mirror mirror, on the wall, what do you give someone who has it all?

[scorchtheground]

Hiroto is bored. He's spent awhile, a week or so, learning the ins and outs of this Chicago place, and so far what he's learning is that he doesn't like it much. Too many rules, not enough outs for when he breaks them. And as far as he can tell, his family isn't nearly as powerful here as they were back home, which means he can't just go back to

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[nothingsodivine]

Des doesn't usually ride the L train, but these days it's very hard to go out walking without tripping over areas blocked by orange tape, so it's just more productive to take the damn train when he doesn't feel like driving.

He is greeted to a collection of marker drawings as he enters the train and that's puzzling in itself. Extremely industrious child? Or is it....

A BABEL.

Des slides into the section just in front of Babel's little hidey hole and pokes her a few times in the shoulder. "The Art Institute of Chicago thanks you for your efforts," he teases.

[allmydiredreams]

Babel furiously finishes scribbling when he pokes her, glancing up with a little grin for a second just to let him know she's not ignoring him and then going right back to drawing. It's a fairly good sketch, really, of someone sitting in a coffeeshop with a giant plate of pie and probably the largest mocha ever; there's a sign next to them that reads 'explosion free forever' on the shop's door. Hey, you take your happy where you can get it, in Chicago

[nothingsodivine]

Des folds his arms over the seat and rests his chin on them, still leaning over so he can see what she's drawing. "Artists are always broke, so they should get used to poverty. It's about the art, not the cash."

And that might be one of the most cheerfully cynical things anyone has ever said. Of course, to Des it's not cynicism- it's a harsh part of reality that might as well be pointed out.

He accepts the drawing and holds it up to the light from the window, considering it Very Srsly before handing it back with a toothy smile. "I'd save it for the coffee shop. Maybe it'll bring them good luck. ...They need it."

Oh, how they need it.

[allmydiredreams]

"Tell that to the universities," Babel says, but she doesn't sound all that terribly bothered by it either. Now that he's put the idea in her head, she might just do it for something to do. One class can't be all that much, right, and she's got that waitressing job. And doesn't need to pay rent. Not that she works all that much, though.

She takes the drawing, tucking it into her notebook with an equally toothy smile. And then puts the pile of paper and notebook on the seat next to her, where all her markers were, and gets up to give Des a hug. "Haven't seen you in forever!" she chirps. "I see your house more than you!"

[ornobodywill]

Mac hears the knocking from the kitchen and, at first, subscribes to the someone else will get it mentality, because, hell, it's not like they don't have people watching the doors all the time. Unfortunately, no one else moves to get it, clearly having the same mentality, and Mac is forced to go investigate, a bologna sandwich dangling out of her mouth and dripping condiments of dubious identity on the floor.

AND LO, THERE WAS A HUCK.

Lake Kashtta has been mostly swept away, but the holes in the floor haven't been dealt with, so Mac practically flies down the stairs, meanders around the holes in the floor and unlocks the door.

Only then does she spit out the sandwich. "Huck! Nice to see you survived the plagues!" She would hug her, but Mac doesn't really hug. Also, there is a sandwich which Mac is going to continue nomming now that she's greeted the girl.

[callinallfreaks]

Huck darts inside as soon as Mac opens the door. It's cold, and she left her jacket at the hotel. Also her journal, or she might have just written a note to J and Mac and whoever else, but as it is, well, it wasn't in her backpack that morning.

"Yeh," she says, scratching her head and looking dubiously around at the ruined lobby. "Barely. Din't quite make it to this place before th'firstborn shit." She's not sure what to make of all the holes. "Can't find Paulie." She sounds a lot more subdued than usual. More serious than she might be greeting Mac, of all people.

She's not sure who she's supposed to ask about staying here. She's not really sure if she wants to ask Mac, or tell her what happened with the door. "Y'din't tell Jason I was a squirrel, didja?" she asks in lieu of asking important things.

[ornobodywill]

And that's worrisome. Both Huck's subdued nature and the fact that one of her pack is missing. Rather than comment on that, because this is clearly a conversation where everyone avoids saying what needs to be said, Mac holds up a hand, "Your squirrelly secret is safe with me."

She drops her hand back to her side and quirks an eyebrow. "This whole thing got you tense or something?" Because there's clearly something wrong and she can't go forever, avoiding the subject.

[callinallfreaks]

Huck smiles at her. "Sweet," she says. "I c'n still throw shit at 'is head'n'he won't know's me." Of have a squirrely divebombfest. Hey, she does it to Jon all the time, even though he knows it's her. Nothing like a good squirrel-to-the-head from the shower curtain rod to make her feel better about being a squirrel.

The smile drops off, though, when Mac asks, and Huck shrugs. "I guess," she says. There's a long pause, and then she sighs, still staring down at one of the holes in the lobby. "We got kicked outta th'hotel. What th'fuck happened t'this place?"

Maybe the rapid subject switch will divert Mac's attention. Maybe.

[omnomnomface]

Trin has finally wandered back to the Gauche, and after sleeping for lord only knows how long, she's woken up kind of very hungover. And the music isn't helping any.

She's stumbled down to the training rooms and is just shouting at the top of her lungs. "HEY!!! HEEEEEEY! SOME OF US ARE DRUNK. WELL. SOME OF US WERE DRUNK AND WISH THAT WE COULD BE DRUNK AGAIN! SHUT UP. SHUT UPPPP!"

She could very possibly be talking to Hiroto. She could also just be screaming at the world at large. It's hard to tell with Trin.

[scorchtheground]

Hiroto is momentarily distracted, so when the first of his recently-retrieved knives hits the wall, the music doesn't change. Someday he'll get things set up in his brain so that the music thing is unconscious, he figures, but so far it still takes some concentration and...really, where the hell was she sleeping that she could hear this music from there? He wasn't under the impression the basement carried sound that well.

The next knife goes flying by her face and into the wall next to her. "No," Hiroto says, turning the music down slightly so she can hear him. "I'm practicing. You calm down."

Because if she doesn't, she's getting the Hiroto-patented You Shut Up Time headjab.