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Chapter ~8~ [Video]
[Delmar has pink frosting smeared on his cheek that he hasn't realized is there yet, but aside from that, or perhaps because of it, he looks his usual chipper self, grinning widely and hands fluttering in a wave at the screen]
Hello, everyone! I just wanted to make sure that all of you new folks knew about The Bear Hug Bakery.
Hello, everyone! I just wanted to make sure that all of you new folks knew about The Bear Hug Bakery.
[He lifts up the phone and turns about so that he can get a quick, albeit shaky, scan of the cheerful yellow bakery]
Everyone is welcome and if you have any favorite pastries you just go ahead and let me know and I will try and make it for you. Also we could always use more helpers if you'd like to lend us a hand.
Have a good day!

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[Delmar will stay in video because he's never learned to text :P]
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what would you want for a pie?
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I see you do sweet baking. Do you do savoury as well? And I can help out.
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[Sorry, Abigail, that hint goes right over his head]
And we'd be very glad to have your help, Miss Abigail.
video;
Jet, not quite as wary of the video function as the rest of his crew, centres the camera on himself. He is a broadly-built man in his mid-twenties, with a mop of thick, curly dark hair and kind hazel-brown eyes. One of those eyes has a scar across it, as if someone pressed a hot poker to the skin just above and below, and the pupil and iris are slightly misted.
His voice is quite gentle, belying the overall severity of his appearance, and the question he asks is as innocent as they come.]
You make chocolate cake?
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Of course I make chocolate cake. Is that your favorite?
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[He shrugs gently. It's not a dismissal, but it's not exactly why he's asking. There are three barely-grown young men and a teenage girl in the forefront of his mind, attached to his next question.]
Could you show me how?
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[Delmar waves a hand through the air emphatically]
I'd be happy to. You just let me know when is best for ya and I'll get everything ready.
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You want something for it?
['Jet. Jet... Jet!' shouts the voice. Jet closes his eyes briefly and shakes his head.]
Ignore that.
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[The Bear Hug bakery was intended as a place for giving hope, Delmar has no intention of taking anything from anyone.]
...is...that person calling for you? It...sounds urgent....
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[He covers the receiver carefully, shouting back 'What?!' before removing his hand from the phone and cocking his head to one side to listen. A mumbled 'nothing!' comes back and he shrugs, giving Delmar a smile.]
Nothing urgent.
Video
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[She wipes at her cheek again.]
Who else works there?
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[Also it gives him more things to do here.]
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Children? Could say that. Got some people that need looking out for. [All adults, most of them close to his own age, but still needing some taking care of.
The name attached to his message is 'Jet Star'.]
Call me Jet.
aww, old people!
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I guess I tend to get over eager when I'm baking
[That and he's naturally overly enthusiastic as a human being so flour and frosting are bound to get all over when he's making a large batch]
Let's see. There's Miss Laura and Harlan helps decorate the cakes sometimes...and there are people who lend a hand with this or that now and again when they can.
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[He nods with a smile]
My name is Delmar
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Would you like to come over? I'd be glad to give you the grand tour.
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[If you please. He left all need for any polite titles behind him when he ran from 'civilised' society years ago.]
Got some time free now, if you do.
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You have a little something on your face, by the way.
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We're just next to all those little motorcycles...the...ah! The mopeds! We are right next to those.
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[Because it's never nothing.
It's about half an hour when he ducks into the shop, imposing in person but with a kind of relaxed, friendly air about him. He gives a small wave to the man behind the counter.]
Hey.
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[He blinks quickly before turning to try and find something with which to see his reflection. A nearby pan suffices and embarrassed Delmar quickly washes off the frosting]
Oh dear...that was on my face for the whole recording, wasn't it?
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When Jet appears in person, Delmar's eyes widen a little, betraying the fact that this young man, by appearance, is quite intimidating.]
Hello [He calls out, trying not to let his shyness around strangers get the better of him but unable to hide his timidness entirely. It's one thing to speak to someone over the phone, but in person Delmar has zero self-confidence.]
Are you ready?
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He catches the look Delmar gives him, and cocks his head slightly without drawing it into question. Instead, he latches on to the question asked of him and nods, tight curls of hair bouncing slightly.]
Ready. Sure you're doing this for nothing? Not used to free trade.
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I'm very sure. I wanted this bakery to be something that cheered people up... you know, a place where people can feel nice.... I don't want anything from them. If I can give them something that makes them happy then that is trade enough for me.
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Nice of you.
[Jet doesn't lurk, though he's aware of how he can do it accidentally.]
Wanting to do something for my crew. Something that isn't... [A small, vague hand gesture.] ... Something simple.
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[Because of his luck. Not that Delmar is going to understand without context though.]
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video;
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[She gives him a smile.]
I think I know them. Would they be okay with me helping out?
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['Crew' is not lingo for friends in Delmar's very limited social sphere. In fact the only time he's come across it is in reference to teams of laborers or--]
...or are you in the navy?
[He certainly doesn't look like he's in the navy. Not with such long hair. But perhaps that grew in the time he's been in Hadriel?]
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[He playfully taps a fingertip to his cheek just below an eye for emphasis]
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People I run with, back home. My friends.
[He'd laugh harder at the the thought he could be part of some organised armed force. Sure, he'd fought in a war, but he doesn't think he could really call it the same thing.]
All been through five shades of hell. Think they'd like this.
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[Delmar is beaming proudly as he knocks on the counter lightly with his knuckles to prove definitively that it is a tangible reality. The bakery is the child of his personal dreams and aspirations]
And I don't accept any currency. All of it is free.
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Oh....of course. That makes much more sense.
[An apologetic smile]
I'm afraid I don't know a lot of the...um... the phrases younger people use here.
[Then he turns to where they store the ingredients]
Well then we must find something nice to make for them.
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[Doesn't matter how young they are. The language of the Zones is a thing all of its own and while sometimes context clues help, a lot of the time they're no use at all.]
Bet you got some ideas? Gotta be something chocolate. All got a sweet tooth.
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ill send someone to pick it up if its not too much trouble