come with me, go places
Metis has finally made his way to the Main Gauche, though now he's just standing outside, peering up at the complex with raised eyebrows. It's much more of a fortress than he was imagining.
The cat carrier at his feet is making very, very unpleasant noises.
Bean is finally getting back into the swing of things. Most of her memories have come back, enough so that her parents--who have been freaking out and doting on her for the past month, which has been incredibly frustrating--have finally let her out of the house. Bean is sitting cross-legged in the grass at Grant Park, Potato curled up nearby and a shopping bag at her side. She's stringing beads onto lengths of woven embroidery thread, friendship bracelet style. Anyone nearby with psychic abilities or magic sense might notice that the air around her almost seems charged. Bean herself is looking very focused on her task, more focused than she does for anything except drawing.
Elsewhere in Grant Park, Ace is looking like the cat that caught the canary as she rides her brand-spanking-new skateboard around, doing kickflips and heelflips and ollies at every opportunity. All of which may or may not be illegal in Grant Park.
Less than half a block west of Grant Park, Soul Eater is sitting outside the Jazz Institute of Chicago, his back to the wall and his eyes closed as he listens to someone inside play an incredible jazz piano piece.
The cat carrier at his feet is making very, very unpleasant noises.
Bean is finally getting back into the swing of things. Most of her memories have come back, enough so that her parents--who have been freaking out and doting on her for the past month, which has been incredibly frustrating--have finally let her out of the house. Bean is sitting cross-legged in the grass at Grant Park, Potato curled up nearby and a shopping bag at her side. She's stringing beads onto lengths of woven embroidery thread, friendship bracelet style. Anyone nearby with psychic abilities or magic sense might notice that the air around her almost seems charged. Bean herself is looking very focused on her task, more focused than she does for anything except drawing.
Elsewhere in Grant Park, Ace is looking like the cat that caught the canary as she rides her brand-spanking-new skateboard around, doing kickflips and heelflips and ollies at every opportunity. All of which may or may not be illegal in Grant Park.
Less than half a block west of Grant Park, Soul Eater is sitting outside the Jazz Institute of Chicago, his back to the wall and his eyes closed as he listens to someone inside play an incredible jazz piano piece.