He pushed open the door and walked into the coffee shop, towering over most of the other customers as he stood in line. After a few moments, he stepped up to the counter, having to look down to see the barista behind the register.
"Hi! What can I get for you?" Her sweetly smiling face seemed almost forced. This was one of the few shops in the neighbourhood that allowed Bifera to be served, but that didn't mean some people weren't still uncomfortable.
"I will have coffee that you have in the box for conferences and the things," he said.
"Okay;" the barista typed typed the order into the computer, "it'll be a few minutes. May I have a name for the order?"
"Spyder."
"Mhm."
He paid for the order and waited at a much too small table.
Spyder opened the door to his apartment, two of his arms cradling a large cardboard box full of hot liquid. Aracia was over at a friend's house, so there was no one inside, allowing him to peruse the cabinets in peace as the steaming box sat on the kitchen counter. He found what he was looking for, setting the glass bottles onto the counter next to the box of hot coffee, each one varying degrees of full or empty.
He popped open the top of the box and poured all the bottles he could manage to fit inside. When the box was decidedly full, he poured himself a cup, grimacing at the taste as he sipped. He tipped another bottle into his cup, watching the clear liquid dilute perfectly okay coffee.
Aracia opened the door to the apartment, coming home to find her brother passed out on the couch, six lanky limbs sprawled everywhere. She rolled her eyes, setting her things on the counter. Then she remembered the airhorn in her room. An imoish grin creeped upon her features.