Repose

What delights this season?

[Marta F]

Do you want to decorate the store for Christmas? I'm fine if you do, but I only have one request.

[Public]

'Tis the season! Please remember that several lovely plants of the season: mistletoe, holly and poinsettias, that while gorgeous and sometimes steeped in history, are not good for our four footed friends and family members. Be kind to animals, <3.

I'd like to lodge a complaint. If someone shoves a religious pamphlet down the front of your shirt and declares that you "Need Jesus," I'm relatively confident that is less than kosher with the law, and also a very bad impression to give a newcomer. I should at least be permitted to speak to the local tourism board.

[Public]
What a disappointing night.

[Trio Lock]
Any bloodletting?

[Trio lock]
Should I demand an altar?

Thank you LAKE GOD please accept my offering of a frog I found in my backyard.

[Public]

Isn't the game truth or dare? Be bold, Repose. You might even win something that isn't cheap whiskey.

[Locked to Sigyn]

I hear you're in town.

[Nel]
tomorrow or saturdya

[Destiny]
[She hasn't seen the message from Destiny, lost in the scrolling and not enough time to go back through.]
are you back? wyatts babysitter took him when things got shitty. i tried. i'm sorry.

[Aedan]
sorry.

[Seven]
[...]
out of town but coming back soon.

Who: Hel and Lucifer
What: Coffee
Where: Two death gods walk into a diner...
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Companionable coffee doesn't require warnings

The invitation was silently issued.

Nel had sensed him, you see. She was a pagan deity, this much was true, but christian deities were just another flavor of ice cream, and Nel knew the other death gods well. She'd not met this one, but she sensed his arrival, and she knew he would sense her presence. This was, after all, a shared world. Humanity, where everyone believed their particular faith trumped, and the gods knew better. They all shared these people between them, and it was a constant battle for preference, worship, survival. Nel had no interest in ruling her afterlife, and, so it would seem, neither did this christian death god that had arrived. She was, however, heady on the heels of worship and bonfire, and she was, perhaps, feeling somewhat nostalgic for her days in the Caribbean. There, she'd been a goddess among goddesses, and the recent happenings in town had just kindled that desire for veneration, adulation, and the limitless and gorge-greed glut of idolatry.

But none of this led her to the diner on the bad side of town at midnight, the place a crush of children out too late and men and women up to no good. No, this was merely meant to be a greeting. Surely there was enough soul to be had in this town for two of them, and Nel rather trusted the untrustworthy nature of her own kind over the beatification of thunder gods and fecund goddess.

She was seated at the counter, and her coat was draped along the back of the tall chair she occupied. She ordered a coffee, black, and she thanked the waitress with a smile that drew up sharp cheekbones. The smile was small, but it made the waitress blush, and Nel took a sip from her coffee and accepted the slice of apple pie given to her in wholesome offering.

i feel mor beter now but thers lots of pepul arownd piking thins

[Claire J.]

Hi. Okay?

[Public]

I apologize for what can only be described as a Lord of the Flies situation in the historical fiction the other day. To make it up to you, I've placed these around town to help us through these trying times.

[There's a girl seen wandering the town late, late on Sunday evening. Pale, blonde, petite, with piercing blue eyes, the girl seems to be in her late teens. She wanders barefoot throughout the evening, passing along neighborhood sidewalks and along storefronts. No one dies in her wake, but she doesn't pass without leaving a mark. She walks in a swirl of bottomless hunger, and she carries that gluttonous voracity in every pore. It reaches out, into windows and doors, and it brushes against the skin of those maddened and wandering the streets. The hunger infects them, swirls within them, and it leaves them craving everything they can never have. Those affected greedily reach for each other—in love, in lust, in unabashed worship. Out come the faithful, and the streets the girl travels become a parade path for ancient rituals to honor false gods. Porches and yards and streets are lit with bonfire lights. Prayer comes to Repose, but it is no prayer to a fatherly messiah with a beard. As for the girl, she feeds off this, and her skin is rosy and warm as she continues her aimless meandering through Repose's battlefields. It's not death, but it'll do.]

[Nel L]

I'm sure you're enduring, but the lake and the forest do prompt the question, darling, how is the family doing?

[Locked to Loki]
Does this sort of thing often happen?

[Laufey trio lock]
I won't ask if you're both well. Rather, I'll ask what's needed?

For sale. Please direct any and all inquiries to Repose Antiques.

( Medicine, revolution, and mugshots. )

Who: Fen, Kratos, Nel
What: A conveniently timed repair
Where: (After)Life
When: "Soon"
Warnings/Rating: Doubtful

The sink's malfunction had required nothing more than a thought—at present, any water from the faucet would erupt upward, soaking wall and ceiling. Inside the pipe, a toy which a child had left behind was jammed at the perfect angle to cause the fountain effect that Nel found ridiculously entertaining.

At present, she was dressed in yellow and black, and she was reclining on one of the studio's many sofas. It was early in the day, and she'd messaged Fen indicating that he should arrive sooner rather than later. Not that she'd considered an explanation for why her exquisitely burly brother could not resolve the matter of the sink himself. Truthfully, she wouldn't allow Fen to fix her sink, even had there not been machination afoot, so it would require no true talent of acting on her part. Nel was as capable of fixing a sink as she was of repairing the motorcycle that was parked at the entrance to the studio.

She'd no sessions scheduled until the evening, and she was, at present, relaxing. Music played, and she was drinking beer from the bottle. She'd fed the evening before, and she was currently beginning to feel hunger, but not dreadfully so. She liked drawing out the sensation of want, and learning more about Rae's mysterious and Greek handyman seemed rather a wonderful way to pass the time.

The front door was, as it always was during business hours, unlocked—after all, Nel had nothing to fear from anyone at all.

[Call to Kratos S]

[Mid-morning, to the number listen on his handyman fliers. Ring.]

[Delivered to Marta F]
[Delivered to Engine No. 9 on Friday: A leather portfolio. It comes with no note or explanation, but there are a series of photographs tucked within. The photographs are stark, black and white with bright brights and dark shadows. The girl in the photos is often captured in those shadows, and the set of photographs is large and glossy and the sort modeling agencies and film producers pay exorbitant amounts of money for. The artists' mark, which resembles a tree with her initials underneath, appears on the back of each photograph. The portfolio itself is delivered only into Marta's hands, with a signature required.]