|
|
| (2 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown) |
| Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| − | {{Infobox Log
| |
| − | |name = A New Fae in Town
| |
| − | |summary = Clover meets Maud Teasedale, a new fae in town, at Murder of Crows and the two become fast pals.
| |
| − | |icdate = April 13th, 2021.
| |
| − | |ictime = Early Evening
| |
| − | |players = [[Clover]], [[Maud]]
| |
| − | |location = [[The_Murder_of_Crows|The Murder of Crows]]
| |
| − | |spheres = Changeling
| |
| − | }}
| |
| | | | |
| − | The walls in the Murder of Crows have been artfully hand painted with deep black feathers on a dark grey background, which leaves you with the impression of a flurry of feathers, wings and flight. Dark wooden Booths and tables line the walls, each tabletop hand engraved with subtle swirls and swoops, only noticable once seated; dark grey carpets set against the black marble tiles.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Along the longest wall, there is a hand carved granite bar manned by Charlie, barely noticable carving enhances the front, and is set with black enamel, giving the impression of a subtle dark wind rippling along its surface; and at either side of the bar there is a statue. Behind the bar, amidst the glass and dark metal shelves and liquor bottles, there is a printout of the bar rules framed in dark gleaming wood and a schedule for the bar's stage. On tap there are two hard ciders, one Irish and one local, and a selection of beers, local and import. The spirits selection ranges from a plentiful amount of middle shelf whiskey, vodka and gin with a small selection of high quality spirits for the discerning client. Above the bar is hung a pair of swords, on a plaque underneath each sword their names "Peace" and "Quiet" are engraved.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The raised stage has a soobwoofer built into the floor and speakers at either side, well hidden within dark wooden boxes set into the wall, and pointed out to the dance floor such that the music can be heard and felt best on the dancefloor, but that conversations in the booths and tables don't need to be yelled. The lovingly restored classic jukebox pipes music into the PA system when there's no band playing.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | A hand engraved Pool table, felted in a deep charcoal, sits in an alcove to the left of the stage, and stairs lead up to a private area behind one-way glass, frosted with subtle swirls in keeping with the theme of the rest of the bar.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The engravings throughout the room gleam and flow with an inner motion, as if wind is actually moving through the objects occasionally. The swirls in the tables change slowly and subtly over time, and the feathers on the wall sometimes spin slowly, as if caught in a slow downdraft. The statue of the austere woman smiles darkly at you from time to time; and the subtle quiet sound of wings ruffling in flight echoes lightly when someone comes through the door. The rafters have recently become home to a rather opinionated Crow Chimera named Beanna who can often be heard practicing riddles and insults.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | On the noticeboard with the rules, there is a sign writ fresh in charcoal every time banality bleeds it away. "Safe Haven is upstairs" and a new sign below that "If you can read this sign and haven't told Conn, but intend to return, you should tell Conn that you can read this sign. If Conn's not here, tell Charlie"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover comes in from D St. and Canary St.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover has arrived.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Standing around 4'11 and cute as a button, Clover appears to be the kind of girl that could easily make friends with just about anyone. Her smile is most often bright and cheerful, with plush, kissable lips and a dimple at both cheeks when that smile goes wide enough. Her nose is small, pierced through the septum, and tends to wiggle when she's overly excited. When excited or.. pretty much at any given time, her wide brown eyes sparkle and do little to hide any emotion she may be feeling. Her hair is a choppy, layered mess above her shoulders, and has recently been dyed various pinks, oranges and purples to be like a sunset. It's currently pulled up into two messy, short pigtails that barely stick out a few inches, and with her hair being up this way, it shows her ears with the tips are pointed as if she is a fan of body modification.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Today Clover is dressed in an outfit that's bright and cozy. A long-sleeved, fuzzy white shirt is worn beneath a pair of overalls that have been tye-dyed. The straps hang low over her shoulders, bringing the bib portion of the overalls barely over the top of her chest. They button on the sides, have pockets(!) and are dyed with a rainbow, swirling pattern that begins at the left hip to spiral outwards. The overalls are cut as shorts, but her legs are kept warm by the rainbow tye-dyed stockings she wears on her slender legs, pulled up just above her knees. White flats are her shoes for today, and they don't do anything for her height. Her nails are painted a sparkly teal, she wears a black choker about her neck, and a few colorful rings are slid onto random fingers.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Silver and cream tresses mixed with threadings of holographic opal tumble down the length of this young woman's form to the small of her back. The long locks are braided in a thick, loose braid from the front section being gathered back, with dozens of flowers in all shades of the rainbow tucked neatly here and there, always blossomed and giving off the faint scent of honeysuckle and toffee. The rest of her hair is left loose to dance about her shoulders with unruly strands framing her tanned face. Clover's eyes are akin to large spheres of moonstone, shimmering brilliantly like liquid gold. Her ears are long, pointed at the tips, and pierced through the left ear is a delicate gold chain with tiny golden bells hanging between where the piercing connects at the top, middle and lobe. Her little nose is in proportion to other features upon her oval face, with chin softly squared and rosy pink lips plush. When she smiles her cheeks dimple and her lips pull back to reveal a mostly straight-toothed grin.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover stands around 4'11" when on her feet, and her build is more soft than athletic. Her arms and legs are toned, with thighs on the thicker side and hips wide in comparison to the cinching of her trim waist. Her chest is supple, and though she could certainly use her curves for attention, she dresses modestly. She wears a loose, flowing dress in various, off-white and beige tones, sewn together with layers of gauzy, sheer fabric and a bit of lace. The dress is a halter style and ties at the back of her neck with most of the back cut away. The front covers her fully and cinches snug about her waist where the dress then falls in layered skirts to her ankles. Upon her feet are brown sandals almost as tanned as her skin, and around her right ankle is a thin gold chain dotted with tiny gold bells.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | It is just passed six-thirty and the crowd at Murder of Crows has not really started to form yet. Perhaps because it's Tuesday. Perhaps because the sun hasn't set yet and everyone is just waiting for appearance's sake. A mystery for another day. As for the crowd that 'is' here, it is comprised of mainly regulars save for one unfamiliar patron who is hovering by the bar talking to Charlie.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "So then it just effing SEIZED when I was on the 40 coming in from Bakersfield. Who wants to live out in that hobo-washed, Crystal Methany of my heart city anyway?" Says the definitely-not-even-five-foot-tall, red-headed goblin-like woman. Maud pauses for the quickest of cider sips and either ignores or fails to notice Charlie's 'polite but bored of this' nod, then she continues her story. "So I get out, crawl under there and, get this. POSSOM. Eating. My timing belt."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The door opens up and Clover gives a little hop into the room, landing on both feet as she lifts her hands and tucks her thumbs beneath the straps of her overalls. As she stands there still for a moment she gives a quick glances about, scanning the area and looking over those within before she gives a light grunt and a huff, followed by a quick smile. She begins to head on over to the bar, and as she reaches it she pops her hands down on the seat and hops on up, vault style like she was jumping into the saddle. Her fluffy hair sways about as she glances over to the new face, and she smiles brightly to Maud before she takes a second to consider the food.. but.. "Possum?" She slowly looks back over to Maud again, grin going lopsided as she eyes her curiously.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Maud had glanced over when the door opens to admit the newest arrival and the red-headed Nocker double-takes. It is enough of a window for Charlie to find another customer to serve and so he does... down at the 'other' end of the bar. Away from Maud. The short woman offers a wide, toothy smile toward Clover and waits for her to settle in. "Possum. I shit you fucking not. Sorry. Language. I crap you fucking not. Also..." The smile widens, showing off sharp teeth and those little 'cute' fangs. "...whoa! You are as short as I am. Hell, fucking, yeah!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The wide smile she receives is enough to keep Clover smiling, and the young woman even starts to giggle a bit as she watches this new face. Her brows lift slowly and she examines those teeth, laughing happily as she does. It takes her a second to snap out of it, and when she does she perks up with a little bounce in her seat, looking surprised at the other. "You think? How tall are you without shoes on? No tippy toes. Just flat-footed. Huh?" She tilts her head and eyes Maud a little, looking up and down as if she'd be able to tell, and she guesses, "Five flat?" If the cursing bothered her, she sure doesn't mention it. "Four eleven? Four tw-no. That's five.." She snickers, grin going wide again, and just like that- Distracted! "Charlie! Hi. Can I geeettttt some fries with mashed potatoes on top? And drown it in gravy? Pleaseeee? Thanks."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Maud seems to willingly adopt the role of 'Queen Center of Attention' proudly. "Oh, shucks, I don't know. I was going to measure in possums. You know, if you stood the little fuckers on top of each-other. Maybe the one would hold up it's tail for the other to cling to, all the way up to my hair." The Nocker falls silent for a moment and turns to glance toward Charlie when Clover calls over her order. She waits for the bartender to confirm the order, or not, before she side-leans in toward Clover's bar-stool. "Four eleven..." She offers in a voice that begins at a stage-whisper but quickly rises to a full on shout, all while she's spilling cider and pointing down toward her boots, "...but I'm five foot one in these bitches, yeah!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover hears about the possums as a unit for measuring, and oh is she delighted. She begins to laugh heartily, leaning back on her stool and forwards again, eyes bright and wide as her grin that splits her face ear to ear. As she laughs she asks, "Whatcha think they'd do? Stand on each other's backs? Stand up on paws and like.. yeah." She leaves it there and snickers, grin returning. She leans in a bit then to catch the height, and she pulls back with another laugh, giving an excited, "Hey! That's the sameee!" Pause. She eyes Maud, looks down to her boots, up again, and her gaze squints. She gets all super serious and asks, "Wanna trade wardrobe pieces? I warn you, though, half my stuff doesn't match." A brow lifts questioningly and she eyes Maud closely, trying not to grin too much even though she appears to be enjoying herself too much.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Right now? My suitcase is in my van outside. I left Bubbles on guard duty incase anyone tries to steal my shit again." Maud cradles her cider glass close to her belly with one hand and runs the thumb of her other hand under and along the length of one of her suspender straps. "The Nockers in San Francisco said..." and now she's doing a horrible, gravely voiced impression of the typical, 'old and grouchy, wise one', "...Maudster, you're going to find your home out there. Destiny's calling. Just not here in the big Bay. Just not in our place. So get your shit and get out."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Maud 'waves' her cider glass around, gesturing toward the empty air in front of her as she returns to her normal voice. "He had a point, didn't he? Everyone in that over-priced city is at least five foot eight. Who'd thunk I'd come and find the short-stuffs down here in Prospect. Something in the water, yeah? Or... THE CIDER!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover's lips begin to twitch softly as she watches Maud, slowly losing her ability to keep from cracking that grin with each second that passes, and eventually she's laughing again. That grin widens once more and she says, "To be fair, I'm not from here, either! Not exactly sure -where- I'm technically from.. what with all how my mom and dad were," she lowers her voice to murmur closer to Maud, "In the Dreaming," she sits up, voice back to its regular volume, "someplaceeeee somewhere. They don't really remember." She snickers a little.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | As her fries arrive, soaked in gravy and mashed potatoes as requested, she nudges them a little closer to Maud before taking a fork and digging in. "That's cool, that ya came from San Francisco. Haven't been there yet.. I think.. or.. shit, have I?" she asks herself with a shrug. "Anyway.. and no. Not right now with the clothes. I didn't bring my stuff, unless you wanna take the overalls and have me walk home in my shirt and undies. Wouldn't be the first time, but if i can avoid it, I will."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Maud closes her eyes and gently shakes her head side to side in the negative. "Uh-uh. None of the boys in this bar would want to see THAT. It'd kill them!" The red-head finally decides to take a seat and she clambers up onto the barstool beside Clover. "Hospitality!" She announces, her mouth curving into another wide and wolfish grin that shows off those canines. "But fuck, my manners. Not like that. There was the PAUSE there, like a comma. Manners, right!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The redhead lifts her hand to her face and licks her palm from heel to fingers, then holds it out for Clover to shake. "Maud Teasedale. You may have heard of me, though I'm not sure if my shit reached the waves down here when I was last blasting out of Bakersfield. The Maudster. Of THE Maudster and Bubbles. You know. Fae Free Radio?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover's just a grinning as she watches Maud and her antics, and she starts to laugh again. Oh, she's beyond delighted, for sure. She snickers at the mention of manners, and when she realizes just what manners were missing, she gasps, "Ah! Right! Gah. Sorry!" She laughs a little more and puts her fork down quickly, stabbing it into her fries before turning more towards the other and lifting.. her hand. She squints a little at the way the hand is licked, but hey. Why not? She starts to grin as she slowly lifts her (own!) hand to her mouth, and she gives a hesitant lick from heel, over palm and to fingertips. Her hand is then offered for a shake!
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Maud.. Teasedale? That a real last name?" she asks, lips tugging to the right corner of her mouth for a wicked smirk, and then it's gone. "I.. I am -so- sorry to admit that I do not know of this station.. but I am suddenly so friggin excited to hear it. Eek!" She giggles madly at that and her eyes widen, the young woman bouncing on her seat and shaking that hand harder and faster for a second before moving to release it. "That's so damn cool! Ah! I love it! How do I not know about this?! I love to travel and.. wait. You said van.. and Bubbles? I wanna seeeeee," she growls.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Maud exchanges saliva-handshakes like they were the most normal thing in the world though she DOES wipe her palm on her hip once the exchange is finished. "It's not really..." Her voice drops but only a 'little', "...legal, so you say. But not everyone can hear it if you get my drift?" The red-head nods her chin toward the slowly-growing crowd. "Most of these idiots don't even listen to 'FM' anymore. It's all..." and there she goes with another impersonation, this one a pretty spot on, boring sounding announcers voice, "...Just Listen Wherever YOU Get Your Podcasts." Pause and the impersonation is dropped. "So, no biggie... HEY!"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Unless Clover blocks, dodges, or somehow supernaturally avoids it, Maud will quickly reach out and slap the other woman's knee. "I'VE GOT IT. I'll interview YOU! After I get all poked, prodded, and signed off on... or whatever scary things your people do when vetting 'new comers' around here." .
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover is paying most of her attention to Maud, and she's busy staring her down and listening to her while absentmindedly wiping her hand on her shorts, eyes unblinking as she stares! Those eyes widen and she starts to smile more, and when smacked on the knee she flinches heavily as is a balloon had been popped right behind her. It sends her into laughing, and as that smile widens she says, "Yes! Please! Oh, that'd just be sooooo much fun! Oh wow!" There's more laughter to follow, plenty of excited smiles, and she even starts to wiggle a bit on her seat.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | As she wiggles she takes another quick bite of her food, and she then asks, "Where are you going to set up shop? Or do you um.. Have like.. ah, radio.. signal transmitter magical thingies in your van?" she asks, squinting. "Or.. how ever you do it.." She grins at that. "They didn't poke or prod me or anything, but maybe I just got lucky cause I ran into an old travel-buddy of mine when I arrived, and he sorta told people I wasn't a shit person or something... whatever he did. I guess most tent to take Ollie's word for it. He's great." Her smile returns, still looking quite excited.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "I need an Ollie of my own. I had a... Derrick and a Jolene when I was rolling down from the Bay. We stopped in Monterray but then they tried to steal Bubbles and my catalytic converter so I left them at the beach. Kicked Derrick in his..." And Maud kicks the bar with a loud thud, "...little Derrick right before, too." Pause. "Fuckers." Another longer pause that has Maud falling quiet for a moment, dark-blue gaze drifting toward those french fries.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Um... I have a thing I made. It's short-wave, yeah, god I hate you you're so fucking smart, that I can just plug in to the wall or my van adapter. Microphone, inputs for Bubbles' sound board, antennae and then..." The goblinoid 'blows up' her fists in front of her and sprinkles their debris over the bar counter in front of them, "...SHOW TIME. So I can be mobile or stationary. Whatever works. And only WE can hear it. Killer, huh?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Well, Ollie is loved by pretty much everyone here, though most call him 'Wick' cause it's his last name, but that's super weird to me since I know him as Oliver and all, but yeah," Clover says with a little laugh, followed b a louder one and another jumping flinch at the kick to the bar. That makes her grin far too wide. She takes another bite of her fries, then nudges them closer to Maud as she says, "Take some, please!! If I eat them all I'll be too full to stop by for ice cream or donuts on the way home, and then I'll be mad at myself for it. Eat, eat!" she encourages again, nudging the plate once more.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | As she pokes at little bites she keeps her eyes on the other, and she smiles while chewing. "That's so cool. Like.. One of the coolest things I've heard about so far. You got a number I can have? I wanna hang out some and I don't wanna have to go trying to chase you around town." She tugs the bib of her overalls out, which currently holds a few rocks, wilted flowers, a loose stick of gum, a half-smoked joint and her cell. "And you gotta tell me about Bubbles.. I wanna meet.. him? It? Bubbles?"
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Yeah, yeah, I was just letting you get first dibs." Maud does dig into the fries now, happy to use her hands instead of Clover's fork. Whether or not it is expected or a complete surprise, the red-headed Nocker has somewhat decent table manners and even chews with her mouth closed, swallowing before speaking again. "We can trade numbers. My phone sometimes breaks but..." and yes, another recognizable voice, "...If You Live Your Name And A Brief Message..." and it's gone, "...I'll get back eventually."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "What else you got in there?" Maud asks, leaning sideways so she can try to peek into the pouch of the overalls. "Bubbles is all of the above. He's my monkey. My assistant. My second in command. Fucker practically runs my shit for me. Scares the kids, though. Like 'Murder Hobo in a Jack-in-the-Box' scares."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Gimmie," Clover says about the number, and she'll be sure to type it in to her phone before she goes to put the cellphone back into the bib. When asked about it she leans forward and tugs it out to show the other, and she beams. "Cool, huh? I love looking for odd rocks, and there's plenty out here.. on the beach and in the desert.. and shells and bones and all kinda of neat shit on the ground. -If- you are looking when you're walking, and not just walking about. I tend to either run about or have my nose stuck in the dirt while wandering," she admits with a soft snicker, one that calms as she hears more about Bubbles.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover sits still, blinks a bit, stares.. and then says, "I must see him. Monkey, check. Runs stuff, check. Scary, check.. Where's your van?" She reaches down to her plate and nudges it forwards, and she tells Charlie, "Save this for me, please!" before she turns to Maud again and grins wide. "Can I see it? The van? And Bubbles?"
| |
| − | Writing reality out to disk. Please wait...
| |
| − | Reality saved. Thank you for your patience.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Maud's own phone is tugged from the back right pocket of her jeans where it had been poking out and taunting anyone who may have been peeking at her butt. Pervs. The phone is pushed toward Clover, "Number's there in the Contacts. Password is C.U.N...F." Another handful of potato-covered french fries and then the red-headed Nocker is hopping to her feet. "Van's right out there..." She starts in a voice that quickly grows in volume until she is all but shouting the rest, "...in front where I'm NOT GOING TO MURDER YOU."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The short woman waits for Clover to find the number, which is easy enough to do as there's an entry for 'ME' in the contacts app, then she gestures toward the door. "Follow my lead, girlfriend."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover giggles as she hears the password, which she -does- have to try again on. Musta not believed what the last letter was, or maybe it was just a slip of the finger. She enters her number and adds 'Clover' as her name. Finally! It's then handed back over to Maud and she grins wide, starting to laugh again at what's said so loud for all to hear. "Gee, I hope she has candy!" she can't help but say to anyone who is looking at the two after that outburst a not-murderer would say, and she bounces along behind the other, grin still wide as can be.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover follows after Maud and asks, "So, were ya always from San Fran, or did you end up there from somewhere else?" She pauses for just a second, eeking, "Or should I not ask you anything, and save it until I can interview you? Should we just keep quiet till then? Save it all for later? I can be quiet if ya like. Keep it all.. mysterious and whatnot," she says.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Ask away, Buttercup." Maud slaps a ten dollar bill on the bar counter before she leads the way toward the door. "And I'm interviewing YOU! Or we'll see." The short woman adopts a confident little saunter as she walks and she even offers a gruff little, "HeyHowAreYa?" to a grey haired regular in a cowboy hat as the old man steps in from the street.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Out into the street is where Maud leads Clover and the pair only have to walk ten feet before they see it. The van. What a Piece. Of. Shit. An old, beige conversion van that probably saw it's last family trip in 1987 and has spent every minute since in an impound or something. "She may not look like much but she's got it where it counts, kid." Maud explains in an impersonation of an older man from some sci-fi movie that absolutely noone's ever heard about. She leads the way not to the passenger door but to the sliding door on the side of the large behemoth which she slides open with a grunt.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Hey! We're not done eating yet!" Clover grunts when Maud slaps the money down before they head out. She could stay and argue about it, but nah. Not with the promise of going out side to see the van. THE van!
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Piece of crap or not, when Clover sees the van her eyes go wide as saucers and she releases a giddy little squeal, both hands lifting to cup her cheeks as she starts to do an awkward sort of.. shimmy, bounce-around type dance that seems to charge her a little before she is running off to the van and putting her hands allllll over it. She giggles madly as she looks about here and there, and when the van is opened she squeals again, nearly shouting, "This is so friggin cool! AHH!" Yeah, very excited. Easily excited, but it could be worse. "I love it! How cool!!??!" She's clapping as she just about jumps into the van.. She certainly looks like she wants to, but she isn't -that- rude. She does, however, mash a knee in an ouch-inducing way against the doorway as she hangs on to the side of the van and leeeaaannnssss in to take a peek!
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Go on in! Just don't touch the red bag of parts on the captain's seat. Bubbles'll lose his fucking shit!" Maud's wolfish grin grows even... wolfier? when Clover bangs her knee. She stands there next to the sliding door, one had on the handle, proud as middle-aged suburbian showing off his new golf clubs to the neighbors. Except this isn't no fancy shmancy seven iron. This is the Maudmobile!
| |
| − |
| |
| − | The inside of the van is very lived in, to put it lightly. A sleeping bag is pulled out across the back seat that is not currently pulled down into into a bed at the moment and one of the two middle row captain's seats has been completely removed, leaving space for all sorts of stuff on the floor. What looks to be Maud's radio broadcast equipment is front and center though there is a box of random electronics and another of various tools. A suitcase is wedged behind the driver's seat, cloths sticking out, and a tiny barrel rests between the driver's and front passenger's, fast food wrappers filling it to the brim.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | As for Bubbles? No sign. Though there is a cymbal monkey doll sitting on the dashboard facing out toward the street, as if on guard.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "Oh.. my.. gawd.. I love it. I absolutely love it," Clover says as she leans into the nearest seat, closing her eyes for a moment as she inhales the scents of the van, no matter what they may be. She swoons against the seat and opens her eyes again, then looks to Maud as she says, "It reminds me of a car I had once. Had these seats that could fold back and flat, or take them out completely. I stuffed a little blowup mattress back there, put up some fairy lights.. It was perfect for traveling. Just.. you and the road and miles and miles.. It was so much fun. Ya know? There's so much freedom when your home is on wheels," she says, sighing gently again and grinning afterwards.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | She looks about the van a bit more then, taking it all in, and she grins wider when she sees the equipment. "You're gonna conduct your interviews in here, yeah?" She just wants to make sure. Her gaze continues to shift about, and when she sees that monkey in the front she pauses. "..Really?" Her face slowly turns towards Maud and that grin goes far too wide. "That's Bubbles?" She looks thrilled once more.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Funny. When Clover turns back, the cymbal monkey is facing the other way with it's back now turned to the outside world and it's front and face facing the silver and cream haired woman. Maud doesn't react to the change in positioning. The woman grunts softly in response to the talks of fairy lights and traveling, then nods firmly in response to Clover's latter question.
| |
| − |
| |
| − | "That's Bubbles, though I'd stop smiling or you'll give him a complex. Though he IS single." Maud's thumbs have found a home in her belt loops. The Nocker waif lingers on the sidewalk just outside of the open van door. "Interview in here. In 'there'..." Murder of Crows, "...pretty much anywhere I can plug in. Preferably close to a radio tower, of course."
| |
| − |
| |
| − | Clover really can't stop grinning, especially when Bubbles has turned around, so she decides it's best to pop her head out of the van and look at Maud instead. "He seems pretty darn awesome! Cymbals and all! Hah!" She's tickled, to say the least. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but then her phone is going off in her bib and she reaches for it, looking down to the ID and giving a quick, "Ohhhh shit! I knew there was something I forgot.. Shit!" As quick as she can, Clover digs a crumpled twenty from her back pocket and hands it over as she says, "Pay Charlie for me and keep the fries!! I'll call you later!" And she turns, running off as fast as someone who hates running can. What a day!
| |
