un squelette dans ton plaquard, un fantome dans ton salon
WHO: his_instrument and afeatherpillow, with guest star namesnotjack for a few tags at the beginning.
WHERE: Nigel and Alex's brownstone
WHEN: Morning of Jan. 21
WARNINGS: Probably none but updated as needed.
SUMMARY: Katurian shows up, probably miserably, on Nigel's front porch.
FORMAT: Para-intro then choose your poison, ladies.
Alex is used to living life on a schedule. They were more diligent about punctuality and early mornings then anyone ever seems to be here. Technically, Alex starts his shift at the shop at 9:00 most days, but he's found that his boss will do and say little about it even if he wanders in half an hour late.
So this morning, like most mornings, Alex is taking his time as he goes about the last of his morning routine. He has finished his breakfast, left the dishes in the sink for whenever Nigel gets to them, and settled down in one of the kitchen chairs to pull on his shoes. He's grateful -- in as much as Alex Forbes can ever feel gratitude -- for the small noises in the house. They're not enough to be irritating, but it's not nearly as maddening as the complete silence that prevailed for most of the week when Nigel was dead.
He finishes tying his left shoe and starts in on the right.
WHERE: Nigel and Alex's brownstone
WHEN: Morning of Jan. 21
WARNINGS: Probably none but updated as needed.
SUMMARY: Katurian shows up, probably miserably, on Nigel's front porch.
FORMAT: Para-intro then choose your poison, ladies.
Alex is used to living life on a schedule. They were more diligent about punctuality and early mornings then anyone ever seems to be here. Technically, Alex starts his shift at the shop at 9:00 most days, but he's found that his boss will do and say little about it even if he wanders in half an hour late.
So this morning, like most mornings, Alex is taking his time as he goes about the last of his morning routine. He has finished his breakfast, left the dishes in the sink for whenever Nigel gets to them, and settled down in one of the kitchen chairs to pull on his shoes. He's grateful -- in as much as Alex Forbes can ever feel gratitude -- for the small noises in the house. They're not enough to be irritating, but it's not nearly as maddening as the complete silence that prevailed for most of the week when Nigel was dead.
He finishes tying his left shoe and starts in on the right.