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undergrounds2015-06-02 09:17 pm
oh dear; oh dear (open post)
There's a playground. Well, there a lot of playgrounds across the city. What makes this one right next to Coffers' Shop a bit more special than the other out there is this: Accidents.
It's not unheard of playgrounds to have the occasional accidents. It's who is the heart of the possible problem for this one.
Parents love it for the fact it's so safe for their kids there. They can drop their rowdiest youngsters at that spot and never worry about a scratch or bruise by the time they come back to pick them up.
Other adults though? The ones who shouldn't be lingering around or have too much interest in watching the kids? If you're not a babysitter for any of the children, there's a strong chance something may happen to you. Especially if you have an unfortunate reputation among the regulars there. At least the occasional sharp trip or tumble to the ground won't harm you that badly. A scuff or bruise but nothing too serious.
JUNE 5; GRAVEYARD (MORNING)
This part of the cemetery doesn't get a lot of attention. Compared to the ornate statues of angels weeping or grand mausoleums, the humble headstones and markers pale in comparison to them and often get little attention.
The row of tombstones here all belong to a small family, the (supposed) only surviving member studying not having quite enough time to pay her respects to the family she barely remembers. As a result it gets no notice, not attention besides the groundskeeper who keeps weeds off all the grounds.
Yet, in the early hours, some passerby may notice a trail of petals from a patch of wildflowers, outside of the cemetery, leading to the tombstones. This happens now and then. Not enough times to be reported on but enough times that the groundskeeper, if asked, will mention he's no longer surprised by the presence of tidy bushels of flowers on the graves. Someone is only paying their respects for them. There's no harm in that.
Plus he has no interest in going near it during these times. Not when it's so eerily cold that it makes his teeth chatter and his body shake if he's only a few feet from it. The coldness, in his opinion if ever asked, is the worst when near the one that happens to be marked FRANCISCO SEVILLE.
JUNE 5; COFFERS' SHOP (AFTERNOON)
... Is the shop chillier than usual? It seems to be with how when someone enters and they immediately shiver, rubbing their arms to ward off the chills.
The air-conditioning is strong but never this strong.
Those who go here regularly, from customers who come by everyday to and employees themselves, are having a hard time focusing on their works as they shiver and struggle to get the usually reliable free wi-fi to work on them or to get the coffee machine to cooperate for this one cup.
If asked if this happens a lot, some will say yes and some will be unsure but there's a general agreement in the air that this is not normal. The source of the coldness is hard to explain. The coldest spot changes from near the counter to the furthest corner or right outside the door.
Almost like it was... moving on its own.
[ OOC: Or make your own scenario in your comment! Prose and brackets welcomed! ]</td></tr></tbody></table>
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"Goodness that will terrify them!" Not that's totally oppose of the idea. She would hate to do that, giving them the heebie jeebies, but they should learn sooner rather than later that this is not a place for games. There's a time and place for everything. "Everyone has their reasons for coming here but they best be sensible reasons, not trying to outdare their friends and make the groundskeeper's job any harder than it should be."
"... With that said, I didn't expect to see you here," she says, not exactly asking a question because she felt like it would be too invasive. All the same-- "This isn't the world's most known cemetery after all. No Tolkien or Lewis or Doyle among these rows of headstones."
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Though the smile falls off at the unsaid question with, "Doyle's a hack."
It's distracted, because there's no way to properly answer it. It's a very precise line of separation; defined by the coat and gloves and the heartless monster act. A difference between a surname and a title, a person and a concept, but mostly importantly it was that one defined rule. Keep business and home as far apart as possible. It's a compartmentalizing that works perfectly.
Up until moments like this. Where it'd be easy to refuse to answer, except it's Clara. She's a good person. He's legitimately fond of her. Dodging the question is unacceptable, and it always just felt wrong to lie to her.
"Fifty quid. Investigate the headstones in question for supernatural activity; observation, resolution, file report. Low threat level, priority dispatch unnecessary." The entire statement is more directed to her husband's headstone than to Clara, with a specific brand of monotone she's never encountered before. It might be just frigid enough to match the cold air she leaves with her tricks, "Rather standard procedure.
"I've been trying to clear the more ridiculous backlog. This one, it's obviously just a visitor, but it's paranoia layered on top of the yearly notion that you have something to do with the disappearing kids. Except that's obviously the Fae. Only idiots like Them would keep thinking otherwise."
It's brittle and unfeeling and could almost be confused for an entirely different person. But more importantly, gives enough context clues for Clara to answer her own unasked question.
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It's just. It throws her off a bit with how her eyebrows knit together and she tries to understand the meaning behind his words, what he's trying to say under the statements and facts.
Clara never did know what he did for a living outside of the vague notions of projects and assignments. A moment like this makes her wonder if she wants to really know or if he wants her to know. Ignorance is bliss after all and she has to remember they live in a world that isn't always the safest place.
"Oh. I see." There's a bit of sheepishness in her tone as she looks at him, solemn for a second. Then she smiles because that's Clara, always trying to find the good in something for someone. Especially for someone she cares and worries for like Willard. "Well-- I'm glad it was me. I would hate for you to have to deal with anything so serious at this hour. I don't know if you had a proper cup of coffee to get through the day!"