gasoline mouth.

Marius had been wandering around, looking for a familiar face. Someone to speak to, that way the event would be a little easy to go through, he had really only decided to come for the music and the booze and as always the socializing was a bit difficult on him. He stopped dead in its tracks on his way around the fountain as he saw a young girl, a witch, practicing magic out in the open where several humans could see her. “You know maybe you should keep this private.”, he advised her, pointing at the little twirls of steam she was conjuring.

"I didn't set you on fire yet, so I guess I am keeping this private enough." Rosemarie commented lightly, as if she was talking about the weather. Slowly, the witch turned the face the man, eyes demostrating nothing but, perhaps, annoyance. "But if you were talking about the party, I completely agree. Avoiding nuisances is always the best option."

It took him a minute or two since when most people came up to the counter he only paid them half a mind — Her voice made him tear his gaze from the countertop where it’d come to rest and look at her once more …               “Rosemarie.” The tone was dubious in that it could have been surprise, interest, or a completely lack of either. Being that he was usually in the back either roasting, baking, or grinding numbers he of course had no idea what the woman in front of him would order but hopefully if he could keep her engaged in some manner of small talk the person working the drink bar would have her order ready before he had to ask again. “Ah, you know what they say about assuming,” Nicola said with a half smile that would imply he at least somewhat enjoyed this exchange thus far, “honestly though this behind the counter business isn’t my thing. I’ve already run off three customers today completely by accident.”

It never really bothered the way people looked at her -- what they think of her, what they talked about her. Rosemarie knew better, she always did. It was a matter of caring and letting yourself be affected, and neither happened to her. His tone, like the rest of them, didn't not reach her, not even slightly. "As noted you can fail in other parts of your life we were not aware of." She directed him one of her smiles, the curled the corners of her lips just enough, that made her eyes glisten softly. "Alas, " Her manicered nails drummed on the counter top "I came here to talk about or coffee supply in the Inn and about my coffee as well, is that you the one that control the temperature of he machines?"

He looks up in time just to see her walking his way, looking at her nails and nowhere else. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He’ll never understand the vanity of some people. “Careful there,” he called to her, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t think doors look out for girls checking their nails. I wouldn’t want you to walk into a wall.”

She stopped, looking over her shoulder only to see the man standing there. Rose was around power way too long to notice that he wasn't entirely normal. There was something. "Walls tend to not get into my way, door usually are open for me and men," She shrugged, referring to him in that case, of course. "They don't stand on my way for long."

Se noticed the girl walk in immediately, since the cafe was quiet at this time of day. Something about her made it almost obvious what kind of a person she was to others and herself, but Audrey knew it was not right or her place to judge others. What kind of person would she be then? So she smiled, like she did as everyone came into the cafe. “Hi there. What can I get you today?”

The coffee smell relaxed her almost instantaneously. She could feel the muscles of her back relaxing, every line of power rolling stronger inside of her. It was almost perfect, if she hadn't had to deal with those people. "Excitment, delightful." Rosemarie's dead tone was well known -- actually, everything about Rosemarie was well known. "Coffee, black. That's all."

Vi stared at the young girl across the room with distaste. Even with the years that had passed, the memory of stuck-up bitches and their fake nails burned in her mind. She preferred the violence of wolves to the politics of immature girls. She stared at her with a ferocious gaze, one that if caught would be easily picked up on. She didn’t want trouble, not in the slightest, but sometimes she couldn’t help but a feel that some people asked for it. If anything, Vi was always one to deliver.

She could've continued on her walk, shecould've ignored completely the nagging feeling on the bottom of her mind, and the pressure of another supernatural force -- the was Bindlebrim, though, if she didn't  feel pressured by it it wouldn't be home. Rosemarie stopped in her tracks, cocking her head to a side when spotted the woman across the street furiously staring at her. An automatic reaction, the witch's lips stretched slowly, eyes glistening -- and she should feel the same, not everyone got the pleasure to have Rose's attention, not even if it was for half a second.

It was one of those rare occasions that Nicola was working on the floor of the shop which he was only doing because sometimes employees needed breaks and in this particular case someone had needed a break and someone else had to go attend to some kind of familial matter. Most customers didn’t much care for when he was there due to his mostly surly attitude, but generally the quality of beverage he presented was enough of a silver lining that they dealt with the way he spoke down to them. When the customer was female of course it took almost an entirely different turn since Nicola had a bad habit of stuttering over even the smallest and most familiar phrases like greetings and asking for orders. At first when he heard the door chime open he did little more than heave a sigh but as he raised his gaze to the woman who approached the counter he tried to straight up some and cleared his throat before saying (in a hopefully polite enough tone),                    “Welcome to Kaffeine. What can I get for you today?”

Rosemaire Hale was Rosemarie Hale. She didn't expect people to ask her anything, but simply serve her with the best. The Kaffeine was her choice, for lack of a better one, and most of their staff was well aware of her choices. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, sighed deeply and directed her gaze to where the voice was coming -- only to make her lips stretch slightly. "Nicola." She wouldn't dignify anyone in that place to get more than two words from her. (They were already getting her money, for that.) But it was a opportunity that she couldn't miss. "Working hard, I assume."