Serendipity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
musement) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2013-07-20 02:45 pm
musement) wrote in capeandcowllogs2013-07-20 02:45 pm
(no subject)
WHO: Serendipity and OPEN
WHERE: The Iceberg Lounge and surrounding area.
WHEN: July 19th-21st
WARNINGS: Sass
SUMMARY: Serendipity starts her first week as an abstract waitress
FORMAT: Whatever works. Feel free to bump into her at the Lounge or around the City on her way to and from work.
[Taking orders was a talent Serendipity had been born with, but historically speaking they were slightly more vague than ‘shaken, not stirred.’ Go inspire the Bible. Time for a new blockbuster. That kind of thing. But she could adapt. The uniform was better than her last job, in any case. The gazes still lingered, and in the same areas as during her stripping term, but the leggings rode up less. The chaffing that came with certain clothing was really something they never talked about concerning human life. A major oversight, in her opinion.
She leaned against the bar for a moment, elbows against the cool surface, and let out a quiet huff of breath as she waited for the bartender to whip up the latest drink order. It wasn’t that she minded the work. Really, there was something oddly peaceful about indulging in humanity. But it had been three days. Three days in this City, and still no sign. No word. Not even a text by burning house plant. Nothing. Whatever her ending up in a new dimension had to do with The Plan, Serendipity was apparently being left to puzzle it out on her own.]
I'm starting to worry about that sense of humor.
[[ooc: Serendipity has a lower level aura of Inspiration around her, described in more detail in her app. Characters nearby are feel to free inspirited to try new things or get sudden ideas/insights!]]
WHERE: The Iceberg Lounge and surrounding area.
WHEN: July 19th-21st
WARNINGS: Sass
SUMMARY: Serendipity starts her first week as an abstract waitress
FORMAT: Whatever works. Feel free to bump into her at the Lounge or around the City on her way to and from work.
[Taking orders was a talent Serendipity had been born with, but historically speaking they were slightly more vague than ‘shaken, not stirred.’ Go inspire the Bible. Time for a new blockbuster. That kind of thing. But she could adapt. The uniform was better than her last job, in any case. The gazes still lingered, and in the same areas as during her stripping term, but the leggings rode up less. The chaffing that came with certain clothing was really something they never talked about concerning human life. A major oversight, in her opinion.
She leaned against the bar for a moment, elbows against the cool surface, and let out a quiet huff of breath as she waited for the bartender to whip up the latest drink order. It wasn’t that she minded the work. Really, there was something oddly peaceful about indulging in humanity. But it had been three days. Three days in this City, and still no sign. No word. Not even a text by burning house plant. Nothing. Whatever her ending up in a new dimension had to do with The Plan, Serendipity was apparently being left to puzzle it out on her own.]
I'm starting to worry about that sense of humor.
[[ooc: Serendipity has a lower level aura of Inspiration around her, described in more detail in her app. Characters nearby are feel to free inspirited to try new things or get sudden ideas/insights!]]
the 19th!
Something about her.
He was striding by when he caught wind of her words. He turned his head, stopping, and stepping closer. ]
Hm? Are you talking about my sense of humor?
no subject
The divine one, Mr. Cobblepot. Really, I haven't been around this town long enough to have any say on yours.
no subject
I'm sure he must have an awful sense of humor, certainly.
[ Not that he was a believer, but the humor of the thought wasn't lost on him, coming from, well, him. When he'd been a boy, there'd been a time, when he'd wondered how god could be so cruel. That'd been a long time ago. ]
I'm sure you'll find out who the funny men here are soon enough.
no subject
[Correcting to the her was something for possibly another time. Even the angels defaulted to the male pronoun from time to time, after all. It all came as a matter of perception. But the 'awful' she couldn't let stand without comment.]
But the ones with the best jokes never have to ask if they're funny, do they?
no subject
[ There was a slight sneer on his lips at that. Oswald Cobblepot did hate jokers quite a bit, mostly of the pasty, clown-painted variety. His lip curled, but after a moment, he let it drop. He was hardly going to sour the mood with such a lovely companion at his side.
Besides, there were no Jokers here, thankfully. He was hardly going to complain about that in front of her. ]
But who worries about the unfunny sorts. They know they're unappreciated. Perhaps we should move on to more pleasant subjects. How are you faring so far?
no subject
It'll take a little more than drink orders to give me any trouble, don't worry. Everything's smooth so far. You've built a good trade.
no subject
[ He sounded prideful, but there was no surprise in the acceptance of the statement. He knew he'd perfected the trade. He was proud of the lounge, it was true. Prideful, even.
He only chuckled softly, waving a hand to her. ]
And I did hope you'd find it a pleasant experience.
no subject
Thanks to his powers, even with a couple broken fingers he still has enough music 'recorded' to keep the gravy train going, to put on a good and varied show, accompanying the pre-arranged music with careful playing of the instruments he can still manage, and brilliant, beautiful dancing lights.
He comes down to the bar after his set, orders a double bourbon. He sees Serendipity set down beside him, and looks her way. New waitress, isn't it? He gives her a nod, and a little smile.
no subject
The fact it's spoken makes it a little hard to tell, but the word musician still comes off more as a title than a job description. The King, the President, the Musician. An honorable office instead of something to pay the rent. Not everyone treated it that way, but Serendipity had been around just long enough to pick up the difference. In any case, she flash a smile back, figuring the tables can see to themselves for just a minute or two.
no subject
"New, right?"
no subject
Even when the flesh had been new, she'd technically been around any city on Earth- every city on Earth- since the first stone had been laid. Here though? Who knew what had inspired this world build. Entirely new nations sprinkled all over. It was a mess.
"So I should probably start with introductions. I'm Serendipity."
no subject
"Roger Keith." But that of course isn't his name. Any of them. (Needing a less attached-to-a-warrant name for Mr. Cobblepot to advertise, it had seemed like a nice nod to one of the men who had 'inspired' him. Surely Mr. Barrett wouldn't mind.)
no subject
Nothing she'd have ever been able to come up with, truth be told, no matter how much she suspected they could have done better. Ported in, ImPort. Really, whoever came up with that one should be in a band themselves.
"And what about you, Roger?"
no subject
"Mm. Yeah. I'm Floyd on the network. Stage names." A casual shrug, another sip of his bourbon. All that needed to be said about it, as far as he was concerned. "Where and when is you you're from, then?" Genuine curiosity. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was hearing about people's home universes.
no subject
The Iceberg Lounge is a place she's heard plenty about but has never set foot inside. At the moment, she is sitting on a rooftop across the street, watching people walk in and out. It's more interesting than meditating again, she supposes. Her nostrils flare as she inhales to sigh (a chore for herself right now, but what does it matter?) but pauses after breathing in.
That's new.
A scent she hasn't yet caught, one with a very distinct aura. Not incredibly powerful, but certainly something to note since it seems to be constantly active, unlike a normal humani's aura. She drops from the ledge, landing silently, and inhales again as she walks towards the entrance. She isn't dressed appropriately, in her white jeans and white t-shirt, but she doesn't give the man at the door (or anyone) a second look. She continues to inhale. Under her breath, she murmurs:]
Ink. Old parchment, where are you?
[Nostrils flaring once more she swivels her heard towards the bar, cat-slit eyes honing in on the scent's source. And she can see the aura without even concentrating--a slight flicker, though she can't see the color. It doesn't matter. She makes a beeline for the woman.]
no subject
There was no hidden handshake among the divine, to secret signal a body of flesh contained anything other than a human soul. Part of Her mystery. Serendipity and the rest got along by memory and good communication skills. So there was no sign to her the woman before her was anything but that. Still, she had to give points when someone knew what they wanted. She shifted the tray back, letting it half rest on the bar for another moment.]
Looking for something?
no subject
This must be remedied.
The redhead inclines her head, inhaling once more, memorizing everything.]
Yes. [She doesn't blink, simply inspects. Best to be blunt, voice kept low.] What are you?
no subject
Still. An abstract didn't play the game by just handing out business cards. Serendipity narrowed her eyes, searching the woman's face. Nope. Nothing she recognized. Unless someone else had gone body shopping recently.]
Have we met? Pinball fan, maybe?
no subject
The quip doesn't make sense to her, so all she does for a moment is inspect the woman in return.]
I'm awful at arcade games. [A beat.] You didn't answer me.
no subject
Serendipity.
no subject
Serendipity. [The name feels strange on her tongue. But with all the things she's seen in this City, she isn't about to assume that the woman is lying. After all, there have been humanoid versions of ideas before.] I'm Scathach.
no subject
She was also edging a little closer. Funny enough, the closer she got, the more ways in which she might start up a conversation struck her. Not to mention thoughts on her powers. Crime fighting. Her faux-twin roommate... What she didn't expect was that the woman would speak first.]
Me?
slides in
If live and movies have taught him anything, it's that when you see Salma Hayek as Not Salma Hayek in the street, you have a duty to figure out who she is and where she's going.
So that you can tell your best friend about it later.
And your other friends if they ever get here.
But perhaps most importantly, Abed would never forgive himself for not embracing the chance to do some sleuth work side adventuring in his new environment. Superhero by night, noir detective by day. Well, for one day, at least. He'll run with it, don his illusory fedora, and see what happens.
Which makes the short story of ducking in after her to stake out a proper categorizing look a little longer than it strictly needs to be. But opening scenes are important like that. He's already wondering if it's frowned upon to turn everything sepia for effect by the time he sits down. The pretend sleuth's waiting game: Not New York edition. ]
no subject
She smiled as she stopped at the table, empty tray tucked under her arm not that the last round had been delivered.]
I'm Serendipity. I'll be taking care of you.
no subject
He can get right to the pointing and sharp excitement this way. That's a bonus. ]
Dogma! Nineteen-ninety-nine, View Askewniverse. I knew I knew you. You specifically, not just your face. It's exciting either way but this is definitely cooler.