#the27percent

❝Oh, sorry, that was me.❞

Probably an odd thing to say in response to a light metal clank, but what can you do? Not everyone knew how to repair things like he was, and he just didn't have the time to get back yet and do it himself.

❝Busted internal pipe, what can ya do?❞

Ryuji had enjoyed the chance to help out and decorate just a little bit - while it was true that not many places went all out and decorated on Halloween, it felt nice just to help out and put up some decorations around - a little way to spread the Halloween spirit, so to speak!

Untangling a string of lights that had several small plastic skulls going across it, Ryuji found himself humming in agreement as he nodded even though his back was turned to Atieno.

"The pool's closed."

The pool is not closed, but Shane is blocking the door, which he's likewise barricaded with multiple trashcans and a plank he's slipped through the door handles like he's barricading against a zombie horde. From the panicked look on his face, maybe he is...?

"Come back another-"

BANG! Something big and heavy hits that door...from the inside.

He blows his whistle as loudly as he can, as if that's going to drown out the first thump, and then the second.

"-DAY!"

"plenty of things bother me, babe." though it is very clear that that one particular thing they mentioned got stuck in his mind a little more than the others. still, he takes a few seconds to elaborate. "—but yeah, the prospect of another omniscient freak just lurking amidst everything at all times just when i thought i got off the radar that freak above has — yeah, that bothers me a fuckton, actually."

"Huh, funny. I don't think I remember this shop even bein' here."

Stooping to a lower shelf, Clear brightened when he saw an old portable DVD player collecting dust. It wasn't the most glamorous item on any of its shelves, but Atieno was one of those people who hardly cared. He possessed a similar interest in trekking off the beaten path. Even if it wasn't that far off.

A name is a hell of a thing, the Nosferatu thinks to himself. The years get muddy, a century was a long time. McCole is almost certain that he's spent more years now under his new name than he ever had being called 'Michael Hawkins.' In this unlife, it only felt right to let that name die with the human, and take up a new name as a Kindred.

A cigarette hangs loosely out of his maw, before a bony finger readjusts it to take a drag from it. All these years, and it's still the closest thing he has to breathing again.

"McCole is fine." That was the name he chose for himself, after all. This one is... strange. Not human, if he had to guess. Enough time in the dark and one starts to get an instinct for things like that.

You know what for fun send 🃏 and I'll do my best to make a poker night at the inventory cast for your muse

if you agree or disagree with who I pick is completely fine 👍 this is just for funies

The dealer

"I'm so sorry I hit you! My little creations were distracting me!" Gloved hands are to his hips as he takes a moment to glare at a pair of noisy experiments, now both in the corner of the flying saucer in shame. They get the time-out corner for a little while.