ｊｅｆｆｅｒｓｏｎ．．．is a giant troll (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
royalpassport) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pineslog2017-03-01 11:18 pm
royalpassport) wrote in pineslog2017-03-01 11:18 pm
support a local business!
Who: Jefferson and OPEN
Where: Jefferson's tea shop, Go Ask Alice
When: Anytime from March 1 - 10 (barring events, in which case I'll edit this)
What: Just a catch-all now that Jefferson's F I N A L L Y not hiding inside his house 24/7
Warnings: References to mental illness, at most. Will update as necessary.
[Open]
When the snow cleared enough for businesses to open again, Jefferson decided it was time to finally venture into the shop he owns. His mind being as muddled as it is, he couldn't remember actually running this place. It was like... his ownership of the tea shop was a fact that he knew, intellectually, but he couldn't muster any feelings or impressions associated with it.
Not until he set foot inside, anyway. Then it came to him, scattered recollections of setting up shop and managing day-to-day operations worming their way back into his head. Yes, he realized, as he made his way through the shop, from the front room to the back, this is mine. And yet, even then... Certain things were jarring, at odds with his sense of self, such as it is, fragmented and quite possibly deluded.
The decor, it's all wrong. Not to his tastes, even if he can recall picking out this thing and that. And besides, there's something about the mere idea of teatime that sets him on edge, though he can't quite place the why of it.
But at least this little tea shop is something of a sanctuary. If he's here, then he doesn't have to be in that hostile, unpleasant place he's forced to call home. So he opened the shop back up and, with much of the staff having moved on during those weeks he kept the business closed with no word of ever reopening, he's left operating with a skeleton crew. It keeps him busy, if nothing else, and distracted from the mad, impossible fantasies swimming in his head.
By now, he practically lives at the tea shop. Sometimes, he even sleeps in the office here. It's not the healthiest way of going about his life, but a reliance on unhealthy coping mechanisms, too, is familiar. At least there's a strange comfort in that.
Where: Jefferson's tea shop, Go Ask Alice
When: Anytime from March 1 - 10 (barring events, in which case I'll edit this)
What: Just a catch-all now that Jefferson's F I N A L L Y not hiding inside his house 24/7
Warnings: References to mental illness, at most. Will update as necessary.
[Open]
When the snow cleared enough for businesses to open again, Jefferson decided it was time to finally venture into the shop he owns. His mind being as muddled as it is, he couldn't remember actually running this place. It was like... his ownership of the tea shop was a fact that he knew, intellectually, but he couldn't muster any feelings or impressions associated with it.
Not until he set foot inside, anyway. Then it came to him, scattered recollections of setting up shop and managing day-to-day operations worming their way back into his head. Yes, he realized, as he made his way through the shop, from the front room to the back, this is mine. And yet, even then... Certain things were jarring, at odds with his sense of self, such as it is, fragmented and quite possibly deluded.
The decor, it's all wrong. Not to his tastes, even if he can recall picking out this thing and that. And besides, there's something about the mere idea of teatime that sets him on edge, though he can't quite place the why of it.
But at least this little tea shop is something of a sanctuary. If he's here, then he doesn't have to be in that hostile, unpleasant place he's forced to call home. So he opened the shop back up and, with much of the staff having moved on during those weeks he kept the business closed with no word of ever reopening, he's left operating with a skeleton crew. It keeps him busy, if nothing else, and distracted from the mad, impossible fantasies swimming in his head.
By now, he practically lives at the tea shop. Sometimes, he even sleeps in the office here. It's not the healthiest way of going about his life, but a reliance on unhealthy coping mechanisms, too, is familiar. At least there's a strange comfort in that.
no subject
Determined to keep his mind distracted from any strange fantasies that might try to sneak into his head (definitely a normal, sane fear, right?), Jefferson's got a magazine to keep himself busy during the slow periods. Specifically, he's got an issue of Cosmo, and he's in the middle of doing a quiz when the bell jingles, alerting him to a customer. Damn, now he'll never know if he's 'good-girl hot' or 'bad-girl hot.'
The boy's familiar, in that vague sort of way that many people in town are, pinging some recognition, like Jefferson must have seen him around town before, though he'll be damned if he can remember anything beyond that. At first, he's content enough to leave him be, give him a chance to look over the menu... But that can only go for so long before he has to ask:
"Do you have any questions about the menu?"
There. See, he can do this customer service thing. Well, he'd better be able to, anyway, considering he runs a tea shop.
no subject
He looks up into the eyes of the store employee behind the counter and gives a small, sheepish upturn of lips as an apology for the obvious loitering. "Uh, no. Sorry, I just... I mean, I'm just trying to see if anything jumps out at me."
That still sounds weird, doesn't it? Most people have so far been understanding about the ball of tangled yarn that is his head, but Jack hastens to clarify.
"I have this feeling like I should recognize all of this, but I don't. They said I cracked my head pretty good at the hospital." Hence the world record attempt at blank staring.