“Ionna. What a beautiful name. Seriously, it suits you so well.” Calliope reached over to remove a blackberry from the woman’s shoulder and chuckled. “That sounds good to me! Honestly, I can probably eat a parfait and then some so let’s see what’s on the specials.” She waited for Ionna to get herself together with a smile on her face. “The gym, yeah? I like that. Disciplined. I forgot what a gym looks like…”
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. “Yep! Not too far from here. And I’m good! You good?”
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. “That’s right! You know, a lot of people don’t 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 there’s more behind it. My mother was obsessed with Greek Mythology so she made me into her mini me and voila!”
.
“I get pretty anxious and wound up if I don’t go, too much pent up energy,” 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.
“I think I’m good, yeah,” they nodded, falling into step with the foot traffic around them, sinking into the familiar for a moment.
“Do you have a favourite story, then? I imagine she’s told you more than a few, considering.”
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 they’d 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.
“You wanted another parfait, right?”
If your character’s 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. it’s 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?
It’s 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 you’re 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 wasn’t 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?
Ionna’s pretty proud of herself. She had a dream and she built it and while it doesn’t 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, it’s 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 there’s 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 grandma’s spanakopita is one of the best savory comfort foods.
There’s a section of the menu dedicated to Greek cuisine that’s 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 it’s 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. They’re 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 weren’t bad, but they definitely had the practice to deal with her baby sister and have, in Ionna’s 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 it’s time to move on. It’s just not worth the time wasted combating their negative fixation on something that’s a core part of her life.
If your character could choose 1 superpower, what would it be and why?
I think she’d want to be super fast. Or the ability to read minds.
What’s something people often misunderstand about your character?
Socially, she’s very awkward without meaning to be, and it’s not really because she’s 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 they’re two and a half pages behind because that’s how time and conversations work.
What is something your character tends to procrastinate on?
Paperwork. It’s boring. It’s not pointless but it feels obvious. It’s necessary. But it’s still boring to such a degree it should be a sin. Ionna doesn’t 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 she’s working on menus, they tend to throw “parties.” They are less party and more test bed for future food or drink items. But the guests don’t necessarily know that. It does mean they tend to happen more at season change time once she knows what fresh produce will be available.
There’s always a big spread of lunch and dinner samples, and she tends the bar herself on the condition that it’s dealer’s choice on the drink.
Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t.
They still haven’t gotten the mulled pumpkin spice mead to work out properly and haven’t 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 what’s 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 who’s been referred to support services comes back to visit in a better position than when they’d initially stumbled into their bar. It’s 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, Ionna’s really come around to admiring her parents. They’ve worked really hard to build what they have, and they didn’t 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 didn’t 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 doesn’t want to fall into the trap of having multiple locations for the sake of profit. That’s not what she’s here for. She’s 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?
They’re 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. It’s not necessarily common in American culture, so whenever anyone remembers it’s 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 don’t have enough yet.
Luis blinked, just trying to process. He couldn’t 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.
“I don’t think pleasant is a word anyone would ever use to describe me or my feelings,” Luis countered, which was probably true - though he had to admit that he was intrigued. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad type of intrigued, but enough that he wanted to find out exactly what was going on. “Actually I am free now,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve been to the Wayfinder.”
.
Ionna, honestly, wasn’t sure where the lines were either. If she’d thought about it, it was probably more of a blank page than a colouring sheet. But even blank paper needed ink.
“There’s only a handful of people I could believe to be genuinely unpleasant, and I don’t think you’re one of them,” 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 they’d built.
“It’s a neat little place. Or, at least I think so. But I’m unquestionably biased,” she said, motioning with a small wave of her hand to suggest that they start walking. Her voice small, she continued, “I kind of work there.”
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 jacket’s 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 didn’t say something to him first. When she did, however, he had no trouble righting himself while shaking his head, “It’s fine. No harm done.” He cracked his signature lop-sided smile and lazily gestured to himself to emphasize his own words and then said to them, “Hard as it might be, you might wanna pocket your phone though. Especially on these streets.”
.
She blinked for a brief moment before noting that her gym leggings just.. did not have pockets. But the gym bag existed. “You’re correct, but usually it’s not a problem - uh-” Ionna side-stepped out of the way of someone behind her who, funnily enough, also was not paying attention to where they were walking.
“D’you ever wish you had like.. a physical bubble of personal space? Actually,” they paused, looking him over briefly, “you probably do have the equivalent of that, huh?”
Good thing the smoothie hadn’t spilled, given the threads he seemed to wear casually and as if it were the most familiar thing in the world. “Your smoothie’s fine, right? Like - I don’t owe you one or anything??”
Calliope looked over to the unfortunate puddle of Vanilla Greek Yogurt and the five blackberries sitting on top. She’d sigh sadly if it didn’t mean making this poor stranger feel worse than she probably already felt.
I’m glad no people were harmed in the making of this incident.” She chuckled and also moved out of other people’s way. “Don’t be sorry. Really. I wasn’t paying attention either!”
She nodded in response to the woman’s question and then shook her head. “No no! don’t be silly! Sounds like you’re having a…day!” She offered her a friendly smile and pulled her backpack to her chest to rummage for napkins and hand sanitizer. “Here, let’s get cleaned up maybe we can get two of those to make up for the day and the loss?” She began cleaning her hands after handing the napkins to the woman. “Oh! I’m Calliope by the way. Who do I have the pleasure of literally bumping in to?”
Oh! At least this lovely stranger had a sense of humour about the whole thing. It wasn’t 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. “Ionna - Ionna Foti. Think I’ll get some granola instead of yogurt. Was heading to the gym,” they chuckled.
“There’s like, a cafe around the corner, right? Or something. There is something food-shaped around the corner, I just can’t remember what off the top of my-” she seemed to zone out for a moment before nodding assuredly.
-head.. There’s a cafe around the corner.”
There wasn’t a trashcan immediately accessible, but she didn’t find that to be a problem. The cafe would have one, anyway. “You good?” There was just enough of an opening in the foot traffic for the both of them if they were ready.
“You 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.”
Luis wasn’t used to people approaching him. He didn’t mind, his general air made him rather unapproachable and he was more than happy to lean into that when necessary. New York wasn’t 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.
“What’s in it for you?” he asked, eyeing them suspiciously as they managed to figure out what he was most likely to drink.
.
“Satisfaction, mostly,” 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.
“You seemed like you could use a little cherry-ing up, and life’s too short to be- well, whatever it is you’re feeling that doesn’t seem pleasant right now, let’s put it that way.”
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. “Oh! I- this doesn’t have to be right now! Sorry- you’re probably busy working. The Wayfinder’s not too far from here - though I guess Google exists. I could meet you there ‘round six? Or- or whenever works.”
He didn’t say no before, anyway. It didn’t 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 wasn’t 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 profit…but the quality definitely explained why the price was cheaper.
And apparently ending the meeting early was considered rude when the quality wasn’t 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 couldn’t help but hope that they hadn’t followed him from his meeting. Or worse, they actually had and were going to try and convince him to give the company another shot. “Can I help you?” he asked, trying not to give too much away.
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 hadn’t figured out the thread just yet, but had to push the thought aside for a hopefully casual approach.
“I think it’s less you can help me and more maybe I can offer you something,” She was attempting to put forward a more business-inclined tone, but it wasn’t solid enough to be believable for anyone with actual experience in a formal setting.
“You just seem like you’re having A Day - can I buy you a drink? Something to take the edge off, maybe,” she mused, thinking for a moment and then suddenly looking very pleased with themselves. “I know of a place with a seasonal cherry beer if you’re so inclined.”
When will McDonald’s bring back the parfait? It was Calliope’s 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 café in gentrified Queens. But, whatever. That’s what she gets for not going food shopping over the weekend. She could have made herself one of these for a lot less.
Another day, another client and Calliope wanted to give a great first impression to the youngster she’d be mentoring over the summer. With her head in the clouds and a spoon in her mouth, Calliope didn’t realize until it was too late that there was an incoming human. “Oh cra–!” and down went her plastic spoon and yogurt…everywhere.
“She looked down at her overalls and couldn’t help but laugh at the situation “uh. I mean…it’s just yogurt, am I right? Are you okay? Did I get any on you?”
Splat. Unceremonious. Squishy. Wet. At least it wasn’t on either of them, but a quick moment of processing spotted a splatter on someone else’s shoes. Ah well. That’ll be their problem later, she figured.
“I’m uh- I’m good, I think - so sorry,” 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.
“Disposable spoon, right? Can i get you anything to replace it? The- the snack, I mean, not necessarily just the spoon-” Gods above and below. Normally they wouldn’t be so flustered, but it was just one of those days.”Guess it’s what I get for looking at my phone, huh?” Her tone was dry, most likely out of disappointment in herself. It doesn’t 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 didn’t 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.
“Ah, fuck - I’m sorry - you didn’t spill any-”
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 wasn’t keeping up as well as the bar, and even the bar was struggling in the mid-day heat. This building was old and wasn’t as well-insulated as it should’ve been, but that was the downside of the property.
The fans were running as high as they could. Ionna’s 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 didn’t 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 wasn’t going to last.
Pingu’s suffering, however, would if she didn’t 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 Pingu’s 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.
“C’mon, you big baby. It’s your favourite thing.”
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t chuckle a little at the excited sprint into his temporary but fortunately now-chilly pen. He’d 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.
“Sorry about the noise, folks - and the wait,” 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. “Can I get you anything in particular? We’re not real keen on alcohol this early in the day with this heat - it’s dangerous, but you want what you want.”
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 it’s 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.
“We also have popcicles,” she mentioned, pointing to an awkwardly placed, probably new freezer stuffed absolutely full with boxes of Otterpops.
Pingu kept pawing at her feet, distracting her her from her work in such a way that she’d had to remake at least two different drinks in the last several minutes. Her coworker at the bar, Marcus, kept glancing over enough that she’d noticed.
It occurred to Ionna that maybe she should’ve been counting her boons better, because now Pingu was whining and the light-headedness was difficult to ignore.
“Can I get a-”
“I’m.. sorry - I need to step off for a minute but someone will be with you in just a moment.” 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 I’m 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 hadn’t meant to open his conversation window, but there it was. Pingu whined at her feet again, nuzzling at her ankles, prompting her to decide. “Alright, alright, bean.”
>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 >.>
