Well He's Out All Night to Collect a Fare
Who: Open to Everybody! Mingle with the other programs and users!
Where: The End of Line Club
When: The Present
Warnings: I have no idea IT ALL DEPENDS ON YOU FOLK.
(OOC: SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE LATELY. IT'S BEEN A RATHER HECTIC JUNE/EARLY JULY. PLEASE TAKE THIS AS A TOKEN OF MY APOLOGY AND I PROMISE TO BE MORE ACTIVE D8 I LOVE YOU GUYS. Two EOL threads in the same day dohohoh oh man I always write a novel for these posts NOT SURE WHY.)
Castor's late coming to his bar tonight, but he's always trusted it in the hands of his capable staff. Without so much as a concerned glance in it's direction he trusts it to run like the well-oiled machine it's become. He's had errands tonight - Zuse needed to make an appearance; dawning the old, polygonal skin of his former life is harder anything to scoff at. Zuse looks like a different man entirely -- perhaps Castor's black-haired brother, if Castor knew what a sibling was. Few know even now he's been "reincarnated," having merely made exceptions for a small handful to see and speak as Zuse in Castor's clothing; Sam Flynn was one of the few to get away with that knowledge.
But when he returns to the club he's the icey pale bartender, and the uglier errand tended to is lost to the winds. Zuse was, Castor is, and these are his people. This is the present and he's come to relish in the deep rumble of music and the pride in treating the scores of hard-working programs night after night.
His hair is slicked back, and there's a particular skip to his step as he settles into the elevator car. His hands are folded over his cane when the doors slide shut, swaying in an easy side-to-side when the music hits his ears. His grin comes easily, though he's sure he's in the best mood he's been in in a long time.
When the doors re-open he's with his programs, on the busy precipice of his small frontier; his only little piece of the city. He smiles lavishly as he steps inside with a broad twirl of his cane, nodding at the regulars and giving a knowing wink to his staff. He looks upon the patrons with a fond sense of possessiveness. When they are here they are his, and business has been nothing short of amazing lately. He'll ride it as long as he can.
Where: The End of Line Club
When: The Present
Warnings: I have no idea IT ALL DEPENDS ON YOU FOLK.
(OOC: SORRY FOR MY ABSENCE LATELY. IT'S BEEN A RATHER HECTIC JUNE/EARLY JULY. PLEASE TAKE THIS AS A TOKEN OF MY APOLOGY AND I PROMISE TO BE MORE ACTIVE D8 I LOVE YOU GUYS. Two EOL threads in the same day dohohoh oh man I always write a novel for these posts NOT SURE WHY.)
Castor's late coming to his bar tonight, but he's always trusted it in the hands of his capable staff. Without so much as a concerned glance in it's direction he trusts it to run like the well-oiled machine it's become. He's had errands tonight - Zuse needed to make an appearance; dawning the old, polygonal skin of his former life is harder anything to scoff at. Zuse looks like a different man entirely -- perhaps Castor's black-haired brother, if Castor knew what a sibling was. Few know even now he's been "reincarnated," having merely made exceptions for a small handful to see and speak as Zuse in Castor's clothing; Sam Flynn was one of the few to get away with that knowledge.
But when he returns to the club he's the icey pale bartender, and the uglier errand tended to is lost to the winds. Zuse was, Castor is, and these are his people. This is the present and he's come to relish in the deep rumble of music and the pride in treating the scores of hard-working programs night after night.
His hair is slicked back, and there's a particular skip to his step as he settles into the elevator car. His hands are folded over his cane when the doors slide shut, swaying in an easy side-to-side when the music hits his ears. His grin comes easily, though he's sure he's in the best mood he's been in in a long time.
When the doors re-open he's with his programs, on the busy precipice of his small frontier; his only little piece of the city. He smiles lavishly as he steps inside with a broad twirl of his cane, nodding at the regulars and giving a knowing wink to his staff. He looks upon the patrons with a fond sense of possessiveness. When they are here they are his, and business has been nothing short of amazing lately. He'll ride it as long as he can.