born of jealousy

Being on Manta Carlos was supposed to be a fresh start for Scott. Which, as much as he hated it, meant him also getting a job.

He had answered the bakery's call for help, knowing something about the craft from the houses he was adopted into during his time with each new face. But he couldn't help but be afraid as he walked in. The son of envy kept his composure as he quietly entered the shop, taking a look around. He tried to dress reasonably nice for the occasion, wearing the darkest jeans he had and the only dressy clothes he owned - a white button up and a dark blue vest. Something others had stressed was always make a good impression... But right then, Scott didn't have much beyond what he brought in that backpack and a single rolling piece of luggage.

"Hello?" The demon approached the woman, keeping his voice steady despite his anxiety.

below the sun

born of jealousy

It felt weird to be in a bakery he knew he would actually have to remember. Coming here was a bit of a walk and an awkward experience - asking three or four people for directions since he couldn't exactly use Google Maps to find where he was going. Cause, you know, secret supernatural island hidden by magic and all. Thankfully some people on the street were friendly enough to direct him to exactly where he needed to be. If he hadn't been looking for the shop he figured he would have missed it.

The young man extended his hand and gave her a firm shake, remembering the suggestion to always keep his gaze on theirs. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Scott Fitzgerald -yeah, like the old author." He laughed softly at his own name, putting the hand back down to his side.

"I'm glad to be here. You said you were looking for some people to help around the shop?" Scott asked.

below the sun

born of jealousy

"I have to agree. I read it for a class once and honestly I wanted to die while reading some chapters." Scott sighed, shaking his head. He hated that book not because he found it dull but because the American Educational system ruined it by forcing him to analyze it until he hated every page. Why did English classes have to ruin good literature? He sweat dropped at the question. "Everyone already called me Scott. When I came here I needed a surname so someone just said Fitzgerald so I took it. Nothing exciting."

He sat across from the other and listened. He figured this would be their interview to show that he was not completely unreliable, so the demon was not entirely sure what this was supposed to be. Not daring to touch the food, he just set his hands in his lap since he was slightly anxious about doing something so casual like putting his arms on the table.

"Truthfully I thought this was going to be the interview, so I'm confused now." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.. "I know some things about baking, but not much."

below the sun

born of jealousy

Scott shifted awkwardly at the mention of the food, carefully moving over and taking one of the pastries and a napkin. He used the napkin as a plate, breaking it in half and then into another small piece. He quietly put the piece in his mouth as he watched with the other chatter about what they could be doing in this meeting. His mind could come up with a million questions - but he knew most of them shouldn't be answered..

"I don't really have any questions for you." He mumbled, looking down at the pastry he found delicious. He glanced back up to the adult, nibbling on the food as they sat. There was a lot he could learn and a lot he could also probably learn a lot more even as he worked, but he was nervous about if he could even be hired in the first place.

Sitting up straight, the son of envy asked, "Do you have any questions for me?"

below the sun

born of jealousy

Her being dangerous was the lowest concern as of right then. He could handle dangerous people - he had gotten away from them enough.. Though he had a few scars now to prove his story. But she did not seem dangerous, and he was pretty sure people would be able to find them. The police officers here seemed more competent than others he had encountered, and they had magic to help them track down actual criminals.

The demon evaluated the question for a moment, placing a piece of the broken pastry in his mouth. He mulled over how to respond, chewing slowly. If he was rude, he would not get the job. But if he was caught in any lie, he would not get the job. The teenager put the pastry down and cleaned his fingers with a napkin before putting his hands back in his lap - or at his sides.

"It wasn't. I'm not a particularly good baker, and I didn't think I would be useful enough here to make a difference." He started, pressing down on his fingers to crack them as if that would help relieve his anxieties. "I did apply here on whim, and I was honestly surprised you wanted me given that I gave you practically nothing. But.. it's a chance for me to learn, I guess. I have to start somewhere... And when I got your reply about here, I thought if nothing else this would be a good place to start."

It was a home-y little bakery with far less pressures than if he applied to a big name one. She gave a vibe that told him that if he fucked up it wouldn't be the end of the world. She seemed far more patient and forgiving. And for someone who was starting off, it meant a lot.

below the sun