#mcstarter

status: open

"And... release." Sel's Yoga in the park wasn't exactly popular. But she was just delusional enough to still run it, despite the loss in profits. It was worth it for the vibes. She stretched her neck out, striking a smile that was instagram worthy (just in case) and then headed to pick up her gym bag. "I'll catch you all here next week." She picked up her phone, turning off the stream. Another three or four people watched online.

She stared at her phone as she started to head out of the park, stopping when she saw the exit to the park had been blocked off by some kind of construction. "Are you kidding me?" She huffed to the person beside her. "Does the drilling in this town ever stop these days?" She looked around her, unsure what direction to head into. "What are they even building at this time of the fudging morning?"

location: Medulla coffee house

@maplecstarters

Medulla wasn't Kris' normal coffee stop of choice, but he had been called in to a meeting and needed the strongest wifi he could find on the island. His option was here or the local library and he felt like he might disturb fewer people in the rather corporate coffee shop.

The people around him were a busy clientele and all sitting across separate tables. The walls were cold and clinical with the odd coffee bean decal stuck to break up the coldness.

As he finished his work call he closed his laptop, holding his head in his hands for a moment. "Fucking Maple..." He sighed, leaning back with his coffee he lifted his head just as a pamphlet fell from a passer by's bag. He stood to his feet holding it back up to the person. "You dropped this." He offered gently.

Vozes. Vozes preenchiam o refeitório, mas nenhuma era humana. Seus olhos percorriam o lugar, mas sem sucesso em achar sua fonte. Ok. Ok, aquilo definitivamente não era normal. Um leve tremor se espalhou pelo corpo da morena, sem que ela pudesse dizer se era devido ao medo, à surpresa ou à empolgação ante algo do tipo enfim acontecendo. Se fosse um evento organizado pelo próprio acampamento, eles mereciam um prêmio. Não parecia. Congelada em seu lugar com a bandeja do café da manhã esvaziada em mãos, inclinou-se na direção da pessoa ao seu lado.

— É agora que chamamos as Caça-Fantasmas?