âIonna. What a beautiful name. Seriously, it suits you so well.â Calliope reached over to remove a blackberry from the womanâs shoulder and chuckled. âThat sounds good to me! Honestly, I can probably eat a parfait and then some so letâs see whatâs on the specials.â She waited for Ionna to get herself together with a smile on her face. âThe gym, yeah? I like that. Disciplined. I forgot what a gym looks likeâŚâÂ
Looking around the neighborhood to once again gather her bearings, Calliope was able to quickly figure out where they were and nodded, pointing to the intersection they were meant to cross. âYep! Not too far from here. And Iâm good! You good?âÂ
Calliope pushed her bag back to her back and adjusted the straps before falling into step beside her newest pal. Her smile widened as Ionna spoke about her name. âThatâs right! You know, a lot of people donât know that. They just think my mom was some hippie chick that picked a name out of a movie or something. Which, damn, she was but thereâs more behind it. My mother was obsessed with Greek Mythology so she made me into her mini me and voila!âÂ
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âI get pretty anxious and wound up if I donât go, too much pent up energy,â she chuckled. One would think running a bar would be exhausting, and certainly it was, but it was all mental energy for Ionna. Physical energy was a different resource entirely. It helped that running was fun.
âI think Iâm good, yeah,â they nodded, falling into step with the foot traffic around them, sinking into the familiar for a moment.
âDo you have a favourite story, then? I imagine sheâs told you more than a few, considering.â
The cafe was pretty cute, all things considered. A chalk-art signboard was perched outside, advertising a seasonal special, and there were little glass jars of flowers placed with care on the two outdoor tables where patrons sat with their coffee or snack. The inside was very industrial, though the owner had tried to soften it up a bit with silk flower arrangements hanging from some of the beams at the ceiling. Very artistique, in an almost pretentious sort of way. But that was less important at the moment compared to the whole reason theyâd walked over there in the first place.
Ionna picked up a granola bar and a small bag of what appeared to be gummy bears, looking the packaging over for a moment before deciding that they were worth at least trying.
âYou wanted another parfait, right?â
If your characterâs in a bad mood, do they prefer to be left alone or have someone try to cheer them up?
Ionna tends to prefer to be alone with Pingu, but even they admit that sometimes they need help processing or comfort. itâs hard to be upset when you have a fluffy dog giving kisses. Sometimes, though, you need to go for a run to cool off. Or you need a friend, some good cannolis, and some dumb movie.
How do they deal/have they dealt with conflict in their relationships with others, past or present?
Itâs taken a lot of mishandled conflict for Ionna to learn not only her limits, but that others have them too. And sometimes you just have to feel what youâre going to feel before you can talk about it honestly. Her relationship with her parents is evidence of this.
When she was initially contemplating dropping nursing school, they fought pretty regularly. They were supposed to be setting an example, after all. And wasnât she just so sure when she started? This was a huge commitment. What was the plan? Did she have one? Was she sure?
They only wanted the best for their child, but it initially felt like a personal slight to suddenly reject such a significant investment.
Ionna felt betrayed by their disappointment.
It was weeks before everything was outlined properly. They decided to present a business plan, a draft of the one she was intending to use for her applications for licensure and permits. The family was able to talk it out properly at that point, and move on, but it took work.
Who or what is your character currently proudest of? Why?
Ionnaâs pretty proud of herself. She had a dream and she built it and while it doesnât always thrive, it is surviving. And she gets to run her business her way, and has the support to do the parts that she wants to do the most. Supposedly, itâs the american dream.
Explain why your character has moved to/stayed in NYC?
She got familiar with the city initially when she started doing her internships with non-profits and charities in between semesters of college. There was (and is) so much need, and while they know thereâs need everywhere, they had the connections there to start building their dream of running a point of contact for resources and help out of a bar.
Was it crazy? Absolutely.
Would she do it differently? Absolutely not.
If your character was having a bad day, which of these would they prefer as a means to cheer them up? Their favorite dish, a massage, or some space?
Food. Hands down. No question. Ionna loves food. And wine. But mostly food. Her family was pretty quick to instill that particular love. Family dinners. All-out feasts for holidays and festivals whenever possible. Teaching the basics of cooking at a young age.
Her grandmaâs spanakopita is one of the best savory comfort foods.
Thereâs a section of the menu dedicated to Greek cuisine thatâs often designed by Ionna, and like most of the menu, is adjusted seasonally to compensate for the local farms and business support.
What usually jump starts their day? Coffee? Exercise? A Shower? Breakfast? Or something else entirely?
Pingu decides how and, often, when the morning starts. Morning walkies is sometimes morning joggies. And then a shower, unless itâs a gym day.
Does your character thrive in order or chaos?
They eat most flavours of chaos for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but even they have their limits. Theyâre very grateful for their office staff who tend to handle the Order of the bar a bit better.
Would your character say that their parents were/are good at being parents?
Their late twenties into their thirties came with a certain change of perspective. Her parents were definitely parents. Sometimes their choices sucked, but their hearts were in the right places and they never meant any harm. They werenât bad, but they definitely had the practice to deal with her baby sister and have, in Ionnaâs mind, done a lot better in some respects.
What scares your character the most?
After losing her bar? Internally? Being alone. Or having to face hardship alone. They put so much of themselves out into the world that the worst feeling in the world would be to not have anyone there when they need someone most.
What did the last relationship your character was in teach them?
If they make repeated, passive aggressive comments about your profession, it probably runs as a deeper problem and they can either figure it out and get over it, or itâs time to move on. Itâs just not worth the time wasted combating their negative fixation on something thatâs a core part of her life.
If your character could choose 1 superpower, what would it be and why?
I think sheâd want to be super fast. Or the ability to read minds.
Whatâs something people often misunderstand about your character?
Socially, sheâs very awkward without meaning to be, and itâs not really because sheâs poorly practiced or anything in particular. They have just ended up three or four steps ahead in the conversation (in her head), and assume the other person has managed to stay on the same page when theyâre two and a half pages behind because thatâs how time and conversations work.
What is something your character tends to procrastinate on?
Paperwork. Itâs boring. Itâs not pointless but it feels obvious. Itâs necessary. But itâs still boring to such a degree it should be a sin. Ionna doesnât know what to do when all of her office staff end up having vacations or emergencies all at the same time.
Well. She does. She just hates doing it so it takes three times as long as it really should.
Where does your character like to go/what does your character like to do for inspiration?
When sheâs working on menus, they tend to throw âparties.â They are less party and more test bed for future food or drink items. But the guests donât necessarily know that. It does mean they tend to happen more at season change time once she knows what fresh produce will be available.
Thereâs always a big spread of lunch and dinner samples, and she tends the bar herself on the condition that itâs dealerâs choice on the drink.
Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesnât.
They still havenât gotten the mulled pumpkin spice mead to work out properly and havenât figured out why.
Does your character usually follow their head or their heart?
They lean pretty heavily on their heart to start, but the head does catch up to whatâs going on eventually and evens the keel.
Who or what brings your character the most joy in their life today?
Pingu for a who, though Calliope is always a delight to be around. Who condensed sunshine and infused it with that girl?
She also really loves it when a client whoâs been referred to support services comes back to visit in a better position than when theyâd initially stumbled into their bar. Itâs not necessarily a reminder of why they do what they do, but it does bolster their resolve to keep going.
Does your character have a hero or someone they admire or look up to? If so, who and why?
With the perspective of proper adulthood, Ionnaâs really come around to admiring her parents. Theyâve worked really hard to build what they have, and they didnât succumb to the desire to continue expanding and end up over-stretching themselves. They decided what they were going to do and how much they wanted to put into it and what they wanted out of it, and then they didnât give in to the pull to do more than that.
From a business owner perspective, that seems like such an easy trap to fall into. Ionna does want to keep expanding the supports available, yes, but she doesnât want to fall into the trap of having multiple locations for the sake of profit. Thatâs not what sheâs here for. Sheâs here to help, to be a safe place for folks to have a good time, and to treat her employees well.
Is your character much of a reader? If so, what author(s) do they like?
Theyâre less for literature and more for recipe books. But books, not necessarily websites with inane blog posts that drone on for twelve paragraphs too long. Other how-tos are also appreciated, since they like to at least try and do things on their own.
Does your character like surprises? How do they tend to react to surprises?
Ionna likes nice surprises. Less so surprises from Pingu since those are often smelly, if few and far between.
Gifts are pretty important to them, for a lot of occasions. Itâs not necessarily common in American culture, so whenever anyone remembers itâs a joy and tends to leave her impressed for a good while afterward.
Is there anything that your character collects? If so, what is it/what are they?
They have a sizeable collection of corks from favoured bottles of wine or bottles from special occasions. Eventually they want to turn it into a table, but they donât have enough yet.
Luis blinked, just trying to process. He couldnât tell if the stranger was trying to hit on him, or just trying to be friendly. The line between them already was small, and neither was something that Luis was familiar with.Â
âI donât think pleasant is a word anyone would ever use to describe me or my feelings,â Luis countered, which was probably true - though he had to admit that he was intrigued. He wasnât sure if it was a good or bad type of intrigued, but enough that he wanted to find out exactly what was going on. âActually I am free now,â he said, âI donât think Iâve been to the Wayfinder.âÂ
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Ionna, honestly, wasnât sure where the lines were either. If sheâd thought about it, it was probably more of a blank page than a colouring sheet. But even blank paper needed ink.
âThereâs only a handful of people I could believe to be genuinely unpleasant, and I donât think youâre one of them,â they stated matter-of-factly, and they even went so far as to point somewhat emphatically. Very few people were genuinely unpleasant. And even then sometimes it was just a little TLC to soften them up and let them come out of whatever defensive shells theyâd built.
âItâs a neat little place. Or, at least I think so. But Iâm unquestionably biased,â she said, motioning with a small wave of her hand to suggest that they start walking. Her voice small, she continued, âI kind of work there.â
Quinton stood near the curb, phone to his ear while finishing up a call. His driver was apologizing for his tardiness and assured Quinton that he would be there as soon as possible. As he lowered the device back into his suit jacketâs inner pocket with one hand, he started to sip on his smoothie, only to be jostled unexpectedly by a passerby.
Being born and raised in NYC, he could usually prepare himself with a retort if the person didnât say something to him first. When she did, however, he had no trouble righting himself while shaking his head, âItâs fine. No harm done.â He cracked his signature lop-sided smile and lazily gestured to himself to emphasize his own words and then said to them, âHard as it might be, you might wanna pocket your phone though. Especially on these streets.â
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She blinked for a brief moment before noting that her gym leggings just.. did not have pockets. But the gym bag existed. âYouâre correct, but usually itâs not a problem - uh-â Ionna side-stepped out of the way of someone behind her who, funnily enough, also was not paying attention to where they were walking.
âDâyou ever wish you had like.. a physical bubble of personal space? Actually,â they paused, looking him over briefly, âyou probably do have the equivalent of that, huh?â
Good thing the smoothie hadnât spilled, given the threads he seemed to wear casually and as if it were the most familiar thing in the world. âYour smoothieâs fine, right? Like - I donât owe you one or anything??â
Calliope looked over to the unfortunate puddle of Vanilla Greek Yogurt and the five blackberries sitting on top. Sheâd sigh sadly if it didnât mean making this poor stranger feel worse than she probably already felt.Â
Iâm glad no people were harmed in the making of this incident.â She chuckled and also moved out of other peopleâs way. âDonât be sorry. Really. I wasnât paying attention either!âÂ
She nodded in response to the womanâs question and then shook her head. âNo no! donât be silly! Sounds like youâre having aâŚday!â She offered her a friendly smile and pulled her backpack to her chest to rummage for napkins and hand sanitizer. âHere, letâs get cleaned up maybe we can get two of those to make up for the day and the loss?â She began cleaning her hands after handing the napkins to the woman. âOh! Iâm Calliope by the way. Who do I have the pleasure of literally bumping in to?âÂ
Oh! At least this lovely stranger had a sense of humour about the whole thing. It wasnât overly common, but it was certainly a breath of fresh air and put Ionna more at ease.
Accepting a napkin and looking herself over to try and find any specs of yogurt, she, too, proceeded to try to clean up. âIonna - Ionna Foti. Think Iâll get some granola instead of yogurt. Was heading to the gym,â they chuckled.
âThereâs like, a cafe around the corner, right? Or something. There is something food-shaped around the corner, I just canât remember what off the top of my-â she seemed to zone out for a moment before nodding assuredly.
-head.. Thereâs a cafe around the corner.â
There wasnât a trashcan immediately accessible, but she didnât find that to be a problem. The cafe would have one, anyway. âYou good?â There was just enough of an opening in the foot traffic for the both of them if they were ready.
âYou probably know, but Calliope was often depicted as one of the muses, though which one she was depended on the telling of the story. Though being the mother of Orpheus is consistent.â
Luis wasnât used to people approaching him. He didnât mind, his general air made him rather unapproachable and he was more than happy to lean into that when necessary. New York wasnât a place where people typically tried to make friends on the street - people were too busy going to and fro that actually stopping and talking to a stranger was the exception and not the rule.Â
âWhatâs in it for you?â he asked, eyeing them suspiciously as they managed to figure out what he was most likely to drink.
.
âSatisfaction, mostly,â and being right, of course. Though it was equally possible that this relative stranger would be off-put even if she was right. Or especially if she was right. It was hard to predict specific outcomes.
âYou seemed like you could use a little cherry-ing up, and lifeâs too short to be- well, whatever it is youâre feeling that doesnât seem pleasant right now, letâs put it that way.â
Swung, and missed. Probably. Ionna still was rather proud of her attempt at joke, however poor it may have been.
A thought crossed her mind and there was an inhale, posture straightening, hands joining in mild gesticulation, though she grew a bit more sheepish as they continued. âOh! I- this doesnât have to be right now! Sorry- youâre probably busy working. The Wayfinderâs not too far from here - though I guess Google exists. I could meet you there âround six? Or- or whenever works.â
He didnât say no before, anyway. It didnât hurt to ask.
Luis hated meetings. He especially hated long meetings with vendors who clearly did not know what they were talking about. The man wasnât sure why he had decided to take it in the first place - he had been happy with his casket vendor, but at the same time it had been worth it to see if it was possible to get them from a different company for a cheaper price which would leave him with more profitâŚbut the quality definitely explained why the price was cheaper.Â
And apparently ending the meeting early was considered rude when the quality wasnât anywhere near what people who came to him expected. Not that it really mattered, he had no plans of talking to this company ever again.
After walking a few blocks, he stopped, leaning against the nearest building as he debated whether or not he wanted to pull out a cigarette. It was easy enough to people watch that way, even though in some ways it was hard for Luis to see people as people and not as his potential next clients. But he sensed immediately when someone noticed him, glancing over as they walked toward him - and Luis couldnât help but hope that they hadnât followed him from his meeting. Or worse, they actually had and were going to try and convince him to give the company another shot. âCan I help you?â he asked, trying not to give too much away.Â
Five, four, three, two.. Ah. There he was. The face that kept turning up right there in dreams over the last few nights, dour look and all. Right on time, to boot. Ionna was still adjusting to the minutia of the dreams; they used to be more vague but sometimes, like this one, they were very specific. She hadnât figured out the thread just yet, but had to push the thought aside for a hopefully casual approach.
âI think itâs less you can help me and more maybe I can offer you something,â She was attempting to put forward a more business-inclined tone, but it wasnât solid enough to be believable for anyone with actual experience in a formal setting.
âYou just seem like youâre having A Day - can I buy you a drink? Something to take the edge off, maybe,â she mused, thinking for a moment and then suddenly looking very pleased with themselves. âI know of a place with a seasonal cherry beer if youâre so inclined.â
When will McDonaldâs bring back the parfait? It was Calliopeâs gripe of the day (and trust, she had those often). It would make her life so much better instead of having to spend a gazillion dollars (really, 6 bucks) on a parfait in some fancy cafĂŠ in gentrified Queens. But, whatever. Thatâs what she gets for not going food shopping over the weekend. She could have made herself one of these for a lot less.Â
Another day, another client and Calliope wanted to give a great first impression to the youngster sheâd be mentoring over the summer. With her head in the clouds and a spoon in her mouth, Calliope didnât realize until it was too late that there was an incoming human. âOh craâ!â and down went her plastic spoon and yogurtâŚeverywhere.Â
âShe looked down at her overalls and couldnât help but laugh at the situation âuh. I meanâŚitâs just yogurt, am I right? Are you okay? Did I get any on you?âÂ
Splat. Unceremonious. Squishy. Wet. At least it wasnât on either of them, but a quick moment of processing spotted a splatter on someone elseâs shoes. Ah well. Thatâll be their problem later, she figured.
âIâm uh- Iâm good, I think - so sorry,â Ionna continued, stepping around the squishy and probably-warming puddle of goo now on the sidewalk to try and get out of the general flow of foot traffic. Nothing was more annoying than someone stopping in front of you, after all.
âDisposable spoon, right? Can i get you anything to replace it? The- the snack, I mean, not necessarily just the spoon-â Gods above and below. Normally they wouldnât be so flustered, but it was just one of those days.âGuess itâs what I get for looking at my phone, huh?â Her tone was dry, most likely out of disappointment in herself. It doesnât do to not pay attention on New York streets, after all.
Ionna plodded casually down the sidewalk, checking her phone with one hand for just a moment between glances at the rest of the traffic around her, both vehicular and on foot.
It was certainly annoying, having the gym bag slung over their shoulder being jostled constantly, but people in close proximity was just a Fact of New York. You either got used to it or you left. But that didnât make it any less annoying.
It was one of those phone-glancing moments where, in an attempt to narrowly duck around a light pole that they ended up stumbling into another person, swearing all the way. Stupid spotify ads.
âAh, fuck - Iâm sorry - you didnât spill any-â
Oh gods on a cracker. Why is everyone cute? It was the briefest of moments before they composed themselves and continued their sentence.
He was too fluffy for this. Even with a double coat that was supposed to help, it was too hot. Ionna knew this. Ionna also knew that the A/C in the apartment wasnât keeping up as well as the bar, and even the bar was struggling in the mid-day heat. This building was old and wasnât as well-insulated as it shouldâve been, but that was the downside of the property.
The fans were running as high as they could. Ionnaâs hair was up in something akin to a messy bun but it really looked more like a rabid furby at this point. Everything was sticky, and while she didnât mind the heat, they did mind the sticky. The otterpop (popcicle in a plastic tube) hanging out of her mouth was a nice distraction for the moment, but it wasnât going to last.
Pinguâs suffering, however, would if she didnât do something about it. And so, a small corner of the bar was blocked off with the equivalent of baby gates, big, worn towels were strewn across the floor and a kiddy pool atop those.
He was meant for snow and cold. Walks in the winter could turn into a nightmare if he decided he wanted to lay in the old snow instead of come inside. And this was a bar. Ice was, for now, aplenty. And with a grunt, she hefted three large bags of ice over to what was now Pinguâs corner, situated on the entrance wall next to the Community Services office. Their liason could peek out the window and check on him, if they wanted.
The plastic bags were torn open with teeth and unceremoniously dumped into the blue, fish-patterned kiddie pool with a ruckus, and she whistled for Pingu who was patiently waiting by the stairs.
âCâmon, you big baby. Itâs your favourite thing.â
Sheâd be lying if she said she didnât chuckle a little at the excited sprint into his temporary but fortunately now-chilly pen. Heâd quite likely stay there until it was time for either food or a walk, but either way he was quite content to lay on his frozen bed, happily panting away.
âSorry about the noise, folks - and the wait,â she continued, walking back towards the bar, first to wash her hands and then to take her usual position at the behind the bar, making sure to toss the now-empty otterpop tube in the trash somewhere below the countertop. âCan I get you anything in particular? Weâre not real keen on alcohol this early in the day with this heat - itâs dangerous, but you want what you want.â
The menus were both above the barback and on the counter, with several columns dedicated to different types of beverages, ranging from water, juice, soda - though mostly coke products if itâs not locally produced, wine, beer on tap, beer off tap, mixed drinks and cocktails, and the list went on. There was a separate menu for food including a few lunch specials, but most of it was hot food, and, well, it was already seventy-four degrees in there.
âWe also have popcicles,â she mentioned, pointing to an awkwardly placed, probably new freezer stuffed absolutely full with boxes of Otterpops.Â
Pingu kept pawing at her feet, distracting her her from her work in such a way that sheâd had to remake at least two different drinks in the last several minutes. Her coworker at the bar, Marcus, kept glancing over enough that sheâd noticed.Â
It occurred to Ionna that maybe she shouldâve been counting her boons better, because now Pingu was whining and the light-headedness was difficult to ignore.
âCan I get a-â
âIâm.. sorry - I need to step off for a minute but someone will be with you in just a moment.â She gestured for her dog to come out from under his cubby under the bar and slipped into the back half of the bar, the fluffy pup hot on her heels. They had a policy of having an extra pair of hands on shift when Ionna worked, just in case. Julie was the person of the evening; she doubled as as a cook when not on bar, and Ionna made it a point to summon her before slowly making her way to the employee bathrooms.
Having a body sucked sometimes.
The phone in her back pocket buzzed unceremoniously, one of the managers checking in.
U good?
>No, I think Iâm tapped.
Kk. Go home if u need.
>Yeah. Gotta find a ride, dont think i can drive.
Lmk if u need in 20 min
>Kk
She made it a point to at least carefully splash some water on her face. Taking a moment to sit in the chair along one of the empty walls, Ionna sifted through her contacts. She hadnât meant to open his conversation window, but there it was. Pingu whined at her feet again, nuzzling at her ankles, prompting her to decide. âAlright, alright, bean.â
>Hey, Rhys. Pingo wants me to tell you hi. I also would like to say hi. So hi.
>Pingo? Phone pls. PingU
>Are you busy?
Not particularly, no
>Would you like to be super cool and pick me up from work? I am evidently too sick to drive >.>