[008]

[bloodsugar]

A): phone - mid-morning.

[OPEN;]

[one hazard of spending a good deal of your time lurking on the phone lines is that one might become prone to forgetting that people can HEAR you while you listen. so, it's entirely innocent, of course, when the half-absent and somewhat petulant mumble comes across the phone lines sometime this morning.]

...all this talk of Valentines Day... honestly! As if they're rubbing it in some of us are destined to be forever alone. 'Vow of celibacy'? More like vow of perpetual and ongoing boredom.

[...a pause.]

It's not like I wanted to find out what a romantic holiday with another human being is like, regardless... eh? I'm sure edible underwear isn't all it's cracked up to be, anywa--

[...]

Eh? [wait for it.]

AH--

[...there's a rather flustered squawk, and a hasty CLICK of the phone into the cradle.]

[filter to Charles Fei-Ong]

Alright, so maybe I'm a little late in checking in. You'll forgive me, right? After all, I'm sure you've been busy collecting recipes and taste testing! [no really are you okay... :| last time he saw you, after all, was... uh, colorful, to say the least.]

...I don't suppose you'd be up for a cup of tea, Charles? [he has a feeling you'll just bs him even if you weren't alright over the phone, anyway. CLEARLY HE MUST BE NOSY IN PERSON.]

[filter to Esther Blanchett]

Esther-- do you have a minute? There's... ah, something I wanted to ask you. [AND IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH EDIBLE UNDERWEAR HE SWEARS DEAR GOD.]

[filter to Django]

How are you holding up, partner? I hope the radio silence is because you've been gloriously enjoying the sunshine, hm? Making up for lost time and all that...! [are you okay partner? :(]

B): action; 1648 Albright Lane - lunchtime.

[there's the smell of something burning, late in the morning approaching lunchtime -- and if Rachel or Cain follows their nose, they might find the source in the form of one (1) Abel Nightroad with his drone wife's FRILLY PINK APRON several sizes too small draped around his neck and haphazardly tied back in the process of butchering... grilled cheese. yes, he is a total failure.

...somehow, he's gotten butter all over the counter and is trying to catch an overturned bottle of orange juice that is apparently spilling its contents over and onto the floor. the pan is burning and he's jostling cups and plates, trying not to drop EVERYTHING EVER as he fumbles to cease the spill of juice fruitlessly.

NO ONE SAID YOUR DAD WAS GOOD AT BEING DOMESTIC. this is why.]

C): action; around town - afternoon.

[the tall, lanky, and often times clumsy priest is among your streets today, Mayfield! anyone similarly prone to hitting up the bakery quite often might recognize his face, or simply wish to gape at the way he's leaving cheerily with a bag under his arm and so engrossed in the effort of inhaling the vanilla frosted doughnut in his hand he is clearly not paying attention to anything else. ...like the sidewalk. which, he may or may not inevitably trip over at an uneven crack and WOEFULLY lose his doubtlessly precious bounty as the bag tumbles to spill the fruits of his labor everywhere...

...and maybe his doughnut might happen to ah. misplace... itself from his hand and end up on your face. WHAT DO?]

D): action; church - evening.

[Abel's day eventually brings him to someplace to seek solace, to rest a weary soul... or something of that effect. one who enters might be hard pressed to FIND said priest who should be more or less easy to spot on the regular, right? how many 6'4 lanky bastards in cassock ARE there in here?

...but if one is apt enough, they might notice that the Father's side of the confessional is occupied. do you care to confess? ...or notice that said Father might just be lightly snoring if you listen hard enough...]

Comments

[sunnydwithagun]

(Django seems to do that a lot, but he's not exactly sure how he does it.The mark of a true hero is humility)

Then let us continue forward, partner!

(And after giving Abel his autograph refreshing his zeal, Django opens the doors to the library. The literary adventure begins!)

[bloodsugar]

[lksjdf such a gentleman, too. Abel walks in at the invitation, looking around the interior curiously. HM.]

Alright, alright... where do you think books on holidays will be?

[sunnydwithagun]

It's hard to say; if the library's as fickle as I've heard, it could be anywhere. Perhaps there's a history or tradition section we can look for?

[bloodsugar]

Hm, that's a good idea... Maybe find an official calender archived somewhere?

[sunnydwithagun]

Maybe. The librarian might not be much help, but perhaps the files on the main desk have some hints in them?

[bloodsugar]

Do you think we can take a peek? I bet there might be something useful...

[sunnydwithagun]

I've dabbled in stealth before, so I don't see why we can't...

(Thanks to his experiences as the main character of games by Hideo Kojima, Django sneaks on over to the desk while the drone librarian is busy talking to herself about keeping the books in organized disorganization or whatever she spoke about. In the meantime, he swipes a binder or two and presents them to Abel.)

[bloodsugar]

[see, this is why Hideo Kojima is our ninja god.

Abel tries to cover his amusement behind a hand, but it isn't going so well as he takes a binder and flips it open, his back to the desk.]

You're pretty crafty, aren't you?

[sunnydwithagun]

(That is the undeniable truth of the world.)

Years of experience.

Find anything in there, yet?

[bloodsugar]

No, no calender yet... Come to think of it, they never do mention the year even on the news, do they?

[sunnydwithagun]

I wouldn't be surprised if Mayfield just cycles through the same year over and over again. Time and space are already distorted here...

[bloodsugar]

...You know, that's very possible. We don't really know much about how Mayfield functions at its base, do we? Aside from the fact that it seems technology is responsible for upkeeping just about everything...

[sunnydwithagun]

Technology is fascinating like that. Much too complex for my understanding, but fascinating nonetheless.

(Anything he couldn't fix with a smack of a lever was too complicated.)

I guess that's one of the many mysteries of Mayfield...perhaps we should look elsewhere for holiday information?

[bloodsugar]

Mm, do you think maybe there are archives?

[sunnydwithagun]

Possibly; I'm sure Mayfield keeps a record of what it's done to look back and have a laugh.

[bloodsugar]

I'm not sure we would find them here, though. That kind of information would be too convenient to leave lying around, right? The Mayor might have something like that...

[sunnydwithagun]

The Mayor or the Milkman, maybe. They're all working together in some way...

[bloodsugar]

Unfortunately.

[the Police Chief; the Mayor; the Milkman; the Postman... Lucy, Mrs. Johnson. the list goes on.]

Want to make a log of this quest? We could maybe ask the mods for help!

[sunnydwithagun]

If they're going to have their conspiracies, then we can have conspiracies of our own. Perhaps we should take the fight to them?

what did you have in mind? them hitting up one of the npc building? :o

[bloodsugar]

Take the fight to them? [--ah. well, this was certainly a different approach... he looks a little curious (and perhaps a tad wary) these are dangerous kind of things in a place like this, after all.]

Pretty much. I'm thinking Mayor's office. Any preferences?

[sunnydwithagun]

We're not going to get any answers by simply going where they want us to go. If we want to get answers, we have to step beyond their boundaries. Into the proverbial lion's den.

alksjdf /writes ooc note

[bloodsugar]

[hm. it's true that Abel has been itching to get inside the 'off limits' areas for quite some time, but...]

...I wish it were so simple. Anyone who treads into their territory ends up droned, don't they? [or... just killed for their trouble.]

[ooc: aslkdjf Django would have to talk him into it, I think... or, Abel would go with him if he said he was going to go it alone because SCREAM DJANGO DON'T DIE. he's wary of pissing off the npc's ever since his phone call with Johnson hahaha ;;]

[sunnydwithagun]

((OOC: It's nothing to worry about; they'd have to discuss a plan first, anyway. Django's probably too reckless for his own good, anyway.))

That's the problem: this town will drone and kill anyone they want to, innocent or not. Everyone got droned when a few people broke the machine, didn't they? Many people died the week after; even more suffered injury! Whether or not we go through with this, Mayfield will continue torturing all of its inhabitants...but if we accomplish this, we can save lives. We can help people endure whatever this town throws at us, we can help them get through this and back home!

...but I haven't seen everything you're seen, so I'll understand if you don't want to take part in this. Your help would mean a lot to me, but if you don't want to do this, I need you to tell me now.

[bloodsugar]

[Django... he looks sincerely worried as he goes on, nudging the glasses a bit higher up his nose before eyeing the drones in the library. he ends up gesturing for the doors.]

...Let's take a walk and talk about this, alright?

[ooc: okay!! i guess let's see how it goes icly and take it from there? maybe build a plan if it looks like they'll go for it laksj]

[sunnydwithagun]

((Sounds good to me!))

...Alright.

(And as before, Django makes for the door and holds it open so they can both make their exit.)