(no subject)

[holdingacat]

Cecil limps in, leaning on an intensely sparkly cane, his attention more on whatever he's typing into his phone than where he's going. You'd think, as a resident of a certain friendly desert community, he'd have more attention on his surroundings... yet here we are.

He only looks up when he abruptly loses service when the door closes.

"Oh. Well, I guess I could take a break." He decides, because it is always a good time for a coffee break. He makes his careful way towards the bar, for his favorite liquid treat.

(no subject)

[abyssum_invocat]

It's been a long while since Sinthia was in the bar for any length of time: normally she exists a little outside the main room, either upstairs or outdoors, or somewhere else that isn't so crowded.

Today she was presented with a slender box full of wooden pieces, which are ostensibly supposed to join together and make something. Or three somethings, more accurately; at first she just absently turns the not-yet cut sheets over and over in her fingers, studying the almost nonsensical laser cut lines.

Eventually, she'll have taken up a tabletop with these things, three tiny siege engines slowly coming together. Provide ammunition at your own risk.

[tiny tag of few words: sinthia schmidt]