Getting back from work (open)

[Morph]

Heading home back from work, Morph stopped by a small cafe and went inside to get some coffee to go. Work was routine, but at least it kept him from thinking about other matters... and sometimes even made him forget who he was, human or mutant. He needed some coffee to refresh himself after a long day.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro stepped into the cafe seeking shelter in the middle of Manhattan. He had come to buy more supplies from that particularly store, and three more bottles of vodka, and that was when another patron mistook him for Magneto. Admittedly he had lost his temper, but who could blame him? He only realized it was a cafe after ducking inside, and now wondered how many painfully long moments he would need to wait before he could leave.::

[Morph]

When you're in a small room, every change in the surroundings makes you pay attention. Morph turned at the sound of the door opening and closing, faintly curious about who would walk in - small cafes always provided for a more interesting set of customers than larger ones.

There was a silver-haired young man there; Morph wondered whether it was a dye or a mutant feature - these days, one never knew, and he himself had long learned not to trust appearances, starting with his own.

He turned away again, watching how the girl behind the counter, dull expression on her face, put a paper cup into the machine and pressed a button for coffee to fill it.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro took a split moment to study his surroundings; there were few people in this cafe, including a man who had, for a moment been glancing at him. Pietro did not recognize the other man, which meant it was possible that, with Gambit, it was a mutant who knew he and his sister somehow. Or far more likely noticed a resemblance but was thankfully too polite to mention it. He studied the order list for a moment, decided he might as well drink something, and stepped behind the other man on line.::

[Morph]

The girl returned to the counter; getting some money out to pay, Morph stepped slightly aside, letting the other man know that he could order while Morph was paying.

He placed two dollar bills on the counter and got a small plastice package of cream from a bowl on the counter.

"Oh, that'd be another fifty cents, sir," the girl said.

Morph fixed his glance on her. "Since when?" he asked - in most places he got coffee to go from, those plastic cream packages were mostly either for free, or included in the price. And the human girl in front of him didn't look like someone he'd overlook it for.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro had paid only marginally attention to the event in front of him. Generally, he did not meddle in these sorts of affairs. However, he was also impatient with lines and in no mood to stand and listen to an argument over small business policies. He reached into his pocket and set two quarters down on the counter beside the other man's two single bills. That should put an end to it.::

[Morph]

Before the girl could reply, the silver-haired man put two quarters on the counter.

Morph moved his eyes from the girl to the quarters to the man. "Is this to imply that I don't have fifty cents to pay?" he inquired.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::That question led Pietro to another he had asked himself over the years. The question of "why bother?" He knew nothing of the other man, aside from the fact that he valued the principle or the money more than the time it would take to argue. Pietro simply could not stay still and patient enough to let him take that time. His accent betrayed him, as it often did when he was already frustrated:: "I imply nothing."

[Morph]

He implied nothing, yet there was some reason he put his money on the counter. Morph stared at the ceiling for a second, thinking, then decided neither the idiotic coffee girl nor the cream were worth his after-work time and relative calmness. He simply got his cup of coffee, not taking the milk, and went towards the door.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro was thirty now; sixteen-years-later and he still needed his sister by his side to speak for him. He imagined this could have been avoided if she had been here with him. Not that he faulted the other man for growing frustrated with this; if it was a sore area, it would cause frustration. And Pietro Maximoff was hardly a poster-boy for anger management himself. Still, he was tired of making enemies everywhere he went, particularly after Salem Center had become spectacularly spoiled by bigots from that class, so he quickly took back his money, stepped out of line, and followed the other man.:: "Herr."

[Morph]

Morph didn't recognize it as a form of address, but turned around at the sound of voice. He saw the man from the line - again. "Yes?" he asked.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro was not used to apologizing for his actions, not unless major harm was done, and then the apologies were short and followed by the other party often stalking off. Such as with Kyra. Minor offenses were part of life; he was frustrated all of the time and others often were in his presence. However, that did not mean he went out of his way to offend others. More than that, he was tired of enemies, and again, this man had done nothing to him, aside from the minor inconvenience of slowness that accompanied every day life.:: "I meant no offense."

[Morph]

He seemed to be sincere about it, and Morph could only sigh inwardly, regretting having brought such an awkward moment into his day. "No problem," he said and opened the door to leave.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::The disquieting moment seemed to hang in the air. Pietro was used to these sorts of pauses, and the quick escapes. Most conversations he engaged in tended to end this way. He stepped back to let the other man leave, having no desire to feel as though he had caged him in. Yet, the matter seemed unfinished, but he could not conceive of how or why.::

[Morph]

Morph left the cafe and headed to where he had parked his car.