[open] and i'll never need a lie

[willnotbemine]

Lena Austen lost her cross necklace a few hours ago. She doesn't think of herself as a materialistic person. The necklace means something to her. That's why she is crouched beside a bench in Grant Park, looking for said necklace in the grass. She must've dropped it there while she was running. Running from who? She'll never tell

Comments

:x :x

[literalfinesse]

Being the selfless person that she clearly is, Anya inspects her own feet before approaching John. If there's a shoe-stealing monster afoot, Anya wants to be elsewhere. No pun intended.

Once she's assured of her own footware, she steps over.

"Did you get mugged again?" she asks.

Hi of course works, if you're someone who isn't Anya. Sorry, John.

LMFAO /loves on you

[lefttogive]

John looks up at the sound of Anya's voice. He recognized it immediately. It would be difficult to forget a first meeting like the one he had with Anya. He gazes back down at his sock-clad foot, staring at it as if it has offended him greatly.

"If it isn't my shoe buddy. Hi, Anya." He scratches the back of his head, looking simultaneously boyish and guilty.

"I wasn't mugged this time. The Rift just decided I'm not meant to wear a shoe. It doesn't take away both. Only the one. I'm trying to figure out if there's a lesson here."

Not to mention, he's admittedly curious to how she'll answer.

:D :D /loves on more

[literalfinesse]

It would please Anya to know that she is unforgettable.

"Shoeless buddy, more accurately. Hello, John," Anya says, smiling back at him.

It's possible Anya looks a little nervous when John mentions it was the Rift's doing this time. However, she's managed to have a very shoe-stealing-free couple of months since her initial incident, so she doesn't worry too terribly. Besides, she is wearing boots instead of sandals. Much harder for the Rift to steal, she figures.

Anya's logic, it is a special creature.

"I suppose it's possible there's a lesson," Anya grants, tilting her head in consideration. "Although the Rift tends to work a bit more randomly. I'm told it has a sense of humor, but I've rarely found anything it does particularly funny."

There's a slight pause, and then she asks, "Angels don't get Rift powers, right? Yours could maybe be losing just the one shoe. Or keeping just the one, depending on which way you look at it."

Anya figures it's about as useful as a power as turning into a bunny, after all.

a;sldkfas /adores

[lefttogive]

Of course she is!

"... Yes, pardon my inaccuracy. The shoeless situation is a bit distressing." He grins up at her charmingly, the grin itself refusing to lend credence to the fact he may be remotely distressed. It's hard to faze John.

Losing one of his shoes every now and then just isn't going to cut it.

You hear that, Rift?

"If it has a sense of humor, it's the most twisted sense of humor I've ever seen. And I like to think I know my dark humor."

John isn't sure how he manages a straight face, but he does. "No. Well, it depends. There are angels from universes similar to this one that fall through the Rift. But I'm a native to this world so... no Rift powers aside from the usual angel-y ones."

He leans back against the bench. He's wearing socks, at least. "What brings you to the Park at this hour, Anya?"

[sophicsulphur]

Iris has indeed been bugging Phoebe to reinstate her advice column, so she's very tickled to come across this, just as she's heading back home lugging what is possibly the hugest pot of coffee in existence. It is all for her ward, and well, maybe a little bit for Lily, to keep her happy. She might have a small sack of sugar and coffee creamer slung over her shoulder too, just for the latter purpose.

She's even more tickled to see that Phoebe set up an actual, physical advice stall. She hadn't been expecting that.

"I see you took my advice," she says as she jogs over with the coffee, puffing a little. And maybe laughing a little, at her own not-joke. "...Hey, you know what this could use? A kind of little booth or something. With a curtain. So people could ask for advice in private. Hmm...."

...Now she's got one finger to her lips, the coffee pot set down temporarily on Phoebe's table, as she tries to figure out how she could construct such a thing.

[thehighestwing]

"Hey, just because I like to give advice doesn't mean I can't use advice myself every now and then. Especially when it's good advice." Her eyes crinkle once she's smiled over at Iris in amusement. Honestly, even without the prodding, Phoebe would have ended up doing something like this.

She loves talking to people. She loves making new friends.

And she loves helping. It isn't limited only to her own ward. Phoebe loves helping because she's a guardian and because she's Phoebe.

It's both in one and sometimes one in neither.

"Ooh! That's a good idea. I guess I could ask Jack about a booth. Also, hi, Iris!"

[sophicsulphur]

"...Yeah, maybe if you opened up one side of that giant cardboard box. And then put some kind of fabric over it... yeah, that'd work. And you could attach the fabric with, like, tacks or something...."

Clearly she's been thinking hard about this, in those intermittent moments.

"--and hi!" She grins right back. "...actually, do you mind terribly if I take a seat? I wouldn't mind the advice myself." She scruffs her already-windswept hair with a hand. "I'd help you out with the giving advice and all-- or maybe just listening, since I guess I'm not really an advice person, but I do think I'm a listener, well, I try to be, anyway-- maybe I could have a listening booth... well, like I said, I'd help you out, but I gotta get this coffee back home, sooner or later."

She's talking like she may be slightly high. She may, actually, be slightly high. Having a ward who's always high kind of makes one prone to that sort of problem.

[thehighestwing]

"I'm going to take notes of all this. The whole thing is, of course, a work-in-progress. Like all of me!" She does jot down some of the ideas, most importantly the fabric. She'd choose something bright and girly for it, naturally.

"I wouldn't mind at all! I had a lot of people come in at once, but I've had a break for the past ten minutes or so. What do you need advice on?" Phoebe asks, cupping her own cheek with a palm and leaning her elbow against the table.

"The coffee smells good. I never drink coffee, but it does smell good!"

It's a good thing Phoebe Donovan does not drink coffee. She gets enough energy via sugar rushes.

[thelightofgrace]

But Charlie wants to ask. He really does.

Charlie had been making his way home through Grant Park. Grant Park isn't exactly on his way home, but that isn't the point. He is in Grant Park. He is watching Lena, in a wedding dress, holding a gun on a giant bitch of a monster, and for a moment he almost wants to take a picture of the moment, just for posterity. He doesn't, though. Instead he just pulls out his personal side arm, and aims for the forehead of the beast, firing off a few shots until the thing dropped to the ground dead.

Then he turns back to Lena. "I hope that wasn't the groom."

[willnotbemine]

It's a woman's prerogative to keep her indiscretions to herself, Charlie Wellman.

Lena gives a small snort and walks over to the monster's corpse. A bride-to-be should probably not look so comfortable holding a gun or and dealing with monsters. Oh, well. Her cover was blown hours ago. "Now you know my dirty little secret. Ten-foot hairy dudes that want to make me their midnight snack are my one true weakness."

She releases a small sigh and goes to stand beside Charlie, surveying the monster guts spewed on the ground. "Till death do us part came too soon. Thanks for the back up, by the way."

[thelightofgrace]

Her prerogative it may be, but that may not stop him from at least asking.

He rolls his shoulders a bit -- it's been a while since he's had to fire a gun, and the kickback is still vibrating in his shoulders. He then glances over to her as she comes closer and gives her a smile.

"Anytime. I'm happy to help."

[willnotbemine]

He totally should.

"Careful, Charlie. I might take you up on that."

Lena gives him a small salute, glancing down at her dress seconds later. She makes a face once she spots the damage. There is no way she is fixing it to the point they'd take it back. The sleeve is torn, the hem is ripped in half, and there is dirt smudged all over the skirt of it.

"Pfft. Now I'm gonna have to pay for this poofy thing."

[theacheisleft]

Lucky Spencer has already had a few adventures in Chicago thanks to his very first adventure that got him mixed up with one, Lena Austen and consequently the crew at the Crowbar. He is feeling more alive and like himself than he has in over a year.

There is nothing at all that could have prepared him for seeing Lena in a wedding dress facing... Godzilla. He has to fight back the urge to shift into a fox, because he's worried and a little scared. IT'S GODZILLA. He thinks in this situation he's allowed to feel some fear. His adventures on this side of the Rift have yet to involve any actual monsters, and she is slow at getting that gun out thanks to the dress so he pulls out his.

He aims and fires, hitting the side of its neck.

Some of the guts from the monster fly off and... probably hit them both. He is wiping blood from his face as he runs to her side. "Not exactly the honeymoon I would have picked, but this isn't the first time we've disagreed." He almost smiles, aiming that gun at the monster again.

[willnotbemine]

She was supposed to meet him half an hour ago. At least now she can say she has a legitimate excuse for being late.

The dress is slowing her down, and the fact she keeps looking for the necklace quickly while she moves. Lena rips off the hemline, tearing off scraps of it until it's all but a mini-skirt. She was wearing combat boots underneath the dress. She's all class, clearly. She smirks back at him and brings herself back to her feet. "You're so picky. Not everyone can afford the Bahamas."

The guts splatter onto her chest and in the process, ruin the upper part of the wedding gown. "You always have to spill something on my dresses, don't you?"

Lena takes a step back and aims toward any vital organ she can get within shot range. While the shots slow it down, they also piss him off. "... Time to run."

[theacheisleft]

Pff, godzillas are not legitimate excuses... except where they completely are.

Lucky glances over at her at the sound of the ripping and tearing of the scraps of the dress off. He can't keep from smiling at the sight of those combat boots. Very classy. Very Lena to pull a David. "I know it's rare to expect to not be chased down by a giant dinosaur on your honeymoon, but I like the finer things in life."

He winces at the splatter. It was a... really nice gown before it got torn into bits and sprayed on by monster guts. "Always accidentally. I think this... must be a sign that you shouldn't wear dresses unless you want me to spill something on them."

Yeah, the fear of the giant monster mentioned earlier? It's gone up a notch or two when the monster gets pissed. "Running," he says as he takes off in the opposite direction, fighting that urge to turn into a fox again. He does not want more naked adventures.

[willnotbemine]

"Where's your sense of adventure, sweet pea?" Lena asks lightly, knocking over a trash can and grabbing a hold of the metal lid. The monster gets close enough she knocks his paw off by smashing the lid onto its fist. She finally catches sight of the necklace, silver glinting in between trodden leaves. "At least it'd be a honeymoon you'd never forget."

Lena dives over to catch it just before she starts sprinting.

"Or maybe it's a sign you need better aim," she says innocently, stopping in her tracks once she notices the dead end street. She looks both left and right, quick on her feet, opening up the dumpster. It is thankfully empty.

She lifts up the lid and motions for Lucky to come over. "Get your butt in here."

[gotbottle]

"No shit, right?"

Rachel was walking through the park when, poof, surprise tiny blonde. She's sympathetic to this kind of thing, having had the Rift screw her life over and send her to Reno (and that's before we even get into how it magically made her a car mechanic). So seeing someone get dumped bodily into the park makes her feel for them.

"You okay?" she asks Jo, stepping onto the grass.

[yourwonderings]

"Damn right." Her hands wipe themselves against the denim of her jeans, while keeping vigil to her surroundings. She was somewhere else only a second ago. That's annoying. And a little creepy.

"I think so," Jo answers, glancing up at her and flashing a faint smile. "Pissed it keeps pulling this kinda crap, but after a while, can't help but get used to it."

Jo curves a hand around her neck and blows out a breath. "What day is it today?"

[gotbottle]

"Saturday," Rachel offers helpfully.

And then it dawns on her, this is a rift. Only God knows--maybe--how long this woman's been sucked up in it.

"Saturday, the 11th. Of December. 2010."

Just in case.

"And I'm Rachel," she finishes. "Sorry. Rifts suck, man."

[yourwonderings]

"You're shitting me." Jo's eyes widen a little. "That's a whole week I skipped. The fuck."

We promise Jo doesn't curse this often, Rachel. Maybe.

Jo lets out a humorless laugh and shakes her head. She shrugs her leather jacket back on and surveys the park with open disdain. "I've had almost a year worth of experience."

And then to Rachel: "I'm Jo Harvelle. You look like you've had experience with them yourself."