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Dec. 3rd, 2006

desk chair


NYC: Back at Epstein Books

Emily Hartigan's been working really, really hard recently.

The kind of hard she can't really take, anymore.

Her mun's also had the most tiring week in the history of anything ever.

And thinking back on places to go to relax, that little bookshop had been ranking pretty high up on Emily's list of places to go to relax.

She wasn't aware of just how tired she was, though. Not until she'd gotten there, sat down in a seat with her coffee and a copy of the New York Times ... and promptly fallen asleep.

Nov. 21st, 2006



NYC: Manhattan diner

Tap, tap, tap.

Under the din of the diner noises, Pete's tapping pen may go unheard. It taps in a repeat, automatic rhythm against the notepad as Pete stares ahead blankly.

Tap, tap, tap.

A cup of coffee grows cold on the table.

Tap, tap.

He's placed his order, but doesn't know what he asked for.

Tap, tap, tap.

He'll find out soon.

Nov. 19th, 2006


...you were wondering where they were, weren't you? [Starbucks, near the Manhattan Mall]

There were very few things that Marylou liked that she couldn't make for herself. Pumpkin Spice Lattes were one of them and thus are they in the coffee shop, sitting at one of the couches near the back. Aoife had her own peppermint hot chocolate to keep her busy, as well as a her half of the biscotti they'd gotten, so she figures that a little leisurely sipping is in order.

[ooc: open for tagging for anyone]

Nov. 16th, 2006



[Whenever you have a convert, just discovering their abilities-Their first trial of their abilities is usually highly explosive, very dangerous, and called an "Eruption" for the sake of giving a name to something that scares the shit outta people. This is one of those instances.]

There is a certain street in New York City.

This street's usually very crowded. It's a shopping mall to be precise.

Add a slightly enebriated female and an older man to the mix-and bad things are going to happen. But there's nothing wrong with that right? an old man who's had a little too much to drink, grabbing in the wrong places-

Alison Smart smacked her escort across the face, "You don't touch me there. Get me?"

She swooned, catching herself on a nearby car.

It's dusk, early evening, so the streets are probably more jam-packed then usual-

Too Jam-packed to see the man getting far more grabbyassed then he has any right to be.

It takes precisely three seconds for the escort to get far more physical then he should.

Two seconds for the woman to start screaming.

And one second for the man to get blown back against the wall with gale force winds.

It takes another second for the entire street to freeze and stare at the middle of the road, where a man stands-half out of a taxi-eyes milky white and hand raised in the direction of the offending individual.

The time that it takes for the pandemonium to ensue can't be measured in seconds. It happens far too quickly.

Escort flees and the Taxi takes off, pushing the woman's savior out of the door and rolling him across the street.

Nov. 4th, 2006



Training Day at Epstein Books

Tuesday doesn't look any different, Pete-wise. He's still at the cafe, still drinking espresso, still reading a newspaper. The difference is cognitive: he's waiting for someone. Isabella, in fact.

[ ooc: locked to Isabella, thanks. ]

Oct. 28th, 2006



(no subject)

[ "In dreams emotions are overwhelming."

For the curious, that's a quote from The Science of Sleep. ]

Oct. 25th, 2006


LA - Walking Around

You couldn't say he was doing anything other than wandering. He'd pop into the occasional bookshop, and he'd gone through three different Starbucks at various points, but he didn't have any specific aim really. His time in LA up till then had been show after show, which was great since he'd been getting rave reviews for the new show... but all the performing had taken it's toll on his brain and thus: day off.

He's got a pair of shades on, since this is LA, but they're perched on top of his head because it was a little dark for him to see well with them (and he's from NY).
im on ur table


Breakfast in a Los Angeles restaurant.

It's something healthy.

Which is to say, she's poking at it with a fork, hoping it will magically transform into a plate of high-calorie waffles. No, she doesn't care that she's seated at an outside table and that anyone walking on the sidewalk can see her giving that strawberry the bored glare of doom.

Oct. 24th, 2006


NYC: Alphabetizing at Epstein Books

How can you tell Keith's brother is in a bad mood? You just don't see him around. He hides in his office, does paperwork all day, leaving all the dirty work (dealing with customers) to Keith. And today it's literal dirty work: alphabetizing. Organization.

Kill him now.
captioned aoife


NY: 52nd and Park: Marylou and Aoife

Aoife has her share of chores. They have a cleaning service, but Marylou expects her to keep her room tidy, put her own clothes away, help with the washing up. Today, as Marylou is out, and the dry-cleaning has just been delivered - by a startled young man who didn't expect to have the clothes signed for by a six year old - she's putting Marylou's things away as well as her own.

She doesn't have much - kids clothes are usually designed to be machine-washable, after all, but Marylou had seemed insistant that she needed some 'nice' things - Aoife thinks the other things she has were nice enough, but she does have to admit that cashmere just feels nicer.

So, her stuff is away, and she's just hanging Marylou's silk shirts, when she comes across one that's familiar. She flips the cuff back before she goes to put it in the closet - and frowns at a faint brownish stain on the thread. There's nothing on the fabric - it must be a different fibre.

She can't think of many things taht would stain like that - and she remembers the last time that Marylou was wearing that shirt. but, having looked at the faint mark, brows knitted, for a moment, she hangs it in the closet, shuts the door, and takes the plastic bags to put with the recycling.

So, when Marylou comes home, she finds Aoife sitting on the sofa, laptop in - surprisingly - her lap, the tv tuned to Anime Network.

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