how to wrap a cat [OPEN]

[charismatic]

Who: Will and ~*you*~
What: Running errands, doing inadvisable things at work, drinking, dancing, etc.
Where: He works out in Serpolet and lives in Mog Hill but wherever works. Just specify a time/place when you tag in.
When: All this week and bits of last week.
Notes: IF YOU WANT TO WORK OUT SOMETHING MORE SPECIFIC/A DIRECTION/WEVS, just poke me on plurk or something. Be prepared for a lot of unnecessary capslock. Also, there is no cat, I was just watching this video.
Warnings: None as yet!

He's starting to settle in, as much as anyone can settle in, here. He's got a job he enjoys and an apartment he doesn't mind and maybe a couple friends. Will figures he's doing reasonably well for himself. Everyone knows him down at Tinker's Lot now, his neighbors don't bother him, and he's starting to piece together his favorite places to go to blow off steam.

So he learns the train routes and schedules, he goes shopping occasionally, and he gets used to mundane things like carrying a messenger bag and having hard currency. Nothing seems too jarring when everything is wrong, and Will's adaptable. If he focuses on the immediate problems of livability and keeps himself reasonably occupied, he's fine. Things start to look familiar.

He doesn't so much ignore the tension underneath as set it aside, put it away for later. There's not much he can do about it now, and he's a practical soul. If he wants to get to a place where he can, he needs to have his feet firmly under him and a clear head. Hitting up dance clubs doesn't always help with that, but a guy's allowed his vices, right?

Comments

22nd or so, a Mog Hill bar, locked to Jim Kirk

[charismatic]

Will does end up finishing early. After a quick text exchange on the train, he makes a pit stop at home and shows up at the bar freshly bathed and changed, stolen wallet in tow. He picks out the guy he talked to yesterday pretty quickly, and drops down next to him without preamble. “Is this the part where I ask for an ID?” he says, smiling. Hahah, I have your wallet and also probably your ID. It's not the best joke, but it'll have to do.

[captaincocksure]

Jim turns and, after a moment's inspection of the newcomer's face, grins in recognition. "Actually, I think I ask for ID. Ask that you compare me with what you found," he replies. He offers his hand, and goes on, "Jim Kirk. Thanks for meeting me. And for being honest about my wallet."

[charismatic]

“No problem,” Will says, reaching over to shake Jim's hand. He does check the ID against his face – he'd done that after their video chat earlier but it doesn't hurt to double check – before he hands it over. “I'm Will, by the way,” he says, putting his elbows on the table. “I think I managed to not introduce myself when I sent the thing out.”

[captaincocksure]

Jim shrugs, tucking the wallet away with an easy smile. "Thanks. And don't worry about it--I didn't exactly ask."

He waves to get a bartender's attention. "I have to confess, it's the second time I've lost it. The first time it turned up at work, lucky for me. I'm not used to carrying them."

[charismatic]

Will shakes his head, perking up slightly. It's a pretty mundane thing, but it's still nice to find someone with the same woe. “I'm not either,” he says, pausing to order his drink when the bartender gets over there. “I don't carry one at home because everything is electronic.”

[captaincocksure]

Jim's face lights up, too, glad that someone else understands. "Yeah. Yeah, exactly. Where I'm from everything's computerized, across the galaxy. You don't have to carry anything."

[charismatic]

“Yeah, exactly,” Will says and then pauses, smile spreading. “Galaxy, huh?”

Mog Hill, a bar of your choosing, evening?

[toooldforlosing]

If Will frequents bars in Mog Hill, it's really inevitable that he'll eventually run into Raylan in one of them (though not so much clubs - Raylan sticks to proper bars, usually with wood, where a man can have a reasonably quiet glass of whiskey).

Will probably notices him first - the hat is kind of hard to miss.

[charismatic]

He does – and after a moment, Will smiles and heads over, folding himself onto the adjacent stool. “Hey there,” he says, and if they knew each other better, he'd be more familiar, might even take a friendly swipe at that hat, but not now. “Had any good fried chicken lately?”

[toooldforlosing]

"Hey." He tips his head back. "Nah, not really. Girl who made the best fried chicken I ever had didn't get sucked into this place, far as I know, everything else is a pale imitation. How'd you manage with the fruit?"

[charismatic]

“Surprisingly well!” Will says. “I ate them for breakfast.” That lead to some interesting mornings – nothing was bad but some were definitely unexpected. “I actually have my own place now so I have a refrigeration unit and everything.” Not that he's really all that clear on what should and shouldn't be stored cold. He just kind of shoves everything in there and hopes it'll be okay. “Maybe I should try making a list or something.”

[toooldforlosing]

"Yeah, I had a lot of trial and error when I started. You'll get the hang of it." Of all the things he hates about Baedal, the food is far down the list.

[charismatic]

“Yeah,” Will says. “It's actually one of the least weird things around here. Alcohol's pretty much the same, too.” That reminds him to wave the bartender over.

@Tinker's Lot?

[controlledvariable]

Steph has finally made some time to check out Tinker's Lot, the only problem is that... it's Tinker's Lot and she's just been sort of wandering around and poking at the things which look least likely to explode in her face. Because Steph is not the kind to waste her time being confused as soon as someone walks past she kind of just bounds in front of them. Hi, Will.

"You wouldn't happen to have a few free minutes, would you?" She's all smiles and optimism, hoping he won't tell her to fuck off.

[charismatic]

At this point, Will has probably spent at least 50% of his downtime at Tinker's Lot helping people find their way around. He doesn't really mind, though. He's got the hang of the place now, but it's pretty overwhelming at first.

“Hey,” he says. “Sure. What do you need?”

[controlledvariable]

"Thanks," she gives the biggest of smiles! "I want to start a project, but I don't wanna like... accidentally steal anyone else's stuff."

It's all kind of mashed together and while some spots are obviously marked out, Steph really doesn't need anyone angry at her. She gets that enough when she's Batgirl.

[charismatic]

“Well if you just need spare parts you're probably safe digging up anything that isn't marked out,” Will says. “No one leaves anything they actually want on the outside.” He gestures at the nearest heap. “If you're looking for something specific or something valuable you'll probably want to find one of the vendors, though.”

[controlledvariable]

"Right, thanks," she looks over at the heap, it's a mess, and it might be easier to go to a vendor, but... "I don't really have the cash to buy anything off a vendor, I think I'll be sticking to looking myself for now. I might as well do something useful with my free time."

[charismatic]

That's reasonable. Some people around here have pretty low prices for the basics, but money is definitely an issue, especially for newer folks. “I'm heading over toward an area with more unclaimed space, if you want to tag along,” he says. “You'll probably have an easier time finding something usable out there.” The sites off the main thoroughfares tend to be pretty well picked-over.

[wingwalker]

Xas wandered in on accident about two hours ago, saw a half-built zeppelin, and forgot to leave: nothing in the lot is actually flying, but plenty of things look like they could, or at least like someone who doesn't understand basic physics wants them to.

When the coast is clear, he tries jumping up on one of them to see how its filmy wings could possibly support its weight, but he can't figure it out and sits down on it in frustration, scowling at the closed cockpit he isn't quite imprudent enough to break into. This is making him feel more out of his depth as anything else has so far. He didn't understand everything at home, but he understood flight.

[charismatic]

It doesn't actually fly, unfortunately. Not for more than a couple seconds. It didn't crash or explode, though, so it's ahead of plenty of things Will's tried out up here. He's really only coming back to snap a picture, since he'd forgotten to earlier (the thing doesn't have an engine at all, so far as he can tell), but the person sitting on top of it gives him a pause.

“Hey,” he says. “Are you lost?”

[wingwalker]

"No," Xas says, peering down at him. It's half a lie; he doesn't know where he is, but he's not trying to go anywhere, either, so it doesn't matter. He'll make it back to the Inn eventually. Definitely before his time is up and they throw out his belongings or something.

He pats the pod beneath him and tilts his head at the man, frustration easing off his face. "Does this fly?"

[charismatic]

“Nope,” Will says, bringing a hand up to shade his eyes so he can see him up there better. It's bright out today. “It kind of hovers for a little bit and then it quits.” It's not that unusual to have curious people hanging out around sites, really. Will's not really clear if he's supposed to tell anyone anything, most of the time, but he hasn't gotten in trouble yet.

[wingwalker]

Xas hums quietly and considers the machine for another few moments. That's comforting, actually. It doesn't look like it should fly. "Do you have anything that does?" he asks.

[charismatic]

“I don't have any of them,” Will says, slightly bemused. “People around here are making plenty of stuff that's supposed to fly, though.”