Discord
11-14-2019, 01:26 AM
Older piece, finished around April I believe. Minor edit. Simply titled Cake Bakes.
No warnings I'm currently aware of.
It's just another normal day in Cake Bakes Bakery.
"No but Cake, listen, legends say you can't tell a fairy your name, so I think it's perfectly reasonable to give a fairy type a fake name."
"You were there for a job interview," Cake sighs tiredly, shaking her head at her excitable friends misadventures. She takes a sip of tea before continuing, "you told her your name was Gwendolyn, Drake, and told her 'I know better than to take that' when she offered you something to drink. That's normal for a job interview."
"You're not supposed to accept gifts from fae or drink or eat their food. This is basic level stuff Cake, I've told you this before." Drake huffs, voice high and nasally and exasperated, as it's been the whole time since they got back from their interview. They look down though, hand fiddling with the cup of cocoa, Cake knowing that they are in fact heart broken at not getting a call back. There's not much Cake can do other than offer support. "It's not my fault fairies are kind of scary."
"Is this like the time you told me dragons abandon their first born, so dragon types were just abandoned dragon kids, but you couldn't find anything saying that to prove it to me? I'd like to read this fae lore." Cakes voice is light and humoured, and Drake instantly gains back their energy. Of course they do, mythology is their one true passion.
"No no no! This I can prove! Hold on!" They get up hurriedly, almost knocking over their drink in the process, and run up the stairs to Cakes room. It's sort of Drake's room too, but they insist it won't be much longer cake doesn't mind though, they enjoy their company.
Cake glances around, noting the four current occupants of her bakery. A tumor type who is varying degrees of purple chatters quietly in a corner with a folded eared cat type who she is certain dyed their whiskers bright pink. Is that possible, who knows, but they both come in once a week to catch up and eat half a cake between them, so she won't complain. Not far from them sits a paint type, bobbing its head to music and sketching something in a notebook while picking at a croissant. Three times a week, spend two hours at least and change up their order monthly, Cake and her have had talks about problems in the media and its portrayal of certain types, but they don't watch a lot of the same stuff. She's just getting around to the Gladiator type by the front, napping with headphones in, they don't need to sleep but apparently he wants to today, when Drake stumbles down the stairs.
"I found it!" It's their favorite book, well worn binfing with cat eared pages and sticky notes highlighting the best parts, and they effortlessly flip to the page on faires. "Here here! Read this cake!"
She starts reading, and does in fact find something about not giving fae your name, when a new cat enters the building, grabbing a chair and blocking the door while yelling at someone who knocks on the door. Looking up cake sighs, shaking her head while watching the Citrus type stand on the chair to yell out the window at the top of the door.
"You are not getting any coins from me Prophet! Do you hear me! Go away they are mine!" Parsimonious, an active coin collector who doesn't let anyone touch it's collection, and Prophet, a facebank who wanders around the area. He's actually pretty nice, comes in sometimes when its busy to help clean tables, but Parsimonious and him have a long history together and it's not good. This happens almost every other day.
Prophet stops knocking eventually, and Cake recognizes the sound of him slapping his cheeks and stifles a laugh. Parsimonious gets worked up so easily. Speaking of the Citrus type, it hops off the chair and turns to her, and she nods in silent agreement. It grabs three cookies from the counter and comes to sit by them, looking at the page the book is on. "You didn't get the job did you?"
"They told the Fairy Type their name was Gwendolyn and nearly poured a glass of water on their head."
"How am I supposed to know if I can trust them? What if they're s normal fairy disguised as a tcp?!"
"Drake, this is the third time something like this has happened." Cake's tone is stern, and Parsimonious watches with intent amusement at the duo. Cake stays firm, voice not wavering as Drake gives her a desperate look. "I'm thinking maybe you should go see someone."
"Nooooo. I don't want to." Drake crosses their arms over their chest, slumping in their chair. "You just dont understand."
It's then that the bell rings, signaling the door being opened. Wasn't that blocked? The trio all perk up to see the gladiator type, tail dragging behind him, exit the building, and Prophet enter. Parsimonious bangs its head on the table and quietly screams into its arm as Prophet waddles up, standing next to them and slapping its cheeks. Cake asked one time why it never talks to Parsimonious, and Prophet responded that it had once told him it liked facebanks better who didn't talk. He could at least respect that wish.
Their relationship is complicated. Has Cake mentioned they are actually neighbors? By choice even, they looked for apartments near each other.
Parsimonious gives in to the cheek slapping, pulling a coin out of its pocket and throwing it for Prophet to catch in his mouth. He waddles around to the other side of the table and bats at Cake's wallet in her pocket, and she responds by patting his head and giving him several coins. He then waddles out of the bakery in a way that Cake assumes is cheerful.
"I hate that guy so much." Parsimonious does not in fact hate that guy, Cake knows it. It would be lost without him. Parsimonious was inconsolable when Prophet had ended up in the infirmary one time due to an accident, it hadn't been around to see what happened and it blamed itself for his pain. Really he shouldn't have taken coins from a revenge type. Parsimonious turns to her, seemingly reading her mind while she sips her tea quietly. She knows when to shut her mouth. "Your boyfriend painted himself the colors of neapolitan icecream in his latest commercial, if you didn't see."
"He's not my boyfriend!" She's not panicking, that's an exaggeration. "We're just friends. And he brings me flowers. And chocolates. And we went to see a movie a few times." She crosses her arms and turns her head away from her snickering friends. "You both should bee happy I let you guys come back here." All in all, this is just a normal day in Cake Bakes Bakery.
Editing/re-reading through this, I do want to not that the neapolitan comment was for a different piece I was working on with the Blacklight Gang that I never finished. Not sure I will honestly.
I also want to note that later on it was decided this fairy did in fact hire Drake, taking her dedication to mythology as a good sign. Maybe I'll talk more ababo that a different time, but good news for Drake
No warnings I'm currently aware of.
It's just another normal day in Cake Bakes Bakery.
"No but Cake, listen, legends say you can't tell a fairy your name, so I think it's perfectly reasonable to give a fairy type a fake name."
"You were there for a job interview," Cake sighs tiredly, shaking her head at her excitable friends misadventures. She takes a sip of tea before continuing, "you told her your name was Gwendolyn, Drake, and told her 'I know better than to take that' when she offered you something to drink. That's normal for a job interview."
"You're not supposed to accept gifts from fae or drink or eat their food. This is basic level stuff Cake, I've told you this before." Drake huffs, voice high and nasally and exasperated, as it's been the whole time since they got back from their interview. They look down though, hand fiddling with the cup of cocoa, Cake knowing that they are in fact heart broken at not getting a call back. There's not much Cake can do other than offer support. "It's not my fault fairies are kind of scary."
"Is this like the time you told me dragons abandon their first born, so dragon types were just abandoned dragon kids, but you couldn't find anything saying that to prove it to me? I'd like to read this fae lore." Cakes voice is light and humoured, and Drake instantly gains back their energy. Of course they do, mythology is their one true passion.
"No no no! This I can prove! Hold on!" They get up hurriedly, almost knocking over their drink in the process, and run up the stairs to Cakes room. It's sort of Drake's room too, but they insist it won't be much longer cake doesn't mind though, they enjoy their company.
Cake glances around, noting the four current occupants of her bakery. A tumor type who is varying degrees of purple chatters quietly in a corner with a folded eared cat type who she is certain dyed their whiskers bright pink. Is that possible, who knows, but they both come in once a week to catch up and eat half a cake between them, so she won't complain. Not far from them sits a paint type, bobbing its head to music and sketching something in a notebook while picking at a croissant. Three times a week, spend two hours at least and change up their order monthly, Cake and her have had talks about problems in the media and its portrayal of certain types, but they don't watch a lot of the same stuff. She's just getting around to the Gladiator type by the front, napping with headphones in, they don't need to sleep but apparently he wants to today, when Drake stumbles down the stairs.
"I found it!" It's their favorite book, well worn binfing with cat eared pages and sticky notes highlighting the best parts, and they effortlessly flip to the page on faires. "Here here! Read this cake!"
She starts reading, and does in fact find something about not giving fae your name, when a new cat enters the building, grabbing a chair and blocking the door while yelling at someone who knocks on the door. Looking up cake sighs, shaking her head while watching the Citrus type stand on the chair to yell out the window at the top of the door.
"You are not getting any coins from me Prophet! Do you hear me! Go away they are mine!" Parsimonious, an active coin collector who doesn't let anyone touch it's collection, and Prophet, a facebank who wanders around the area. He's actually pretty nice, comes in sometimes when its busy to help clean tables, but Parsimonious and him have a long history together and it's not good. This happens almost every other day.
Prophet stops knocking eventually, and Cake recognizes the sound of him slapping his cheeks and stifles a laugh. Parsimonious gets worked up so easily. Speaking of the Citrus type, it hops off the chair and turns to her, and she nods in silent agreement. It grabs three cookies from the counter and comes to sit by them, looking at the page the book is on. "You didn't get the job did you?"
"They told the Fairy Type their name was Gwendolyn and nearly poured a glass of water on their head."
"How am I supposed to know if I can trust them? What if they're s normal fairy disguised as a tcp?!"
"Drake, this is the third time something like this has happened." Cake's tone is stern, and Parsimonious watches with intent amusement at the duo. Cake stays firm, voice not wavering as Drake gives her a desperate look. "I'm thinking maybe you should go see someone."
"Nooooo. I don't want to." Drake crosses their arms over their chest, slumping in their chair. "You just dont understand."
It's then that the bell rings, signaling the door being opened. Wasn't that blocked? The trio all perk up to see the gladiator type, tail dragging behind him, exit the building, and Prophet enter. Parsimonious bangs its head on the table and quietly screams into its arm as Prophet waddles up, standing next to them and slapping its cheeks. Cake asked one time why it never talks to Parsimonious, and Prophet responded that it had once told him it liked facebanks better who didn't talk. He could at least respect that wish.
Their relationship is complicated. Has Cake mentioned they are actually neighbors? By choice even, they looked for apartments near each other.
Parsimonious gives in to the cheek slapping, pulling a coin out of its pocket and throwing it for Prophet to catch in his mouth. He waddles around to the other side of the table and bats at Cake's wallet in her pocket, and she responds by patting his head and giving him several coins. He then waddles out of the bakery in a way that Cake assumes is cheerful.
"I hate that guy so much." Parsimonious does not in fact hate that guy, Cake knows it. It would be lost without him. Parsimonious was inconsolable when Prophet had ended up in the infirmary one time due to an accident, it hadn't been around to see what happened and it blamed itself for his pain. Really he shouldn't have taken coins from a revenge type. Parsimonious turns to her, seemingly reading her mind while she sips her tea quietly. She knows when to shut her mouth. "Your boyfriend painted himself the colors of neapolitan icecream in his latest commercial, if you didn't see."
"He's not my boyfriend!" She's not panicking, that's an exaggeration. "We're just friends. And he brings me flowers. And chocolates. And we went to see a movie a few times." She crosses her arms and turns her head away from her snickering friends. "You both should bee happy I let you guys come back here." All in all, this is just a normal day in Cake Bakes Bakery.
Editing/re-reading through this, I do want to not that the neapolitan comment was for a different piece I was working on with the Blacklight Gang that I never finished. Not sure I will honestly.
I also want to note that later on it was decided this fairy did in fact hire Drake, taking her dedication to mythology as a good sign. Maybe I'll talk more ababo that a different time, but good news for Drake
Give Me Your Coins
