Repose

[Public]

no poetry

no sales pitches

no bordellos

There are times when I see the kind of old I want to be. Like Dorothy who does a wicked plié at seventy with flexibility I only dream of still having at forty. What's on your 'fabulous after fifty' list, the stuff you want to be when you're too old to give a crap?

Who: Hannah and Rory
What: Dreaming
Where: The Dream Clinic in the Capital
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Who knows what lives in these dreams

Hannah was a little bit nervous. She hadn't ever been in a dream, and she'd never had one of her own, and this was going to be her first time. She was excited, but she was nervous too, and she arrived at the Dream Clinic late, after they'd closed and when no one was inside and looking to dream dreams.

She had a key, and she fingered it where it rested in her pocket. She'd earned the key, and she had it for tonight and tonight only. She knew how to run the machines, and she knew what not to do, and the gift-giver had already set up a few dreams, predetermined ones that anyone could enter. It was the cheapest way to do it, but Hannah didn't care. A dream was a dream was a dream, and she wanted to become lost in one. It was something really, really human to her. It was something denied her, and it was something she wanted to experience. She knew what it was to sleep. She needed sleep, and that was something in her programming, but there was nothing when she slept. Dreams seemed like books with spines cracked open and the words projected onto the mind, and she maybe had a really pretty view of what happened when people's eyes closed and their subconsciousness ran free.

She didn't have a subconscious, or at least she didn't think she did, and she was going to borrow one tonight. She didn't want to do it alone, and Rory was coming, and she waited out back, at the door that the employees used. She had a key, and she had a code, and the bag she had slung over her shoulder contained instructions for everything else, just in case she forgot. She was dressed in grey, hair loose and black pumps on her feet, but she thought maybe that wouldn't matter even a little bit, and she leaned back against the stone wall with stars in her eyes.

[As Rae B]

I'm curious to know where the poetry thing started. And what the weirdest use of the forum has been so far. Don't give me prosaic and dull, please.

[Text: Rory B]
[Mid-morning. Early enough that she figures he is still asleep.]

We are friends, right? It is your turn to tell me a joke.

[Hannah S]
[After getting the note.]

Whose this now?

Who: Anyone who wants to attend!
What: An outdoor gala
Where: In the woods, near the Ranger Station.
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Varied! Anyone can start threads within this post. Feel free to hit any starters that are hanging out there. Dibs items you intend to hit. Also, arranging threads with other characters is all good! Just put both character names in the subject line to ensure no one dibs the starter. Participation in multiple threads in here is fine; just assume character threads are staggered throughout the evening.

( The lights were strung from tree to tree. )

[Locked to James B.]
Hey, sooooo... Hey.

[Public. Posted Anonymously.]
Heeeey its me, that person who keeps posting about demon shit again...

I think I have a problem.

[Fuzz it up.]

[Leena B]
You were going to come over for sushi, yes? Are you still going back?

[Rory B]
What is the difference between a hippo and a zippo?

[Steve M]
Hey. How are you doing?

[Atticus M]
[...] I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.

[Call: Daniel W]
[After some time. Ring ring.]

Hours. Days.

I blinked and it's been a week.

[The message comes through with no available sender. Just two words. Nothing more.]

Tick.

Tock.

[Locked to Ren S]
Did you go? Was it wonderful?

[Locked to Rory B]
I don't know if I think you're the type to read books. Are you?

[Locked to David P]
[She knows it's a longshot, but:] David?

[Posted anonymously.]

In the dour ages
Of drafty cells and draftier castles,
Of dragons breathing without the frame of fables,
Saint and king unfisted obstruction's knuckles
By no miracle or majestic means,

But by such abuses
As smack of spite and the overscrupulous
Twisting of thumbscrews: one soul tied in sinews,
One white horse drowned, and all the unconquered pinnacles
Of God's city and Babylon's

Must wait, while here Suso's
Hand hones his tack and needles,
Scouraging to sores his own red sluices
For the relish of heaven, relentless, dousing with prickles
Of horsehair and lice his horny loins;
While there irate Cyrus
Squanders a summer and the brawn of his heroes
To rebuke the horse-swallowing River Gyndes:
He split it into three hundred and sixty trickles
A girl could wade without wetting her shins.

Still, latter-day sages,
Smiling at this behavior, subjugating their enemies
Neatly, nicely, by disbelief or bridges,
Never grip, as the grandsires did, that devil who chuckles
From grain of the marrow and the river-bed grains.

Who: Reece & Rory
What: Clandestine magic-eye meeting
Where: The strip club, Repose's Disneyland!
When: Evening, current
Warnings: Rory profanity. Minor sexual references due to location. Doubt it'll need locking unless things get violent.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The courier couldn't have caught Rory at a worse time, as he was actually about to meet with some guy he didn't know to discuss the surgically-induced brain damage Tethys had inflicted upon him. The sleek car that rolled up on him as he was jaywalking his happy ass out of May's old house in the woods and onto the main road wasn't too alarming as the hand off was a quick one. Even the fancy stationary didn't give him pause because Rory figured that it was some invite, assignment, or declaration from the home office. Even Hell had their version of secretaries… although fancy paperwork wasn't really their style. Now, Janus had warned him about all things Down Below being eerily quiet, but Rory had long ago come to the conclusion that Janus was full of as much bullshit as every other demon he'd ever had the displeasure of encountering. Even so, nobody really wanted to get a letter from the home office… but when Rory actually opened the envelope and unveiled the Tethys letterhead on the page inside, this reality was so much worse.

Yeah, no. Fuck this. Rory immediately turned around and re-entered the cozy little woodland cottage to weaponize himself with a shoulder holster, his favorite handgun, and some extra clips of bullets. This meant putting on one of his black suit jackets over the Celtics jersey, which was certainly a look, but even in a fucked up town like Repose people weren't used to seeing a grown man walking down the street all open carry.

He headed for the strip club after that on foot, shooting a quick series of messages to Sparkles aka Holly. She promised to secure him a private room and also to sneak him in through the kitchen's back door. The more that Rory thought about the folded up Tethys letter in his back pocket, the more paranoid he became. He was not walking through any front entrances tonight. Fuck that. In fact, he probably should have said Fuck That to this whole meeting, but Rory trusted Hannah… and if she said this Reece guy could be trusted as well, he was going to take her word for it. Holly, too, he knew could be trusted. And not just because he gave her two hundred bucks upon being smuggled in through the club's back door. He told her not to ask any questions and chatty little Holly surprisingly complied, this too probably had to do with the money. Still, it didn't take a whole lot of imagination to figure out why somebody armed like Rory would want to sneak in through the back, away from the front door bouncers who tended to frisk the incoming down on crowded weekend evenings like this one. Rory was feeling paranoid after reading the letter, he wanted the sentimental comfort of a gun. It was his version of a teddy bear.

He was a little early for the meeting, but that was alright. And even though he had no idea what this Reece guy was going to look like, Rory angled his chair toward the front door to catch a glimpse of anybody new that was coming in. With his jacket unbuttoned, the bright green Celtics jersey was visible from beneath even as the holster and its wonderfully deadly accessories remained tucked away hidden. Immediately, Rory ordered a beer and a shot from a passing waitress in a fishnet bodysuit. The girl on stage didn't have his attention, the front door did, but Rory threw a few ones onto the stage out of distracted respect anyway.

[The letter comes hand-delivered by private courier. It's very official looking, this letter, the paper a heavy watermarked linen, cream colored. Official letterhead, mind. The contents, however, are a little on the sparse side, but the message gets across nonetheless.]

It would be in your best interests to be very prepared in the future.

I expect we will be seeing one another soon.

Best Regards,

DB

The private courier gives no indication as to the sender of the letter or how it was given to them. Once the delivery is completed, they leave, vehicle untraceable.]

[Rory B/Hannah S]
You still around, little bird?

[Rory B/"Sparkles"]
Went by the club and didn't see you there. Day off or kiss off for good, kid? Just tell me you didn't get eaten by a dog.

[Rory B/Claire J]
I appreciate the help. Let me make it up to you sometime.

[Rory B/Janus A]
Surely you're still around. Your knack for self-preservation surpasses the shelf life of a fucking nuclear twinkie. Tell me what I missed.

[Posted public, but anonymously]
Say, did anyone happen to go missing in the last two months? [...] Asking for a friend.

[Rory B]
I'd like to ask you a favor, if you can.

[Daniel W]
Were the holidays decidedly secular enough for you this time?

[Leena B]
How did the cookies turn out?

[Misha B]
[A picture of the cake, sitting on her dining room table with a slice cut out of it.] If you or Damian want some, it's here.

[Ren S]
Did you warn me about Romeo and Juliet? I feel like you did, but if you did not, I am going to yell at you.

[Locked to Rory B]
You must be careful. I hear that Tethys seeks new subjects.

[Locked to Ren S]
Was it a Jane holiday season, or was it a Lydia holiday season, Ren?

[Locked to Eddie N]
How did Eddie's Christmas chapter end?

[Locked to Con T]
Thank you for replacing my heel, Con.

[There are a variety of packages, including one extra. The card reads I figured you could use a little luck and maybe the blessing can help stack the balance sheet a little. Santa]

[Steve M. & Atticus M.]

Say something adult and reasonable.

[Rory B.]

Anything more from the creepy mortal scientist people?

[F. Eames]

How's the commute now?

[Text to Claire J.]

Need advice.

Don't make me guess this.