#americano and 2 packets of sugar sometimes more

[twinktosterone]

the hot guy at the cafe has taken to asking me about musicnsvwhwvhwvdejvddv

[thejavatavernseries]

Character Coffees

Another author friend of mine said for character building she always figures out everyone's go-to coffee drinks/morning beverages. So I thought I'd give it a try! I am doing their regular orders from The Java Tavern, though... just for extra fun. :)

I have the characters listed in order from Main Character all the way down to antagonists that make more than one appearance. No spoilers given away for storyline because these are strictly in reference to their characters!

Eliza Woods- Drip coffee. Sometimes she adds a little sugar and creamer depending on the time of day. Her first cup of the day is always black, though.

Bartholomew “Barry” Digby – A strong black tea with two lumps of sugar. If he was still alive, that is. Scones or biscuits.

Khai Enache – Double shot Americano, two pumps Hazelnut, one pump Amaretto, and creamer. With cookies. Any kind of cookies that don’t have dried fruit in them. Khai hates dried fruit in pastries.

Chad Miller – Caramel Latte, typically iced. Rarely hot. And 2, or maybe 3 of whatever pastries look the most appetizing that day.

Phoebe Kirkpatrick – Iced Chai Latte. No matter the weather or time of year. She always tries the new pastry of the day, especially if it’s a new creation that her BFF, Eliza, created. If she’s on the run she’ll pop in for a Baby Muffin and her ice latte.

Charles “Charlie” Hardy – Black drip coffee because it’s free when he’s in uniform, and he’s always in uniform. Sometimes he’ll order half a dozen chocolate chip cookies (to go) with his free coffee. If he’s drinking his coffee in house he’ll grab a piece of pie.

Lexi – Two shots of espresso straight up or she’ll pour them over steamed oat milk with two pumps of caramel, two pumps pumpkin syrups. Seasonally, of course. Lexi likes to follow the flavor trends of the year. Pumpkin, Irish cream, peppermint mocha, you name it. She’ll add those syrups accordingly.

Gregor – Iced drip coffee with creamer and whatever fun concoction of syrups he decides for the day. Gregor likes to mix it up and experiment with his basic drip coffee over ice. Consistent but unexpected, just like Gregor himself. He also prefers any flavor pies to anything else Eliza makes just out of personal preference. Secretly, he thinks the baby muffins are disgusting.

Carly – Cappuccino. Carly is more likely to order a hot tea but some mornings she needs a little coffee in her sugary milk to get her going and that’s perfectly fine. Carly adores the mini cheesecake pies, plain, no toppings.

Nellie – Hot drip coffee with two shots of hazelnut syrup and honey. No cream. Nellie loves the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies and coffee crumble muffins.

Myles – Earl Grey tea with two shots of lavender syrup, on ice or hot depending on the weather. Scones or toasted English muffin with butter. Apple fritters if they’re fresh.

Tara – Caramel Macchiato, extra cream, extra foam. A baby muffin or another savory pastry. Taco pastries are her favorites so she always goes to The Java Tavern on Tuesdays or has Lexi grab her one before they sell out.

Tiffani “Tiff” Harris – Hot chocolate. Tiff doesn’t need coffee. She’s fueled by hate and chaos. Also, she doesn’t eat carbs. How boring.

Talbot Chandler – Double shot of espresso with steamed milk instead of water, two pumps of amaretto and a packet of sugar. Not too hot, will ask for ice cubes to go in his coffee if it is too hot to consume immediately. Talbot always orders a chocolate crescent to go with his very particular coffee order and is livid if there aren’t any available.

Well, there you have it. Everyone's Java Tavern order. That was kind of fun! I really needed think about some of them. A few of the characters have already established their regular beverages in the books, others I had to create from scratch!

[sonipanda]

Before I Begin…

Please don’t think that I am blogging this as I’m getting paid for it or it was some promo thing… I’m not. I wanted to do it as I thought it was a damn good idea to seeing as I was a proper newbie to all these flavours and wanted to write my opinion of it down somewhere. Not only am I a hosiery lover, but I love my food and drink too!

  So I decided to purchase a sample box from Crumpets & Coffee a few days ago, as I’ve been meaning to try their coffee for a while now but never got round to it.

I got it directly from their website: The ‘Coffee Samplers’ Collection

(The link opens in a new tab by the way)

On here, you can find out exactly what you get inside, how many grams worth in each sachets and the flavours.

I received the sample box (it’s so cute) and got the following samples to try:

Coconut Cream

Toffee Deluxe

Gingerbread

Rich Chocolate

Mint Chocolate

Smooth Vanilla

Cuban Rum

Choc Hazelnut

Maple Walnut

  Sample Size

Each of these samples has around 2 cups worth, however I normally don’t have my coffee mega strong so I will be varying the amount on each. It’s entirely upto you how you choose to do this, so please don’t be judging me here!

  How I Make The Fuel

I normally put in how much instant coffee I want, top it with milk, stir until smooth and then add my water in. I never do it coffee, water and then milk as it can burn and sometimes it can taste really cr*p.

Everyone is different; so choose your own way of making it. I thought I would add this in so you know how I’m blogging it.

  Trial Time

As I’m doing rotational weeks at work, I thought this is the best time to trial them all out (rather than at home where I’m on a tea vibe). I normally work 8am-4pm full week and the switch to 7.30am-5.30pm part week – this is where I’m gonna need the coffee the most!

  Sample 1 – Coconut Cream

So I went with Coconut Cream to begin with. I am a massive coconut fan; anything to do with it, I will get so I was eager to test this one out.

I decided to go with 1tsp to start myself off, as sometimes it can be too strong and there is no going back. As soon as you get the water in, you can instantly smell the coconut – pure bliss first thing in the morning!

I didn’t drink it straight away; I don’t know how people can drink boiling coffee, it just burns my tongue off! Anyways, so around 5 minutes later, I’m already eager to slurp away and oh my God! I am loving it! It was kinda weak (obviously!) but you can still get the coconut taste. You can taste the creamy-ness in it too, which is nice if you like denser coffees; I do, so this is just perfect!

Rate out of 10: 10

Link To Buy The Jar: Coconut Cream Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 2 – Toffee Deluxe

Right so this time I went in for the kill; droopy eyes at work and it’s not even hit 11am! I went for half the sample pack, which is around 2 ½ – 3 tsp.

Once again, as soon as the water goes in, the aroma is lingering around the kitchen!

After another 5 minute wait (goodness sake) I get slurping (I don’t actually slurp by the way, I just like saying that term LOL!) and this is good!!! It’s got that sweet taste and then comes the coffee kick.

This is one for those who like syrups in their coffee instead of sugar. Every time I go for a coffee, I always have to have some sort of syrup in there to stop me adding in sugar (unless it’s Starbucks coffee then I’ll have it a straight Americano).

Sweet-toothers, this is a good one for you to try!

 Rate Out Of 10: 8

 Link To Buy The Jar: Toffee Deluxe Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 3 – Gingerbread

Yesssssssssss finally trying the gingerbread. I am a sucker for gingerbread; I love it. Anything ginger is right up my street (along with Coconut of course!) I normally have to wait around Autumn/Winter to get anything ginger put into coffee from coffee shops, but it’s nice that I have it on demand now!

Now the good thing about this one is that as soon as you rip the seal at the top to open the packet, you instantly smell the gingerbread wafting out (and by the way the pouch isn’t actually open yet!)

I did 2 ½ tsp (so half the pouch) into my mug, milk then water and waited 5 minutes for it to slightly cool down.

This is one I would recommend to those who like depth to their coffee; I didn’t find that bitter coffee taste you can get afterwards and this has a lot of flavour. The gingerbread isn’t sweet and it quite strong, like you’re actually eating it in a cookie form. I found this to be smooth and deep and really nice actually. I just needed whip cream on top to finish it off nicely!

 Rate Out Of 10: 9

Link To Buy The Jar: Gingerbread Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 4 – Rich Chocolate

Okay so a little hesitant about this one as I’m not a chocolate and coffee person, but I will give it a go to say that I’ve tried it at least!

I went with 1 ½ tsp of this good stuff instead of half the pouch just in case!

So 5 minutes later, and already I smell the chocolate. I don’t know whether I like it or not to be honest, it’s a weird on!

Okay so slurp slurp away, and I just get the coffee hit. I only get a subtle hint of the chocolate, which I suppose is not a bad thing for me but could be for you if you love this stuff! I would have put half the pouch in to get the full flavour, but I’m actually happy with this amount. When you go to drink it, you can smell the chocolate, but in terms of taste it’s very very subtle and then the aftertaste is the chocolate.

 Rate Out Of 10: 7

Link To Buy The Jar: Rich Chocolate Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 5 – Mint Chocolate

So this time I got my friend to try it out with me in the office; and this one I am looking forward to! I love mint, especially when it’s subtle! We decided to do 2 ½ tsp each this time (basically using the packet between us).

5 minutes on… You get a subtle hint of the mint flowing through the air whilst I’m waiting for this to slightly cool down. My friend decided to go straight in and burnt her tongue bless her so she had to wait a little longer.

Now this one isn’t as strong as you think it would be; it’s smooth, it’s subtle, it’s actually very nice! I got more of the coffee flavour come through, but I didn’t find it bitter. If you like the strong hit-you-in-the-face then you might wanna whack some more coffee into that cup because 2 ½ tsp won’t be enough for you here!

 Rate Out Of 10: 8

Link To Buy The Jar: Mint Chocolate Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 6 – Smooth Vanilla

Once again me and my friend decided to try this one together; she is a fan of Vanilla and to be fair, I can be if the Vanilla is the right kind. I can be quite fussy!

We did 2 heaped tsp each in bigger mugs this time (I think we should have put more in, but we ended up running out of the stuff)!

So like the gingerbread, as soon as you rip the seal off (before you get into the packet) you instantly smell the good stuff; it’s not as rich and potent as some Vanilla’s can be. I found it to be lovely!

5 minutes later… This vanilla is good! It makes the coffee subtle and smooth rather than bitter and blah! If you’re after a strong coffee, then add in more granules. I thought this was great for the size mug we had each and the amount we put in.

 Rate Out Of 10: 9

Link To Buy The Jar: Smooth Vanilla Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 7 – Cuban Rum

Not gonna lie here, but I am actually not too keen to try this one. A part of me does as it sounds interesting, but a big part of me doesn’t want to as it doesn’t sound appealing to me.

As soon as I ripped off the seal, I got this really hardcore scent from the packet; it was a bit sweet, a bit in your face, a bit too strong for my liking.

I used 1 ½ heaped tsp in my mug because I thought it would be enough, and I am so glad I didn’t add in any extra!

5 minutes later… I am not liking this. The smell is just not to my taste, and well as soon as I started sipping, I couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. There was some sweet, there was something dead strong (and no not on about the coffee here) and then it became all toned down and normal. I have to admit it was a weird cup. I can’t say that this was one that I liked to be honest.

 Rate Out Of 10: 5

Link To Buy The Jar: Cuban Rum Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 8 – Choc Hazelnut

Bring on the chocolateeeeee! I am excited to try this one out as I love hazelnut, especially in coffee! I went to rip off the seal, to then smell this amazing really sweet scent of coffee coming through! I am dying to try this one!

Now being sensible, I don’t want to full overload, so I did 1 ½ heaped tsp in my mug and waited patiently… for 3 minutes this time!

I went in and oh my God! This is proper sweet! You wouldn’t think it being chocolate and hazelnut which can be quite dulled down in coffee, but this is slightly overpowering to begin with and once you swallow, it then tones down and has a lovely aftertaste to it.

I’m glad I didn’t add in any extra coffee as this was just enough to get that sweet hit from it; any more and I don’t think I would have enjoyed it as much.

 Rate Out Of 10: 8

Link To Buy The Jar: Chocolate Hazelnut Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Sample 9 – Maple Walnut

And the finale – maple walnut! I left this one till last as I thought it would be sweet as anything and I was gonna go for it when I needed it the most (on my 7.30am shift pattern!)

I added in 2 tsp of this stuff (maybe I should have added less if this is gonna be really sweet) but we’re gonna roll with it.

As soon as you pop the coffee in the cup, you get a whiff of how sweet this is (that’s the maple attacking your nose) but I couldn’t get the walnut. That might be a hit I will experience later.

After 5 minutes, I went in … and I am amazed. This is not how I expected it to be at all; you get a deep walnutty taste with a small dose of maple afterwards. I thought I went overboard with how much coffee I put in, but this is just the right amount for sure. It’s not too sweet or too bitter, it’s literally just right! I absolutely love it! I have to say this gets full marks!

 Rate Out Of 10: 10

Link To Buy The Jar: Maple Walnut Flavoured Instant Coffee

  Would I Recommend?

Yep I certainly would. If you’re not too sure which one to get, then I would suggest trialling them out with this sample set and you will be able to find the perfect one for you.

Or give it as a gift to someone who loves coffee – you can’t go wrong!

Crumpets & Coffee : The ‘Coffee Samplers’ Collection

Crumpets & Coffee : The Coffee Samplers Collection – Taste Test Before I Begin... Please don't think that I am blogging this as I'm getting paid for it or it was some promo thing...

[goodlawdmaude]

Madrid, Spain

Day 1 (3/24)

After landing in Madrid, navigating our way to our AirBnB, and napping for two hours, Jarod and I were woken up around 1:30pm by a knock at the door. Our host had told us that a man named Ous would come to clean the apartment at 2pm. What she didn’t mention was that Ous--while incredibly nice--did not speak any English. In a mixture of Spanish and charades, we managed to agree that we would leave the apartment for an hour so that he could clean. 

In a daze, we piled on our layers (it’s cold in Madrid in March!!) and headed out. We walked through the Barrio (neighborhood) of La Lavapies and into La Latina, walking until we came to La Real Basílica de San Francisco el Grande. We sat in a plaza on the South side of the church, admiring the structure’s large, yellow dome and resting our very weary bones. From there, we wandered North past El Palacio Real de Madrid, through La Plaza de Oriente, and finally back through the center of Madrid to our apartment. 

Even though my body was dull with exhaustion, taxed heavily by the previous day/night, I was awestruck by the beautiful city streets and extravagant monuments. Everything was picturesque. There were balconies on every building with ferns growing in ornate pots and flower beds snuggled up against decorative railings. At crosswalks and through cafe windows, I saw people smoking cigarettes and sipping espressos; talking quickly, excitedly, rhythmically with wide eyes and exaggerated hand gestures. We were in a new place, and I was stoked to explore it!! 

By now, it was around 4:30pm, and we were hungry. We set off in search of a restaurant nearby and found two whose kitchens were closed. This was our first inconvenient encounter with ~siesta~. Even hungrier now, we found a market and bought tortellini and vegetables to cook back at the apartment. That night, we were in bed by 8:30. 

Day 2 (3/25)

Our first real (still surreal) morning in Madrid, we woke up at a reasonably early hour after an unreasonably excessive amount of sleep. We made eggs at home, then went to a nearby cafe recommended by our host, Maria. Again, it felt like there was culture everywhere. The people around us were dressed neatly in scarves and hats and boots (still freezing!), ordering pastries and warm drinks, dipping the former into the latter and eating them slowly and gracefully. Here, we each got two coffees and drank them quietly, soaking up the environment around us. I admit I was (I still am) a bit self conscious; I didn’t want to speak too much or too loudly in my ugly American accent and identify myself as an obnoxious outsider. 

At this cafe, we started to suspect that coffee in Spain is different than coffee in the US. In Spain, a coffee is served small in a cute little teacup on a saucer with a packet of sugar on the side. You can order a couple different variants--cafe solo (shot of espresso), cafe americano (still small), or cafe con leche (larger, but half milk)--but there is no order that will get you a giant mug of good old fashioned black coffee. (”Cafe negro” will get you the prompt: “Cafe Americano?” to which you will nod, confused and disappointed when you get a tiny teacup of slightly diluted espresso.) I digress. 

From the cafe, we headed to El Museo Del Prado, where we spent hours admiring--or more often puzzling over --thousands of paintings. My favorite was a small piece, entitled “The Painter’s Children,” which portrayed two young girls lounging on a futon, one wrapped in a pretty Japanese blanket, the other sprawled on a cushion. Jarod’s was a huge portrait of a Roman (??) leader dead in a bathtub--a suicide referenced as honorable in The Godfather. 

When we thought we might die of hunger, we tore ourselves from the Prado despite only seeing (maybe) half of the art on display. We wandered up the street and into a tapas restaurant. This was when we truly started embracing Spanish culture with a mid-day glass of wine and four sequential plates of tapas rich with meats, cheeses, and oil. This was also when I learned that a “Russian salad” does not contain lettuce, but lots of potatoes and mayonnaise. 

We went back to our apartment, took naps (Jarod) and studied the city (Lizzy). Still feeling full and generally out of sorts, we headed to the Santa Ana square//Barrio de Las Letras (the literary district, where the paving stones of the main street are engraved with some of the best known lines from 16th and 17th century Spanish literature). We got mixed drinks and a plate of tortillas and hummus at a hipster joint full of trendy young people, then proceeded to a lively gin bar called Carbones 13, where we each had a gin and tonic--the first that I have ever truly liked. 

We stopped at home briefly before rushing out to catch an authentic live flamenco performance at a bar on our corner, El Candela. We put our names down to reserve seats, then had half an hour to kill before the performance started. We spent that time in a lively, divey Bodega (wine bar) down the block. Our drinks were cheap (5€ for two) and came with a plate of potato chips. 

The performance itself was fabulous. There were only 4 people on stage and only one who danced. It was the first flamenco I’ve ever seen live, and I was struck by the drama of the production. The dancer’s heels banged loudly on the hollow stage floor, the tassels of her outfit swung wildly as she moved, and her face and hands were full of intense emotion. The crowd shouted “ole!” and the end of each piece--and sometimes during--to show their appreciation and admiration. (I didn’t know that was a real thing, but I loved it.)

After, we went home and stayed up a while longer, confused as to what time zone we were in. Suddenly, it seemed quite late--3 or 4am--but we were not exactly to be counted on to know the time. Little did we know, day lights savings had occurred that night; a phenomenon which would further confuse us in the morning. 

Day 3 (3/26)

We woke up around 10am, with 1pm lunch reservations at one of the oldest restaurants in the world quickly approaching. Jarod was a little hungover as we embarked towards Botín for our lunch date. He ordered shrimp, which came with the legs and heads still attached. Decapitating them was a task that hungover Jarod liked even less than spry Jarod would have. I ordered cod, which was smothered in a soup of delicious tomato sauce and was impractically humongous (I am notorious for clearing my plate and could only eat half). We drank half a pitcher of sangria--which may have been ambitious given the night before, but when on vacation...--and finished the meal up with a DIVINE chocolate mousse cake. The meal was tasty, but pricey (80€) and the restaurant itself was lovely, but packed with tourists (ourselves among them). It didn't turn out to be quite the cultural endeavor I had imagined, although we did see (what I imagine to be) some very traditional Spanish dishes, such as "baby squid, cooked in his own ink." Harsh.

After lunch, we went in search of Madrid's famous flea market: El Rastro. I had the driving interest in El Rastro, but had done a poor job of researching the actual location (I knew it was in La Latina from 10am-3pm... And not much else). In our search for the market, we stumbled upon a giant amphitheater type hole in the ground, covered in weeds and graffiti and tattooed young people. There were two guys playing live music, the speaker too weak to allow us to hear them from the entrance ramp on which we stood. It was a little silly, but I felt alive being there, like I was seeing an authentic, grimy part of modern life in Madrid.

With Jarod's guidance, we finally found El Rastro as it was closing down. We walked through the stalls of leathers, rugs, fans, and clothing, admiring everything but avoiding wanting anything (I could hardly order coffee for myself let alone haggle with a street vendor). At the end of the road, we found ourselves at an old tobacco factory, La Tabacaleria, that had long ago shut down and repurposed as an art gallery. Atlas Obscura had called this out as one of the hidden gems worth seeing in Madrid, and there was no entry fee, so we headed in.

The art exhibit was eerie--one piece was a TV hung from the rafters and entwined in a chain, broadcasting silent black and white footage--fitting for the cold and dark hallways of La Tabacaleria. There were lots of other videos in Spanish (which we didn't watch), but also some cool images of Mayan ruins (which interested me more).

When we finally got back home, we siesta'd--as is the Spanish way--and woke up some time later, ready to get our first real exercise in. We went to the Parque Del Buen Retiro, and ran around its perimeter, then walked through the interior, stopping to admire the Palacio De Velazquez, Palacio De Crystal, and a man-made lake--full of couples in paddle boats--that flanks the Monumento a Alfonso XII.

Our stomachs were still very confused so we elected to make dinner at home that evening, stopping by the market for rice, chicken, and vegetables. 

Day 4 (3/27)

By day 4, you would think we would have at least somewhat adjusted to Spanish time. And in a way we had: we were waking up late, taking naps in the afternoon, and staying up later. So on day 4, we slept in. When we finally tore ourselves from the cozy den of bed, it was around 11am. We still needed coffee, so we headed out towards La Plaza Mayor and stepped into a coffee shop along the way. 

From the Plaza, we headed out to revisit the west side of Madrid: the Royal Palace we had seen on day 1 in a daze, the old theater (Teatro Real) we had missed entirely, and the Egyptian temple (Templo De Debod) we hadn't known about. After walking for several hours, we were famished. We came home, pooled some leftovers to snack on, then exercised in our living room and cleaned up in preparation for our impending departure.

We headed out for our final dinner. We planned to go to Museo Chicote: an old restaurant and “Madrid landmark” frequented by famous people (Ernest Hemingway among them). However, it was closed (as are a lot of shops and restaurants on Monday in Madrid, apparently). We backtracked to the literary district and chose a restaurant called "La Vinoteca." Obviously. There, we feasted on shared plates of cheesy croquettes, flavorful meatballs, and crostini topped with mozzarella and tomato. On the way home, we stopped at a nearby Bodega, which was dark but inviting and buzzing with activity. And with that, our time in Madrid had come to an end. We packed and prepared for our jarringly early 530am wake-up the next day, after which we would take the metro to the airport and fly to Porto, Portugal. 

[waldos-writing]

The Dig Initiative: Chapter 12

The Recruit

The agent ordered a non-fat soy milk Frappuccino with double shot of espresso and vanilla whip cream, drowned the bitch in caramel and grabbed a fistful of sugar packets. Olsen just wanted an Americano. The woman didn’t know how to live. The agent stabbed through the caramel and whip cream with his straw before sucking down a big gulp of sugar and fat and chemicals. The soy milk was supposed to help his stomach. Didn’t work. He never guessed why. It was so damn good.

Olsen picked a table near the windows. The sun was out and, for once, it didn’t feel like an oppressive world of white and gray. The agent checked his watch. April 26th, 10 am. It wasn’t the latest winter they’d had, but it was dragging on and he was glad to see it finally go. The snow was melting so everything was watery and if it wasn’t watery it was salty from the road salt and if it wasn’t that then it was mud. Nothing could be good without a price. Their shoes were caked in dirty slush. Still, coffee was good.

“I heard it was tower 171, out there near the county line,” said the agent, sipping little bits of coffee through the strain of whip cream. “That’s a long ass way out there. It would be hard to know it went offline for a while.”

“Anybody with a truck. That’s all it takes.”

“Sure,” he said and shrugged. “Just, you know, who the hell thought about taking down a CleanAire tower? Like, fuck, we need those, don’t we? To breathe?”

“Apparently,” said Agent Olsen.

She was distant that day. There were times she was chatty and excited and in your face about whatever was on her mind. Had to be she was a manic depressive kinda chick before the fever. Nobody at Locke Security liked to play that game, but the agent was always guessing who people were before. This one was a psychopath, that one was depressed as shit. Some of them had to have heard voices or seen stuff or whatever whatever whatever. It was all in good fun.

The agent used to pull his hair out in the morning as part of his rituals, because if he was bald then he wouldn’t have to drive to the barber shop and get into a car accident and kill a kid in the crosswalk he didn’t see because he was too obsessed looking at his reflection in the mirror and making sure there wasn’t anything on his face that would get him fired so he couldn’t pay his rent and end up on the street and robbing a stranger at gunpoint to make ends meet. He washed his hands so that none of the germs infected a friend at work who might have cancer and an autoimmune disease and he’d murder them with a handshake or a pat on the back and he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he’d killed someone. Couldn’t keep his house clean to save his life. Too busy keeping himself clean, clean, clean for the safety of everyone else. Good fun.

“So how many groups do you think there are?” Olsen asked without taking a sip.

Theory for the coffee was that she just wanted it to look like she belonged. Maybe she wanted it to warm her hands and keep her grounded. There were little tricks that leaked over from before the fever, little human moments encrypted in the muscles and the blood. The agent still ticked his head to the left now and again or snapped his fingers, stimulating himself as a comfort. He was lucky that the twitch was the only holdover from what it used to be. At least he wasn’t pulling his hair, right? And he got his hands dirty all the time. Sometimes it was okay.

The agent was almost certain she didn’t enjoy the taste of coffee. He slurped some of the caramel off the whip cream as a show of a delicious alternative, even if it was going to make his stomach gurgle and cramp later on. It was good. If she just paid attention.

“Not sure yet,” the agent answered after he swallowed. “How come nobody’s picking up on rogue NARA projects outside the facilities?”

“They probably have,” she said with an eye roll. “Nobody’s saying anything.”

“Because we’re the newbies, right?”

“Probably.”

“Sexist pigs!” But that wasn’t right; Olsen’s face said it all. “Racists!” Nope, not that. “Bunch of bastards.”

“Yeah, well,” she said and rolled her palms across the hot paper cup. “Give me a rough estimate, how about that?”

“Fifty-eight,” he answered. It was a shot in the dark nothing-number. “I dunno, honestly. First day I was there, they were poking each other, you know, how you see in the testing centers. There were, hmm, ten or so I could see. I’ve got two positives at least.”

“At least,” she echoed. This was only funny because he was the augmenter. Neither of them laughed, though. “What about the head guy?”

“Father Barkley?” The agent scoffed, accidentally spitting some of his Frappuccino. He took from a wad of napkins at the table and smeared away the mess on his chin. “Sorry. Uh, he’s nobody. I don’t know, doesn’t act like a priest.”

“He wouldn’t,” she said.

Olsen knew about this guy. She knew a lot about him, more than she let on, and he wasn’t sure why this bothered him. Maybe because they were a team and they had to share everything just to survive. It felt selfish to keep something to herself, but that was her life. The agent didn’t think he had secrets, and he did, but he thought he didn’t. He drank his coffee.

“So,” he said, slurping some more, “what’s the next part?”

“Mm,” she said and looked down at the lid to her coffee. “Just keep on reporting for now.”

“That’s boring as shit, Olsen.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “It is.”

“Then you go do it.”

“I don’t want to,” she said.

“That’s bullshit, Olsen.”

“It is.”

He wasn’t actually mad. It was a show, is all, and he had to make sure to keep testing those emotions, keep pushing back against the dynamic to ensure he was still all there. All the other augmenters just became stiff robotic shadows to their talented partners. The agent wasn’t going to let himself become that.

Olsen threw away her cup of Americano, untouched. The agent tossed his after hers and dusted his hands, up and down and up and down on his suit. The sky was already bubbling up with white clouds, ready to converge into a flat matte bank of gray. They had enjoyed their time in the sun, as brief as it was. The agent agreed to meet her tomorrow morning at the same place if she agreed to get something she’d actually drink.

“Never,” she said and smiled only with her mouth and not her eyes.

“Alright, Olsen,” he said, and waived.

They went separate ways down the sidewalk and, as they did, the rain had come back. Olsen undid an umbrella, kept it over her head as she disappeared into a crowd. The agent popped his collar a little and shielded his eyes until they had adjusted, but there was nothing else he could do but trudge on. There was a bus stop close by. He’d hide out in the shelter until the red line made its round and took him closer to the soup kitchen so he could check in on the little nest growing. There was a stick of gum in his pocket, which he fetched and unfolded and popped in his mouth, ignoring the gritty sand that had managed to get in under the wrapper.

It was close to 2 pm when the agent made it to the soup kitchen. He slipped in through the side door near the dumpster he’d been beaten by for allegedly stealing bread. The lights were only half on, near the kitchen and the first tables. A lot of the people inside were huddled under the lights, crowded in but saying nothing.

“Hey,” he said to the closest person, “what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” said the woman next to him and jerked her shoulder away from him in a big hurry.

“Right,” he said. Rude. He turned to someone else. “What’s going on? Why are the lights off?”

“Micha’s at it again,” said a man to his left as he scratched his face. Before the agent could ask who Micha was, the man pointed into the shadows across the cafeteria.

It wasn’t exactly dark yet. There was still some light coming through the windows, even as cold and rainy as it was out there. It was simply the juxtaposition between the overhead lights and the dark corners that made it seem a more severe contrast. So the agent had to squint a little to see the shapes of people standing in the corner, which only made them bruised outlines. There was a lump sitting on a table with arms raised.

“What the hell’s he doing?”

“He just does this,” said the man and scratched at his nose, turning back to a friend.

The people in the light did not seem bothered by the people in the dark. They stood around and talked or they sat at the tables and talked or they did neither of those things and said nothing. Someone was leaning against a wall and he certainly wasn’t talking.

The people in the dark just looked like they were sitting there. They were all crowded around the table where Micha was raising his hands, spreading out a strong influential field. He was the gray kid from before. The woman with the round glasses was next to him, a hand on his knee. It looked like the gray kid still had a nasty head wound and he’d been picking at it. They were all humming quietly, a beehive under a bucket under another bucket and buried in loose dirt. It was just there, playing under everything, not quite disturbing everyone else. The agent leaned into it, wondering why nobody noticed.

“What’s he doing?” the agent asked quietly only to have the man who was scratching his nose answer, “Just prayer shit. Leave him alone.”

The sun was trying to set. Some of the volunteers were louder in the kitchen, banging pots together or unloading the big industrial dishwasher. They did not come out into the main cafeteria. Nobody was really supervised because the priest, Father Barkley, had fucked off. The whole humming thing was just happening. The agent started to go towards the shadows when the man scratching his nose reached out and stopped him.

“Wait,” he said.

“Hey. What, why?”

“Just watching out for your health,” he said and let go of the agent’s arm.

“Health?”

“Ah, they all gotta cold. Spreading between them like wildfire. So we told ‘em to stay over there and we’ll stay over here.”

“What, that’s so stupid.” The agent stared at them in the shadows. “You’re breathing the same air. You’re gonna get sick too.”

“Oh well,” the guy answered and shrugged. “Is what we have, so.”

“That’s so dumb,” the agent said. He tried counting their heads to give Olsen a number. “You’ll all be sick. What does he think he’s doing? I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“You do, you better not come back to this side,” said the man.

“I’ll do whatever, okay? It’s the same air! You’re so dumb!”

But he stayed put, watching them. He had the number. He had the place. The agent wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. Any minute now the ones who couldn’t turn were going to get the fever and go up in a bad way. He wondered if he should convince them to leave the shelter or force Micha and his crew out. Someone coughed and someone else suddenly fell over. They all just kept humming, real low and real persistent.

“Christ, I gotta get Olsen here.”

As he said it, the gray kid whipped his head back and stared hard at the agent from the shadows. The agent almost backed away, almost, but he wasn’t really in danger. He’d already been infected. He kept his ground and crossed his arms as if to say so what, punk?

Careful, a voice whispered across the cafeteria. It was a beam of sound shot right to him. He didn’t flinch, not outwardly. The little shit was an EM. Thought he would scare the predator, well, what did he know? It will hurt.

“Hey, is that a threat?” the agent asked as his head jerked to the side. No, come on, where was the control? He had control. He was the control. He was an augmenter Black Jacket; he knew what he was doing.

“What’s wrong with you?” the guy next to him asked.

“What? I’m not the idiot breathing the same air as those people.”

“Maybe you need to go over on their side if you’re going to be weird about it.”

“Yeah, maybe you need to shut your face,” said the agent and took a seat, his back to the nest. Whatever fuss the agent was putting up seemed like too much of a hassle for the old homeless guy. He made a noise, a loud “baaaah” and waived the agent off like a bad memo from the bank. It was good. The agent decided he was just going to sit there quietly, back to Micha, and wait for something real bad to happen before he raced out of there to tattle to Olsen. She was the active talent, right? So she knew what to do.

Another person fell over. Hot meaty bag of human garbage was being boiled alive. Poor suckers. The whole place was going to be shit soon.

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