Broke My Choux Pastry Heart [OPEN]
What: Bakery July Open Log
Where: The Bear Hug Bakery - South Island
When: On-going throughout the month of July. Please feel free to make your own threads if you'd like
Warnings: No Warnings. Will update if needed
Delmar thrives on routine: his morning walk, his day at work, and then settling in for dinner with his book in the evening. It took him awhile to build his routine here in Hadriel. He had to work at it while everything in this place worked against him with an aggressive insistence on denying them any sort of regularity in their lives.
But still he had managed to find some kind of consistency. The semblance of a day to day schedule.
That is...until everyone got flung across a handful of islands and his bakery ended farther away than where a simple walk could get him. It was unsettling. He had felt uprooted and panicked with everything foreign again.
But now with the boats going to and fro from the islands he's beginning to adapt again. Slowly but surely trying to work out a new adapted routine. But from time to time it might all become a bit too much. Most days he'll be his chipper self. He'll greet you with a smile and ask if there's anything you'd like. Or if you are here to help he'll gladly accept. They could always use another helping hand after all!
However some days he might be found trying to hide himself in a corner to wipe away some sniffles. He doesn't want to trouble anyone, after all, but sometimes the stress will get to him. It won't last long. Once he can get himself together he'll be back at the counter with a grin and a happy greeting.
"Welcome to the Bear Hug Bakery!"

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Part of his own routine, now adapted to the new setting, was swinging by the bakery. Delmar hadn't been able to make it there for awhile, though, so Wash had stopped checking if it was open. He doesn't actually have a reason to go to the south island on his own otherwise (though sometimes Kyna wants to hang out at the Speakeasy), but today he's hunting for some parts for a project that he hasn't been able to find in the shops on the west and north islands so far. Time to make the rounds, and as long as he's there of course he's going to check and see if it's open.
He's pleasantly surprised to find that it is, though he doesn't spot Delmar immediately when he steps inside. There are treats in the display case, though, and when he glances up from that he does see their baker in the corner, though his shoulders are hunched a bit and he's facing away. Wash is in full armor for safety and extra strength to row on the trip over -- like hell is he attempting to sail these waters -- and pulls off his helmet now to fully appreciate the smell in here. He smooths his hair down as much as he can manage and steps closer. Maybe the older man didn't just hear the door.
"Hey, Delmar. Back in business?"
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Little things. Like pebbles being dropped on him repeatedly, each light and easy to shrug off, but eventually a bruise forms. And with that comes an ache.
He doesn't hear the door, he's meant to get a bell for it but hasn't gotten around to it yet, so it isn't until he's spoken to that he realizes anyone is there. He jumps a little, as per usual when he's caught off guard, and he sniffles, hurriedly trying to rub at his face in a failed attempt to make himself look ok.
"W-washington?"
He turns then hurrying to the counter.
"Oh. You've not been by in a while. It is good to see you."
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He draws a breath for the usual correction, knowing it's his own fault for sticking to it for introductions, but... was Delmar crying?
"Yeah, I don't live on this island or I would've figured out you were open again sooner." He hesitates. Hm. "Are you okay?"
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A fretful expression passes across his face before he shakes his head, hands gesturing vaguely in hopes of distracting from the subject.
"I-I'm alright. Don't you worry about me. Surely you came here for something sweet not for...for any of that."
Needless to say he's not great at pretending to feel anything other than what he is really feeling. Shoulders sagging then he looks defeated by his own inability to pretend, looking at Washington apologetically.
"I don't want your first visit back to be a sad memory. This should be a happy place."
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"Nothing has to be happy all the time, you know. Not places or people. Did something happen?"
Perhaps more importantly, does he want to talk about it?
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Which, now that he says that, makes him feel even more silly for getting upset.
"Sometimes...er...well I...now and again.....," He fusses, fingers knotting together as he can't seem to pick how he wants to explain it. "Have ever felt like terrible has happened when it hasn't? Just because so many little things keep happening that it feels so very....overwhelming?"
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He sets his helmet down on the counter and shrugs apologetically. "Need to vent?"
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"All of you are so good at things...fighting...or magic.... sometimes I feel like I can't be of any help at all."
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He reaches to pull his pistol from his holster, dropping the magazine and popping a bullet out. The smaller the item, the easier this is for him. He holds it in his palm for Delmar to see, and after a moment's focus it begins to glow with warm yellow light.
"There's no magic in my world, but I still learned a few tricks. They're just tricks, at least for now, but they're real. And I know another guy learning here who can do way more."
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In fact the very subject visibly perks him up. So much so that it takes him a moment to focus back on what Wash is trying to show him with the bullet.
He watches it intently, jaw going slack in awe.
"Who taught you that??"
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They're not exactly friends, but obviously Wash knows him. Sounds like Delmar knows him much better is all. And now that the other man is actually watching, Wash focuses a little more and the glowing light starts to change colors, to brighten and dim at his will.
"Actually? He could teach you himself. He gives lessons too, but I learned from Kyna. They're best friends from the same world, it's the same kind of magic."
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"Harlan did mention something like that...," He murmurs, entranced by the light and timidly reaching to tap it with a fingertip as though maybe it'd be warm.
"But...I don't think so. Not for me," He finally confesses, peeking back up at Wash.
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"Why not? Just curious. If you're not happy with what you're doing already, I mean."
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He had told Harlan no as well. At one time or another he would begin to feel like maybe. After all, wouldn't it be wonderful to do such miraculous things? To make lights float through the air like Harlan or to make things glow like Wash.... but the more his imagination swells around those thoughts the more he feels those fearful butterflies in his belly. Emotions for Delmar like dams that break loose and won't come back under control until everything in the reservoir has drained out. To some degree he knows this about himself and to some degree he knows this is why things often seem so overwhelming. He can't seem to get control of whats going on inside of himself.
So the thought of adding something else he doesn't understand....something like magic....it frightens him.
"I don't think I'm ready," He shakes his head. "Maybe one day. Maybe even one day you could teach me. When you are as good as Harley and Miss Kyna."
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"I doubt I'll ever be that good. They've been at it since they were kids and they use it all the time. I'm a fighter. I know I'm good at that." He glances at the display full of baked goods. "You're definitely good at this, though, is it just that you think it doesn't "help" as much? Something being different doesn't make it less."
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"I don't want to fight anybody." He'd gone to war but he'd been enlisted. It wasn't a choice and he's never identified as a soldier and certainly he was never notably good at it. He was just doing his part. "But when the Null came they hurt so many people. They killed Harley and Michael...and I couldn't do anything."
Wash would have been able to do something. Delmar feels sure of that.
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He's teasing a little, poking fun at himself in the hopes it'll amuse Delmar. But then the conversation shifts back and...
"They killed people I cared about, too. And I couldn't do anything either. It'll be different, if they ever come back. I won't let that happen again."
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They had nothing like this back in Gull, and rarely anything like it in the Box. Sweets and cakes were an unneeded resource and so much time had to be devoted to making sure you had enough nutrition to stay alive that they weren't made much use of. Right now, though? Poison's the best fed she's been in... as long as she can remember. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to not feel the constant gnaw of hunger in the pit of her stomach.
She spies something she'd like, and straightens up, leaning back slightly to try and see where the proprietor might be.
Hello? Anyone back there?
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He pushes his handkerchief back into his pocket before emerging fully from his 'hiding' place. He looks a bit harried, red around the eyes and tired but he puts on a smile for his customer.
"Hello there...can I help you?"
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"Hi," Poison says. She recognises him, though, and manages to soften the edges of her expression into a small smile.
"I like how this one looks." One of the small cakes is pointed to - a cream tart with what looks like blueberries on top. "What do you want for it?"
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"Do you want it on a plate or in a box?"
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"A plate," the girl says, watching every move he makes. Her eyes light up, just a little, when he offers it out. It's a very pretty cake.
"Did you make it?"
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Jet tries not to develop too many habits, but coming to the bakery has become one of them.
He steps in expecting to find the old man behind the counter, but there's no one save for one or two people enjoying their cake near the window. Jet hums to himself, brushing his rain-dampened hair out of his eyes and moving to lean against the counter, peering towards the back and-- ah. There he is.
Delmar gets a gentle touch with a broad hand against his shoulder, and curious brown eyes on him when he reacts.
"You okay?"
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"I-I'm ok," he hiccups rather pathetically.
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"Need a minute? Can watch out front for you."