undergrounds | oh dear; oh dear (open post)

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oh dear; oh dear (open post)

JUNE 4; PLAYGROUND

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>

Threaded | Flat

Heiji hadn't been looking to run into anyone this morning, but the trail of petals was something nearly impossible for him to miss. He followed the trail over to its terminus, then looked around.

"Friend of yours?" he asked.

It's just past twilight when Cooper appears at the coffee shop. He likes his coffee black and with plenty of sugar in it. He looks around, but when he can't find Clara, he ventures outside. Maybe she's next door. Despite the late hour, there's still a few children going back & forth on the swings and climbing all over the jungle gym. Their parents are letting them get their excess energy Cooper gets one or two glances, looking a bit out of place in the setting.

It takes him moment to find who he's looking for. He heads on over, warm coffee clasped between his unusually cold hands. "Feelin' a bit maternal this evening?"

It's not unusual for him to be out this early, nor even in this location. It's the fact that he lingers after finishing his own personal business that's somewhat out of character, perhaps driven to introspection in a place like this by not only his new discovery of the world of the underground itself, but by even having the chance to meet a ghost in person. Every tombstone looks different now, accompanied with the feeling of being watched.

It drives Sasuke to want to pay respects to each of them, even if only in the way of passing thoughts... but the sight of the flowers in particular lures him in. Only when he crouches closer to read the names inscribed into stone does he pause, the cold bearing down on him and making his bones ache.

"... Is someone here?"

The fun thing is that most people assume Hunters go around beheading people for paychecks. The truth is that's just the high-risk end of the pool. A lot of it is just writing reports, or taking up observation posts, or just looking into a situation to see if it's worth something more. It's just questioning witnesses and abusing the human weakness of feelings to get out more than they meant to.

The coat is different. Same with the unforgiving presence and the stern look. The groundskeeper is dismissed with at least the illusion of manners (Thank you for taking the time from your job. Of course, sir, anytime) but there's still that annoyance. It's just flowers, nothing malignant, being a Rank 1 is irritating, he hates these jobs, might equalize it just on principle-

Except. The names. The entire aura flakes off into nothing upon reading it.

Seville.

He doesn't even turn around. The cold doesn't bother him, locking joints are normal of course- But just the same, he knows she's there.

"Your husband?"

Danil had a bit of time before his shift started and he found himself strolling to a coffee shop. It wasn't too uncommon of an occurrence for him; there was something comforting about the atmosphere of such places. Perhaps it was the warm press of humanity that demanded nothing more than just it's sheer presence. The illusion of companionship with the safety of isolation.

As soon as he slipped inside there was something...off. A chill that slipped across his skin, the hairs at his arms standing stiffly up for a few moments. He frowned, rubbing at his arms shaking his head a little and made his way to the back of the place, settling into one of the soft, worn armchairs in the back. He pulled out a battered ipod, a frown crossing his face at the dark screen. A frustrated sigh slipped past his lips and he started to fiddle with the old piece of technology.

Threaded | Flat

JUNE 5; GRAVEYARD (MORNING)

JUNE 4; PLAYGROUND

June 5; Graveyard

i see dead people

JUNE 5; COFFERS' SHOP (AFTERNOON)