The Yellow Umberalla

Jake nodded. "Exactly. That's what I say to my students when they try to give up. They have so much potential, but yet they won't soar toward it."

(I gtg)

(Okey dokey. Bye!)

"Oh, you teach? Awesome," Paisley said. "My mom's a art teacher. I'm considering it once I'm finished with college." She smiled. "I'm sure nothing's sweeter than educating a child's mind in the arts."

Jake nodded. "Yes, I'm a part time music teacher. There's many difficulties with raising students in music, but I will not quit. I cannot. Music is my passion. You should be an art teacher; it's very cool." He smiled at her, and again his deep blue eyes sparkled. Jake was quite intrigued by her.

Robyn: I stepped into the cozy cafe, happy to be here rather than moping around at home. After taking my usual seat by the window, I pulled out my faded copy of romeo and Juliette, and set it in front of me. Before beginning once again into its page turning chapters, I looked around the room, observing everyone else. Two people were chatting, and guy was playing with clay. That intrigued me, what was so interesting about clay?

Paisley nodded. "I'm definitely considering it," she said with a smile. Her opinion towards kids varied, but she was usually pretty even tempered. Plus, she could always relate to them.

~

Cecil had sculpted a little humanoid dog was was working on a cat to go along with it. They were loosely based on some characters from the studio. He thought it would be fun to have them around, and perhaps to take a few pictures with.

Jake ate a fry and took a sip of his drink. "So...what are you doing around the Yellow Umbrella?" He wondered himself why he tried to come here every day. Was it the people, food...or just the creativeness of the place? The nice features of the table and of the walls...did it somehow have an effect on his work?

((what day is it...?))

(Same day.)

Paisley shook her head. "I dunno. I just like the atmosphere. It's inspiring." It was true. Every day she came her to think and just take in everything. It was amazing how influential a place could be, and this place was exceptionally so.

Jake grinned. "That's exactly how I feel about this place." He couldn't believe that they had this much in common; they were even both in the arts. He rested one hand on the table, only a small distance from Paisley's. Jake hadn't really realized where his hand was now: close to hers.

The Cheerful Format of Cheeriness:
Name: James Blake
Age: 20
Occupation: unemployed at the moment, gets fired easily due to his quirk
Appearance: Shaggy black hair that's almost collar length, wavy, has red, purple, blue, teal and white streaks in his hair, blue eyes, pale, 5'11", muscular, lean, normally wears paint splattered jeans or overalls with a band tee or paint splattered tee
Personality: quiet, opinionated, can be sweet, can be funny if he wants, can be outgoing if he wants, weird
Vague Description of Quirk: He refuses to talk so he speaks in sing language or writes in the notebook that he carries around with him all the time.
Lifetime Goal: To meet someone who can make him want to talk again.

(How can I jump in?)

Robyn: The boy continued to sculpt, and I briefly glanced down to my book. It wasn't quite as interesting today as it was other days, so I stood and walked over to the counter, ordering a tea and heading back over to my seat. As I did, an unsuspecting person pushed back their chair and knocked into me, causing my warmed drink to splash onto the shoes of an intriguing guy (James?). "Oh god, I'm so sorry!" I apologized, blushing terribly.

James had been walking with his notepad and pencil, planning on getting a table inside Th Yellow Umberella. When a girl (Robyn) spilled her drink on his shoes he looked down and blinked. He wasn't exactly fond of wet shoes and socks and he planned on writing a long note, but couldn't when he looked at her. he let out a sigh and took out his notebook and pen and started to write. 'It's okay I suppose. You didn't mean to do it. I'm James and you are?' He showed her what he wrote and raised an eyebrow.

Robyn: I curiously took the notepad, holding its pages gently. He was odd, but in a way that made me wonder more about him. I wasn't positive if I was supposed to write back, or speak. Considering my hand writing was unimpressive to say the least, I decided on speaking. "I'm Robyn. And no, had I meant to do it, I probably would have chosen something less...scalding" I said softly, gently placing the notepad back into his palm.

(Errrmmmmm...what happened...? Sorry, school = death at the moment.)

James watched Robyn as he waited for her reply. After he heard the part about something less scalding and smiled slightly. Once he had his notebook in his hands again, he started to write again. 'Do you come here often? You seem slightly familiar.' He showed it to her and watched her curiously, waiting for an answer.

Robyn: I could feel myself blush, because I knew he would probably recall me as the hopeless romantic that sat by herself. "Ya, I come here to read a lot" I explained, trying to make it as un-specific as possible. "You come here often?" I asked back. He wasn't all that familiar to me, but then again I always seemed to be wrapped up in my book. Not today though, and I smiled at that thought. Hoping he wouldn't mind, I sat down in the chair across from him and rested my hand on my chin, waiting for him to finish writing his response.

(Do I just have my charrie walk into the store?)