#qrpgstarter

[alainaeisler]

Beside the parking lot of her building, the city had planted a row of stunted trees, that managed some hazy shade where two shadows met. Alaina had dragged her bike up onto the grass, and sacrificed an old tablecloth so she wouldn’t lose the pieces in the grass as she pulled it’s engine apart.

All her hair tied into a knot on top of her head so none of it would be touching her skin, she’d stripped down to the smallest shorts she owned and what was barely a tank-top, but the air was thick and humid, and there was no relief of a breeze. It felt like weeks since the temperature had broken, and Alaina wasn’t sure she had slept in that time. the heat in her apartment made it impossible to rest, even at night, and the A/C unit in her window whined when it got too hot. Some nights she couldn’t decide if the noise or the heat was worse.

“I’m not taking the fucking subway,” Alaina muttered, bent forward trying to connect a line without disassembling it further. The bike had been new when she’d bought it, but that had been some time in the early 60′s and even without the time she’d ‘lost’, she’d riden it a decade or more. Working on a farm, Alaina had learned a lot about fixing motors but that hadn’t been prepared her to care for a bike that was now an antique. The tube she’d been trying to gently feed into it’s port slipped from her fingers, and Alaina paused, taking a long slow breath.

Teeth grit, she reached out with her hand and grabbing the first tool her fingers brushed, threw it as hard as she could at the nearest tree. The moment the wrench left her hand, Alaina regretted throwing it, but it struck the trunk with a heavy whack, and then spun out towards the parking lot, skidding across the asphalt to rest just in front of someone’s feet. Alaina sighed, then slowly stood.

“Hey, toss that here,” she called towards the person, nodding at the wrench and holding her hand out for them to throw it back to her.

[fritz-bukowski]

The diner was always open, but for an hour every night, there always seemed to be a sort of stillness. People still remained, ordered, ate and drank, but to Fritz, it felt surreal, like he was traveling through time again. He wasn’t exercising his abilities, but it never failed to feel like he was once again in a space between realms or realities, and when he looked at the clock, it would be in a different space.

He knew it was all in his head, but that didn’t stop his frown from etching itself deeply onto his sharp features. His few customers taken care of for the moment, Fritz stood behind the counter, a dog-eared paperback mystery in his hand, even as his attention lay elsewhere. And by elsewhere, Fritz was staring at the opposite wall. It could be taken as daydreaming were his eyes not flickering to the clock every now and then.

Near the end of his self-imposed spaciness, something unusual happened - someone came into the diner. The jingle of the bell alerted Fritz to the newcomer, and when he looked over, the usual automatic greeting took a few moments to actually leave his lips, and only after a few verbal starts and stop’s.

“Welcome to Patsy’s; take a seat wherever you like. Have a fresh pot of coffee brewing if you want to wait a few.” A pause as he went to actually switch the coffee maker on. It began to hum, and he turned. “So what brings you in? Road trip? Couldn’t sleep? Needed to give the fuzz the slip?”

[julescromwell-blog]

         If you were looking for Jules, chances were you could find her at The Four Palms. The immortal didn’t need a place of employment, but the tasks and routine served as a beautiful distraction from the endless time on her hands. Rarely did anyone ever come through the doors asking specifically for her; she preferred it this way. The normal toil of the shop gave her an outlet of her time, knowledge and abilities. She was focused on the herbs, gently caring for the fragile plants as she prepared the ingredients for a pumice -- one of her favorites to concoct. She hummed a tune from long ago as she worked, traditional herbal magic reminded her of a much simpler time. Lost in her own doings Julienne was unaware of the customer standing on the other side of the counter.  The clearing of a throat cut the tune to a stop, Julienne froze, momentarily forgetting that she was not here solely for her own pleasure. “My apologies, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” She turned around with a smile, “what can I do for you?”

[adebeauvoir]

     "tea leaves are different, anyone can read tea leaves." she doesn’t mean to sound dismissive, as if the act of reading tea leaves was a waste of ones time. but to a psychic, a real psychic, looking at the bottom of a tea cup and making an educated guess about the symbolism of it’s contents wasn’t acknowledged as a true prediction. " --  it’s actually quite easy and about as accurate as your daily horoscope." audrey shrugs as she looks up, a slight smile touching the corners of her lips that becomes somewhat awkward once she realises she’s not alone. 

         it’s not uncommon for her to talk to herself sometimes, to have entire conversations in her head only to accidentally vocalise her side without mentioning the other. offering a now sheepish grin, audrey cleared her throat and fidgeted with her hands. "i uh ... i could teach you, if you like ?“ but she’s quick to offer an alternative, her voice quiet despite the public surroundings. “-- or we could just, drink it ... that’s an option too ...”

[lemniscvte]

He couldn’t handle this, any of this. The perpetual feeling like he was still travelling, like his feet weren’t on the ground. He wasn’t fully locked into this reality in which he really belonged. Images, flashes of something else, kept slipping into his mind, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. So he steadied them with a bottle of vodka, until the spinning had a reason to be there, until his hands and head had a reason to shake. He wondered if anyone knew he was missing. Another swallow of the liquor as he shook his head. He stepped onto the railing of the bridge, staring at the water below. One hand on the railing, the other around a bottle of liquor. Madness or drunk bravery had him wondering if he could travel before he hit the water. 

[skeletvl]

Ray needed a drink. He needed a drink and six days of sleep, but since only the first was really obtainable, he walked through the doors of Voodoo Moon. The werewolf bar was relatively quiet, a few humans, the bartender who all the girls flirted with, and several werewolves. He wanted to play a round of darts too. It had been a rough shift, and as the holidays loomed closer, it was only going to get rougher. He leaned over the edge of the bar to order a glass of scotch, eyes flicking to the person next to him. “You alright?” They looked a little worse for wear too.

[diana-thorn]

The explosion had scared her, brought her back to her childhood. One moment she was at the scene, the next she was lost in time again. But before she knew it she was in the middle of the main street, tears streaming down her face as she let out a scream. She couldn’t go back there- she couldn’t go back in time again. “Make it stop!” She cried out, her hands covering her face as she fell to her knees not yet realizing she was back. A person came to rush at her and she let out a violent scream, pushing them away. “Don’t!” Once she came to, she looked up at the person like a lost child. “I... I’m sorry.” She breathed, trying to catch herself once she realized where she was. 

[lianasheffield-blog]

Liana missed running. It had been something she loved to do in the past, once a week going to a wooded area and just running free. Now, 7 months into her new home, she wasn’t quite sure yet whether or not it was safe to restart her old habit, or even where she could do it. So, if Liana couldn’t run as a wolf, perhaps she could run as herself. That was why she found herself in The Pit at least a few times a week, spending a few hours on the treadmill in the early morning.

About an hour into her run, she felt eyes on her and slowed her running. Looking over she noticed someone watching and shared what she hoped to be an encouraging smile. “The one next to me is open if you’re wondering. I promise I won’t bite.”