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(( Coffee shop prompts. You know them, you love them, and much like actual coffee shops, you can find them absolutely everywhere. This one features Alpha Dave, and I’m looking for Rose, Dirk, Roxy, Karkat, Aradia, and Feferi to play an employee, another patron, or an associate of Dave’s. Other characters are fine too, and if you want to win my undying love, play a fellow guardian. Let me know if you have questions and thanks for reading. ))
Being worshiped really did a number on a guy's ego.
Now, coming from some schlub off the street, the term would probably either be massively inflated or outright bullshitting, but for one Dave Strider, it was the closest thing he could come to absolute accuracy. Right, sure, nobody prostrated on the pavement when he walked by (except for a couple of folks he was weirdly certain would try following him home), and okay, maybe he wasn't besieged with declarations of everlasting fealty (once again, except for those few who probably belonged in police custody before anything unfortunate happened), but nonetheless. He was nothing if not a star. A visionary. In a world where most folks wouldn't even bother remembering a director's name unless he produced The Last Airbender or had an entirely unwarranted love for explosions and gritty manpain, he became a cultural icon. Certainly prolific enough to be awash with attention, even if it wasn't from the traditional "worshiping" sort.
Not yet in his thirties (despite what tabloids would tell you) and becoming the doting parent of a massive movie franchise damn-near singlehandedly tended to get a guy noticed, and for Dave that meant grueling schedules, constant flight-hopping, and waging subtle warfare on those that were after his money, his fame, or his control over one of the biggest cash cows in Hollywood history, and he was giving none of that up without a fight. He bore the pressure well, shrugging most everything off with a sardonic smile that was barely there and a snide one-liner out of the many cooked up to keep people both entertained and quiet about his methods.
Eccentric. Flighty. Master of the stylistically shitty and a peculiar brand of off-the-wall humour that saturated everything he touched. Not such a bad gig, if he said so himself. None of this was entirely untrue, but neither was it the whole story when it came to wrapping up the hotshot director in a neat and tidy little box. If he played up certain attention-grabbing aspects of his personality to baffle the public, it meant he could continue on with more covert operations behind the scenes, and it suited Dave just fine.
Finally settled in one spot for a brief respite, Dave had pleaded creative needs as a means to catch a break from the high life. Officially, he was in on the business of preparing a script for the upcoming SBAHJ Chrismusd Specaol, but the amount of time it took him to whip up a few hundred pages of steaming bullshit and call it art was negligible. It was finally a period where he could kick back and waste all the time he wanted goofing off, holed up like some hermit far away from the splendor of the West Coast and only communicating through phone calls and emails with his staff. If he never saw the inside of another plane smelling of sweat, baby vomit, and a lifetime of sadness it would be far too soon.
This cafe was high on the list of his frequent haunts. That list, incidentally, was about the size of a Post-It Note, which meant it was pretty much his only frequent haunt. Spending so much time cooped up in the lavish apartment near smack-dab in the middle of the city (a getaway home, he called it) wasn't good for his health or his social skills, or at least that's what his long-suffering assistant claimed after a two-hour chat about the mysteries of life, the universe, and everything at three in the morning. Fulfilling his duty as functional member of society meant occasionally taking his "work" with him on a jaunt just down the street to a cosy cafe nestled in between the probable six other Starbucks all on opposing street corners.
Dave was settled comfortably at a small table situated nearest to the front counter, spending enough time surrounded by coffee beans and baking pastries for the smell to practically cling to him. There was a reason that every hipster douche came to a coffee shop to nurse his "creative inspiration" (as well as a Pumpkin Spice Latte), and he found that it worked wonders on unwinding, even when he was pushed to actually making progress on his script to appease colleagues expecting results.
"I'll take one of those caramel lattes with almond milk. Can't deal with that soy shit. And an order of those chicken curry wraps, since it looks like I'll be calling this the Casa de Strider for the day. I tell you, it's a goddamn tragedy that they've got me on standby just in case they need their monkey with a typewriter to reach down and handle his own fecal matter before splattering the shit across the walls, but hell, I hear jump and all I gotta ask is how high."
Being so close to the counter spelled the endless opportunity to have every single one of his long-winded rambles, complaints, and even attempts at a heartfelt feelings jam heard, either by an employee or an unwitting patron of the cafe. Okay, so maybe he'd earned a bit of a reputation around these parts, but to those who knew his face and recognised him as somebody famed for his eccentricities as well as his success, it should come as little surprise. Or so he told himself and others that had mentioned him becoming a public nuisance. The fun thing about fame? It allowed you to get away with so much shit.
"Can I get some service around here? Fuck's sake, I bare my soul and not even a blink but the least y'all could do is make with the curry wraps. I'm about to start hopping behind the counter and fixing my own foodstuff over here."
2016-05-15 02:34:29 -
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Karkat sighed. Fucktards... All of them. He was forced to word overtime because they couldn't do shit. He handed Dave his order. And turned right as his fellow worker dropped a few dishes and caught them. "As hard as it is for your seemingly small mind to comprehend, please do your job." He said.
2016-05-15 03:18:15 -
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● ended the chat.
2016-05-15 03:42:39