#opulencestarter

[asa-hollandseabrooke]

Where: Opulence Public Library Status: Open!

Much could be inferred about the rather small and unsettling man who ran the public library of Opulence. It's common knowledge at this point that he's at least a century old. The tattoos on his body alone look faded to the point of being akin to hieroglyphs, then inked over again at some point, and again. Like cave paintings on old marble. Perhaps it's the way he talks, a bit antiquated and with the air of an Irish gentleman from a time long past. But mostly it's the eyes- a bit too focused, a little bit haunted. Intense in a quiet way that many find uncomfortable.

But Asa works diligently, and the library has seen great success since he's taken over. Book clubs, study groups, and young writers guilds meet to discuss their thoughts and ideas. And Asa skulks the aisles with his cart of books, sliding them into the correct spot. Today he's a bit understaffed, and he works the front, staring at an old computer that he hardly remembers how to use. "The Dewey decimal system has always worked so well... I still don't quite understand this thing." He points out. It doesn't help that the computer's just like him- a fossil. "Would it be... incredibly terrible of me to revert the entire system back to paper and text? I think my employees might bludgeon me to death with an encyclopedia if I even unplugged this thing."

[jeremybeacom]

Location: Bolt's Auto With: Open

Jeremy usually didn't work alone. Usually there was at least one other person in the auto shop, someone to deal with customers when they came in and all Jeremy had to do was quietly work on their car, bury his head under the hood of the car or slide beneath it for routine oil changes and tire rotations. So when he stepped out from around the 2010 Honda Civic that had been brought in for just those purposes and came face to face with a stranger, the werewolf stopped in his tracks like a deer in headlights, oil covered rag held loosely in his fingers, paused mid-action of wiping the grime away.

His gaze swept away from the person in front of him, body tilting somewhat to one side and then the other, peering around them to see if he could locate one of his coworkers and packmates hopefully lingering around but unfortunately for him, none were in sight and his stomach dropped. Jeremy cast his gaze back to the person, finished wiping his hands and stuffed a corner of the rag into the back pocket of his stained jeans, crossed his arms over his chest and waited. He never spoke first.

[opheliasflood]

the curfew had presented a unique problem for the more evening businesses of opulence, forcing them to open in daylight hours and close as the early evening set in. some stayed open afterwards, of course, secretly for people that simply didn't want to abide, despite the threat of monsters. one of the few leaving just before the curfew was ophelia, dress short and heels high, stumbling up the steps, heavy bass following her as the doors to the club opened and closed with others filing out. many left enough time to get home, or wherever they were going - ophelia had left because she was thoroughly pissed and didn't want to go home in the dark. she tripped, nearly falling, could've broke her ankle but someone managed to stop herself from colliding with the floor by instead colliding into a person. another partygoer? a random passerby?

the blonde looked at her saviour, eyes unfocused as she declared; "thankyou," before doubling over and vomiting on their shoes.

[ash-blythee]

Location: The Fable Status: Open

It's a night for celebration - at least in Val's mind. Because any evening is, if he manages to get out of his nice flat, put on real clothes, and sit somewhere where he can order a stiff drink. Sometimes it's easier to pop the cork on a bottle of wine and waste the day away on the sofa at home. But today he has shoes on. So that's something.

Val's hair is its normal mess, and their clothes are their normal mix of bohemian extravagance and 'odd queer sibling we don't bring up at the family reunion'. Shirt a bit big and open a little too low, jewelry that they enjoy tangling their own fingers in. Jeans that are just a bit tight. "I think... this isn't my drink." Val says after swallowing the taste in their mouth. Unfocused eyes are thoughtful, matching taste to memory. "Did I grab yours by mistake? Shit, love, what on earth did you order? Tastes like..." They make a face, not able to feign politeness as they cough.

[zebulon-carlisle]

Where: Anywhere you want Who: OPEN Glancing down at the alarm on his phone, he sighed as he swiped the screen to make the phone stop vibrating. Shifting his chair to look at his desk calendar, he started to question why he made the lunch arrangement in the first place given his workload…well the workload he places upon himself.  Mark pondered whether he could get a few more items done before he headed out, it just take him a few minutes.  Of course, those few minutes turned into a half an hour and he was now running late.

As he grabbed his few belongings, he text his friend that he was going to be a few minutes late.  A common occurrence when it came to having any kind of relation with Mark. Thankfully, the destination was only a few blocks away from The Vault and he managed to get there only fifteen minutes late, which had to be a record given he usually had people wait longer.  Glancing around, he saw his friend at one of the tables and gave a slight wave as he walked over.  “I know, I know late again I am sorry.”  He greeted the other person as he sat down.  “There is no excuse, besides I am terrible.  Anyway, how are you?  I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

[fionnchristie]

for: open location: wolf & webb's

"Yeah, so," he leaned on the counter with a sheepish grin. "Welcome to Wolf & Webb's, the coffee machine's broken, we can't do anything espresso based or anything that involves steaming milk. But other than that," Fionn continued, somewhat dejectedly, "can I take your order?"

[the--helen]

LOCATION: Soop neighborhood, close to the hospital STATUS: closed

Helen had been feeling both happy and sad the past few days. Every since finding herself in the new apartment she had been ecstatic to live in a place where light could come through in the rooms outside of the bedroom, having previously been enclosed in a basement apartment where all was one room and all windows were painted over. She could see woods from the small window of the bathroom at the back of the building and what seemed like a hospital’s sign at the front. She enjoyed being able to walk outside in the day and be trusted enough to do so, which was such a lovely change it made her heart swell with... love.

But she was also sad, because she was unsure as to where exactly she was, a phone not something she had access to in recent times, so she couldn’t log online or even try to call her mom. Being closer to nature she started missing her mother, but this was quickly forgotten as a key was placed in her hand close to dusk. Alexander gave her a kiss on the cheek and announced he will go outside, meeting old friends she was not presentable enough now to meet. She smiled without any protest. “I will go buy us coffee and walk for an hour... and come home” she promised, checking her watch, before walking in the opposite direction of him and letting her eyes wander around, enjoying the fresh air. The sun had gone down on queue as they had walked outside. 

Her gaze had frozen on a strange shop which looked as if it were selling various herbs and items. She wondered if she could name the plants but most seemed foreign and her muddled mined was only more confused. She hadn’t realized how long she had stood there until she felt a gaze on herself and her initial thought was that there was a person behind the glass on the inside that was judging her lingering. She felt some color filling her cheeks and erasing the pale complexion she had since meeting Alexander. 

She pushed hands to her sides, pulling her T-shirt, a few sizes too big, down and holding onto it with white knuckles as she wondered where to she could go. Looking down at her hand, still holding onto the fabric, she glanced at the wristwatch and saw she had wasted twenty minutes on this. A frown crept on her brow and she pursed her lips, walking faster. In fact, so fast and while looking around for a possible shop, that her shoulder hit with too strong a force someone else’s body as she was walking past them. A rain of sorrys poured out of her lips as she felt her heart slow to almost a dead crawl before speeding up and flying too fast. 

“I’m so sorry, sorry. I was looking to the side and didn’t see you.“, she said, afraid of the reaction, too used to a quick temper and the possibility of a bruise upon a mistake. 

[natsuki-inokata]

Location: Farmer's Market at Town Center With: Open

Buying fresh and local produce was something Natsuki did every Sunday to restock for her restaurant and to get ideas for new menu items and specials based on what was in season. She was a very tactile person and took great joy in knowing exactly where everything came from, how it was grown, what it felt like in her hands, the smell, the texture, the taste and even enjoyed hearing about the lives of the people who grew them and so would spend hours if not a full day going through every stall until she had developed quite a connection with many of the individuals selling their grown goods.

It was in this way they often ended up giving her extra gifts. This one in particular had given her a box of assorted mini bundt cakes despite all her efforts to politely decline because what was she meant to do with a box of twelve mini bundt cakes but in the end she walked away with it while she sighed. "Oh, excuse me," she spoke up to a passerby but they only ignored her and carried on walking because she had spoken to softly they likely hadn't even heard her. Natsuki felt her cheeks warm. She tried again with someone else, "Excuse me," but this too was met with failure, the couple of people too engrossed in each other to notice her. Much louder now, "Excuse me," and before she could be ignored a third time she had already begun to shove the box of bundt cakes out toward this newly approached person, "Would you like some free bundt cakes?"