Repose

[Mean-Eyed Cat Employees.]

Problem. Gone now.

[While this begins to seep into town.]

Gosdfuck theres waspsin me ifeel thembuzzinmoving in me icant throwthemup cuz in myhead stujckin my headcan t throwrmup turninginsiwde out cant thrownm up fuckiING BUZZING FUCKS THESE WASPSS!!1 GET OUT!!!

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.]

( Someone else might have called this behavior  )

[Locked to "David"]

[Not bothering to anon.] Will you respond here? I'm curious to know if the postcards were an aberration for you.

Who: Rae and Kratos
What: Handy stuff!
Where: Gem
When: After this.
Warnings/Rating: Safe.

( Rae’s eyes cooled, her hold on her coffee became somewhat more imperial. )

[Public]

So what's the verdict on the postcard thing?



[Mars M + Hannah S: 'Mayers' lock]

Are you guys being mysterious and epistolary?

[Steve M, Claire J, Kratos S]

We should do a drink or something, in honor of the letter-writing craze. Claire, you're included on the basis that you served way more time listening to Cash than me.

[Patrick G]

Hey man. As a native, can I ask if this is totally normal?

[As promised, Claire drops off a rather large amount of assorted homemade cookies to the Mean-Eyed Cat. The lion's share has been put into a tin for Steve. There are two smaller tins for Jaime and Kratos, and another that was made up for customers to share. Upon inspection, there are some cookies that got hit with cookie cutters into the shapes of a pipe, a deerstalker, and a magnifying glass. Unfortunately, those do not translate well into cookies without all the fancy frosting, and Claire can't do fancy frosting. So, you know, they're just kinda weird blobs.

There is not a raisin or dried cranberry in the whole lot.]

[Locked to the Mean-Eyed Cat, which pretty much is just Jamie M & Kratos S at this point]
Sorry about the bar being closed on the 4th. Everything's cleared up.

[Locked to Claire J]
Hey, Claire, how're you doing? How're you liking Vade?

[Locked to Dahlia H]
Hi, Dahlia. It's been a while.

[Locked to Oliver K]
Hi, Oliver. How're you?

[It comes out first as an incredulous claim, then a large news source picks it up, then another. There are partisan takes on the issue, but ultimately it comes down to this: Captain Liberty was real. A man claiming to be him, a so-called Steve McRory, who says today is his 100th birthday, though he looks no older than his early thirties, has opened himself to interviews. Either he's delusional, and committed enough to make several props (including authentic-seeming photographs), or he's telling the truth. As the day wears on, a few veterans come out to verify that they knew this man, and several of them have their own stories and accompanying photographs, all seeming to show a man identical to the one claiming to be this 'Captain,' a man most in this day and age thought relegated solely to the pages of comic books.

In Repose, the bar is closed before it even manages to open on the 4th, with several black cars having swarmed it. Steve, after giving a handful of interviews over the internet, is nowhere to be found.]

[Public: anon]

There are wolves in the woods, at least someone has anonymously confessed to being a demon of some kind. What, if we were making a list of weird shit you find in Repose, would make the list?

[Call: Kratos S]

[It's a flyer and she's looking at an empty space and boxes and whoever sticks their number on a flyer will do. It's late afternoon: five, maybe six and it's mid-week and the truck is on its way out of town. The phone rings, and the space echoes empty.]

Who: Loki (Nish) and Aedan
What: Playful adversaries meet for a drink…
Where: The Cat
Rating: tbd

( It wasn't every day Loki met someone who could match his wit... )

[as Loki]

I'm bored. Amuse me, peasants.

[Edited.] The Mean-Eyed Cat is looking for a two part-time bartenders/waiters. Must be able to work some weekends and some nights.