skidcrow — Roleplayer Guild

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
JACK WILKERSON

█     act one: way down we gop. johnson's
@Eleven @Gisk @banjoanjo @Mao Mao
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Meir wasn't a professor for nothing. PJ's as a venue was purely out of its locational convenience, being right down Main Street, and the fact Jack was too cheap to buy cases of beer for them to drink elsewhere. They would need to leave eventually to go crack open the time capsule she'd been lugging around—there was a small clearing she'd earmarked, just outside the confines of the temporary fencing and do not enter signs imprisoning Ritman. All she needed was a head-count to make sure everyone was there, then they could fuck off. She checked her phone. 4.50. A reply from William Bishop she'd missed, and she couldn't stop the random Still Life Gospel riff that burrowed into her head. Squeer. The universe was really fucking taunting.

"Well, y'know, there's just so many places to gather here. We could go to Old Navy, or... get some lobster sticks from Dave's." She slurped at her drink as Hanna sat back down, following her gaze to Meir, and then Meir's gaze to the doorway. Freya Brigham, shadowing the entrance of P.J's. With how much of a presence Freya had in Ritman, it was odd seeing her off to the side. Her eyes travelled from Freya back to Meir. Being on speaking terms with the both of them in high school, Jack would sometimes offhandedly mention Freya to him, and each time he would go... weird. Seeing that look on his face? There were practically little cherubs dancing around his head.

Quickly assessing the situation, Jack looked thoroughly around the room (a task she did not often perform) and recognised Sara Zhou stood at one of the booths. Craning her head slightly, she noticed the vague shadow of someone sat at the same booth, and discovered it to be... Lucas. Even though he'd responded to Jack's invite she was still surprised he actually showed. Meir at least had the glow-up and doctorate going for him, but after graduation Lucas had just disappeared off the face of the Earth; not that she could blame him.

She weighed her options. If she stayed at the bar, she was going to be in the middle of whatever Gnomeo and Juliet bullshit Meir was about to enact on Freya. At the booth was another person who got caught up in the rumour mill that she'd dropped like a hot potato. But Sara was there, and the two of them had been good with each other, even if Jack hadn't really seen her around in the years since. There was also a hundred percent more chance of not being at the bar when Maya got there.

"I'm gonna see what's up at the booth," she declared, weakly slapping Meir on the back.

As she got up, drink in hand, William Bishop strolled through the door, dressed like pop punk's Cobain. The guy looked good himself. He was still exactly the same as he'd been in high school. She didn't keep up much with him or his band, just listened to their music well-hidden on a guilty pleasures playlist, along with every other song that would've made her younger self have an aneurysm. It was good stuff, she just wasn't quite ready to be caught dead listening to it yet.

"Freya; Billy, hey!" Jack raised her glass to his question. "We've already been on this shit, you guys should get in there. Meir and Hanna are sat with the time capsule. I'm gonna check up with Lucas and Sara." She nodded in the direction of the latter, moving away from the main crowd. It was just Ben to go, if she wasn't forgetting anybody. She hadn't seen him yet, but Ben could wear a pink feather boa and Jack still wouldn't be able to pick him out from a crowd. Then again, that wasn't saying much considering she was surprised she managed to remember everyone's faces.

Jack hopped up the stairs and walked towards the booth, taking a big gulp of her drink. There was an odd tightness in her chest, and she couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the pang of guilt seeing Lucas Watson in the flesh. It's not like she stuck with anybody in Ritman, but shit seemed to hit him harder than it did anyone else. Others at least had their ways of coping or shaking themselves free of the gossip circle little by little. She quickly swallowed a lump in her throat before fully approaching, leaning casually against the seat back.

"Hey guys, what's up? Party's happening over there." She gestured vaguely over her shoulder. "I think this place would explode before Cal started doing table service, so." Jack glanced towards the bar. Cal was staring right at her, eyes bulging, while not-so-subtly jamming his head in the direction of the door behind the bar. As if on command, it swung open, revealing a blur of long black hair before Jack swivelled out of view. Of course Maya would be early for her shift today. Seeing no other option, she clambered for the nearest spare chair and brought it to the booth, sitting with her back to the bar and chair backwards as always, arms slung casually over the backrest. "Well I mean, there's no rush. Curfew for construction is 8pm so we got a couple hours of demolishing."

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔


^{JACK WILKERSON} ^{█ act one: way down we go} ^{p. johnson's _{@Eleven @Gisk @banjoanjo @Mao Mao}} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	_{Meir wasn't a professor for nothing. PJ's as a venue was purely out of its locational convenience, being right down Main Street, and the fact Jack was too cheap to buy cases of beer for them to drink elsewhere. They would need to leave eventually to go crack open the time capsule she'd been lugging around—there was a small clearing she'd earmarked, just outside the confines of the temporary fencing and do not enter signs imprisoning Ritman. All she needed was a head-count to make sure everyone was there, then they could fuck off. She checked her phone. 4.50. A reply from William Bishop she'd missed, and she couldn't stop the random Still Life Gospel riff that burrowed into her head. Squeer. The universe was really fucking taunting. "Well, y'know, there's just so many places to gather here. We could go to Old Navy, or... get some lobster sticks from Dave's." She slurped at her drink as Hanna sat back down, following her gaze to Meir, and then Meir's gaze to the doorway. Freya Brigham, shadowing the entrance of P.J's. With how much of a presence Freya had in Ritman, it was odd seeing her off to the side. Her eyes travelled from Freya back to Meir. Being on speaking terms with the both of them in high school, Jack would sometimes offhandedly mention Freya to him, and each time he would go... weird. Seeing that look on his face? There were practically little cherubs dancing around his head. Quickly assessing the situation, Jack looked thoroughly around the room (a task she did not often perform) and recognised Sara Zhou stood at one of the booths. Craning her head slightly, she noticed the vague shadow of someone sat at the same booth, and discovered it to be... Lucas. Even though he'd responded to Jack's invite she was still surprised he actually showed. Meir at least had the glow-up and doctorate going for him, but after graduation Lucas had just disappeared off the face of the Earth; not that she could blame him. She weighed her options. If she stayed at the bar, she was going to be in the middle of whatever Gnomeo and Juliet bullshit Meir was about to enact on Freya. At the booth was another person who got caught up in the rumour mill that she'd dropped like a hot potato. But Sara was there, and the two of them had been good with each other, even if Jack hadn't really seen her around in the years since. There was also a hundred percent more chance of not being at the bar when Maya got there. "I'm gonna see what's up at the booth," she declared, weakly slapping Meir on the back. As she got up, drink in hand, William Bishop strolled through the door, dressed like pop punk's Cobain. The guy looked good himself. He was still exactly the same as he'd been in high school. She didn't keep up much with him or his band, just listened to their music well-hidden on a guilty pleasures playlist, along with every other song that would've made her younger self have an aneurysm. It was good stuff, she just wasn't quite ready to be caught dead listening to it yet. "Freya; Billy, hey!" Jack raised her glass to his question. "We've already been on this shit, you guys should get in there. Meir and Hanna are sat with the time capsule. I'm gonna check up with Lucas and Sara." She nodded in the direction of the latter, moving away from the main crowd. It was just Ben to go, if she wasn't forgetting anybody. She hadn't seen him yet, but Ben could wear a pink feather boa and Jack still wouldn't be able to pick him out from a crowd. Then again, that wasn't saying much considering she was surprised she managed to remember everyone's faces. Jack hopped up the stairs and walked towards the booth, taking a big gulp of her drink. There was an odd tightness in her chest, and she couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the pang of guilt seeing Lucas Watson in the flesh. It's not like she stuck with anybody in Ritman, but shit seemed to hit him harder than it did anyone else. Others at least had their ways of coping or shaking themselves free of the gossip circle little by little. She quickly swallowed a lump in her throat before fully approaching, leaning casually against the seat back. "Hey guys, what's up? Party's happening over there." She gestured vaguely over her shoulder. "I think this place would explode before Cal started doing table service, so." Jack glanced towards the bar. Cal was staring right at her, eyes bulging, while not-so-subtly jamming his head in the direction of the door behind the bar. As if on command, it swung open, revealing a blur of long black hair before Jack swivelled out of view. Of course Maya would be early for her shift today. Seeing no other option, she clambered for the nearest spare chair and brought it to the booth, sitting with her back to the bar and chair backwards as always, arms slung casually over the backrest. "Well I mean, there's no rush. Curfew for construction is 8pm so we got a couple hours of demolishing."} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

My last post here was 13 days ago, which feels like yesterday. The post before this one, right now, is 4 days ago, which feels like 2 weeks.@Prisk

sorry i accidentally spilled too much swag everywhere and created the twilight zone

shit did get kind of messy irl for me so it was difficult to keep up on here but it is mostly in the past and now i'm ready to be annoying and pester you all. i am writing a post (have to wait for austin to get back to me on something atm) to bridge the gap between the bar and the booth (and the doorway), if that's going to interfere with the post you're doing @Eleven lmk

i will still consider us in a grace period while people are gathering and such, but once the main events kick off, what are people's thoughts on post deadlines to avoid the break of flow? something simple like leave less than x amount of days between your last and next post.

skidcrow Member

Status

Bio

Most Recent Posts