Charlie's Coffeehouse [Open to Multiple]

[rae_of_sun]

As if to make up for the previous evening's kali horror show, Sunshine's dream is warm and familiar. She's in a bakery - her bakery in her stepdad's coffeehouse, though elements of her new workplace sneak in here and there. She hardly notices the inconsistencies as she churns out trays of muffins and sheets of cookies. Charlie's working the register, Mel's in the kitchen, Mary's waitressing, and her mom is probably in her office giving someone hell over the phone. All is as it should be.

If she knew she was dreaming, she would probably think it fitting that anyone drop in, relax, and eat some cookies (well, okay, if she knew she was dreaming she might not recommend eating anything, but whatever, she breaks that rule all the time). Last night was rough, and people deserve a break - and a toxic sugar concoction or two. As it is, she's not paying any particular attention to the customers as she carries out a tray of Killer Zebras and transfers them into a display case.

Comments

[rae_of_sun]

Sunshine shrugs. "Most of what I liked doesn't exist here," she says. And she's checked. Hell, even the genres need translating; her historical fiction is this universe's gritty urban fantasy.

Plus, her vampire vision has made both reading and tv viewing more taxing than they used to be, so she hasn't availed herself of as much of this universe's entertainment as she normally would have. Not that she wants to get into that - Topher doesn't need to know about the carthaginian sucker specs.

"Um." She scrapes back her hair. "Fantasy, I guess - or it would be classified as 'fantasy' here. That's what I like to read. I honestly haven't watched much TV since I got here, though." Frankly, hauling the television into a closet so she could watch it in total darkness is too much work.

[brink]

"That's a shame," he answers in sympathy for lacking her favourite kinds of fiction. Quite a few of his favourites are missing too, but there's still a large overlap, and then things that didn't exist in his own universe which are excellent and he's been making sure to consume.

"I've got recs if you wanna experience some highlights of this world's television," he offers, leading the way into the cargo bay, big and mostly empty. The giant doors are open at the other end, and they appear to be parked in a grassy field on a warm but comfortably breeze summer's day. Never mind that they were just flying through space a minute ago. Dreams don't have to make that much sense.