loup-garou

Her eyes flicked briefly to the group he started the night off with. They could use another round. She motioned to Joe to go take care of it. "Mr. Lonelyheart, huh? What gives?"

"I don't see a lot of connoisseurs around here," Nell admitted, "even during Oktoberfest." That was the last thing she needed. A respectful customer was one thing, but a mansplaining know-it-all was quite another. Nell was usually able to get the worst of them on the Wall of Shame, where the social miasma among the regulars would finish the job.

"So," she declared, offering the menu again, "what's up first, Home Rule or Wolf It Down?"

"Oh, I know." Imran could sell water to the ocean. "Just as long as that day isn't today!"

Sitting down as invited, Nell considered the idea from all angles. How was she doing? Okay, more or less. How had she been? Well, that was harder to say. She had missed the soirée, only to return to town just as Prometheus decided to wreak havoc. Between the White Elephant Party and the Spring Masquerade, Nell often found herself in mingled awe and horror, watching as Lunar Cove somehow held itself and all its people together again and again. Could she have done more to help? She still didn't know the answer. "Fine," she supposed, gaze flitting about the room. That word always covered all manner of sins. "Or the same as you remember, maybe. I don't think I've changed one bit."

The benefit of working at Broken Record was, in the summer, air conditioning. Sure, Rae Elle enjoyed talking about and selling music, but the joys of not having to work out in the heat in all or mostly black was always going to be more of a benefit than anything else. Business tended to fluctuate around this time of the year, with the shop typically empty with bursts of business as people came in to escape. She didn't really mind.

When the door opened and Nell came in, Rae leaned against the counter and offered a smile. "Hex Pistols? You're in luck: they just released some new stuff, and this is the place to get it, unless you go straight to the source." She leaned forward, grinning conspiratorily. "And I happen to have an in with the source." She walked over to the section with the Hex Pistols' new album, offering one up to Nell. "Battling with a Boomer, huh? That don't sound too fun."

"Do tell," she said, eager to join the conspiracy. "Old friends, if I had to guess?"

Taking the album, Nell studied the cover art. She loved collecting new music, even though her errand kept the brewery in mind. A glimpse into the soul of someone else could take you out of your own body and away from your troubles, at least for a while.

"If I lose the battle, this will help me win the war." Her grandfather's idea of ambience was playing Duran Duran on repeat. "You know how Old Harry can get." Nell folded the album under her arm like a book. "How's this place treating you?" She asked. "Good summer?"

For his genuine talents and his sincere appreciation for art, merchandising was never quite his strong suit. Too often, things he found attractive or interesting landed someplace cerebral, outside the desirable quaintness his young employee so often told him he was lacking.

Turning around, then, Ignacio smiled, though, letting the wreath dangle around his wrist. "Bonjour. How may I help you?"

"Beautiful work," she told him, unable to help herself. "Did it take long?"

His own question was polite, but the prospect of failure weighed heavily on Nell. A year into running the brewery alone (Harry's commentary from the peanut gallery notwithstanding) and each step forward seemed as if it would launch her and the brand ten steps back. Did every business owner feel the same—like one wrong move would send everything crashing down? The burden of a legacy only grew bigger and bigger.

Nodding, Nell rallied. She had a plan.

"I'd like to be one of your clients, if you're still taking them on. There's always room to improve Bad Moon Brewery, and I think your products could help me do that. I brought along a few proposals for you to consider...unless you'd rather we talk them out now?"

Location: Solstice Therapy

"Hello," Imran perked up from where he had been taking notes behind his desk. A warm smile etched its way across his lips as he noticed the resident lingering in the doorway of his office within Solstice Therapy. "You wouldn't happen to be here for a session, would you?" He asked, glancing down once at his watch to confirm that it was, in fact, five o'clock and time for his next client.

When Nell heard Imran was back in town, she headed over to Solstice as soon as she could, and saw he was alone. "That might be a good idea," she noted of the question, "for some other time." Nell stepped into the office, smiling. "It's so great to see you, Imran."

To her, Imran had done the impossible. It gave Nell hope.

"Oh, hey." Wei's brows lifted as the woman appeared beside him, the greeting barely out of his mouth before she launched into what sounded suspiciously like the world's best sales pitch. "So... your opening offer is free beer and a guaranteed ride home?" A grin spread across his face. "You know, my mum always told me if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is. On the other hand...I'd be pretty dumb to turn down free beer, right?" He nodded, deciding this was a great offer. "Deal." Only then did something else occur to him. "Wait... what's the catch? Is there a catch? Are you gonna keep me company or am I gonna have to do this like those clinical trials people sign up for?"

"Sounds like a smart woman," Nell answered, "who raised you right."

She raised her hands in mock appeal. "Company's optional, but it might be a good thing when you start to feel green around the gills and need your Awoober called. And," Nell went on, "your input on the samples would be appreciated. That's the catch. These are all brand new, and none of them are on the menu yet. They could be really good, or really bad." God, she hoped they wouldn't be bad. Developing recipes took a long time, and refining a batch little by little was easier than starting from scratch. "Still interested?"

Nell laughed and followed Sun-Hee to the kitchen just as she had done a hundred times before. "Dangerous words to say to someone who owns a brewery." Mixing experiments were like playing with fire. Throw some magic on top of it and maybe she and Sun-Hee would really start a fire. "We could end up with a punch which might actually punch us."

She retrieved the champagne first and poured it into two flutes. "A toast to your new job?"

"Let's hope," She mumbled under her breath, though she was rather skeptical of this town being able to get anything back up and running in a few minutes, let alone all of the power. Her guess was it would likely take hours, and all of the milk in the bakery fridges would need to be tossed at the end of it. "Wait, you can do that?" Her eyes widened as she gave Nell a thankful nod. "Yes, please! I'm not really sure what relighting the pilot means, but I leave you to it, and as for your phone, I have a bag of rice inside we can put it in. I sometimes use rice as pie weights. It's cheaper, and then you pop it in the rice cooker and get a whole meal out of it. It should save its life," She reasoned as she began to wheel herself back around to head back inside.

A bargain struck, Nell followed Gigi into the building and set her phone down on a counter. "That rice thing always sounds like magic to me." She was 0-2 on electronics, but the stove was something she could work on. Old tricks from an old dog. Nell crouched by the oven and peered inside. "No light," she confirmed, glancing over her shoulder at Gigi. "Do you have a lighter you'd use for birthday candles? The longer the wand, the better."

Without power, Nell might be wasting both of their time on the quick fix, especially if the Pie Hole used newer model appliances in the kitchen, but this was still worth a try.

Genevieve had hardly been paying the heat much mind, spending the morning the way she normally did- stress baking up a storm in time for the Pride festivities. But she had just put a tray of soufflés in the oven when the lights went out, and the visceral gasp that had been evoked from her lips had been palpable. "No," She huffed, taking a step back from her oven that thankfully had only turned off and hadn't short-circuited. Removing her apron, the baker stepped into the back room to check to make sure her wireless hair straightener in her bag was still fully charged, which thankfully it was. She wasn't about to summon the rain if she couldn't fix her hair afterward. Walking over to the umbrella stand at the front of the shop, she plucked out her pink umbrella and unfolded her matching pink wheelchair. She unfurled her wings and began to wheel her way outside, making it a few feet out into the heat before her eyes began to glow and rain clouds formed overhead. The rain instantly cooled down the few blocks around her. And now that she was sitting there, having shifted into a tail, she declared before turning to the nearest person to her side, "There. The heat is gone. Now, how long do we think it will take until the power turns back on, because I like had these soufflés in the oven and they've definitely gone flat by now."

At the question, Nell glanced in the direction of the shop. The Pie Hole was one of her favorite haunts in Sunny Harbor, but she doubted it would have a backup generator ready to kick on at a moment's notice. "Any minute, probably." Today didn't seem like a day for a town-wide blackout, but when had Nell ever gambled and won? Maybe once playing Keno. "Need some help with the soufflés? I can relight the pilot if you're using a gas oven."