capeandcowllogs | (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!]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He chuckled, shaking his head. He wasn't necessarily known for his sense of humor, but the divine sort was something altogether. He paused, for just a moment, sobering, before he simply pulled out a lighter, flicking it to light the cigarette at the end of his plastic holder. ]

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.

It's an interesting one, in my experience. Not that I've been asked for feedback.

[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?

I dislike jokers.

[ 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?

[Everyone had their own set of tastes, she figured with a mental shrug. Tastes rooted in a history, but she wasn't breaking into the therapist trade just yet.]

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.

I thank you.

[ 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.