[Freezair]

Amsterdam's tails hung low over the edge of the barstool, his wingblades twitching as he looked down across the counter. The woman he was waiting on had deep bags beneath her eyes, and she busied herself in the menial action of wiping out the inside of a glass. She looked his ways and their eyes met.  

In trying times like this, there was only one thing a man could turn to for solace.

"One extra large latte. Almond milk. And a splash of mocha."

She gave him a wordless nod and turned to the milk taps behind her.

[Freezair]

For the past two weeks now, Amsterdam had been on the hunt for Evelon's missing colors. He'd hitchhiked between cities, hiked through forests, and even gone boating in order to hunt. His pockets were full of the fruits of his labors: a coin from a gutter in Nabias. A vial of water from deep in the Re'nee sea. A packet of soil from Sekudui.

He'd been on his feet, barely sleeping, for nearly twenty days straight. Dogged determination and coffee were the only things keeping him going.

And he'd been doggedly determined to get some coffee, so get some he did.

[Freezair]

A local had recommended this open-air, seaside cafe to him, and he'd dragged himself over post haste. People in coffee shops and cafes had a tendency to gossip as well, which would make this an ideal location for scouting out his next color score.

The barista slid him his coffee, and he shot her some keystones in return. He dipped his head over the lid of the titanic ceramic mug and began delicately lapping at the surface. The drink within was toasty but not bitter, with the flavor made sweet and complex by turbinado sugar. The flavors of chocolate and coffee blended together in perfect harmony.

Exquisite, he thought.

[Freezair]

Amsterdam stopped to lick a cluster of foam off the tip of his nose. He closed his eyes, savoring the smell of the coffee, then opened them to stare back into his cup before continuing.

And stare he did.

Well isn't THAT interesting.

The pale whiteness inside of his cup wasn't quite as white as he'd initially expected. It was a bit hard to see against the pale ceramic body of his mug and the gray linoleum of the cafe countertop, but the more he stared, the more unmistakable it was.

There was some color in his coffee cup.

[Freezair]

There was something more warm and real in the swirls within his cup. A touch of yellow, or orange perhaps--something sandy and dusty. One might even call it cream-colored... though of course, he'd gotten almond milk.

He looked towards the barista. "Barista," he said, and the barista turned her head to look at him. "Could I get a small black coffee, please? With cream and sugar on the side, if that's alright."

The barista shrugged. "Sure thing," she said. And she poured him two separate cups, one of coffee and one of cream.

[Freezair]

Amsterdam paid for his second beverage and pushed it near with his paws. He considered pushing his latte to the side at first... but it pained him to ignore good coffee for so long. He slurped up the remaining coffee quickly, lamenting that he couldn't savor it, before turning to his experiment.

The coffee in his mug was truly black. The bubbles clinging to the side of the cup were a featureless gray instead of the translucent brown they usually were. Meanwhile, the cream in the other cup was entirely white. It had a few gray edges, not unlike a puffy cloud on an otherwise clear day, but there was no color to be seen in it, either.

[Freezair]

Gently, Amsterdam took the handle of the cream cruet in his mouth, and gently, very gently, he poured a small amount into the coffee cup.

Leafy branches of cream bloomed in the coffee as they always did, but there was something else. At the very edges of the shapes, where the cream and coffee truly mingled, there was a flash of color. A flash of creamy tan poked through the edges of the coffee before being subsumed by blackness.

Amsterdam grabbed a spoon and gave the coffee a stir, but it only turned a lighter shade of gray.

[Freezair]

So there was clearly a science to it; a perfect ratio that brought the colors out.

Amsterdam took it by stages, not wanting to overwhelm the coffee and ruin it, turning the whole thing to white. He poured a little and stirred. He poured a little more and stirred a little more. The coffee turned lighter and lighter shades of gray, until--

There!

And with one stir, the warm, creamy color spread throughout the whole drink. Watching it happen, it was much more obvious. It was if it had been brought back to life.

[Freezair]

It always pained Amsterdam to leave coffee un-drunk. But he was on a mission.

"Excuse me," he said to the barista. She lifted up her head with a bit more irritation than before. Possibly, she was growing weary of this Lucain and his demands. "But could I get some kind of to-go cup for my coffee? Some sort of lid without a hole in it would be nice...

She pointed him to a rack of reusable coffee cups stacked up near their register. To her credit, she seemed surprised when he pulled out even more keystones and bought one on the spot.

[Freezair]

Amsterdam poured some of his perfectly-blended coffee into the travel mug and snapped the lid shut.

But only some of it. He was a man of principles, after all.

In one great lap of his tongue, Amsterdam licked up the small puddle of coffee he'd left at the bottom of the cup. It was toasty, but not overly bitter. What sharp edges the beans had had was mollified by the richness of the cream. The taste was unadorned, but it didn't need much. The lack of sweetness let him truly savor the smoky flavor inherent in the beans, with only the thickness of the cream buoying them up.

Still exquisite, he thought. And the fact that it had color was, to coin a phrase, simply the cream on top.

[Color Harvested]