I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
Who: Valdi, Other people (OPEENNNN)
Where: The Coffee Shoppe
When: Wednesday 20th July, 3.30pm onward
What: Something's happened to Liberty, and Valdi is determined to find out what.
He'd blogged the message as a simple instruction from his phone:
If anyone wants to help stop whatever's happened to Liberty, meet at The Coffee Shoppe at 4.
Don't bother if you think it's normal.
Valdi knew a lot of Liberty's citizens thought it was just some sick joke, and would be more than ready to start pointing fingers and suggesting names, but he only knew of one person who was even remotely capable of turning his whole bedroom into an ocean and Sindre was on his side.
So either Liberty was cursed, or there was someone else who had that sort of capability - his mind briefly made a tangent to Nicoleta's mention of Black magic- and they were set on playing voodoo with the whole town. Didn't Sindre also mention knowing someone?
Valdi made his way over to the cafe at 3.30pm, entirely composed and prepared for no one to turn up. After all, not only had it been terribly short notice, but he also doubted many who saw his blog would be ready to jump on the superstitions of a 20-year-old boy who was convinced that magic was real.
The Icelander had his reasons, of course: he'd seen Sindre use it; he'd witnessed the existence of nisse, trolls and charms scattered through their apartment (not to mention Gollum), and there was a fucking whale in his bedroom.
The recollection of the whale caused another tangent and he absent-mindedly sent a text to Sindre:
If we fix everything the whale will disappear, right? We should've had that first.
Unfortunately Valdi couldn't prove any of this was real without ruining their reputation and possibly having both him and his brother locked away for good in an asylum, so 'superstitions' would have to do.
Where: The Coffee Shoppe
When: Wednesday 20th July, 3.30pm onward
What: Something's happened to Liberty, and Valdi is determined to find out what.
He'd blogged the message as a simple instruction from his phone:
If anyone wants to help stop whatever's happened to Liberty, meet at The Coffee Shoppe at 4.
Don't bother if you think it's normal.
Valdi knew a lot of Liberty's citizens thought it was just some sick joke, and would be more than ready to start pointing fingers and suggesting names, but he only knew of one person who was even remotely capable of turning his whole bedroom into an ocean and Sindre was on his side.
So either Liberty was cursed, or there was someone else who had that sort of capability - his mind briefly made a tangent to Nicoleta's mention of Black magic- and they were set on playing voodoo with the whole town. Didn't Sindre also mention knowing someone?
Valdi made his way over to the cafe at 3.30pm, entirely composed and prepared for no one to turn up. After all, not only had it been terribly short notice, but he also doubted many who saw his blog would be ready to jump on the superstitions of a 20-year-old boy who was convinced that magic was real.
The Icelander had his reasons, of course: he'd seen Sindre use it; he'd witnessed the existence of nisse, trolls and charms scattered through their apartment (not to mention Gollum), and there was a fucking whale in his bedroom.
The recollection of the whale caused another tangent and he absent-mindedly sent a text to Sindre:
If we fix everything the whale will disappear, right? We should've had that first.
Unfortunately Valdi couldn't prove any of this was real without ruining their reputation and possibly having both him and his brother locked away for good in an asylum, so 'superstitions' would have to do.