oh well I saw you at the doctor's, waiting for a test

[unweaving]

Who: Aranea Highwind, ???
Where: various
When: May
What: A catch-all
Warnings: none – will update if needed
[Open]



[ Early in the month, her time is taken up by finally setting up the... surprising stock that was delivered to Britches and Hose. She makes an effort to keep things tasteful, at least; shuffling of shelves and the addition of a folding screen to section off the collection of sex toys from the rest of the merchandise, so that people who are just there for pajamas or a sports bra don't suddenly get an eyeful of more than they bargained for. It's a display area more than anything else; one of everything on the shelves, all numbered so people can make a discreet request at the counter and have it brought to them if they're feeling shy. Further into the month the class factor is probably lowered at least a little by the proprietor's black eye, the angry purple-red of it shading through blue and green to a sickly yellow as it heals, like the world's crappiest mood ring.

After the Mayor's little announcement, the accompanying memories, and one very busy day for those trying to keep the network clean of subversion, she leaves the store to her staff more frequently. On those days she's in the bookstore, with an increasing look of frustration as she searches through books and publication dates, with occasional glances to a plasticky card she keeps mostly tucked into shoulder bag. Looking for something and clearly not finding it. Or very occasionally just at home, where anyone who comes calling might catch a glimpse of the cb radio she hauls out occasionally to flick through the channels and find – so far – nothing of importance. But on the days she's in the store, a small sign appears in suggestive proximity to the Official Notices:

Questions? We're happy to talk.

The rest of her time is given to checking in with people she knows. Social calls, except that the most likely topic of conversation is that something in this town is rotten and the stink is starting to be unavoidable. ]

Comments

for Prompto

[unweaving]

[ She's not nervous. There's no reason to be, right? It's catching up with a friend from home. It'd be weirder not to talk to him, to treat the fact that he's moved out like the end of an actual marriage instead of two people dealing appropriately with their situation. So she does a little shopping on the way home, picks up a couple of steaks and some salad in case he stays long enough for dinner, comforts herself with the idea that there's beer in the fridge and then doubles back to pick up some soda because Prompto isn't of drinking age.

Okay, maybe it's a little weird.

She feels better after getting home and stowing the food. A hot shower and a change of clothes, and it's all starting to feel pretty normal by the time she hears a knock on the door. ]

shop

[chauffeuring]

[ It isn't often that Ignis takes the time to visit Aranea in her place of work, Ignis preferring that they meet up over coffee and away from where they could disturb customers. But then it isn't all that often that Ignis sees a sign in the window pointing out that they were "happy to talk" and with that he makes a quick calculation before realizing that he can spare an hour before work sets itself on fire.

The store gets a cursory glance around, Ignis noting how things have moved around whereas other things have stayed put. It seemed that change was on the horizon whether they liked it or not and he wonders if that's an omen for anything in this strange place or not. Doubtful. Flits of fancy aren't his style and Ignis takes another quick look around before speaking up. They weren't really cousins, Ignis knows that much but at the same time those fake memories are still there and right now it's better to keep allies than make enemies.]

Aranea?

ten thousand years late

[sirnyxalot]

[Nyx had never stepped into Britches and Hose before. Being single, and not interested in wearing lingerie, it had never held any appeal. He didn't want to be known as a creep, either. In a small town like this word travels like a Glaive's knife and it would be just his luck that someone got the wrong idea.

But he owes the owner and the sign invites conversation, even if he's not planning on discussing its intended topic.

He pushes through the door, a nondescript bag in hand, and looks around for Aranea. If she's busy he'll browse around, meandering until she's not with a customer.]

bookstore!

[votively]

[The way Aranea is searching would be more than enough reason to strike up a conversation—Lunafreya spent a lot of time reading and researching as well, but getting to know the people here was just as important to her as learning what she could about this place, so sating her curiosity and chatting her up would have been an easy thing to do regardless.

But before she can even say anything, the face gives her pause. It's familiar, and unlike all the previous times when she felt like she knew a face but couldn't remember how she knew it... She knows this one. And she knows why she knows it.]

Excuse me... [She isn't afraid of whatever reaction Aranea might have to her, but she isn't sure what to expect nonetheless. She might not even remember her at all.] It's been some time, hasn't it?

[If she didn't remember, it was fine. That would be enough for her to know that she probably should, eventually.]