Work Text:
“I’d like a bagel.”
Adaine’s eyes twitch. “For the last time,” she grits out, trying desperately not to blow up in anger, “we only sell strudels. What part of Oodles of Strudel makes you think we sell bagels?”
Tail flicking aimlessly behind her, Kalina only fixes Adaine with an impassive stare. “Well maybe you should expand then. New business venture.”
“That’s not my decision to make,” Adaine states, rubbing a hand against her throbbing temple as she levels a glare at Kalina. “And besides, why do you keep bothering me?”
Working her minimum wage, graveyard shift job is already bad enough. Adaine hates every minute of it, even if she’s been trying to put up a good front and prove to her friends otherwise. It’s not that bad, she’s been telling them over the last few days, especially when she had shown up at school one day with a healing burn wound on her arm. Thank god for cleric-wizard multiclassers, Adaine supposes. I get to bring some free strudel back home with me. And who doesn’t like free strudel?
Adaine doesn’t. Maybe she used to, a few days ago, but now she doesn’t. She kind of hates the taste of strudel now.
Adaine can usually bear with her job, though — keyword being usually. Because right now, as of starting her shift, Kalina has been repeatedly coming up to bother her.
It started out simple enough, with the tabaxi ordering a strudel for Cassandra, who has been ceaselessly trying to appeal to wizards to consider following her for the past few hours. But then Kalina kept coming back. Asking for another strudel, this time with sauce. Taking a bite of it before leaving it there for Adaine to clean up. Coming back to ask her if they sold anything else. Coming back to ask her about Kristen (which— Adaine doesn’t fucking know what her friend’s doing. That’s none of her business), then to ask her about herself (why?) until finally, asking her about things completely unrelated to what she’s doing.
In response to Adaine’s question, Kalina blinks at her, before giving her a lazy smirk. “Because it’s fun,” she says, dropping the act. Climbing up onto the front counter, to which Adaine yelps in outrage about because god, she’s going to get in so much trouble if Kalina accidentally knocks anything over, Kalina leans back, tail flicking lazily from side to side. “That, and… well, if you’re sick of selling strudel for a measly few silver coins an hour, I have a much better proposition for you.”
She shouldn’t indulge. Adaine should really just chase Kalina off the counter, maybe using that spray bottle of water she has to clean up things in the back. She should kick her out and get back to work, letting herself dissociate as she cuts people more and more strudel.
But also, Adaine is bored. There are no customers queueing up, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone approaching, and fuck, she’s sick of this. Her friends are prepping for the party of the year and she’s not there and she can’t even use her crystal while she’s on the clock.
So sue her. She caves.
“What do you want?” Adaine doesn’t bother hiding the hostility in her words as she levels Kalina with a hard stare. On the counter, Boggy also keeps glaring at Kalina. Adaine lets him. It’s enrichment.
“As you probably know,” Kalina begins, “Cassandra’s very upset right now.”
“Because Kristen isn’t here?”
“Because Kristen isn’t here.”
“And how is that my problem?” At that, Kalina narrows her eyes at Adaine. She sighs. “Look,” Adaine begins, folding her arms across the counter, “Cassandra is a perfectly lovely goddess, far better than some other deities out there—”
“Naturally.”
“—but how is this my problem? You—” She groans. “Kalina, I am a minimum wage food worker. I am on the clock right now. What the hell do you want me to do?”
Kalina hums. Her tail flicks lazily.
Adaine resists the urge to shove her off the counter.
“…You could pledge to follow her,” Kalina finally says, green eyes glinting as she fixes Adaine with a look.
And the thing is— Cassandra is a perfectly lovely goddess. Adaine has had a few interactions with her before, mainly because whenever Kristen would shut her out, Cassandra would have to ask one of them to help talk to her cleric on her behalf — usually Adaine or Fig, with their inclination for magic. If Adaine was something else, like a cleric or a warlock, then maybe she’d have considered Kalina’s offer. Maybe she’d have done something.
But right now, Adaine is a disgruntled, annoyed, underpaid worker with no current plans to entangle herself in a crumbling religion.
“How about another strudel instead?” Adaine says instead, her voice flat.
A scowl. “Those things are disgusting,” Kalina says, pushing herself off the counter.
Raising her voice as she watches the tabaxi depart, Adaine yells—
“Then why did you even order it in the first place?!”