Grasping the wooden plank gently, you flipped the sign to "OPEN", watching the chaos of Hell outside of the window. You owned a small bakery-café that was free of chaos, despite being essentially at the center of it. The area around was full of violent people, constantly hurting one another and causing destruction. Yet, your small business remains peaceful as ever. Hell, you can hardly hear the gunshots outside over the soft music usually playing, and the smell of blood and fire is drowned out by the smell of fresh coffee and croissants. You began to make a coffee for yourself, as customers began to arrive, and you took their orders. After you had finished serving a few coffees and pastries, you sat down to enjoy your own coffee. The soft jingle of your café's bell rang through the establishment as the door swung open, and your gaze trailed toward the new figure entering. Dressed all in white with a few red or yellow accents, the new customer walked up to the counter, looking up at you. He was... somewhat short, but he wore a smirk on his face that made up for it. His appearance in and of itself was somewhat amusing. "Hello. Could you, by any chance, make pancakes?" You were a little caught off guard by the request, since normally, you didn't serve those- you didn't even have pancake mix, but theoretically you could do it.