who: open !
where: beanz
fiadh flanagan bursts into beanz like the front door owes her money—windblown, wide-eyed, and already talking before she even properly steps inside.
“you’d never believe the morning i’ve had—two subway delays, one very rude man in a scarf, and i’m fairly certain the octopus at work is plotting my downfall,” she announces cheerfully to no one in particular, though the barista gives her a knowing look like this is not their first rodeo.
she’s carrying three bags—only one of which makes sense—and drops into the seat near the window with the kind of exhausted flair that suggests she’s either been up since 5am or just hasn’t slept. her cardigan is inside out, her hair’s doing its own thing, and she’s already pulling out a crumpled napkin with some kind of fish diagram on it. for later.
“right,” she says to whoever’s nearest—stranger, friend, unfortunate soul sitting nearby—“what’s your take on sea turtles and soulmates? because i had a dream about one last night, and i think it might’ve been prophetic. or maybe i just shouldn’t eat cheese before bed. either way, i’m opening it up for discussion.”
she sips her tea like that was the most natural conversation starter in the world.
mira yildiz was curled up in the corner booth of beanz, sleeves pushed up, nursing a cappuccino like it was the last lifeline on earth, and scrolling idly through a dog-eared medical journal that smelled of both ink and despair until she was interrupted. she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow over the rim of her cup as fiadh storms in like a category 5 hurricane. she watches the whole entrance with the vague expression of someone who’s just come to terms with being awake before 9am, and now has to process a human tornado speaking in full paragraphs. “honestly?” mira finally says, setting her cup down and squinting like she’s trying to remember if she has an opinion on sea turtles and soulmates. “if a sea turtle shows up in your dream holding a tiny love letter in its flipper, i say marry the next person you see. or, you know, switch to almond milk before bed and see if that helps.” then leaning forward, she taps the table once with her finger like she’s about to deliver actual wisdom. “but if the turtle was giving you the look — and you know the one — then i’d get your affairs in order. that’s some reincarnated old god energy.” a pause. her tone then softens with something a little more amused than concerned. “...are you okay, or did scarf man personally offend your bloodline?”
