Just a smalltown girl...

Most people who invited friends over for breakfast invited those friends to their home, not their office. Then again, most people who invited their friends to their home for breakfast

a) had a kitchen
b) had friends who don't effectively live next door to their office
c) were most people, which Bo was not. Hell, the jury was still out on whether Bo was even people.

All of which added up to a security office full of J,GoB doughnuts, Perk coffee, and orange juice that was not a pitcher of mimosas and would never be, no matter how much someone with an unpronounceable Russian last name might bitch wish otherwise.

It also added up to a crapload of leftover doughnuts, coffee, and still-not-mimosas once those friends were no longer in residence, because somebody was so not used to doing breakfast for more than two, and had way overcompensated.

[OOC: First thread is for breakfast with the Canuckian travelers, second is open office hours!]

For all that the outside of Trick's beloved Dal Riata looked like just another entrance down Bad Decision Alley, the inside was warm and comforting, with wood that polished until it glowed and comfortable stools and chairs that had been worn down by years of patrons.

It was the perfect place to relax and unwind, whether with a beer after a long, hard day. Light Fae and Dark could mingle and rub elbows without exchanging more than dirty looks or fanged glares. The Dal was a Waystation: a neutral, Fae-only pub, where they were free from the need to mask their true nature.

It was still a little bit before the dinner rush, which meant the bar itself was more empty than not. Which, considering the group about to enter the Dal, was probably for the best.

( You're sure this is the right address? )
( Later... )

[Preplayed with the splendiferous regretiz4suckas, godgavemecable, chose_humanity and glacial_witch. NFB since off-island, but OOC=A-OK! Dyson and Trick's conversation folded, spindled, and mutilated from Lost Girl 1x01, It's A Fae Fae Fae Fae World.]

"Okay so yes, I have a giant bathtub and you don't?" Of which Bo had recent mildly saddening reminder. "But I still say the room service makes up for it."

[OOC: for the gentleman in question.]

"I had phone sex with the Portalocity dude, Mitchell." (vaguely NSFWish)
"If the Welsh had ever heard of bundt cake..." (Mitchell, Kate, et al)
Bartending in the dark (Guy, Toby, Cassidy, Raven, Jake, Bruce Banner, Deadpool)
"Nice cock." (Karla, 'Dite)
"A good, healthy flock." (Tyrion, Jake, Jaina, Eric, One Of Those Weekends)
Wearin' o the green. Or not. (Guy, Kenzi)

This week's postcard was from Barbados, actually, not Morocco. It still put a much-needed smile on Bo's face as she relaxed in front of the tv with a Guinness in honor of other absent friends.

[OOC: for the tricksy tiny one. No, not him. The other tricksy tiny one. The one she's actually met.]

Why I Hate Gremlins, By Bo Jones, Age 29 (Jake, Jono, Hercules, Kenzi)
Portalocity ... kind of doesn't suck? (Trick)
Mitchell's Place (...Guess)
Grownup Pyjama Party At Caritas (Kitty, Herc, Jono, Cindy)

"Oh look, there's a ceiling."

Because, you know, yesterday, there hadn't been.

There hadn't been a Mitchell, either.

The math here will not be left as an exercise for the student, though Kenzi will undoubtedly do it anyway.

[OOC: For the resident!]

Saturday: Devil's Nest (Loki, Eric)
Sunday: Theatre (Mitchell)

Fall Break
Monday: Jake | Ramona and Topher
Tuesday: Habitat for Humanity
Thursday: NOT KISSING THE FISH, JAKE (Kenzi, Jake)
Friday: Spa

Saturday: Homecoming
Friday: Fluffy Bunny Crime Scene (Kenzi, Bart)
Saturday: Devil's Nest
Saturday: Devil's Nest (Tyrion)
Sunday: Theatre (Mitchell)

Bo didn't like that a weekend wakeup -- before she even opened her eyes -- of "at least it couldn't be worse than last Saturday" was starting to become habitual.

Know what she disliked even more than that? When she was wrong.

"What the *&^*&$&^%&(^%)*_^)$&%^$&*^%&^%^&*@@@?!1!?" She said it before the mirror, she said it to the mirror, she said it after the mirror. Then to her closet -- how the hell was she going to go to work like this? -- but by that time she'd at least managed to cut off the What the...

Then she said, "*&^*&$&^%&(^%)*_^)$&%^$&*^%&^%^&*@@@?!1! I need pants!" but that was to her phone.

[OOC: for the dude on the other end of the line.]

Bo had spent a lot of this week cleaning up the mess that last week had created, but she hadn't got anyone to come in and do the big repair job yet. No, not the one on her brain where she paid somebody to make her forget everything that happened between Friday and Monday. The one at the back of the hardware store, where right now there was a vaguely Bo-and-Mitchell-shaped hole in the wall.

Last night she'd at least managed to drag the big chunks of fallen masonry out to the scrapyard, but the hole itself was temporarily blocked with a bookcase and waiting on a call-back from the mainland, while Bo slept the happy, exhausted sleep of the dragged-masonry-to-the-scrapyard-last-night.

Or did she? Dun dun DUUUUUN...

[OOC: for an uninvited guest!]

"Deb" (whose name was by no means Deb, and thank God she remembered that now, because sgajdhgakjdh what a freaking stupid name) leaned back against the brick wall and took a long, slow drag on her cigarette. One of her last three cigarettes. The one spluttering street lamp cast dull, intermittent reflections in the leather jacket that she wrapped closely around her against the cooling night.

Don't ask where she got a leather jacket; when someone from Costume hands you something, you wear it. Even over a flight-attendant uniform.

Three cigarettes. Well, two and a half now. What was she going to do when they ran out? What? Would her memories of who she truly was disappear back into the withdrawal-crazed cover-story that was "Deb" or was that recovery a permanent one?

What was the cargo on that flight, and had it been destroyed along with most of the passengers, or was it even now in the hands of the Skywalkers or the Starks, either of which could spell certain doom for the world if they realized what they held? ...Not that she remembered what it was.

Sigh. Two and a quarter cigarettes left.

[OOC: for one who ...possibly knows who he is? Probably. This weekend, who can tell?]

Voicemail (Kenzi)
Town Hall Meeting (Kenzi)
World's Worst Saturday (Kenzi, Kate-with-the-sword)
Phone Call (Kenzi)
MST3K (Mitchell)
Disney (Kenzi)
Devil's Nest
Devil's Nest (Dick)

The wake-up routine for unfamiliar places was so painfully familiar to Bo that she could run through it in seconds, before she even opened her eyes.

Where: bed (not mine)
Somebody else in it? (yes)
Somebody dead? (.......................)

Okay, that one required a little thought this time, which was hard because not quite awake, but getting there enough to smile when the complicated yes filtered into her consciousness. Mmmm, vampires, and mmmmm, gray skin disappearing so fast that the only reason Mitchell hadn't stopped the proceedings to stare at her was hi, Proceedings, thank you very much.

So there was that, which explained the relaxed, glowy, ready-to-bounce-out-of-bed-anytime-now.... way that Bo didn't feel at all. Even opening her eyes seemed like an effort, and when she did, she regretted it because the room was somehow too bright. The hell?

Stumbling (sans sheet because somebody had it twisted around his legs) to the bathroom could be a thing, since it wasn't like that somebody needed a mirror in his bedroom. Stumbling both because she was keeping her eyes slitted shut and because the flu-y ache was back with a vengeance.

Almost like something that wasn't Bo wasn't at all happy with her erasing the signs of its presence in her body, and had spent the night going oh yeah? Heal THIS, biotch. But that couldn't happen, right? That wasn't the way her power worked.

Right. Bathroom. No light needed. Mirror.

"FUUUUUUUUU--"

[OOC: establishy, vampire-modding with permission!]

Mitchell might not be forced to sleep while the sun was up like certain other vampires, but Bo still waited until twilight fell to walk over to his place. While the sun was up and the students were still moving around the grounds, she'd felt like she ought to stay close to the cameras and the school, just in case Kenzi's scenario of rampaging razor-toothed deer breaching the walls turned into more than an attempt to ditch class.

Yeah, so, um. That gun on Bo's hip, the one she'd snatched from a cranked-up mugger what seemed like half a lifetime ago? She hadn't seen any more razor-toothed deer on the way to Mitchell's, but if one came her way, she wasn't going after it with a security-issue blunt-ended phallic symbol.

Her knock at the door was a little bit nervous, and a little bit dull. That would be the gloves.

[OOC: For the resident, modded with his permission, and eeeeeeeepic SP.]

Mystery Sign Theatre (Mitchell)
Devil's Nest (Kenzi, Eric)
Devil's Nest (Eric, Ronan, Guy, that man in black)
Sake Party For.... askjdhaskldjh (Kenzi)
Devil's Nest (Guy, Dick, Kenzi, Eric, The Shirt Off Tiny's Back)
The Campgrounds, aka Really, Fandom? Really? (Anakin, Deadpool, Zoe, Barney)

Welcome Picnic (Claudia, Hercules, Dick, Kenzi, Guy, Hermione)
Checking Up In (Mitchell)
The Devil's Nest (Kenzi)

When she'd fallen into bed late last night, Bo had thought that after everything that happened yesterday, she'd want to crash until noon. Instead, after a few hours of exhausted sleep, she'd woken at three to stare at the ceiling and think too much (or maybe not enough) about vampires and werewolves and ghosts, oh my.

By the time the hardware store's delivery bell rang at six, she was beyond grateful for the distraction that the package from the Fandom High office provided. Ooh, the job that didn't involve politely explaining to sixteen year olds why they couldn't have a beer. Keys, I.D. badge, a couple of t-shirts, walkie-talkie, flashlight, a pepper-spray-sized bottle of something labeled Gremlin Repellant (with a pink-post-it note attached that read "Works, but Lemon Pledge is cheaper. We hate the smell. Love, Bob."), a handful of increasingly surreal pamphlets, and a map of the school.

Neatly hand-printed over the back end of a large area labeled Fosse's Closet was [SECURITY CENTER]. Less neatly-printed was "Sorry, we keep forgetting it's there; Constable Hotpants has his own teacher office and Dean Head just used his tube."

Bo wasn't sure which she did (or didn't) want somebody to explain first: the hotpants or the tube. Still. One trip over the wall later (what? it was shorter than walking to the gate), she'd made her way up to the school and let herself into an office with a bank of security screens that thankfully didn't remind her too much of the one on which she'd watched Annie disappear, since these were in color.

Also a spinny chair.

Oh, shut up, you'd try it out too.

[Open is as open does. Hush, there was always a security center behind the janitor's closet.]

The werewolves were yelling. The guard posted outside their door was... trying to ignore it, as ordered. They were meant to be safe here, right?

~

Waiting in the dark was all well and good until there were people screaming Help -- from a direction that didn't include Mitchell and Eric. Bo debated going after the vampires for about half a second before shaking her head and heading off toward the shouting instead.

"Something's wrong with Nina!" she heard as she got ( closer to the commotion. )

[Continued from here and here, and followed up here. Preplayed with some Dutch chick and every Skywalker boy ever. Taken from Being Human 2x08. Warning: death of a minor NPC, something-that-might-as-well-be of a major one. Off-island, so NFI/NFB, but OOC is tea and jammy dodgers to the soul.]

Who knew you could not only buy an obscenely large stone bathtub at the market across the causeway, but also hire three strapping half-naked possibly-Greek boys to carry it home for you, all for the low, low price of three Toonies, two quarters and a Ferelden silver coin, while not speaking a word of the language?

Yes, okay, fine. Bo knew. Yes, okay, fine, sometimes Bo cheated. Still, as pleasant as borrowing other people's might be, after weeks in this place, Bo finally had her own bathtub, the merchant had some interesting foreign coins, and even the delivery guys didn't exactly leave the premises unhappy. All's well that ends well, right?

Now all she had to do was figure out how to fill the thing, considering that even with the water and electricity finally turned on (thank you, unexpected second job, thank you), the hardware store didn't exactly have a plumbing hookup for an ancient Minoan bathtub.

Maybe she could hire the Greek himbos to come back and fill it with pots of hot water from the sink?

__
[Expecting some undead, non-Greek himbos gentlemen callers. That Mitchell and Eric were here is fine for broadcast; topics of conversation, probably not. Alllso getting NWS-y after the comment-collapse.]

Finance Class (Eric, Jack Sparrow, Isabela, Kate)
Devil's Nest (Isabela, Eric, Jane)
Finance Class (Eric, Jack Sparrow)
Devil's Nest (Bozo, Columbus, Eric, Isabela, Tony Stark)
Turtle & Canary (Shunsui)
Finance Class (Kate)
Devil's Nest (Isabela, Dick, Jack Priest, Mitchell)
Devil's Nest (Lancelot, Cinderella, Jack Priest, Jason Todd)
Kate is not a vampire except wait
You're offering me a what? (Zoe)
Devil's Nest
Finance Class (Kate)
Devil's Nest (kasjdhaklsjdh SPIDERS)

Of course after all the time she'd spent stuck in this town, it was as easy as walking through a door. Or a gate, or a trellis or whatever it was the clerk from the bakery had rushed out of while Bo was standing near the causeway trying to decide how she was going to pick a Viking. Look for one whose kids had more than the usual number of bruises?

"Where the hell did you come from," when he almost knocked her over, and "Baltimore," with a blink like she was the crazy one for asking, and here she was, in an alley behind a bar on Front Street in the middle of the night.

( Cut for minor violence/inappropriate touching/hungry succubus/you get the idea. )

[Off-island, NFB, etc. Up SUPER early for massive SP, for one who knows who he is, except he doesn't yet. DAMMIT.]

A collection post for snippets, memefics, and such!

Future Possibilities Memes

Mitchell, Eric, and Annie, with cameo (by Len)
Canadian stamps (Mitchell)
Thieves in the market (Isabela)