#wildstatestarter

Snow was concerned but also a touched revived now that his form filled a new, healthy body. The world looked entirely different from a cat’s perspective. Only standing a foot tall off of the ground at best. Without the broad frame, limited senses, and vile illness he felt more alert. To have control was essential. The reaper would allow itself to miss the prized human vessel later.

Muttering off in French, Celeste moved towards the front. “Did you need something?” The person had just cut her break short, real short, her food hadn’t even been placed in the microwave in the back yet. But unfortunately for her, Snow was indisposed and she was the only other one scheduled for the tattoo shop.

“This town is starting to look like a scene from Fallout,” Akumi mouthed in-between sips of her homemade smoothie - the only concoction she’d drink these days because at least she knew where the water was coming from. Though ill herself, the trickster only contracted a less serious version of the infection and was thus feeling well enough to go out and about but still hid her sensitive eyes behind a large, dark pair of sunglasses. “Everyone is either inside sick, or inside and paranoid about getting sick. Except me, and you. Is there any particular reason you’ve ventured out into the wasteland?”

“What an exciting time of year,” Cora remarked as she saw an interaction between two girls on the street squealing over the bottles of various-colored liquids in their hands. The demon knew all too well what kind of game imps loved to play, and she herself couldn’t help but join in by sending more ignorant fools their way. “You know, I hear those imps have got some pretty remarkable stuff.”

The genie sneezed, the sound of fingers snapping being heard and a poof of blue, sparkly smoke appearing. “Pardon me,” they said to the person next to them, a flower appearing in their hands. With a sigh, she wiggled it in front of their companion. “For you, I suppose.”

“Aw... hello again.” The clerk announced, voice reaching slightly over a speaker stand that made its home only feet from the record store’s entry way. Though his smile remained hidden behind a dark but always groomed beard, there was no mistaking the sound of it as he asked with some sense of amusement, “Did you forget something?” Wrecker’s Records held a sound for everyone, but only a special sort came back in to browse an hour after their first.

“It seems our misfortune might be lightening up,” Thaliea explained as she plastered up a poster on the front window of the bakery. On in it, the phrase “Let the Good Times Roll!” was surrounded by various icons of bread and pastries on a teal background. It marketed half off discounts in celebration of the cure, and also, because the bakery needed the business. “I know it might be a little too early to be celebrating - but I couldn’t resist the pun.”