Thus far, everything had been going according to plan. Although, considering the "plan" was the vague idea to rip his way out of the bowels of the underworld and never go back, pretty much anything that wasn't going back to the underworld was all according to plan.
...A more detailed plan might have helped considerably in his first few days when he was walking around as a flaming corpse, but hindsight is 20/20. A couple charms mixed with a whole lotta luck later and he could pass as a (figuratively) flaming ginger. His situation was much improved now that his mere appearance didn't send the locals either screaming or throwing a bucket of seawater onto his head. It was getting to the point where he even felt comfortable wandering around more and more populated areas! Reading about them in things called "news papers" was one thing, but he needed first hand experience with locals if he was to avoid being hunted down and slaughtered so that his soul would return to eternal damnation!
Today, he was going to explore something called a "coffee shop".
The lucain made his way to one such establishment not too far from the park he'd been hiding in for a couple weeks or so. He'd seen people come in and out of this place plenty of times before. What particularly interested him was that sometimes the same person made the pilgrimage at the same time every day! Sometimes multiple times a day! It was fascinating. He tried the door, delighted to find that there were no locks or magic or secret code barring his way from entering.
The scent was what hit him first. Burning plant-based material mixed in with hot milk and sugary substances. It was a rich odor that he found comforting, almost familiar. Perhaps there had been something similar to it the last time he'd been let loose upon the world? He followed his nose to the counter where he noted a short line. It was a simple enough problem for him to navigate. He'd learned what it meant when the living queues up very quickly upon his arrival and learned even more quickly that you can put yourself in mortal peril by not adhering to the silent Law that you must Wait in Line.
Once it was his turn, he carefully laid down the "news paper" he had been carrying with him and patiently awaited further instructions. None of his previous interactions could have prepared him for what came next.
"Hello! How may I help you?" The female behind the counter would probably be considered conventionally attractive, for a fenling. She had a nice smile and seemed genuinely eager to help him. With what matter, however? He was completely lost.
"Um, yes!" Ok, ok, he could do this. He would not be kicked out of this establishment. He desperately looked up at the board behind the female, reading... gibberish. It was all gibberish. He could see what was probably supposed to be drink sizes, but the actual names the sizes were given meant nothing to him in the context of drinks. There were words listed that looked to be a foreign language, but not one he was familiar with which was
impossible since he knew pretty much every language.
He wasn't proud to admit it, but he froze. It was an accomplishment, considering his nature. After a while, cracks in the female's sunny smile started to appear. It wasn't long before she prompted him with a hesitant, "...Sir?" as if that would snap him out of his confusing.
No one was more surprised than him when that did, in fact, work.
"Yes! Sorry, I just want a hot... uh. Water?" His eyes snapped from the board to her face. Unbeknownst to himself, the look on his face in that instant could be described as nothing short of imploring.
"Hot water... for... tea?" The female offered slowly, may her heart never know the fiery torment of hell. Someone, she had regained the semblance of a helpful smile. He found himself nodding along with her suggestion, having temporarily lost control of his neck muscles, only for him to freeze once again as she asked, "What size?"
Luckily for the both of them, he recovered fairly quickly. "Whatever accounts for medium, if you please. I, uh, I do have currency."
"That'll be $2.70!" She said cheerily, maintaining the appropriate customer service smile during the currency exchange and directing him towards another end of the bar where he was to await his drink. He stood there, perhaps more still than the living could successfully manage for a prolonged period of time, but he found that if he tried to relax he began fraying the edges of his "news paper" and he hadn't finished reading it yet.
When his drink finally arrived, he grabbed it quickly, after tucking the paper under his chin, and hobbled over to a nearby low table with comfortable-looking cushioned seating. He lowered himself onto one of the cushions with a sigh, placing his tea on the table and unfolding his "news paper" next to it. He frowned down at both objects for a moment before shrugging to himself. So far, this venture was largely successful. He believed that next time, he'd easily be able to list one of the gibberish words off the board and see what the barista ended up handing him at the other end of the bar. A simple task, now that he was familiar with it. In fact, many of his encounters thus far have been centered around exchanging currency for both essentials and nonessentials. He'd have to look into getting more currency soon, if this kept up.
But for now, he could sit here and read his paper and try his... This was supposed to be
hot tea? He frowned down at the cup he'd just sipped from, judging the temperature to be lukewarm at
best. These mortals had such dull senses for such things. Luckily, he didn't find it necessary to cause a fuss, this time, since it was easily rectified with a small amount of heat directed into the liquid, taking care to avoid the cup itself.
Now he could sit here and drink his steaming, bubbling tea while reading more "news paper" in peace.