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Created seven years ago by "Sabrina Affini,"The Coffee Break is an affordable place to go for a snack or coffee. With an nice, light atmosphere, one could nearly forget the stuggles of the world beyond the window. Every Friday afternoon, a salon for cih council-minded people is held here.

Roleplay!

Sabien Triste -- or as she did technically prefer, Sable -- walked into first coffee shop. She was rather proud of the place. It made coffee, which was typically expensive in the city, actually affordable for all people. It was a source of pride for her, and she would be lying if she were to say she did not count it among her greater achievements. She sighed slightly. She was dressed in a hoodie and a knee-length pencil skirt, and the stringly black hair of her current wig lay uselessly on her shoulders. She cleaned her fake glasses quickly, pretending like she couldn't actually see well without them, and put them back on her face. Sabrina Affini. Definitely not the favorite face to wear. Either way, she smiled broadly and observed the people in the cafe. For the most part, she knew who they all were -- it was very important to her that she did, especially if she were to one day invite them to one of her salons. She walked over to the bar, where her barista was waiting to take a person's order. "Hello!" she greeted both patron and barista cheerily.

Brax would've started had he not been paying keen attention to what was going on around (and especially behind) him. This was his first time visiting this particular establishment and the impression he made on it had to be perfect. He'd managed a glance at the woman who'd greeted him through a reflection in a window behind the counter. She was dressed casually, but Brax could tell she was wearing a wig. The presence of a also made him wonder if the glasses she was wearing were real, but he couldn't tell from his current angle. She was clearly comfortable in her environment and she wasn't showing any signs that would point towards some sort of hair loss, which made Brax wonder: why the wig?

This assessment took place right before the woman opened her mouth to speak (though it wasn't as quick as Brax would've liked) and he slipped immediately into a character that best fit the situation. It was at this point Aidan took over.

Aidan jumped, placing a hand over his heart in surprise. He turned mid-order and got his first look at the woman who'd startled him. "H-hi," he said breathily, extending a hand forward, using the other one to brace himself against the counter. "I'm Aidan." ((dance time now. i get out in like two and a half hours, so it'll be a while before i respond to anything))

Sabrina noticed the half-pause before his rather dramatic action. Dramatic flirting, all the signs pointed to, really. She was more than willing to ignore that. One, Sabrina was her least favorite identity to use on any day, but two, having any sort of attachment would make keeping up with three different lives that much harder to finagle. And even if that weren't the case, Sabrina was not exactly sure flirting would be appropriate in any case when it was in front of everyone and she was owner and he a customer. Otherwise, she might have even flirted back for the hell of it. She did a lot of things for the hell of it.

"I hope my barista's treating you well," she said, raising an eyebrow at this Aidan character. She smirked slightly. She dressed sort of geekily and acted like a bit of a fanatic as Sabrina, too. It usually startled people when they learned she was actually the bitch (she had a tendency to enjoy describing herself as such because it meant she was a powerful woman with no qualms about expressing herself) in charge of such a successful joint. "Anything else I can get you? I'd hate to think we're not serving our customers to the fullest when the city council provides us with so much to give everyone."

If Brax were still present, he would've been quite grateful for the little things he'd done to alter his appearance enough for him not to be recognizable as a member of the council; the dirty blonde-ish temporary hair dye he'd put in the night before, the colored contacts that made his eyes look gray, the baggy clothes to hide his frame, the pale freckles and bronzer he'd so meticulously applied this morning - every detail mattered. However, Brax was more or less gone now, so it was up to Aidan not to screw up (and hopefully to find a way for Brax to know what happened, since the memories he had for each personality hardly ever stayed with him once he returned to "normal").

Aidan raised his eyebrows, looking in surprise from the woman in front of him - Sabrina, if she was really the owner - to the barista and back again. "You're the - wow. That's - wow. C-cool." His white-knuckle grip on the counter didn't lessen any as he spoke (Aidan had never been any good around strangers) and realizing he had yet to reply to the bit about Sabrina's barista treating him well (or what else she could get him), he added, "Your barista is, um, he's great, really. I'm fine, too. It's just been such a long time since I could afford the coffee our oh-so-great council provides that I'm a bit overwhelmed."

Aidan almost didn't realize he'd made a sarcastic remark about the greatness of the council in the middle of a council-supporting establishment, no less. He was so used to doing it in his day-to-day life that he'd forgotten where speaking in such a way could land him. His eyes widened slightly and he tightened his grip on the counter (a feat he didn't think possible considering how tightly he was currently holding onto it), praying his slip of tongue had gone unnoticed.

So much for Aidan not screwing up.

Oh-so-great council? Sabrina knew instantly that it was sarcasm. She nearly laughed and only barely managed to maintain her straight face. She raised an eyebrow at him and gestured to her t-shirt, where it was tucked into her pencil skirt -- yep, total city council geek. Of course, she wasn't going to say anything a normal person would say: Careful there, mate, that's a bit close to sedition, or The city council does bless us with so much, right? or You can't say things like that! The city council is so fucking awesome it's insane! Maybe not all of those were things normal people would say, but Sabrina could not claim to have much experience with normal. Still, even those that a normal person might consider saying, she would not say. They all sounded rather limiting, would make it seem like he had no right to speak his mind (and God Sabrina felt like everyone could speak their mind even if it were to say something she actually disagreed with like "Freedom of speech and conscience is so fucking wrong. That bitch needs to be shot." That had happened once).

She smiled slightly at Aidan as if to be reassuring. "Good. Glad my barista's treating you well. So do you know what you want or do you want some help deciding? It's okay, plenty of our customers have trouble deciding their first time even if they do have regular access to coffee. There are a lot of house specialties here not served anywhere else. Like our vanilla mocha, for our example. It's my personal favorite." Sabrina was rambling, but it was the ramble of a woman excited by and proud of what she did. And maybe a woman who was really hoping she wasn't about to send the new customer flying for the Outskirts.

Aidan was definitely nervous. Neither Sabrina nor Sable could be classed as sympathetic people even though Sabien could. Sabien was the side of her that fit with that. Sabrina's only comforting side usually tended to be "Here, have a cup of coffee and I'll help you figure out what you want, but you're still paying." Still, Sabrina did not exactly like how nervous Aidan was. So she patted him on the shoulder and pointed dramatically at the menu. "If you want something off the menu, just ask and we'll see if it's at all possible, all right?"

She'd given Aidan a look, but Sabrina hadn't said anything. He released his grip on the counter, glancing down to see the corner had been imprinted into the top part of the palm of his hand. Aidan looked back at the menu, wondering what on earth he could possibly want. He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. He was ordering coffee, not a nuclear weapon.

"Thank you," said Aidan, turning his head back to Sabrina as he spoke. He didn't just mean for her awkward patting and the coffee, either. Facing the barista once more, Aidan decided on trying the smallest version of the vanilla mocha thing Sabrina had mentioned. It couldn't be too terrible, and nothing was worse than having to stand in line any longer.

Sabrina nodded at the man's request and yelled back an order in a brief but not rude fashion. She was happy to see that her customer had relaxed some. She didn't like her customers to be freaking out. She felt it dampened the atmosphere of the entire area because people would be worried about upsetting the one. It was all business and no actual sympathy on her part, obviously. Of course she wouldn't actually care as Sabrina. Sabrina gave shits about her cafe, her salon, and the city council. That was it. Customers were part of the cafe. As if it were only just that. Sabrina always made sure she knew the stories of her guests, and she had no intention of stopping now either. She smiled somewhat awkwardly -- and the awkwardness was entirely intentional. She knew it'd be a moment before the drink was prepared, so she turned to Aidan, "So what brings you here to my cafe then?"

Aidan shrugged, pushing his all-too-real glasses (Brax and all of his alters were moe or less blind without them or some form of prescription contacts) up on his nose. "I mean...the coffee, I guess. People I know talk about it a lot. They, um, they always have. I've just always been kinda skeptical, I guess. I didn't think that something like coffee going for a reasonable price was, well...reasonable. I was just passing by on the way to meet a friend and I figured that it couldn't be too bad if so many people talked about it, you know?" Aidan nearly slapped himself -- he'd as good as insulted the woman he'd just met and what she stood for in not even ten minutes. "Not that your coffee is bad, of course. I think. Not with all these people here enjoying themselves, at least. I just -- I'm not good people. Or words." He stopped his intense staring match with the tile and brought his eyes to meet Sabrina's. Figuring it was better to give her the short version than continue on whatever path he'd been heading down earlier, he said, "Sorry."

Sabrina just laughed. "Yeah, and that is why I resolved to make my coffee not outrageously expensive." In a mock whisper, she added, "Between you and me, I think all the other owners make a bit more profit than they ought to." That was, of course, likely, but the real reason her prices were so low was that she used her contacts to get everything at better prices than what anyone else could manage. She would have sold everything as cheaply even if she had not been able to get things at lower prices though. Getting things to people at low prices was more important to her by far than making a profit. She would have been happier living in the Outskirts. And her inheritance could certainly support her businesses for about a century anyway. She smiled. The coffee was finished, and the barista handed it to her. She quickly handed it to Aidan. The barista handed her a second coffee, one for her. "Ta!" She handed the man the money to put in the cash register. She didn’t want her stuff to be free just because she owned he place.

Aidan almost dropped the coffee Sabrina had handed him, causing some muffled cursing. After making sure he had a good grip on the cup, he sniffed the lid curiously. It smelled good and the cup wasn't terribly hot, so Aidan decided to take a swig of his drink. His glasses fogged up because of the steaminess of the drink, but Aidan wasn't disappointed.

He went to thank Sabrina (again) but she was in the middle of speaking, so he held back. He noticed how she made sure to pay for even her own drink and he nodded slightly. Aidan took out a piece of crumpled paper and wrote a few fragmented sentences down about what he'd done since coming in the coffee shop, aware that he had a tendency to forget large chunks of his life -- a fact that concerned him greatly.

Sabrina watched as Aidan wrote on the sheet of paper with interest. She did make a habit of learning everything she could about people. Knowing people was really the reason she was not dead or languishing in gaol. She had to know whom she could invite to her salons without being betrayed, or which salons to which it would be reasonable to invite various people. She leaned against the counter and waited for him to finish his scribbling. "What'cha writing there?" She went for "bored curiosity" with her tone, but it came out much more like plain interest.

She adjusted her glasses slightly. The hot air of the cafe had caused the bridge of her nose to sweat. She frowned and quickly moved them to wipe the sweat off her nose. She was careful to pretend like she couldn't see well without them when in fact she saw a tiny bit better without the thick glass between her eyes and the world. She shrugged as if embarrassed before muttering, "Sorry."

Aidan shrugged. "Little stuff. In case I forget. My memory hasn't been too great lately. I usually just write small summary things after I've done something semi-important. I code it in case I happen to write something really important and someone else finds the paper." Aidan wasn't really sure why he was telling Sabrina all of this, but he figured it wouldn't do much harm.

Brax would've picked up on the tone of voice, would've known by the way Sabrina cleaned her glasses that they were fake, would've known so much more, but Aidan was in charge, and Aidan was too busy noticing how attractive Sabrina looked to be paying much attention to anything else.

Sabrina nodded. She could tell that there was more to the story, but she knew not prying was a better way to get a person to open up than asking more questions. She'd learned from practice and being asked questions about her businesses herself -- though she rarely revealed much information either way because she was actually careful. What she decided to focus on for now was the way her customer was looking at her. She wrenched his drink from his hands and held it back over the counter. "Stop looking at me like you want to eat me like a cake, please. I am a respectable businesswoman. You will be given your drink back when you behave yourself." Holding a drink away from a customer: certified businesswoman behavior indeed.

Something else Aidan had been noticing between dozing off was how good the coffee was, and Sabrina taking it from him snapped him wide awake. "Oh! God, I'm so sorry. I've been running on like three hours of sleep these past two days because of work and yes, I was sort of looking at you, but mostly it was just me marveling at the amazingness of this goddamn coffee." Aidan buried his face in his hand, forcing his glasses up to his hairline, to hide the redness of his cheeks and just from embarrassment in general. "I am so sorry." If Aidan weren't so embarrassed, he probably would've made a joke about what sort of business coffee kidnapping was. But he was, and currently Aidan just wanted to throw himself into oncoming traffic.

Sabrina laughed, rolled her eyes dramatically (an action a bit more suited for Sable than Sabrina), and passed the coffee back to Aidan. She smiled and took a sip of her white chocolate mocha. As if she were abashed (which she really, really wasn't), she said, "Sorry, I just get a bit frustrated with attention sometimes. Why shouldn't I be able to do my job without some person coming in every other minute and flirting with me until I want to shoot them in the head?" The apology felt unnatural, not her, but it was an action she practiced enough as Sabrina that she could scarcely taste the bitter taste of a lie onher tongue.

"No, it's fine, I get it. Most guys are garbage. You deserve a lot more than some dick flirting with you in your coffee shop," said Aidan. He gratefully sipped his newly returned coffee, savoring the rush of caffeine. "Not that I was trying to flirt with you or that I'm garbage, of course." Aidan was growing more comfortable and less nervous as their conversation continued. He wrote something else down on his piece of paper before shoving it back into the pocket of his jeans.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "Clearly not. You've got some money but don't really want to act like a sanctimonious . . . not a word that is meant to be said in polite company. A lot of people are sanctimonious you-know-whats, though, money or no, so I guess I ought to respect you for that, right? Resistance boys are the worst cause they think they're all that and standing up for 'what's right' and all that, you know? Like there's a problem with our lovely government." God, she hated having to sound like "a stereotypical woman in a meeting", always having to ask for confirmation like that. She could do "genuine." It was something her customers loved about her. She was good at pretending the falseness of her words didn't leave a sour taste in her mouth.

Aidan held one his hands up in surrender, the other holding his coffee. "You don't have to ask me for reassurance. More likely than not, I know less about this than you do." He drank the last of his coffee. "Though, I don't have a problem with anyone as long as they aren't...hurting people, I guess. Resistance or not, a person's still a person - or at least, that's what I think." He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it off like he wasn't one of those "resistance boys" himself.

"People are people, but if they had any sense, they'd be for the city council. We'd all have peace if we followed them, eh?" Once again, a girl looking for confirmation so as not to be a bitch. Fucking hell, bitch, to Sable and to Sabrina and to Sabien, was a compliment, but Sable was the only one with that type of personality. She wasn't even for the city council despite the propaganda she could spurt off at the turn of a dime. She could do that with resistance propaganda too. She took a sip of her own coffee to find it a bit cooler than she preferred. That's what she got for waiting, she supposed. "So what do you do for a living then, Aidan?"

"Well, most people think it's stupid, but...I write," Aidan said with a shrug. "I haven't gotten much published, but I like it. I do other small stuff too, to make the rent." Brax himself did write and get published quite a lot, but as he used quite a few different aliases and such to do so (in the event someone tried to check up on what one of his alter egos actually did for a living) he hadn't had much done for Aidan specifically. Aidan had only popped up fairly recently as a true alter, so Brax really didn't have much in the way of anything for him.

"You write? What do you write? Anything that I'd have heard of, you think?" She did read a lot of various things despite her primary focus on present events. It was always good to have more philosophical points in one's repertoire by her reckoning. She was intrigued. Authors were always easy to place in her various salons. Writing made it very easy to grasp people's viewpoints on various matters. She knew she ought to ask about the "other small stuff" and made a mental note to ask later, but she figured she ought focus on the writing first.

"Maybe. I write lots of different things, but nothing that ever got very popular. Sometimes I do reports or reviews for small events or places. Most of what I write is poetry I find terrible but everyone else seems to enjoy. It's my way of taking my crappy opinions on things and making them seem...less crap? I don't know. It pays some of the bills, though." Aidan figured he was rambling a bit, but he trusted Sabrina to stop him if he carried on too long. Aidan tended to trust a lot of people with a lot of things. It wasn't something he really paid attention to, but him being overly trusting was something you could rely on. That on its own was enough to make him vastly different from Brax, whose personality was ridiculously volatile.

"Reports?" Sabrina asked. That was more of a Sable question, but Sabrina-the-persona would have been interested in it too, so it wasn't really a blunder. "What types of things do you write poetry on? Politics? Shit living situations? The high life?" She was rather hoping it was the first thing she'd mentioned. That was why she'd mentioned it first. Politics would make for the most interesting discussion, at any rate. And if he gave a shit about politics, she might be able to invite him to one of her salons, too. Sabrina didn't cut people off when they rambled. She also wasn't one of those people with a tendency to zone out while people spoke. She liked listening because from listening, she could learn things about the world and about people in general.

"Well...yeah. Like I said, not anything really important." Aidan always felt weird when talking about his writing with other people since he tended to be extremely self-conscious. "And it's mostly politics and living situations. I like writing about things I think will make people think, I guess. I don't care much for what I write. Not sure if you would either, considering what it's about. I prefer reading what other people write, but when I get the inspiration -- or really, when I get the bills -- I do it myself."

Sabrina had to monitor exactly how interested she sounded. As Sable, she could have expressed all the interest she liked. As a girl, she could have, too. Still, she was very, very interested now. This was the sort of thing that interested her -- the conditions of the city. She made it her goal to be one of the most informed people in the entire city. "Here, can you write down the information so I can read it?" She smiled at him and took a sip of her mocha.

"I -- sure. Yeah. Do you have a piece of paper?" Aidan had never really received any interest in his work to his face (he told himself it was because he liked to keep a low profile) so he was really, really unused to the attention. He found his pen and tapped it nervously between his middle and forefingers. What would he write for her, exactly? Titles? He should probably ask. "What would you like me to write, specifically?"

"Um, yeah." She pulled out her wallet and quickly found one of her Sabrina Affini business cards. She was glad she had restocked them since running out the previous day. "Titles or publisher or full author's name or just where I can find them should work." She smiled. "Also, do you want a refill? We have a new customer discount on refills, so this would be your one chance for that." She finished her own drink quickly and asked the barista to refill it for her.

Aidan jotted down what Sabrina had suggested on the back of the proffered card, hoping his handwriting weren't too sloppy for her to be able to read. It was difficult to read on a good day, especially since he wrote with his left hand (which tended to smudge the ink and make his handwriting even worse). Aidan's handwriting the cute or quirky kind of messy scrawl either -- it was just plain awful. "At least they don't ask me to hand-write these things, otherwise I'd be in trouble," he joked, handing the card back. Aidan debated whether or not he'd like another drink momentarily and ended up using the discount to his advantage. Discounts always won in Aidan's mind -- cheaper was better, as his mother said. Aidan updated his scrap of paper, then realized why his last thought had felt so...off. Mother? Aidan didn't have a --

Oh. And just like that, Brax was back in control. He stiffened, an automatic reaction to switching from an alter so suddenly. He tilted his head downwards as if checking the time (when really he was checking what had happened according to his paper). "Sorry! For a second there I thought I had somewhere to be. Deadline's not for another couple of hours, though, thank God." Brax's mind was racing, trying to get caught up with what all had happened. Going by the paper, Aidan had been in charge up until a couple seconds ago. Aidan had had coffee, the woman with fake glasses and a wig who went by the name of Sabrina started to talk, and Sabrina seemed to take an interest in Aidan's political poetry. Was that it? How much had Aidan not recorded? Aidan by himself was pretty scatterbrained based on Brax's other involvements with him, so Brax hoped he hadn't interrupted the flow of a conversation or missed something due to Aidan's poor note-taking.

Brax hated Aidan.

Sabrina chuckled at the comment about his handwriting. She could read all sorts of handwriting, fortunately, and she'd been able to maintain three different handwritings for her three different identities. Her handwriting as Sabien was utterly shit. Couldn't really been much better than his. It was the type of handwriting people were always asking her to rewrite because it was apparently akin to a foreign tongue. One glance down at the card where Aidan was writing disabused her of the notion that his handwriting could be no worse than hers. His was even more awful than hers. Though she might just have been biased. Sabrina grabbed Aidan's cup and handed it back to the barista, ordering him another drink. Apparently, her drink had been ready for a moment, so she grabbed it from the counter and took a sip. It was a bit stronger than the earlier one, but that was good. She liked her second coffee to have more caffeine in it that the first.

She noticed when Aidan stiffened. She was an observant person likely because if she weren't, there was every chance her thing with as Sable might be discovered. And that was not a pleasant thought when it was considered how illegal that actually was. "You alright there?" she asked, actually concerned. she did care about others. That wasn't a lie. His coffee finished, so she grabbed the refilled drink and handed it to him. "And here's your refill. Where are you going have to go then?" She was genuinely curious about this, too. She was interested in everything about everyone, but she wasn't a gossip. Or at least, she didn't share gossip, but she listened to it often.

"Someplace in the Heart, maybe a publisher asking for my information or someone wanting me to write something for them. Might be a police officer wanting to formally tell me off for one of my pieces. I've had a few of those. I'm not really sure," Brax shrugged. "For things like this I just show up and figure things out along the way. I'm a pretty terrible planner." By this point, Brax had accepted his coffee and took this opportunity to drink it. Brax wasn't a huge fan of vanilla, but Aidan seemed to be. He'd even thought to write down how good it was. As far as Brax was concerned, Aidan could take his whiny, pretentious poetry and stupid vanilla mochas and shove them right up his -- well, you get the point.

"Well, you clearly know the appointment times," Sabrina pointed out with an arched eyebrow, "so clearly you can't be too spontaneous there. Business people don't like it when people don't show up for their appointments. I'd know." She smiled and rolled her eyes. She knew that well. She was a businesswoman in multiple identities in all technicality although the legality of her various businesses were vastly different. Her business as Sable? Legal? That would be a funny joke even if she did wish that her values were ones shared by much of the city. She tried not to frown when she saw the distaste in Aidan's eyes at the sip of his drink. She was the owner of a coffee shop. She knew when people were drinking their drinks just to be polite. "Is it too strong? Too hot? Cold?"

Brax shook his head, feigning mild embarrassment. "No, your coffee's amazing. It was the comment about the business people and the showing up. I'm usually decent at remembering things, mostly because, well -- " Brax pushed up the right sleeve of his shirt long enough for Sabrina to see the words he'd written on his forearm, then continued, " -- but the times I've forgotten...." Here, Brax made a similar expression to the one hr figured Sabrina had seen. She was observant, Brax would give her that. Her disguise was good as well, but Sabrina wasn't the only one who was observant. In another life Brax may have begun to fall for her a bit, if not for her skill in deception alone (he still hadn't figured out if this woman was who she claimed to be, which was unusual and a tad aggravating), but after what had happened last time...no. He couldn't let something like that happen, not again.

She could tell not all of the words on Aidan's arm were actually about interviews with writers (she had talked to enough coffee shop authors that she knew the protocols despite not writing herself). But, once again, Sabrina opted to say nothing. "Right. I wouldn't know about being forgetful. I think after watching people order the same coffee every single time, you learn to just get the thing ahead of time and not really want to wait until it's muscle memory." True, that was what her baristas said. Sabrina had just always committed iit to memory instantly, giving each new customer their own room in her mind palace. And she could tell from Aidan's room that there had been a little change. Nohing much. Just slightly narrower eyes, firmer stance. But generally the same attitude. "You sure you don't want a different coffee? The barista might have thought it was for me. I like more espresso in mine as the morning goes on, I'm afraid. Self-made insomniac in the name of business." Obviously business. It just wasn't just this business.

Shit. Sabrina had clearly worked out Brax hadn't appreciated the coffee as much as Aidan had. Might as well play along with the reason she gave to it before he got suspicious. "Yeah, thanks. It did taste a little different. Not sure how, though. I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. I'm kind of weird about tastes, too." Brax shrugged apologetically, biting his lip and passing the cup off to Sabrina. Aidan was always very sorry. Brax wasn't sure how he felt about the apologizing. he knew his council alter wouldn't like it, but the real Brax hadn't known how he felt about much of anything since he was thirteen. It was always about other people, what they wanted to see. Brax didn't care about not really knowing himself; it made it easier for him to become immersed in his characters.

"No problem. Would you like to try a different coffee on me? It would be bad for me to let it be on the house since it was a free refill and can't have too much free. Someone has to pay for it and better me than my customer. So different drink on me?" She hated the words that came out of her mouth, but she'd learned how to say them and say them well enough that people didn't really ever pick up on how much they frustrated her (if they did, she was good at putting it down to a bad day or sleeping poorly which was usually the only reason she'd fail at masking it well enough). It wasn't being nice that she found problematic at all. Indeed, the problem was entirely that she made herself sound weak, less sure of herself, like a "woman in a meeting". She hated it. Really, while Sabrina made sure not to come off as a bitch because she could only have one personality quite like that and because it was harder to sell coffee when one was labelled that way, Sable took that label and owned it. That was who she always was inside, but as Sable she could show it. She liked being Sable best for a lot of reasons including that.

"No, it's fine. I can pay for my own drink. It wasn't your fault I didn't like it," Brax said. He'd sensed the slightest change in her attitude, one that seemed to occur every time Sabrina had to show any sort of weakness and his council earnings were more than enough to prevent the discomfort of one woman. It was just a cup of coffee, after all, and if she insisted on paying for it, Brax just wouldn't get one. He'd gone without caffeine before, after all. Besides, for some inexplicable reason, Brax was actually feeling rather nice. Right now, at least. "And seriously, you don't have to be so unsure of yourself." That bit was something Brax actually agreed with Aidan on, if not just for the time being.

She shrugged. "Public image. Unfortunately, people like it when female business owners appear less confident, right?" She rolled her eyes. "You sell less things when you get called 'bitch' on a regular basis, so you know?" She hated those little words attached to the ends of statements. But as Sabrina, they were habit, something she had to say that she hated with a passion. She couldn't express most of her true opinions as Sabrina. Sabien was a mouse now. She didn't speak. She was shy and signed and gesticulated everything. Sable was the bold one. Brash. Free to speak. Sable was Sabrina's favorite because she could express all her opinions. Ironic that her favorite value was freedom of speech and she could only do that under a single identity.

"I don't think having confidence in yourself makes you a bitch," Aidan -- no, Brax, said. He tapped his fingers on the side of the cup with the vanilla whatever-the-hell in a way that would make it seem like a nervous tick. By this point, Brax had settled on just not getting a new coffee; caffeine was what he would need if he were to have anything to do with the council today, regardless of what form it was in. He took a sip from cup. It was better than the first one, but that may have just been because this time Brax was expecting it.

"It's dumb, what female business owners have to go through." Sabrina's dislike for her need for business womanly etiquette was becoming increasingly apparent to Brax, and it was a bit of information he intended to use to his advantage. Having allies was something that never hurt with his position, especially if they had something to hide.

Sabrina nodded. The words were friendly, commiserating, but in truth, she could hear something calculated about them. She would know. His words were as calculated as her own so often were. So in response, she said, "Chose it, you know. It's rumored not to be like that in the Slums, but I couldn't bear to be so far from the City Council." A wistful, dreamy expression came to her face -- a too wide smile., her eyes a little brighter. It was as if the emotions were not as false as they were. She hated the Heart of the City, in truth. Too shallow and uptight and condescending. The Outskirts were he favorite. It was easier to be human there. It was relaxed. It felt real in a way here and the Slums just didn't. The Slums and the Heart were engineered to be opposites, she reckoned, but she had only been to eliminate it to a couple different options. It was a bit of a mystery, and she wanted to know why. It wasn't the most imlortant thing, though, so she let it go back to the background.

((I find it amusing that they could probably both call the other's lies at any moment but are just going with it))

And why do I not believe that? Probably because Brax was used to over-exaggerating his own emotions (he'd done it quite a few times in this conversation alone), but there were other things about her Brax still hadn't figured out. Sabrina was a lot more difficult to read than most, and while he could tell all the things she wasn't -- council fanatic, soft-spoken, eager to be a business woman -- Brax couldn't tell exactly what she was. Brax would never admit it, but this woman was stumping him, and saying Brax didn't care much for being tricked was a severe understatement. He reviewed everything he knew (and didn't) about Sabrina, starting with her appearance, hoping to come up with something. Black wig. Fake glasses. Coffee shop owner, with cheaper and still decent coffee. Not as into the council as she seemed, but felt the need to lie about it. Responses appeared premeditated. Did not enjoy being flirted with. Independent and freedom-loving anti-council woman with a like of coffee? Seemed plausible, but Brax would work on it more later. She also appeared to know more or less when Brax was lying or attempting to con her, which suggested intelligence. The tapping on his cup became less Brax's attempt at nervousness and more his outlet for his frustration, but the intensity remained the same.

Most of Brax's alters were characters he developed at an early-ish age to stand in for friends due to neglect issues with his parents and peers that he ended up using as a way to gain friends later on. However, there were some that came about around when his now-ex (and dead) girlfriend Celia started abusing him. Those were the more violent ones, and it was one of those (who Brax referred to as his character Tommás) that took over in cases of extreme aggravation. Like right now.

"As I'm sure you've worked out by this point, neither one of us is being entirely honest with the other. I'm a fucking nut job with hundreds of different personalities that refuses to get checked out by a doctor, what's your excuse?" Tommás was every bit as bright as Brax, just significantly more blunt. In some cases, this was a blessing. In others, where Brax was attempting to be discreet or subtle...not so much.

((those have been my thoughts for the majority of their roleplay, actually. side note: i made slight alterations to Brax's personality and history in spots concerning his DID because i started doing a bit more research on the topic and wanted to make sure my profile for him was accurate)).

One of Sabrina's eyebrows flew up her face at the sudden bluntness. That had been unexpected. Despite the eyebrow flying up, the rest of her face remained startlingly neutral. That was a result of practice, enough of it to make it more instinct to keep her face still when surprised. The eyebrow was testament to her surprise. The shift had been sudden. She thought back a couple minutes and realized that when he tensed that must have been another change. She tilted her head to the side slightly. She folded her arms across her a chest, a gesture that could look the tiniest bit defensive. It wasn't meant as defense, not really at least (it did give her the smallest bit of relief), but because that was just what she did. Finally, she said, "I am under no obligation to give you an 'excuse'; any 'excuse' would just be utter BS, too." She rolled her eyes, one eyebrow remaining arched. A smirk half-formed on her face. She didn't do any of the "woman in a meeting" techniques she usually utilized as Sabrina. She sounded confident, stronger, and honestly, just a bit irritated. That was much more of something she'd say when she was Sable, when it was who she was. Those words were one of the truest things she'd said this entire conversation. She couldn't say the actual truth either, mostly because of the actual reasons she did it. In order to help, she had to be a little illegal. "And I don't like bullshitting people because I'm not a douchebag." That smirk was now fully formed. Yep, she was being very, very much like Sable now.

She glanced meaningfully around the room, pointing out silently that most of these people were on her side, not his. She figured he would get it. He seemed rather smart, too, better than most of the idiots she dealt with at any rate. And this one was clearly angry, but she also dealt with high-ranking members of the resistance and members of gangs on a regular basis for her work. She was not easily intimidated these days. And intimidation, she reckoned was way too inconvenient to be remotely practical. She quickly double-checked what she did know of the man in front of her, resolving that she'd try to figure out who he actually was using her sources.

((Yes, mine too. I've been fangirling about it for the last while now. It's adorable. Makes sense. I've now reread.))

A string of words that were nowhere near polite went flying through what was now Brax's mind. Tommás was a fucking idiot when it came to strategy. He was the absolute worse character--because Brax refused to believe his personalities were anything more than his own creations--to have when in delicate situations like these. This woman was surrounded by allies (she wasn't afraid to show that off, either). She also wasn't stupid. Now, because of stupid fucking Tommás, Sabrina knew something--something that wasn't even true--about Brax, and Brax knew next to nothing about her.

Wait. Brax did know something. Tommás had recognized her. From somewhere. Fuck. Why didn't Brax remember what his character had? Dammit. Brax recalled the faintest of things, the same person and face, but with different clothes and hair, a different coffee shop--the only thing that stuck out was that the woman Tommás had recognized definitely wasn't Sabrina. However, Tommás wasn't exactly one to write things down, so Brax would have to work out the rest on his own. One thing he'd picked up on without the help of his alter--no, character, he reminded himself--was Sabrina's slight change in tone. For the briefest moment, she'd sounded less like a businesswoman, and in that moment she'd seemed...less tense, somehow.

"You may not be a bullshitting douchebag, but you're not Sabrina, either." Brax was tempted to divulge more of what he knew about her. He almost had. But he convinced himself that in the long run, it was probably best if she didn't know everything he knew about her. Things would get a lot more complicated then.

Although, Brax couldn't say he wouldn't enjoy something complicated.

((it's fun roleplaying Brax because of his slight confusion and calculation and his complications and all the other c---tion words i can fit in here))

((Wait, if he's recognizing her as Sable, she'd probably recognize him because no one she hasn't personally invited is able to get into Speak Easy, so should I have her realize she sort of recognizes him too?))

She could have laughed at the expression that was on Aidan's face. He looked rather disgruntled. Of course, at his statement, she sent him an affronted expression that probably matched his irritated expression in terms of how amusing it was. There was a raised eyebrow, a downward quirk of her lips. "I am Sabrina, actually." Not a lie, not really. She was as much Sabrina as she was Sable and Sabien. And none of them were completely her, and she was not completely them, either. She was someone inbetween. She knew who she was -- her values, her opinions, her moods, etc. But she'd cast away any name other than simply me years back when she made Sabien one of her three identities that she kept up. (There had been two besides her original Sabien beforehand -- one from living in the Slums and the other from the Outskirts). She tilted her head to the side. "I am talking to you now as Sabrina. Doesn't that mean I am Sabrina?" She was ready to quote Shakespeare, That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but she decided to leave that in her reserves.

She was beginning to realize she recognized him also. It was from one of her other identities though, and she was pretty sure it had to be Sable. She was proud of herself for not blanching when her entire mind was suddenly littered with various profanities. She didn't have that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, thank every single fucking deity in existence,but she was quickly reevaluating her options. This was really, really bad. She knew that some people she knew as Sable would probably want her dead if they knew she was also for the council-friendly in a different guise. And some people here would see her as a criminal.

She decided to switch her train of thought and the topic quickly. She cocked her head to the side. "You aren't Aidan either. Do you actually write?" There was that abrupt tone again, the one that belonged to Sable and not Sabrina. It was the voice that belonged to that girl who could never keep her mouth shut. The girl whose family got a warning from the police because of her blatant opinions on every little issue and lack of qualms or expressing them. This was the kid who had kept herself scarily informed despite having been hidden away from the world.

((i accidentally hit the post button before i was ready, sorry if you saw that.))

"I'm as much Aidan as you are Sabrina. Just with a worse memory." Brax cocked his head to the side as well, unintentionally mirroring Sabrina's action. He'd gotten quieter at the end, too, trailing off as he grew deeper in thought. He cast his gaze downward, eyebrows furrowing slightly. Sabrina knew he was trying to figure something out; no use in trying to cover the little things up. All the people he'd met under so many different personalities...but he couldn't remember a damned thing about them.

He looked up suddenly, finally realizing there'd been a question attached to Sabrina's statement. "Sorry. Writing. Yes," Brax patted his back pocket, pulling out a piece from a newspaper or something of the sort. He didn't know what it was, poetry or prose, or why he'd had it in his pocket, only that it was something Aidan had written. Oh. The meeting today. That was what it had been about. Something for whatever that was Aidan wrote.

Sabrina's other name, the one Aidan had recognized her for, was similar to Sabrina, he remembered that much. Only, it was shorter, and the "a" had been different. It wasn't a very common one, either. But what was it? Where had he seen her?

((It's fine))

"I am very much Sabrina," Sabrina protested, raising an eyebrow. Because in her own mind, she was Sabrina. Sure, she disagreed with some things -- like how pro-council Sabrina is. She was resolutely neutral. She refused to choose a side. For one, both sides were shit to certain groups but good to others. And choosing a side inhibited free-thinking anyway, so that automatically ruled it out, in her mind, as an option. "Sorry, not sorry to disappoint." She winked at him (another very Sable-like gesture) as a gesture clearly meant to be more annoying than anything else. This was why Sable was so good at getting reactions, rises, from people where Sabrina's more polite, moderate nature let her get more customers because she seemed to care for each individually.

Sabrina cocked her head to the side when he pulled out the clipping. "That yours then?" She gestured toward the paper and quickly scanned over the title. And then she realized that she'd already come across the article before because of her propensity to read basically every newspaper or journal she could get her hands on. "I read that one when it came out." She watched him to see what reaction he'd give. She'd started to suspect that Aidan was not the original one just because he was like her Sabrina, a bit to much of an extreme, and she'd gathered Tommás was not likely the original either because he was more like Sable. Of course, she could be wrong, especially when she was basing her findings off of the experience she had running three different lives.

((i wrote this on my phone and figured you needed a bit of a break so i waited a bit and made it shorter))

She's trying to get a rise out of me, Brax noted. She wasn't entirely unsuccessful, he'd give her that, but it wasn't because of the wink. "And I Aidan," Aidan -- no, Brax, no... was it Aidan? Yes. Aidan -- said. He hadn't been writing anything on his paper because Brax feared something else may be discovered about his character, but Aidan wouldn't since he was unaware of the presence of the other characters. He took the opportunity to jot down some of what he recalled from the discussion (only this time, he wrote on his arm instead of the paper). It was unclear whether Brax was just getting involved with his character or if he'd actually switched alters, but either way he was fully Aidan now. Analyzing Sabrina in depth could wait until after.

"And yeah, I did write that. Was it any good? I always have trouble telling with my own work."

"Of course you are, sweetheart," Sabrina agreed in the most condescending tone she could manage while mocking his previous facial expression. From someone else, this might have come with a mocking pat on the shoulder. Even Sable wasn't that cruel. Well, not usually. Still, the condescension in the tone was very rude for her as Sabrina. Sabrina shrugged in response to the inquiry regarding his writing. "Well, written prettily, I'll give you that. You didn't mention a good amount of facts or didn't give much detail to them in favor of writing prettily. So good introductory piece but more fluff than informative."

Aidan dropped the argument, not seeing the point in arguing with this woman about what his name was, especially when she didn't believe him. As for his article, Sabrina said it was written prettily, but with few facts. "Hey, that's what I aim for," he said with a grin. "If I wanted to make a living out of this, I'd spend more than fifteen minutes writing and editing the pieces." Aidan shrugged, sipping his still warm-ish beverage. "It's nice pushing the limit for the absolute minimum. See how much crap the people will swallow, you know?" Aidan shrugged again. He did a significant amount of shrugging, he was beginning to realize.