with eggnog in lieu of milk. Or, if you seek a caffeine-free alternative, our Wassail is comprised of oranges, apple cider, and an abundance of spices. And blood. Woah, is your hand okay?"

Noticing his hand wrapped in a scarf and what seemed like blood at the tip of his fingers, Ellie clumsily bent down behind the register. After a somewhat chaotic shuffle of items off the shelves, she returned with a small white box in hand.

"First aid kit. We get a lot of bumps and cuts in these parts, so this thing is well stocked. How about we see to a better bandage? Then you can decide on a drink."

 

[Autumn Leaf]

Did he walk into the wrong place?
He blinked once or twice as the barista spoke of gingerbread-free caffeine, and wasabi oranges or something. What kind of freak shop is this?

The rugged man glanced at the nearest person. They were talking- No, actually, more like were hosting a shouting match with their phone loudspeaker. Oblivious to how annoyed everyone looked around. Perhaps no one dared to say anything due to fear for their life. As the sharp, rainbow-like talons at the tips of her over manicured fingernails seemed capable of even tearing through metal. The drink curled in her claw-hand looked like some sort of frothy blue-purple artificial concoction straight from outer space. No. That settles it. This is definitely a coffee joint. There was even a man tucked in the back corner typing away on a laptop wearing big branded aviators, cosplaying as though he was some sort of upcoming big-shot producer. But even Johnny can see the photos of cute cats on the reflection of his choice indoor shades.

Wait. Blood?

Johnny looked down at his hand when it was mentioned. He almost tried to reflexively hide it. But it was already too late. The woman had gone to one of the shelves to fetch a kit. Admittedly, fumbling a few items along the way. His mouth tightened when it was brought forth.

"Er, it's alright.. The hand will heal. Thanks though." he said, trying to dismiss the act of kindness.

"Can't say the same about my string. Er, guitar. Not like underwear or anything. Anyway. Is there a music store around here?" he looked up, as if doing some mental calculations. Then let out a sigh, "Shoot. It's gonna cost me. Maybe I shouldn't get coffee after all..."

Just as he said that, his stomach began to grumble again. It was like the sound of rolling thunder. Even that rowdy call-girl stopped raving to stare.

His cheeks flushed.
"Uh, haha..." trying to smile, "Is there a discount menu?"

 

[ManicMuse]

Ellie observed the man's reactions with a practiced ease, an unspoken ballet choreographed by years of serving both coffee and compassion in the heart of Great Falls. The initial refusal of assistance was met with a nod; Ellie understood the pride that often accompanied these times, and the desire to maintain dignity amidst hardship.

The mention of underwear string enticed a subtle bite on the inside of Ellie's lower lip, a quiet attempt to stifle a giggle. The mental image of a local music store with a dedicated section for hanging underwear, strung up by guitar straps, played out in her imagination. A whimsical escape, a diversion her mind often took to find amusement in the mundane.

As the man's stomach grumbled, Ellie's focus snapped back to reality. Her initial assessment told her he wasn't a troublemaker seeking a handout. There was a sincerity in his eyes that resonated with her, sparking the maternal instinct she seldom showcased. Her usual bubbly demeanor took a backseat, replaced by a more serious and caring side.

The cellphone hyena's attention prompted a stern gaze from Ellie. "Did you need something?" she asked, watching the claws around the cup tightening, a warning beneath the surface. The woman sneered before turning away, returning to her public call now lamenting about the service industry.

Ellie's attention shifted back to the bloodied hand. "Whelp, like it or not, you clearly need to eat something, and I can't have that causing a biohazard." The transition from stern to compassionate was seamless, a testament to her practice in navigating the delicate balance between roles. She did not even address the inquiry about the music store as there were more pressing matters at hand. "Please, go take a seat at one of the tables, and I'll bring you some food and something to wrap that cut up but first..."

She set down the first aid kit before preparing a small ceramic mug of black coffee. With a saucer slide under to protect fingers from the heat, she extended the offering, her unspoken insistence that he could take as evident in her gaze. "Cream, sugar, honey, and spoons are all over there." She motioned to a station beside the stone fireplace, a designated counter space that fostered the homely and friendly atmosphere for those choosing to linger.

In this unexpected moment, Ellie's role shifted from the buoyant barista to the caring nurturer.

 

[Autumn Leaf]

Johnny almost burst out laughing when Ellie showed fangs towards the resident play-by-play caster. Holding puffed cheeks, he quietly sucked back the half-giggle. Fearing they would notice and throw a fit. There were few things on this Earth more traumatic. His eyes gazed at the barista with a level of reverence. He didn't expect someone so sweet to have such a bite. When the steamy cup was suddenly thrust out to him, the young man almost raised a hand in protest. But Ellie's eyes showed a type of persistence that felt fierce. Not to mention, he already saw what happened to those who disturbed the local peace of this particular beast's cozy den.

Somehow, the grown man felt like he was a child under the mercy of a stern parent.

He merely scratched his chin, "There is a special place in hell reserved for those who waste a good cup of coffee..."
Taking the saucer, Johnny moved away from the counter with a faint smile and a joke. It was the best way he knew how to show some appreciation. "Biohazard, huh? Don't worry. I've got a roll of yellow tape. Wouldn't want to infect any other guests."

He was definitely tatty, that much he could admit. But seriously, the last time he took a full-body shower was only like... well, actually. Nevermind.

As the man turned, he bowed his head. Ellie might have thought this was nothing. But to him, who has experienced the rough and tumble of drifting between city streets, such selfless acts were few and far between.

"Er. Thanks. Miss One-in-a-million."

Johnny sat down in the corner by the fireplace with a light sigh, not realizing how sore his legs felt until he finally had a proper sit-down. Holding the cup in order to warm up his stiff hands before taking a big gulp. He preferred coffee black. Plenty of people have scoffed at such taste, or lack thereof. But it was also not entirely his reason. As a live performer himself, Johnny saw baristas and other service workers in a similar light. They all juggled some sort of thankless act to entertain the public. Somehow, it just felt wrong to alter the work of an artist. Though, truthfully, he couldn't tell the difference right now. What with the scalding sore spot at the roof of his mouth.

Having not taken the precautionary blow, he was now paying the price from intaking the blistering hot liquid thoughtlessly.
The young man tried to not make this clumsy mistake show, forcing the tears back as he quickly swallowed.

Most of all, Johnny didn't want the kind barista to think he was at all dissatisfied with the gift by spitting it out. Still, despite the obvious pain, his lips formed a smile. How would burn cream taste? Surely, if his ruse had been found out, she would make him apply it orally. The young man gazed into the fireplace with sullen eyes. When was the last time he felt this comfortable? He only stirred the cup blankly for a moment. His head naturally reclined back onto the soft cushion.

He closed his eyes simply to enjoy the moment. He was always an avid listener. Sound simply touched him in a way that perhaps other people would easily overlook.

The shop's speakers had an aged quality, possessing a subtle static at certain frequencies of tones or notes. Perhaps it hasn't been changed since this place has been built. He didn't so much dislike the overplayed holiday tune softly serenading the cafe, in that moment. While the fireplace radiated warmth across his cheek.
The uplifting carol fluttering between the soft conversations of the patrons, and the idle churning of coffee machines, was a surprisingly soothing combination. There was a special charm to this rustic atmosphere, one swimming in faint notes of coffee beans.

His mind drifted there, on the verge of sleep.

 

[ManicMuse]

As the rustic melody of the overplayed holiday tune swirled through the coffee shop, Ellie observed Johnny making his way to the quiet corner by the fireplace. The cup cradled in his hands held the bitter solace of black coffee, a simple offering of warmth in this haven she considered a home away from home.

In her sanctuary of familiarity, Ellie found sudden confrontation as the rainbow-like taloned woman stood in front of her with a nearly empty cup. While the impressions of her coffin nails were notable on the cup, what intrigued Ellie more was the absence of the lid that had been present just moments ago. Though the angle was less than ideal, Ellie would have bet a dollar that the paper cup now held only about two inches of liquid. To no one's surprise, the round-faced, middle-aged woman with an impressively large septum piercing started to bark dissatisfaction at Ellie about her beverage.

Before a word could be gotten in edgewise, the argument circled from the wrong beverage to burnt, to the simple fact that it was in a to-go cup and not a ceramic mug. Ellie stared silently, maintaining a fixed expression, waiting. As she attempted to stare into space, she couldn't help but notice something a little odd—nothing alarming by any means, simply bizarre. Yet, it couldn't have been notable to anyone else because, as her gaze shifted slightly, she was able to see many in the shop had turned their attention to the scene and were not reacting as she would expect for anyone witnessing this. Black blurs of mist were clustered around the outline of the woman before her. It was subtle but still very notable. Finally, the squawking woman found a moment to catch a bubble.

Ellie, silently alarmed about the visual anomaly, moved to the register, surprisingly an updated point-of-sale system. While everything in this town was outdated, the credit card processing companies ensured there was no issue in getting that processing money and provided swanky computers.

It was not hard to recall the order as Ellie swiped through the last few transactions and then began to read aloud, "Hot extra-large gingerbread latte with six extra pumps of crème brûlée, four shots of white chocolate, only one shot of espresso, and cinnamon dusted on top. Does that sound familiar?" She waited just long enough to get confirmation from the woman, who responded smugly, likely assuming the information was being reviewed with the intent to remake the drink.

Ellie then sternly spoke loud enough to allow others awake enough to listen in. "Well, I personally made that drink, and considering it's quite an unusual list of ingredients, I can assure you, I followed the instructions exactly. Additionally, you've had no issue with it for the last," she leaned over to dramatically emphasize the point, "38 minutes you've been drinking it. Lastly, you requested an extra-large, to which our in-house cups do not accommodate. Though considering you have already consumed 90% of it, here is a cup." She intentionally pulled one of the mugs stored upside down to prevent anything from accidentally falling into them and offered the cup upside down purposefully.

Ellie could feel the adrenaline start coursing through her veins, causing her to shake ever so slightly. While she had her fair share of troublesome customers over the years, it always got her fight-or-flight instincts going, and this time the extra aura the woman had about her was surely not helping. She could feel blood rushing to her face, causing her cheeks to flush, but luckily for her, she had invoked the same response from the now tomato-red-faced woman.

"Why, I never! I will be sure to leave a scathing review about this place," she announced loudly as she smacked the last of her paper-cupped drink onto the counter. Fortunately for Ellie, the busy evening, causing a small crowd to watch things unfold, seemed to quench the likely normal dramatics of the woman.

"I don't think that time is correct, and everyone makes mistakes, but fine. I will settle for you putting it in a cup if you can just add some milk to make it drinkable." Ellie could hear her own pulse in her ears now. As much as she wanted to pound this woman's face into the espresso machine, she forced a smile and nodded. Sadly, being employed meant sometimes taking the L as the win. "Of course." Ellie snatched up the nearly finished drink, then disappeared to the espresso machine and mini-fridge. Despite her normally better judgment, at the last moment, she pulled out the coconut milk instead of the normally used 2% milk.

Heating up the milk with the frother, she then tossed the coconut milk into the ceramic cup along with the remains of the once over-the-top gingerbread latte and presented it to the woman. With a sneering smile, the woman snatched away the now-mugged drink and returned to her perch, I mean table.

Ellie's gaze shifted down to find the first aid kit behind the counter. The cut on Johnny's hand, a testament to the trials he'd faced, still required tending. Ellie sighed and wiped a bead of nervous sweat from her brow, only to startle as a hand fell on her shoulder. With a start, she was met with Ashley's reassuring gaze. After sharing an unspoken understanding of Karen's, Ellie motioned to the back fridge. "Never dull around the holidays, huh? I'm planning to offer the last Turkey sandwich to that guy over there. It's going to be discarded at the end of the night, and he looks like someone who could use a break." Ashley glared over her shoulder at the now mugged-up woman who was fat-fingering a phone again. "Yeah, of course. I've got the counter." With that, Ellie grabbed the sandwich, leaving it on the wax paper so as to not attract the attention of the terror-dactyl. Stacking it on top of the first aid kit, she moved across the cozy space, the familiar creak of the wooden floor beneath her adding a rhythmic cadence to her steps.

Approaching Johnny, she offered a gentle smile, the fangs from earlier hidden beneath the veneer of warmth. Though she quickly noted it appeared he might have drifted off. It always felt a slight sort of awkward to awaken a slumbering person. But still, it had to be done. "Mind if I take a look at that hand?" Her voice, usually lighthearted, carried a forced calmness as she allowed the kit and sandwich to flop down a few inches to thud on the table nearest Johnny.

She pulled up a dining chair from an unoccupied table before opening the kit and reaching for the antiseptic wipes. As Ellie settled, the tune from the aged speaker intertwined with the sounds of conversation and the soft whir of coffee machines, creating a melodic backdrop to this impromptu healing session.

If allowed, Ellie would expose the wound before cleaning and bandaging the cut. "It might not be much, but we have a turkey sandwich that didn't sell. It's yours. I usually keep to myself, but I believe people in need deserve a hand up. Having faced my own struggles, I know how much kindness can make a difference on a bad day. I can also get you the number for the music shop before you leave. I don't know when they open and the owner is far too old to have that sort of information online. But that way to can call them in the morning and not waste the gas."