Pilatus

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

@Eviledd1984

This is fine. Just wait for one more GM approval.

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

Sena Knight

“Hello!” Karina answered GiGi and smiled accepting the menus. She tossed the green copy away and it slid partially under the napkin holder. Sena glanced down at it briefly, still wearing her sunglasses, reading the last paragraph of the last page when another voice jumped in excitedly over their server.

“SENA! KARINA!” The young girl shrieked. She couldn’t have been over sixteen and had the red ribbon in her hair along with a white Duran Duran t-shirt from the band’s Rio album that Sena found mildly amusing.

Karina winced a little as her name was shouted, but she smiled back, “Hiiiiiiii!” She answered like she’d known the girl forever. Within the lineup of the band, she was aware people kind of regarded her as a ditz and they weren’t completely wrong, but she genuinely did enjoy people particularly when the setting was less chaotic. She didn’t have to fake any appreciation of the fans and it was a large part of her popularity.

“I can’t believe it’s… YOU?!” The girl continued, basically inserting herself in front of GiGi. “What are you doing here?”

“I guess we just knew you were going to be here.” Sena said with a smirk.

The girl just melted at the words. “No one is gonna believe this!” She clasped her hands together and shook her head.

“Sure they will,” Karina produced a marker from her handbag. Another multicolored and diamond studded affair. She pulled the green paper back out from under the napkin tin. “Autograph?”

“Uhhhhh, like yeah!” She couldn’t believe her luck and bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly.

Karina scribbled her name and the thick marker bled over the printed type easily. She slid it back over to Sena who picked it up briefly to reread the same final paragraph with a snicker. Who knew if the girl would ever read what they had just signed over, but something about the “Gabber-In-Chief”’s words felt fitting. He was half right. With a few strokes of the marker she had drawn an inverted crown and a phrase: No King - No Master right above it. “Even if they don’t believe you now, they will in a couple weeks.” Sena said, signing her name with a heavy flourish on the “S” and the “t” at the trail of her last name that ripped through the letters like a whip being cracked.

“Oh my God, that is just like the most badass thing ever.” The girl said, gripping the paper in front of her with both hands as if she were holding a piece of priceless art and looking for a sign of approval from GiGi before tucking it back against her chest and dancing away happily singing to herself.

Karina read the phrase briefly as it passed by her eyes, it was something new, so she wasn’t sure where her sister was going with it. Sena never made plans and if she did, she waited until the last minute to announce them which usually ended up being a lot of fun watching everyone scramble. Still, Karina wondered sometimes if Sena wasn’t taking the whole “rebellion” thing a little too seriously. She glanced back up at their server who seemed to have been pushed to the background amidst the whole encounter and tried to be as nice as she could be: “Orange juice for me,” She said politely looking around at one of the tables that hadn’t been bussed amid the spectacle of the chopper landing. “In a clean glass, please.” She was completely sincere as she looked at GiGi.

“‘Rina!” Sena snapped. “They’re not gonna give you a dirty glass, you ditz.”

“Well I didn’t know,” Karina replied, shrugging innocently. “Maybe they need to save money or something.”

“No, that’s not how this works.” Sena replied, shaking her head. Still behind her sunglasses, she glanced back at GiGi, looking the girl up and down briefly before speaking. “Sorry about all that, just coffee for me.”

@Almalthia

80's Retro-Style - Slice of Life

Gonna give this one more bump. We are up and running in IC now, still easy to join. Appreciate everyone who has jumped in thus far!

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

Sena Knight

The Sweeper really had a time understanding the daughters and maybe under a different set of circumstances it would have been easier. He had two sons, both of whom he had encouraged to stay out of the hotel business and both of whom ended up joining the Navy. It was a good fit for them, full of firm structures and discipline, unlike the pair setting across from him in Marcus’ Bell Jetranger. As the humid turbulence jostled the aircraft a bit while they flew over the Bay towards downtown, he concluded, again, that if he had daughters like Sena and Karina he likely would have hung himself from one of the chopper’s landing pads, mid-flight, while over the shark-filled waters south of Pace Island. He hung up the helicopter’s large onboard phone having just rescheduled the interview that he knew there was no possibility of them making on time. There was at least a sales element to it that he could understand and unlike the promptness and careful attention to detail required for making property deals, many in other countries with their own explicit customs and tastes, a good manager in music had to sell the experience more than the music, which meant, in many situations, you could just lie your ass off completely. Sena wasn’t busy and she didn’t have a scheduling conflict like he told the station- she was just hungover. He could get her, and Karina, sobered up and on the air in an even better time slot later in the evening, that is, if the station still wanted the hottest act out of Miami to grace their airwaves- and he knew they did. The Downtown Diamond was where his office was located, they could land on the roof helipad, he could deposit them at the restaurant for a while, get some work done and then pop back over for the interview during rush-hour when everyone would be listening.

“I’m not eating at the Diamond,” Sena said flatly, her hand propped against her cheek as she glanced out of the window. She didn’t turn her head to speak.

“Ugh, not again.” Karina chimed in and checked her watch, one of several brightly colored bands along her arms. “It literally would be like the squarest place in town right now.”

“Bunch of old fudds having brunch over stock options…” Sena smirked. “No thanks.”

“This is literal five-star dining!” Danny protested. If nothing else, he would always defend his livelihood. “They’ll fix whatever you want, I have meetings there all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” Sena said, cutting her eyes back at him.

“You have meetings there.” Karina finished the thought.

“Might as well call it the wrinkle-room this time of day.” Sena grinned smugly as Karina cackled.

“Oh for God sakes,” Danny wiped a hand over his face and let out a huff of exasperation.

“You gettin’ mad, Danny?” Sena’s dark eyes seemed to liven up and that prospect of getting under his skin a little.

The older man thought for a moment as they carried on towards the city center with the steady sound of the rotors overhead. Suddenly, he had a thought and looked up, glancing past the pilot to see how far away from the hotel they were. He grabbed the phone back off the hook and mashed a button to get the pilot’s comms.

….

Sena barely seemed phased as they descended past tree-tops, while Karina craned her neck and looked around inquisitively. Dust began to kick up as the turning blades got closer to the ground and she could see people pointing and watching, some scrambling to get out of the wash of air that beat against the ground and fanned the grass. Sena continued to look unconcerned. She and Danny were having one of their battles. Karina smirked a little. It was similar to how her sister and their guitarist, Levi, got along, but Danny was older and could be very clever when he wanted to be, one reason why he’d been so successful in working for their dad. It was all very entertaining. The skids settled onto a soft, grass wayside and the pilot shut down the engines with a sleek mechanical whine. The rotors turned lazily for a moment casting rotating shadows while the hum of regular traffic became audible in the cabin.

“Let’s eat!” Danny said, rubbing his hands together as the pilot lowered the hatch.

Sena stepped down first into bright morning sun with Karina right behind. Visually, the sisters could not have looked more different other than the starkly black hair they shared. Sena wore acid-washed jeans, high-top Chucks and a matching black tank top. Both arms had a similar dark assortment of bracelets and a pair of sunglasses. The only color was one of her trademarks: a red ribbon that she wore discreetly through her long hair in a manner similar to 50’s styles. It was a custom many of her followers picked up. Karina on the other hand, wore bright yellow shorts with a blue belt, red flip-flops and a matching tube-top. Her hair was considerably shorter at shoulder length and she didn’t quite have Sena’s figure, being more boney and childlike in her appearance. She smiled brightly behind wide, red-framed glasses as she stepped down behind her sister. In contrast to Sena’s subtle ribbon, Karina wore a large red bow in her hair. It was never planned, but the differences between them became part of the appeal. None of the band members looked like they belonged together.

A bright yellow sign blinked with red neon across the street: Chef’s Drive-In.

“Me and your old man used to eat here all the time when they were building the Double-D.” Danny proclaimed with some smugness, but Sena was already walking away.

“That’s nice, I don’t need a life story or anything,” She said, not turning back. “Just don’t sit anywhere near us.” The small intersection was stopped for a traffic light and someone honked with a cat-call as Karina caught up. Sena blew the burly truck driver a kiss prompting several more horns and shouts of approval. She stepped up on the curb and strode across the small, weed-cracked parking lot.

A pair of bells on a rope wrapped around the entrance let the staff at Chef’s know when visitors came and went from the tiny establishment. Inside was a combination of smells ranging from fried food, a worn counter-size griddle with burgers sizzling, cigarette smoke and some combination of glass cleaner and bleach that was used to wipe down the tables and bar. The whole place could have used a coat of paint, but that project was scrapped long ago. The grease in the air from years of hearty cooking stuck to everything consequently making it so that paint wouldn’t stick to anything. Sena walked in as if she had been there a hundred times, unphased by the stares and murmurs of the locals, particularly those holding a certain piece of green copy. She slid into a booth and glanced briefly across the street seeing the traffic light had changed behind them, leaving Danny and the pilot to wait at the crossing.

Karina slid in across from her and plucked one of the green papers from between the salt and pepper shakers thinking it was a menu since she had seen several lying around when they walked in. She flipped her sunglasses up on her head and began scanning. She loved new things, though “Chef’s” wasn’t exactly a private reservation at Shogun.

“That’s not a menu.” Sena said. She still had on her sunglasses and had shifted sideways with her back against the wall, letting her legs stretch out.

Karina’s expression wrinkled some in disappointment and she flipped one of the pages and turned it upside-down, craning her head oddly to follow the words of a bizarre, coupon ad. “No… I don’t think I need a…” She pronounced the words slowly, having literally never read a sale flyer before in her life: “Psychosis...of...Savings...at ‘Insane Jane’s’ electronics outlet.”

@Almalthia

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

If everyone is happy with the map staying in the first OOC post, I will leave it there. Looking at using the zeroth just to keep the current time skip posted for easier reference.

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

Sena Knight

Heavy footsteps carried a disheveled pace across a finely manicured walkway. The sort of soft step generated by Berluti leather alternated somewhere between a brisk business stride and apprehensive caution. The man that they carried was little different than his current predicament: Heavy-set, short with large framed glasses and a quickly retreating hairline, but with an expertly tailored tan suit just as debonair as the shoes. Predicaments were a good thing, he always told himself. People paid money to have predicaments solved. When you were the best at it, Marcus Knight paid the best money. He retrieved a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and padded the sweat of an ever increasing morning humidity level. The initials simply read “DB” for Danny Broom, “the Sweeper” as they called him. He had worked for Marcus for many years, hotel after hotel, London, Tokyo, Sydney, Paris and through all the marriages. Setting up the Diamonds in Delta were to be the capstone of an illustrious career in one of the world's premier hotel names and the stadium deal was just another feather in his hat. However, he would have done ten more hotels and worked another whole decade past his guaranteed retirement if it would have gotten him out of his current assignment. He huffed and shook his head, taking a firmer grip on his briefcase as he strode the long pathway to the rear of Marcus’ Pace island estate, though he wasn’t there to see Marcus- he was there to see his daughter.

He stepped over what was left of an overturned buffet table and looked around the after-action battlefield of another wild party. His glasses fogged and he again retrieved his handkerchief to clean them, squinting briefly before putting them back. A large “Happy Birthday” banner wafted daintily from a stone column amid the scene. His nose curled slightly. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s birthday. He knew all of their birthdays: Sena, Karina, Tony, Aaron and even that smartass Levi. It was his job to know. Marcus demanded the best and that’s what he got. In hindsight he knew he had done it to himself. The birthday banner was just an ironic reminder. He could remember, years ago, Marcus had him organize Sena’s eleventh birthday party and it had been a grand-slam for his career. Sitting Presidents, Turkish Sultans, Japanese Emperors, royalty through the ages had rarely beheld such a spectacle. He thought about it briefly as he stepped up onto the ornate pool patio. That was where it all started. He thought with the tiniest of sighs. That was where the seed was planted. He winced as he stepped in something, but just kept walking. Sena was stretched out in a heavily padded lounge chair, still in her bathing suit apparently from the night before, black with an electric yellow stripe. She had on an absurdly large sun hat that covered most of her upper body.

“Sena!” He hissed, trying not to be too loud as he approached. He looked around again, finding Karina tucked into another lounge with a plush comforter taken from inside the house worth several thousand dollars that had been apparently dragged across the yard to keep her warm. He wiped his brow once more. There was at least hefty shade on the backside of the property and the air temperature was considerably cooler around the pool; however he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of two, angled, furry ears pointed in his direction from behind the older of the Knight daughters and he dared not move another step. He swallowed a dry gulp and tried to lean forward to give his voice even a few more inches to carry. “Sena!” She didn’t move, but the two ears stayed locked in his direction. He gripped his briefcase tightly with both hands. “Sena! Wake up!” The sweat that formed was no longer from the heat.

Sena Knight groaned groggily from beneath her hat. Her tanned slender legs shifted slightly from the interruption of her pleasant slumber, but the realization that she was rather cold caused her to tread her feet and unhappily roll over into the warm spot she’d been asleep in for several hours. The hat shifted clumsily with her over her shoulders and she exhaled in a long huff that seemed to cause her to sink further into the cushions.

“Sena, we’ve got an interview at the station, remember! The Sweeper pleaded. “It’s Wednesday!” He kept his eyes on the ears that continued to be angled straight at him like some sort of beam antennas on a jet.

After what felt like an hour of stone silence, Sena’s arm finally moved and she shifted over on her side. It was impossible for Danny not to look away from her ample backside- not a tan line in sight. He relaxed a bit seeing the ears fold back to accept her gentle reach.

“Tibsy…” Sena said playfully through dry, cracked dehydration. “Tiiiiiiiiiibsy”

Danny slowly stepped closer. The muscular neck of a full-grown Florida Panther craned upward to let her scratch under its chin. It seemed to grin happily as her perfectly manicured nails worked around behind its ears. Around its neck was a diamond studded collar with gold name plate: “MR TIBBS”.

“Such a handsome boy…” She said, almost whimsically. The large cat leaned into her arm and nudged against her adoringly before settling back down next to her.

“Sena!” Danny continued. “We gotta get goin-”

“No.” She said, rolling onto her back again. The hat still covered her face and she relaxed back into the cushions once more as if he wasn’t even there.

“This is a big deal!” He shot back, leaning forward as much as he dared. “This is how we get your big signing, you gotta get out there, you can’t just sit here by the pool and party every single day, my God, it’s only Wednesday!”

“Then get the helicopter.” Came the flat reply.

“Your dad is using the helicopter, and it’s not even that far.”

“No he’s not, I just talked to him.” She knew he was lying, so she was obliged to submit an even bigger lie. Mr. Tibbs rested peacefully on his massive front paws.

“Ugh, I wanna come too…” Karina said emerging from underneath the comforter, her black hair splayed all over from a mix of static and sweat. “But only for the helicopter.” Also still in her bathing suit, she propped her head up on one hand tiredly and yawned.

“Karina, honey.” Danny said. He felt relieved and could sense opportunity. The interview was only set for Sena, but he knew he could easily get Karina in as well. “You don’t have to come with us, relax and enjoy…”

Sena began snoring.

Danny reached for the edge of the chair to give it a gentle shake which instantly prompted Mr. Tibbs to set up, arrow-straight, looking directly at him. “Oh God, Jesus and Mary…” He said, frozen, looking the stone-faced creature directly in the eyes. He glanced back to find Sena glaring at him from beneath her hat.

“Get the helicopter or I’m gonna have Tibsy give you a kiss.”

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

S U M M E R 1988

- WEDNESDAY - FREE SKIP - HOT & HUMID - AFTERNOON THUNDERSTORMS -
No Planned GM Events

It's Summer, 1988 and you live in Delta City, Florida. It's hot, damn hot, but that's okay. Just telling people that you live in Florida conjures up all the right imagery: pastel colors, speed boats and neon lights on the water. You know it's not everything it looks like on TV- but it's not bad either. Living in Delta is a lot more laid back. Container ships come and ago across the bay while the regular sound of jet engines echo overhead. With your windows down, the smell of seafood and barbecue are common and at a few traffic lights, maybe a little ganja too. The radio plays probably the best lineup of genres you've heard all decade, everything from George Michael to Guns N' Roses, though the top spot on the charts is currently held by Steve Winwood. At the movies, Young Guns is still the most popular while the news occasionally blabs about the Olympics coming up Seoul and some noise about the Soviets scaling down in eastern Europe.

None of that stuff matters though, the weekend is in sight.

GULF GABS

DELTA CITY MESSAGE BOARD

Gulf Gabs is like a Reader's Digest of Delta City news. Normally printed on green paper and consisting of only a few pages, they are sold alongside the newspapers for only a few cents. No one is exactly sure where they are printed and carriers say the drop off is different on each run. Contents usually include heavy doses of anonymous gossip, photos and snippets from other sources, coupons and whatever else the editors feel like they can get away with. GG is universally hated by most of the other Delta media, but very popular among the city's residents. Rumor is they have a mole in the Delta Times, but no one is sure. Occasionally the "gabber-in-chief" likes to taunt with inside knowledge and figuring out who he/she may be has become a city legend.

Double D not a Guarantee
Originally published: Rooms and Recreation. Hotel industry magazine. Summer 1988

Hotel award season is hotting up, the expected winner of hotel of year now faces potential competition as the old Tropico reopened glory restored under new ownership. The Arlington, Caesars and the oldest big city name the Railroad Continental have all upped their game to name but a few in challenge to Diamond hotels group.

It's going to be an interesting summer.

Shogun Shines!
~Florida Food and Wine Magazine

...How did we get this lucky? Michelin Stars in Delta City? They don't even have that in Miami. Top shelf foreign cuisine and a price that's just as attractive. Did I mention the ambience? Somehow Jiro has made it both Florida and Japan in one place. The whole presentation just leads to a sense of indulgence, even if you are just stopping in for lunch. Did I mention the sake collection is to die for? Eat your heart out Los Angeles...

Enter the Gator
~from the Delta Times

Eastern Shore: A Florida Man was arrested after spraying his neighbors with bug spray and swinging nunchucks at them before accidentally hitting himself in the head with the weapon.

According to police, 61-year-old Larry Adams was complaining about his neighbor’s loud music in their apartment complex.

Adams sprayed four of the neighbors with bug spray, swung his nunchucks at them, and hit himself.

Note from the Gabber in Chief:
Neptune Festival coming up... Wonder if the Blue Angels will be too drunk out of their minds to perform this year? Remember what happened last time? Trader Jon's just about ran out of alcohol (I didn't think it was possible). They had to cancel the flyover at Annapolis! Should be a hoot!

No, I don't know whose been setting the fires recently. Probably if the Times spent as much time doing investigative journalism as they do trying to figure out my identity, they might actually sell some more of that rag. This morning I used a fresh copy to clean my windshield, which is about all it's good for. They should probably team up with whoever is pushing those fake paintings, bullshit on bullshit, yeah... more on that later Delta City!

Oh and by the way, if you think that little Princess from Miami and her band of delinquents are ever going to let this town get some sleep again, you are mistaken. She basically has no competition here. I'm sure Marcus is proud. I'll pay double what the Times pays for any photographer that can catch her insane followers behaving badly- big bonus if it's a band member.
~GIC

WEATHER

NOTE: This is a FREE SKIP, meaning the city is yours to explore and have fun! Just make sure you specify what time of day your character is out and about so you don't get mixed up in any continuity calamities.

ENJOY AND THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING TO PLAY WITH US

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

We're just about ready to go for IC launch. If you're reading this and are wanting to join the discord, just let me know.

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

@Conscripts, good to go- move him over.

@Xandrya- ok as well, need one more GM nod.

RETRO Slice of Life - 1988

Shooting for this weekend for IC start. No rush if you're still working on a character, jumping in is very easy here.