Vicnae Urritz

Mo nodded, listening as the man spoke. His demeanor seemed to change after she mentioned the island size. “Oh, I mean yes - but you know that saying ‘It’s a small world”? I guess it’s a good one to use for this situation - of course it’s a great size, but it can be small when it comes to seeing exes, or maybe someone you’re not find of.” She chucked, hoping to have smoothed over the situation. She hadn’t meant to complain, she was just chatting with a stranger. 

“Yes, that’s the one.” Morgana beamed. “I’m proud of our little shop, we’ve been doing exceptionally well these days - somewhat surprising, since this new world has so much to offer, especially in the medical field.” She added. 

“I- ah, yes I guess  I should be getting back, I wouldn’t want to leave Zameen to the teens wanting a Tarot Reading.” Morgana shook her head. “Well, it was lovely to meet you Victor, even under the unfortunate circumstances.” She joked, holding up the coffee they had previously argued about.

The words are enough to placate him for the time being; but the words have still done their harm and it’s not something he’ll be able to just forget. If someone as kind as Morgana was starting to feel discontent, it’s only a matter of time before others start voicing their opinions aloud as well. “I agree, it can be a bit stifling. But it’s a small price to pay for our safety, I think.” Vic gave her his best attempt at a sincere smile, hoping she’d agree. 

“I’ll have to swing by one of these days, see what all the fuss is about. I believe i’ve met the Co-owner...” Vic pursed his lips as he attempted to place the name of the Elf whom he’d met years before. “Zameen?” He guessed, but even as he said the name he wasn’t quite sure if it was right. “You’ll have to excuse my memory, it seems to be slipping in my old age.” 

Timothy blinks, and takes a second, clearly weighing something in his mind. His expression goes through a veritable roller-coaster – first contemplation, then a cheeky almost-smirk, then a visible grabbing of reins and halting whatever idea had just crossed his mind.

“As funny as it would be if I were some arrogant cup-lecturing mansplainer, I’m actually the Curator, hello,” he chuckles, rocking back on his hooves. “I had half a mind to offer to show you to the office, sit down behind my desk, and only then admit I’m who you’re looking for, but that might have been a bit mean?”

Probably. Funny, yes, but a bit too on the mockery side. The poor man already looks vaguely horrified at the notion of being shown more art, Timothy doesn’t want to drive him away.

“Timothy. Delighted to meet you.” The smile that accompanies the offered hand for a shake is either downright flirtatious or just superbly pleased. “If you have business, you should have called ahead, I could have offered lunch! Never mind, I suppose, we’ll save that for next time – here, come to my office, and we can chat to your heart’s content.” Then, he proceeds to hold out his arm, Victorian gentleman style.

“To be honest,” Vic begins, still halfway debating which persona to use on the newly identified curator; the smarmy Council member or the friendly patron. He think friendly patron would get him further with the Faun but Vic didn’t quite feel like schmoozing anyone at the moment. “I’m glad you didn’t. I think you’ve already had far too much fun at my expense.”

It’s not that he minds being on the receiving end of joke, it’s just that he’s already so far out of his comfort zone and he’d really rather just get this whole thing over with. Nobody ever claimed doing Council work would be fun, but did it really have to be so boring?

It was too true, she would eat him alive if it was in her interest, or at least she would try. At the moment she was weaker, since her last close ally, Sylense, was still asleep. It was like they were getting on any better than she got on with anyone else in the Council, but Sylense and Yael were similar enough that they could ally themselves whenever they felt like it, however neither of them had qualms of stabbing the other in the back. 

“That you will have to decide for yourself Vicnae. What would serve me better? It could be a lie to butter you up, but it might also have been fun to tell you it was horrible, just to see your reaction. Either way no matter what I say, I could still be lying or telling the truth. But there is a good chance that I’m being honest, because your possible affection isn’t worth eating something truly disgusting. No offense, but there aren’t many situations where I would eat something disgusting to humour someone.” she shrugged. She didn’t mind offending him on principle, but even he would probably have to agree that there were limits to acting for others. 

“I would think even they would be in a rush.” Mo laughed over the top of her drink since it was still brought up to her mouth. “It takes me usually five minutes to get here, and even then people seem to walk around me while I’m going at an already fast pace.” She shook her head. Morgana nodded, agreeing with the man. “This Island is even too small, sometimes.” 

“Oh, I’m on break right now, the shops not usually busy in the mornings. I co-own the Apothecary shop a few doors down.” She said nodding in the direction of her store. “I don’t think I’ve seen you come in, that’s alright though - I guess it’s a little outdated for the people who can pick up their phones and search a remedy for their qualls.” She smirked. 

“The Castle?” Mo raised her brow. She knew many people thought of it as stuffy, old fashioned, but Morgana thought it was romantic. The great halls made just for dancing, the high arches and the brick pattern that just felt mystical within itself. “I’m sure it couldn’t be too bad, but I mean, if you’re stopping by here they might not have the best coffee.” She joked. “I’m Morgana.” She reached her hand out for a shake.

“Usually they are rather busy,” Vic agrees with a nod. “But they’re in the customer service field which means they have to be nice all the same. Besides, they’re tips are on the line if they decide to bump me whilst rushing to serve another customer.” The air between them had been light and playful thus far and despite his best attempts, he seemed to stiffen at Morgana’s comment on the size of the island. It was one thing for himself to joke about it, but another person? It was the sort of unrest that was his job to ensure nobody felt - or at least that nobody spoke about aloud. “I think it’s a rather perfect size. Nobody is too far away from each other if they need help but it’s large enough to grant just enough privacy.” 

His interest piqued when she mentioned her shop. As a Council member he knew it was the only store of it’s kind; they’d only given out one permit. “I know just the one. I may not get out much but your paperworks come across my desk once or twice. Witches’ Apothecary it’s named, is it not? Rather short and to the point, just as a shop name should be.” 

Timothy stops trying to suppress his amused little smile – the bet on the caterer makes his grin tug wider, because honestly, it’s what most people seem to land on. One sees a pile of plastic cups and one really does assume it’s not art.

In response, he gestures down at the little plaque on the podium. It’s easy to miss, but it reads, almost accusingly:

Tom Friedman 65 Cups, 2002

“Good thing you’re not a gambling man,” he laughs. “You’re also clearly not a conceptual art sort of man, which is perfectly understandable. Not all of us see the point of stacked cups or spider legs arranged on a piece of paper.” Which is another Friedman work, currently placed approximately two feet to the left of 65 Cups. 

It’s hideous. Timothy adores it.

“Can I interest you in, perhaps, something a bit more classical?” Timothy tilts his head, studying the man; he seems the classical sort. Or perhaps he might come completely out of left field and say that he loves Stuckism, who knows?

It’s the smile that lets Vic know he’s lost - and honestly, he can’t seem to muster up much shame about the fact. This man - this faun, he thinks with amusement, is clearly a regular or perhaps even works there. It was a losing battle from the start. 

“Hm...” Vic takes the loss in stride and with a small shrug of his shoulders. “I hope it was a donation at least, and not something the museum had to pay for.” 

The man laughs and it’s a light sort of thing, pleasant to the ear in fact which is not something Vic would expect to find himself thinking in a million years. Oh god, he groaned inwardly. he’d run into one of those personable people whom everyone adored. 

 He listened to the man continue talking and solidified his assumption that he worked at the museum - perfect. He’d be able to help Vic find the curator. He blanched as the man offered to show him more art and rushes to inform him that his presence was not driven by the desire to admire anymore so called art. “You can show me whatever you want as long as it’s in the direction of the Curator’s office. I have some business to attend to with him. I assume you can point me in the right direction? Unless of course you don’t actually work here and are instead some fanatic who gets his kicks by talking up the patrons and showing off his knowledge of...cups.” 

Morgana tilted her head, listening to the man. “No, it makes total sense.” She said in agreement. The shop was basically her home these days. “You’re the first person I’ve talked to longer than a minute that hasn’t been a customer.” Morgana chuckled. 

She noted his serious demeanor. “What kind of work do you do that would keep you so elusive?” She asked, covering her face with her hand momentarily realising it was likely too personal a question to ask a stranger. “I’m sorry, that was very forward.” She groaned.

@vicnae-urritz​

“That would explain your impeccable manners, anyone who isn’t serving me coffee and a turnover is always in such a rush.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he thought about the many times he’d been rammed into by some teenager running down the street. “I can never figure where they’re into such a rush to. The island is small enough you can get to just about anywhere quickly enough.”

“ That would just encourage me to be the first.” she said with her usual smile that didn’t go all the way into her eyes. Or maybe it did and her eyes were just always like that. 

“ You wound me. I am a sincere woman. But not in the way it is usually portrayed. Everyone always pretends they want to truth. Lying and being dishonest is horrible unless it calms someone’s mind. I am honest, but only because the truth is usually harder to swallow than lies.” Of course she would lie at the tip of a hat if it would help her but interestingly enough she didn’t have to do it as often as people would think.  Then she took a bite of the turnover and nodded. “ Not bad.” 

“I daresay Yael, the only thing sharper than your tongue are your heels. I’ve enough sense to steer clear of both.” It was true, of all the Council members, Yael was the one Vic knew to always be on the lookout for. His agenda never aligned specifically to one person’s and that often enough made him a target despite his disinterest in many of the Council’s politics. 

Morgana pinched her nose between her eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry- Thank you- I.” She stumbled over her words.

She took a deep breath, looking up at the man. Morgana took a sip of the coffee, letting the warm liquid sit on her tongue for a moment. “She won’t be happy about this, it’s delicious.” She smirked.

“Consider it a favor to myself. My niece would be elated to hear i’m speaking with someone not related to myself.” He realized his words and eyes widened in slight embarrassment as he attempted to backtrack. “I just meant- I talk to people all - God, i’m really bad at this. I don’t seem to get out much these days. Work and all, you know?”

“ Alright, let’s try your taste.” she agreed and ordered one of the turnovers.  Raspberry wasn’t her favourite flaviour, but she liked it well enough that she was confident that she wouldn’t need to spit it out. “ Not? I’d think I would need to eat a lot of sweets to balance out my bitterness.”

“I can honestly say i’ve never had anyone complain about my taste before. My eccentric style, sure. But never my taste.” Vic replied quickly, handing his card over to pay for the turnover. 

“Oh my god-” Morgana’s cheeks turned a light pink, slightly embarrassed about the mix up. She had been through a long morning organizing her shops inventory, and all without any coffee. Morgana ran her hand through her hair, taking a breath.

“I’m sorry, lets ask-” Morgana waived her hand at the busy barista. “Jamie?” She called, knowing him by name. He seemed to be too focused on his order to hear her. “I guess if we can get his 

Vic let out a friendly chuckle at the girl before putting a hand up to stop her. “Truth be told it was for a friend anyway and it appears that you need it more so than she. Simple mix up, try not to let it get to you, I certainly won’t. Plenty more coffee, i’m sure.”

She hadn’t paid for the coffee, nor any coffee right now and a childish notion made her not to want to pay for the coffee here, but she had come in here to get some, so she waved over one of the people that worked here and ordered a black coffee to go. “  What pastries can you reccomend?” Yes, she was a petty person, but being too petty made it easier for others to manipulate you. So every now and again she played along.

“How do you feel about raspberry turnovers? They’re a little tart but i’ve never imagined you having much of a sweet tooth anyway.” 

He probably had. She usually didn’t remember that kind of complements. She would remember if he has said her shoes were horrible, but her looking good was something she saw as a given and someone acknowledging it was a natural thing that happened.  “ I’m sure you have. And I’m not a big fan of Pumpkin Spice.” she said and threw the still full cup into the trash next to her. “ What brings you here, except the coffee?”

“Well at least you supported a local small business even if you did just throw their craft in the trash.” 

When he called her heartless she licked her lips with a grin and then began to laugh as if he had told her a really good joke. “ I think that’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.” she acted like he had genuenly complimented her. “ Don’t take it back Vic. A hearless woman can’t have it used against her. Who knows, maybe it’s true. It would explain a lot of things, wouldn’t it?” she smiled and took another sip of coffee she had stolen from him.

Morgana takes a sip of the drink she picked up from the counter. “You’re excused. This is clearly my Pumpkin Spice Latte.” 

“See.” She turned the disposable cup towards him, an M scribbled onto the side.

“Unfortunately that doesn’t seem to solve much.” He explained, turning to show her his own coffee cup that held an identical marking. “For some reason they seem to insist on referring to me as Mic instead of Vic. I’ve simply given up trying to correct them at this point.” 

“ What are you talking about? I’ve always been open to every person coming to me with a problem.” she really hadn’t, but she HAD cultivated that kind of image. Even holding babies in front of cameras, smiling, before handing them back as quickly as possible. “ How about you? Is there something I can help you with?”

“Oh my mistake, I must have gotten confused with some other cold blooded heartless woman.” Vic sniggered to himself at the thought of Yael as a fish but maintained his composure in front of her; instead deciding he’d best stop insulting the fellow council member before things turned ugly. “My apologies, I mean you no offense and I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on you, Yael. Bad string of dates lately, the poor barista got an earful about it earlier i’m afraid.”