#foxfirerp

From the moment Casey stepped into the Archive, he hadn’t stopped moving. After sending one of his workers home with an odd case of the flu, he had stepped in, pulling his weight around. There were more farmers than usual, which, wasn’t that much of a surprise to the owner seeing as the week was midway, just in time for late nights at the Outlaw, which would send the old men straight to the Archive for some breakfast in the morning. Those were the ones who didn’t have families. Those who did? They were far more polite. Now, as the only worker there as he had sent the other two on a break, he took a moment to breathe. But, for the first time today, Casey wasn’t interested in the regulars or the hungover night-owls but rather a pair of suits in the corner. In such a small town, it was easy to pick up on gossip, especially in a coffee shop. Casey would never admit but he heard much - almost too much - about the town, the people, the drama. The two men, at a glance, seemed respectable, but as they continued to let their words contradict their semi-okay looks, Casey just felt his ire grow. The one on the left was talking to the one on the right about how it just was’t the ‘same’ with his wife, and that’s why he slept with old Ellen down the road. The other one told him that he would help him get through a divorce need be, but his body language told Casey different- if those two were to divorce, then he was definitely going to pursue wife who was left stranded. Snorting quietly to himself as they rambled on, Casey rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, tanned arms flexing as he began moving things around on the counter, trying to block out their voices.

Roulette felt her ‘fox roll under the surface as the scent of 'meat wafted up to her nose. Her gaze rounded around the building, taking in the locals. She strayed away from the tables, choosing to sit at the counter, at the end and away from the various patrons. She wasn’t exactly sure what had prompted her to visit the Big Mama’s but she had been craving a burger, and she had grown restless simply wandering around Fairburn on her day off. “Burger, rare,” the order came out without a thought when she was approached, her teeth already aching to sink into meat. Roulette reached up to rub at her eyes, digging her knuckles into the back of her eyelids hard enough that she saw spots when she opened them.