Who: Damien and Cathy When: Evening, around 5pm Where: Cabin 17 What: Making food, roommate socializing Rating: TBD Status: Incomplete Note: Sort of a re-post of an earlier log, with a few small edits
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Damien had thought he was the only one living in Cabin #17 for a while. Since Jack had left, it had not felt the same. The prankster had been an interesting friend.. although they probably had not parted on much good terms, it was good most of the time as he recalled. So the Antichrist did what anyone else would do when separated from a memorable friend. He focused on work. Oh, he would give great massages. Great ones. But he refrained from using his ability to influence folks as much. Just enough for them to have found it satisfactory and continue returning. Simply business after all. And where he often found several partners to bring home, it became two or simply just one. But several weeks ago, he discovered that he was not the only resident in the cabin. It had been one. And now, after doing some research, had learned that one had very recently become two, although he had yet to see either of them. Perhaps he would meet them at some point soon. As it was now, he had been missing them, perhaps due to himself coming around when they were either out working and socializing, or asleep in their rooms. But maybe.. yes, maybe what he needed was another fun project. Another plan, another scheme to hatch up. Yet another new angle to work at in this place, possibly to improve his image and reputation. Something to keep himself busy with, at least. There was an old saying that idle hands were the Devil's workshop or something to that effect. He of all people should know that after all.
Right now, he could do with some food. So after a shower, he had done up his hair in that nearly perfect way and dressed for success (some attire of which he had acquired when in New York). Black slacks, dark blue loafer shoes, a silk black Armani shirt, and midnight blue overcoat hung over a chair nearby. It had then taken him a half hour to cook something. Just a couple ham sandwiches with some cold milk. He sighed, moving to sit alone at the table. Damien was uncertain if either of the other residents were in the cabin at present. It was possible. He had not seen Victoire, so it was likely that she was either in her room, busy at work, or most likely, spending time with relatives or a friend. Maybe the other one was around. In any case, there was a huge dish in the center of the table, with a newly cooked pot roast. There were also some plates with various vegetables, along with two pitchers, water and orange juice. Maybe the scent would carry and he would not be alone tonight. After all, he was behaving himself publicly of late, playing the part of the hospitable roommate. And so maybe he would make a few more friends. A good number of the guests seemed to like him so far, anyway.