[center][h3]Val O'Connell[/h3][i]Phil's Coffeehouse[/i][hr][@Fading Memory][/center][hr]"[i]Well, I don't know why I came here tonight. / I got the feeling that something ain't right...[/i]" Valeriano squatted by Phil's Coffeehouse's back door, his black apron barely brushing the tops of his sneakers. The first drops had already penetrated the asphalt, and the low rumble of thunder filled the town. "[i]I'm so scared [/i]hmm, hmm, hmm[i] fall off my chair...[/i]"

Val wore a blasé and unbothered expression, the half-finished cigarette dangling off his lips, while he gazed at heavy, baleful clouds which now dominated the sky. "[i]...and I'm wondering [/i]hmm, hmm, hmm[i] down the stairs...[/i]"

"[i]...Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right...[/i]" What started just minutes ago as a light sprinkle gradually turned torrential. From there, Val watched as a curtain of rain began to fall over Sanctuary Hills, and his humming came to an end.

"Shit," he sighed, annoyed and a little frustrated as the water came up to him. "Guess break's over." Val took one long drag off his cigarette and snuffed it out on the ground, flicking the butt into the you're-sweeping-it-up-later oblivion. The barista hopped to his feet and into the coffeehouse before he could get more soaked. Smoothing the front of his apron, Val marched himself dutifully to the storefront, where already a few patrons and passersby were hurriedly pouring in, hoping to take cover from, well, the downpour.

Valeriano beckoned the customer who'd been holding the door open. "'mon in. I'll take it from here," he said, reaching into his pocket and squeezing some hunk of calcite therein. The coffee shop magician took over, and he murmured a few words in an unintelligible tongue. Val stepped out and leaned back against the door, ushering people off the streets and into Phil's.

With an arcing flourish, Val quickly withdrew his hand from his pocket and held it above his head. Reacting accordingly, a field of raindrops around Val radiated outward from him before continuing their descent. The falling rain then appeared to yield a sphere of dry air around Val, which extended over a large patch of the outside seating and became more of an invisible box. This umbrella-like barrier provided enough shelter for the last folks to enter the shop. Except for one.

"[i]Mi—chael[/i]—" Val said exasperatedly, his voice strained. "Just leave it. I can getcha a fresh one."

"But— it'll get wet..." the customer fretted.

"[i]I know[/i]. I'll take care of it later, just get in here," Val urged through gritted teeth.

Michael dejectedly squeezed past Valeriano into the restaurant, tossing a forlorn glance at the croissant, now soggy, and the coffee cup-turned-mini rain barrel.

Val rolled his eyes as that last man entered the shop. He released his concentration, and with that, he drew in a sharp breath of air. Almost immediately, the suspended rain splattered on the ground, and the rest continued to fall normally. Sighing with relief, he slammed the door shut, ringing the shopkeeper bell loud, and Val made his way back to the counter, where a line was forming.

"Hi, welcome to Phil's Coffeehouse. Just a second." Val squeezed behind the counter, wiping his hands off on his apron and smudging some white dust on it. He switched the radio to 101.1 FM and turned the volume up on the coffeehouse speakers just a tad to overcome the rain. Val spun around to face the first in line, and he pressed his hands down on the countertop, back in customer service mode. "Alright, sorry 'bout that. Can I take your order?"

[color=b5b5b5]"[i]...Clowns to the left of me, / jokers to the right, / here I am— / [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ln7Vn_WKkWU]stuck in the middle with you!...[/url][/i]"[/color]
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