Point of Impact, Deathbucks Cafe! [Sierra Maybine]

[STONE MARKS!]

It was another average Saturday night at Death City's famous coffee shop, Deathbucks Cafe. The place was bustling with dozens of people, since 'average night' at Deathbucks really meant 'very crowded and busy', due to it being one of the major gathering places in the city for normal humans and DWMA students alike. Waitresses zipped past the tables and booths carrying trays of paper cups holding a wide variety of the coffee that had made the shop famous while the patrons drank and talked loudly amongst themselves. Rarely did a minute go by without at least one person erupting into laughter at some conversation. All-in-all, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, and even most of the waitresses were wearing genuine smiles.

There was one person, however, that most certainly did not share the rest of the room's good spirits, and understandably so; no one liked being stood up. Stone Marks, the hot-headed demon lantern shield, was sitting at a booth in the front off the store, left shoulder pressed against to the window-wall beside his booth, elbow propped up against the table in front of him to rest his chin on his palm. Clutched in his right hand was a cup of french vanilla coffee in the largest size they served, though it had gone largely untouched, and the contents had long since gone cold. His expression was the epitome of annoyance and irritation, his brow so furrowed and lips in so grim a line that all the waitresses had instinctively begun giving his booth a wide berth. His gaze was focused intently out the window, though he didn't appear to be staring at anything in particular. He'd been like that for almost an hour by this point, and it was rather obvious that, since their meeting had been scheduled for an hour and a half prior, the little blonde girl he'd met earlier that day wasn't going to show.

Suddenly, the temper his family was renowned for decided that it was finally time to take hold of him. Steel plates tore down his right arm from his shoulder in a clatter of metallic noise, covering the appendage in an excessively bulky suit of cannon armor (arm plate armor) finished off by an equally large gauntlet. The sound was loud and strange enough that half the room had already fallen quiet and turned their eyes toward the source of the sound, just in time to see Stone mercilessly crush the cup in his metal hand, cold coffee spraying the table below and shooting high up into the air in equal measure before raining down on the entire booth. Pretty soon everyone had fallen silent and had decided to stare. Stone's posture hadn't changed a bit aside from the partial transformation of his arm and the crushing of the cup. He hadn't even blinked as some of the droplets of coffee had plopped down on his head. He was as deathly silent as the rest of the room.

Then, as suddenly as his outburst had begun it had ended, signified by Stone relaxing his position, slouching back in the chair, and looking up at the ceiling with a broad grin. "Well damn," he said with a chuckle, "Looks like I've been stood up, doesn't it?" His head swung in the direction of the rest of the room, tilted off to the side as his amber gaze swept across the people staring at him from above his grin. Some of the people even jumped a bit as he addressed the the room by repeating in a good-humored voice, "Doesn't it?" However, the following amused-sounding burst of laughter from him coupled with the way he turned to gaze back out the window with a calm smirk on his face caused a few of the other patrons to begin chuckling with him, some genuine while from others it sounded nervous and forced. Pretty soon everything had returned to normal, and while his outburst was the topic of several conversations, it went otherwise forgotten. The only thing that didn't return to normal was his armored right arm, which still had a death grip on the poor cup.

[SIERRA!]

The young strawberry blonde stormed down the streets of Death City with an irritable gleam in her eyes. She was late to a very important date; a date involving a weapon. What rotten luck. She hadn't the slightest idea whether or not the fiery redhead she met beforehand was a man of patience, but she certainly did not want to wear it thinner than she already has. As she marched through a miniature crowd of people, she violently shredded the wrapping on her sandwich and took an enormous bite, chewing the contents with an aggressive jaw.

The main reason she was an hour late for her meeting just happened to be surrounded by a series of events. First, she had a difficult time getting here. A flock of punks decided to attempt to steal her purse which, of course, didn't fly with Sierra. It took her approximately five minutes to beat their butts to the curb, but that was the least of her worries. Then there was the little lost child whom couldn't find his mother. Sierra wasn't heartless and, after much deliberation, decided to assist him. It took her nearly a half an hour until they finally came across his mother who granted her with the most promising reward of all: money. Oh boy, does Sierra love her cash.

Then Sierra figured since she was oh so incredibly hungry, she'd stop by a nearby store to order herself a sandwich. However, the clerk manifesting her sandwich kept getting the order wrong. Once he finally managed to make it accordingly, she was already an hour late. She was tired of being weaponless, especially since she had an arduous time stranger searching for someone who could sync with her soul wavelength. And now, after finding someone who might be the perfect match she'd been searching for, she might lose him. Just the thought of it caused her eye to twitch.

Zipping around the corner, she finally made it to Deathbucks Cafe. She burst in through the entrance, scanning the room for the fiery redhead she was oh so willing to meet. "Hello," A young brunette with long curly hair approached her with a wide smile. "Welcome to Deathbucks Cafe! How may I help you today?" Sierra leaned forward and inquired, "Has a fiery redhead popped by here? I told him I'd meet him here, but I'm a bit late." The waitress took a moment to quickly glance around the cafe, then suddenly a light flickered in her hazel eyes. "Oh, yes," Her expression dropped. "He's sitting back there. Caused quite a commotion a few minutes before you arrived." Sierra traced the direction in which the waitress was pointing. Her eyes widened in surprise once she caught sight of someone similar to his features sitting in a booth located in the far back of the cafe. Sierra scurried past hasty waitresses and merry citizens until she finally reached her destination. There he was, sitting alone leaning his shoulder against the window-wall tapping his metal plated fingers along the table top. His mien suggested that he was pissed, but she couldn't blame him. She'd be pissed if she were the one waiting in a booth for an hour. "Hey," Sierra announced, crossing her arms taught to her chest. "Wipe that scowl off your face, you're scaring the children."