capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

WHO: Andy, April, and Katurian
WHERE: Brooooadway.
WHEN: Wednesday April 5th, evening
WARNINGS: Talk of death.
SUMMARY: Katurian takes Andy and April to a surprise musical. It's a perfectly acceptable thing to do, when you've just been dead.
FORMAT: Quicklog.

[The first thing Katurian does when he comes back from the dead is contact Angelica. His murderer.

The second thing he does is buy scalped tickets to the musical Chicago.

He gets the money from the stash in his old, hidden apartment and sets out with a fevered energy for those tickets, combing streets and streets and streets and finally paying far more than was needed, practically shoving those bills into the man's jacket. He buys three tickets. Himself. Andy. April.

He calls them through the communicator like it was any other Wednesday, like he had good news instead of the comparatively awful. He has a surprise! he said. Meet him at Broadway!

He waits for them with his hands tucked in his pockets. He whistles.]

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[For all the aggravation, April can't help a tiny, microscopic upward twitch of one corner of her mouth at Andy's blatant lies. Peacekeepers.

So her words are more resigned that sharp now. Anger was too hard here, now that he was alive. And trying. Painfully trying.]

Whatever. At least people will stop giggling about us living alone now, I guess. The threesome rumors are so better.

[So. Welcome back Katurian.]

[ Andy tenses a little at that. ]

Yeah, well, I mean, they shouldn't -- wait, are you serious? Isn't that weird?

[ Wait, maybe she's joking again. He has deliberately not asked her age for a reason. ]

Actually, this does mean your raccoons can't keep going into Katurian's room anymore. Um-- [ He rubs his neck. ] Thanks, it is pretty great. I thought it was about time I started acting more like a manager, and not just a small paper business manager. I'm out of Scranton, darn it, and I might as well act like it.

[At threesome rumor, Katurian double-takes not so subtly. He is used to the rumors about him and Andy (thank you, Mr. Sionis), but April is a new, unpredictable variable. With Cassie's confession so vivid in his memory, he hopes and prays that this is a joke, oh please, let this be--

And then Andy mentions the raccoons.]

Can't what?

[He practically whines. Raccoons on his clean laundry. Raccoons on his typewriter.]

What about the raccoons?

It's not like you were living there.

[God. They just wanted to try their hand at writing, Katurian. Don't cry about it.]

They do a better job of being you, anyway.

I've been cleaning it, don't worry.

[ Andy fiddles with his tie. ]

I'm just saying.

Thank you, Andy.

[He sees Andy fiddling with his tie and, unthinkingly, reaches over to stop his hands. The anxiety is getting to him.]

It looks fine. Anyway April, that doesn't make a bit of sense, the raccoons doing a better job of being me. What sort of IQ do they have, beyond following your orders? Minimal?

I dunno. How much IQ does it take to have a zero death count?

[ Andy swallows. ]

So, guys, should we go sit down?