Logs:Assignments & Appointments

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Assignments & Appointments

Characters: Charity, MacKenzie, Mingzhu, Molly & Slip
Date: 2020-04-15
Summary: Things are getting done at the the community center.

Some of the freehold's positions have been filled, and the appropriate announcement has been made. The chamberlain has requested a meeting with the appointed ambassadors. An informal meeting, by the look of it. Slip hasn't even bothered to get out of her pajamas, still wearing her grey plaid pants and an oversized tee shirt which reads HELP ME I'M SOBER without any thought for shoes or make-up or doing anything more than running a hand through her hair. There might be some smudged make-up clinging from the night before, the dark circles under her eyes emphasized by eyeliner she really should've washed off already, and a few accessories she hasn't removed, including a small locker key hanging from her neck. What she--or maybe somebody else--has manage so far this morning is a fresh pot of coffee, of which she already has a mug in hand as she sits with her legs folded in one corner of the couch, fussing with her phone.

Into the Community Centre comes Mingzhu, her arrival heralded by the sound of stiletto heels on the sidewalk. Sharply dressed in a white pinstriped suit, she pauses just inside to remove her sunglasses, a polite smile directed Slip's way as she passes through towards the kitchen area, to pour two mugs of coffee.

Oversized sunglasses are pulled off and dropped into the black suede hobobag that dangles from Charity's left shoulder. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, from the look of things. That doesn't stop her from perking up more, when the scent of coffee hits her. A quick detour to get a mug herself, and then she's flashing a toothy grin. "Hello, hello," comes in that crisp British accent.

How do these people manage to look so put together at this hour of the morning? Well, Slip, it probably helps that they've actually slept at some point and are just starting their days rather than lingering at the tail end of a long night. The darkling yawns mightily, phone clasped in the hand that she turns backwards to cover her mouth before issuing a sleepy but friendly, "Mornin'." Looking between them, her pale-eyed attention settles on Mingzhu as she notes, "I don't think we were properly introduced," though what follows extends to them both. "Slip. Chamberlain. Uh. Sorry. That's my title, not my surname." Which she doesn't provide. "We've got a little work for you both, if you're up for it."

Adding cream and sugar to both mugs, Mingzhu passes one to Charity, then moves to sit on the couch opposite Slip, settling comfortably with one leg crossed over the other. "Indeed. Baak Mingzhu, now the ambassador from here to deadsville," she returns in kind, her smile brief. "Of course. I have some questions too, so we'll have plenty to discuss," she affirms, nodding to Slip's mention of work.

"And you've both met me, if only briefly," Charity muses, after giving murmured thanks to the other woman for the mug. She meanders over to the more green of the available couches, sitting on the edge of the cushion. "Same," she adds on the tail end of Mingzhu's words. "Trying to get as caught up with the local situation as possible, but the rub is I've not managed to find many that aren't freshly wandering in."

Slip breathes a quiet laugh, little more than a half-awake huff with a lazy smile to mark her amusement. She drops her phone to the arm of the couch beside her, face down, and wraps her other hand around her mug as well, keeping that still-steaming warmth close as she breathes it in. No cream. One finger extends to that mug to point toward Charity. "Yeah, and that's kinda the thing. Until a few months ago? There weren't any Lost in New Orleans. Started trickling in around November, by my understanding. I've been here since January, and there's been a big swell this spring. Now." Sip. Mmm. "If we want to be properly recognized as part of the city's unique supernatural community, we need to be part of the Accords. We want that done before the seasons change. Because we don't want to be oathbound to abide while the rest of the Accorded community very much aren't. But before we make our pitch, we want some info. Anything going on in the other communities. ANy frictions between them, within them, how they feel about us..." She trails off and looks, for a second, like she might mean to add something else, but if there was more to the thought, she lost it and opts, instead, to just drink some more coffee.

There is a thoughtful nod from the Telluric. "How much information are we permitted to give them?" she asks in return. "Not about our internal politics per-se, but the basic facts of what we are. My experience is that understanding the basics will make them a lot more comfortable with the nature of our existence, rather than thinking of us as 'fairies'." She takes a sip from her mug and glances to Charity.

Charity purses her lips in a bit of thought, before she takes a sip of that coffee. "Is there a why behind that? Because I can't imagine the whole of the Lost just randomly deciding that New Orleans wouldn't be a lovely place to visit." She shifts on the cushion a bit, as if staying still is not one of her strongest points. "I'm lucky in that I came here with two wolves - it will make it that much easier for me to get a bit of info on the locals in that regard. But I'll make myself known to them, all official-like." A nod towards Mingzhu, at her own question.

"As much as you're comfortable with," Slip offers easily, seemingly untroubled at the prospect of spilling, oh, everything with the other supers. At least until she adds, "Except maybe not too much about Arcadia or the Gentry or the Hedge. We don't need anyone wandering into the Hedge or thinking that making deals with powerful inhuman entities that want to feed off the hopes and dreams of humanity while kidnapping its population for their perverse pleasures is something they should do. And I find that no matter how much you say something is awful, people who haven't been there just don't get it." She purses her lips flatly, a note of rather humorless amusement. "But I trust your judgment."

With that, she takes a deep breath, shoulders sinking on the exhale. "Our court investigator got pulled away." A genuine frown pulls at her lips ever so briefly. "Nobody else has really taken up the task yet, but I do have some thoughts on that. Not on what happened, but on where to begin. But our situation with the Accords, where we're Wyrd-bound to an agreement that doesn't fully acknowledge us? That's priority number one."

"I understand," Mingzhu confirms. "Do we have a list of known Vampires anywhere? Do they have an established diplomat that we are aware of? And likewise of the wolves, I suppose?" she enquires, glancing down to her phone and drawing up her to-do list app, beginning to make vague notes.

A tug of teeth between her lips, before Charity speaks again. "My wolves know ...most of what I can remember. I haven't been back, all that long. My sister killed my Fetch." There's a grin, there. Pride. Good wolf. "Yes, let's get us out of that arrangement as soon as we can." She rests her mug on the arm of the couch, mming softly. "The wolves will have a Protectorate. They'll be where I start some sniffing around."

"I know a few of each," Slip mutters, wide eyes going briefly wider as she stares at an absent point. It doesn't sound like she expects that to be particularly helpful. Refocusing on Charity, she nods encouragingly. "I figure they've all got to have something like that. The equivalent of a freehold. Right?" Looking back to Mingzhu, she offers, "I can introduce you to my boss, if you'd like. Mr. Lovell. Owns the Eventide."

"I'd appreciate that," Mingzhu confirms to the offer of an introduction., lifting her mug of coffee to sip from again. "Yeah, I'd guess so," she then adds to the comment of Freehold equivalents in the other major races. "The Accords mentioned another race. 'Begotten of the Hive'? I don't know what those are, but I didn't see mention of an ambassador to those people being appointed." Apparently yes she's read them, even if she hasn't signed up herself just yet.

"Yeah, no idea what a Hive is either, I don't think," Charity says with a chuckle. "Didn't know if it was just a matter of different terminology, on this side of the pond." She taps ringed fingers against her mug, thoughtfully. "Most groups are going to need some sort of leadership, be it a singular or council type thing, I imagine."

"I caught that, too," Slip notes dryly after nodding to Mingzhu to confirm the pending introduction. "I've wondered, idly, if there might be some connection with their apparent disappeance and our resurgence, but I wouldn't want to assume. Either way, the documentation seems out of date, and when we push for our inclusion, we should see to it that the whole thing is updated." Beat. "Though I do appreciate the maintenance of a historical archive to document the city's shifting population and politics." Maybe the sleepy, dressed-down darkling isn't as casual and careless as she presents. "Might be worth asking the locals. Whatever you find. About... any of this. You can report to me or Ian directly. Or Jacob. I don't know if you've met him. Accent not too far off from yours." With a tip of her head toward Charity. "He's helping coordinate our approach for the Accords."

"No term I've ever heard of. Magic bees, maybe?" Mingzhu muses, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her phone beeps; she glances down at the screen and then rises, setting her half-empty coffee mug to one side. "Excuse me, please. I need to take this. I'll be back in a few minutes." She heads out onto the sidewalk, so that whoever she's speaking to doesn't accidently overhear Lost-related discussions.

"I haven't met Jacob yet, know. Just the man in the shiny hat, those in this room, and those that were at the pool. More's the pity. I'll have to change that, especially if there's another Brit wandering about." Charity sips coffee, and mms. "I'll see what I can dig up, when I meet another actual local. No good signing an outdated bit of metaphysical paper that makes us beholden to things that may or may not even be here any longer."

Slip follows Mingzhu's departure with the pivot of an ear, shamelessly eavesdropping, without even thinking, a matter of old, ingrained habit. "I think he's here with his sister, too," she says of Jacob, though there doesn't seem to be any uncertainty in her tone. Another habit: softening the impeccability of her memory in meaningless words. "She's not one of us either." Another nod precedes more coffee-sipping. "The oath was a temporary measure. An act of goodwill toward the Wardens. It was their request, that we include it in our oaths. Asked right before the equinox." Which gave them all of zero time to address the request before the oath needed to be sworn. "I think that puts us in a good position going in, but more information will help." She starts toward another sip before getting snagged on another thought. "I can introduce you to another werewolf or two. If that'd help."

"I find it interesting that they knew enough to ask us to add it to the oath," Charity opines. A slight furrow of brow, before she reaches up to take off her floppy hat. The lupine ears a bit more obvious, there, given more room to stand up and swivel about. "I'd appreciate the introduction, yes. Right now me and mine are trying to decide where it's...appropriate to settle, given the given of wolf politics."

Coming back in from outside, Mingzhu retakes her seat and reclaims her mug of coffee. "Sorry about that. Who knows enough about what?" she enquires, trying to catch up.

MacKenzie comes in from the road, sliding her jacket off. A nod is given to the others gathered as she moves to the fridge to procure a soda. Curious, she makes her way to a chair and turns it about to sit in it backwards, listening quietly.

At the moment, three lost--two of which are fully dressed, though vastly differently, and one of whom is still very much in her pajamas, the tee shirt of which laments her sobriety--sit in the common room of the community center, all with coffee near at hand. There's a pot on in the kitchen, the bittersweet scent filling the space pleasantly. Slip, the darkling who looks as if she either just got out of bed or was maybe on her way there, nods to Charity and notes, "I've met... quite a few, actually. Ran into a pack, or part of one, in the park few weeks back and made friends with one of 'em. Real nice guy. Sort who will feed you lasagna and wine for lunch for no other reason than they think everybody deserves lasagna and wine for lunch." As Mingzhu returns, she summarizes, "The Wardens. That they knew to ask us to include abiding by the Accords in our seasonal oath." As MacKenzie arrives, an ear pivots to follow the stranger, but her gaze remains on the closer pair.

"Sounds like the kind of friend I need in my life," Charity says, flashing a grin with just a bit too much teeth. She can't help that they're sharp. There's a sip from her coffee, and amber eyes close in a second of consideration. But they pop open once there's a new arrival to the room. Looking MacKenzie over, not quite a stare but close. Her gaze swivels back to Slip, and she tilts her head. "If you could either give them my info or pass me along theirs, that'd be lovely."

"Mmmn. That is a good point," Mingzhu agrees, sipping lukewarm coffee and pondering it a bit. Then as MacKenzie enters, she nods and asks, "Did you manage to get something sorted regarding your fetch?"

MacKenzie folds her arms on the back of the chair and nods to Mingzhu, "I did some internet searches and found some of the pictures you were referring to. Its....bizarre and creepy. She is on the Facebook and all that, as me of course" Social media is still a new thing for the Wizened. Raising a hand in a wave, she nods to the other two. "Hi.." Then goes to sips on her soda, caffeine being obtained in the cold beverage instead of coffee.

"Will do," Slip assures of passing on Charity's information to the wolfy sorts she knows. Her gaze dips, briefly, to the beast's sharp teeth, but they don't linger long, quick to trakc the conversation about fetches. Quietly, she murmurs, "I can't even imagine..." One might guess it's a problem she didn't face herself.

Charity glances between Mingzhu and MacKenzie, with a bit of curiosity. Those lupine ears twitch forward, catching the sounds. It's right about then that a vibrating sound comes from the purse at her feet, and she reaches in to grab it. Looking at the screen, there's a sigh. "Speaking of Wolves, I've got to take this. Lovely to see you all." And up, the not-a-wolf goes, gathering her things and stepping out of the room.

"So what do you plan to do about it?" is Mingzhu's question to Mac. "If you want your brother back - the fetch will need to be dealt with."

MacKenzie shrugs slowly, a ratcheting noise from her shoulders quickly clicks until they fall back down again. "I am not sure. I thought to lure her away, to speak with her...then had the though of locking her in the truck of a car and having it compacted at a junk yard." Biting her lip, she sits back a bit, "It has me very concerned."

Molly walks in through the front door, and lets her footsteps lag and drag once she's past the entrance, head tilting and turning with short, sharp motions so her gaze can sweep the place from corner to corner. She's in a black biker jacket over a faded Saints crop top, skinny black jeans, red Converses, clothes somewhere between well broken-in and pretty damned trashed. Her hands are buried in her jacket pockets and stay there as she upnods. In general. To the room at large.

One hand parts from Slip's mug so that she can waggle a wave to the departing sorta-wolf. She keeps an ear toward Mingzhu and MacKenzie's conversation about the moral complexity of dealing with fetches, but doesn't seem inclined to chime in. Not until the well-dressed moon wanders off again. Dryly, she notes, "This is why I keep my phone on silent." She flashes a smile to Mac, that same lazy amiability angled toward Molly as she arrives. The darkling looks like she possibly hasn't slept or isn't wholly awake, last night's make-up still smudged and faded. She's in grey pajama pants and an oversized grey tee shirt which declares HELP ME I'M SOBER. Very, very sober, if the coffee brewing in the kitchen is any indication. Plucking up her phone and shoving it in a pocket--because fantasy pajamas can always have pockets--she heads back toward the kitchen for a top off. "Sounds like a difficult situation. I don't think anyone here would fault you for going the trash-compactor route." Once she has her coffee poured, it gets a bit of sugar before she turns to the other two and offers, "Slip. Ian's chamberlain, for the time being. Hi."

MacKenzie flashes a metallic smile and nod. "MacKenzie. I just arrived last month. Working in a garage with another Lost. Met a few here and a few around, so still trying to get settled." Finishing her soda, she crinkles the can and thinks. "I'm an inventor...tinkerer, repairer, so if you need anything fixed, let me know."

Molly stops, rubbing one leg with the side of one foot, and glances between the other two Lost with slight jerks of her head. "Name's Molly. I'm - I've been around, but I've had a - I had a thing? Back now, though. Nice to meet y'all," she frees one hand from a jacket pocket to wave. It's a friendly gesture, thin smile on her lips and all, it's just the black talons tipping each of her long fingers don't necessarily look friendly. She stuffs the hand back into a pocket and heads towards the kitchen area again. "I don't really have a - thing I do," she adds after a pause. If not a local, the woman's drawl likely places her origin within a couple hundred miles.

Slip takes up a perch not terribly far from the coffee pot with her rear resting against the counter as she sips. Teensy sips, with the coffee hot as it is, freshly poured. "Might be worth reaching out to Miss Stasya," she notest to MacKenzie. "Quartermaster and cupcake-maker. She might like to know that there's someone with your talents around, in case there's ever need." Her accent is definitely not local. Probably somewhere east coast, but not properly southern. With a hint of a smile, she asks Molly, "What about things you like doing?" airily enough to imply she's not necessarily asking after properly responsible sorts of things. Yeah, her mantle's spring, the air around her holding all the promise of an exciting night out while she looks like she's taking the day slow at the other end of it, maybe nursing a mild hangover.

Returning from that second call, Mingzhu settles herself back down, finishing off her now-tepid coffee. "Some clients can be really clingy," she murmurs, then looks to Molly, who came in while she was out. "Morning."

MacKenzie looks over to Molly. "Oh hi there. I'm MacKenzie. Inventor, tinkerer...etc. Great to meet you, meet all of you. Its been an odd journey so far. I finally got a job in an autoshop, so I can pitch in on money if thats needed. I...am just staying here for now, but if anyone needs any help, let me know, Id be glad to. And yeah, I'll reach out to....Stasya you said?"

Molly stops by a refrigerator, pulls it open, closes it again, glances back over her shoulder with a snappy motion, staring at Mingzhu for a moment or two. "Morning," she calls back, cracks the slightest of smiles, then looks back towards Slip and stares. Things she likes doing. Her brow furrows ever so slightly, as she turns back to the refrigerator, pulling it open and leaning in. "Well, I was born in a mountain and raised in a cave," she starts. "So." She continues. She pulls back with a beer in hand and cracks it open. "Outdoor activities."

Slip meets Molly's stare with a lazy curiosity, patient interest. When the taloned woman turns away, her gaze strays back to Mingzhu with a small smile, then over to MacKenzie to nod at her mention of accommodations and her repetition of the recommended contact. "A lot of the things I like doing, I like doing outdoors," comes her airy reply for Molly, to whom she lifts her mug upon spying her selection from the fridge, approving.

"Mmn. That sounds like the start of a blues song," Mingzhu muses as to Molly's mountain and cave background. She rises, taking her mug in hand and heading to the kitchen to wash it up. "Slip, when do you think you'll be able to get me that introduction?" she enquires of the chancellor, wiping her hands dry before checking her phone again.

MacKenzie hops up from her chair, heading back into the kitchen for a bottle of water this time. "I don't think I've ever been to a mountain. I guess another thing I havn't done yet. " Cracking open the bottle. "I'll need to get with one of you to find out the better parts of town to be in. Looking for a spot to set down and...Id rather find a spot that was safe for our kind."

Molly lowers her face slightly and grins, eyes darting up in Mingzhu's direction. "It's something like that," she says, before forcing the smile off with a small shrug, taking the first sip off her beer before wandering back to the living area. "I mean, I'm just real normal," she adds with a one-shouldered shrug, then climbs up onto a couch. Not that she sits on it like a normal person. She parks herself up on top of the backrest, one leg hanging off the side, the other pulled up to her chest. "I like birds."

"I'll reach out today." Slip tilts her mug in the suggestion of a shrug as she corrects noncommitally, "Tonight. You can always swing by the Eventide, too, and ask for Mr. Lovell. He's pretty pragmatic, in my limited experience." As MacKenzie asks for advice about town, she looks around the lot of 'em, lingering a moment longer on Molly's peculiar perch, and murmurs, "Don't know if any of us are gonna make great tour guides, but I don't expect anywhere's less safe than another for us in particular. The Accords seem to cut down some--" Though likely not all or maybe even most. "--bullshit territory squabbles and posturing, so it's unlikely you'll end up with some angry monster yelling at you for renting a place in their perceived space."

"I might just do that. If you can leave a message letting him know I'll be coming by, that would be useful," Mingzhu nods to Slip, tucking her phone away. "But for now, I need to continue my review of the city. Unless there was anything else you wanted to cover while you've got me?" she adds.

MacKenzie pauses a moment as she looks to the others. "So..um..these accords, they are with like...people who can like, turn into wolves? I think I may have met one. Either that he was a hedgebeast but...it didnt feel like that." Wrinkling her nose, "He had sunglasses and a joint..as a wolf."

Molly nods her head, one clawed thumb poking at where her jeans are torn across the knee. The other hand brings the beer up for a sip, gaze flicking to MacKenzie, eyebrows arching slightly. After a quiet, thoughtful pause, she adds. "There's vampires, too. Mostly seen wolf things, but - I don't know, maybe vampires hang out in places I can't afford?"

"I will," Slip assures Mingzhu with just enough gravity to indicate it very much will be done. A slight shake of her head follows. "That's all for now. We'll get this Accords business wrapped up and then move on to bigger mysteries." With a lift of her mug, she sorta toasts the illuminated winter, marking her gratitude for the help so far. With a nod to Molly, she confirms, "There are vampires. Only place I've seen 'em is the club where I work. The Eventide. A little weird? But gracious, pragmatic. In my limited experience so far." She gestures with her mug toward the departing Mingzhu. "Our ambassador to the vampires." Looking to MacKenzie, she notes, "Charity. The blonde in black who took off already? She's our ambassador to the werewolves. Already has an in. They've all seemed real friendly so far, the wolves I've met."

With that confirmation, Mingzhu nods, lifts her hand in a vague wave goodbye to the room, and then takes her leave, reducing the ratio of M-names in the room down to a safer level.

MacKenzie considers, "Ok, so we have ambassadors for ..vampires and wolves. Do we have one for like, normal humans? Just curious." Hopping up onto the counter, her legs kick softly. "I'd be glad to help out somewhere, but dunno what I would be needed for."

Molly runs her claws back trough her fingers, carefully, and looks thoughtful over her beer, shifting in place on her perch between sips. Then she blinks, and gives MacKenzie a bemused look. "Like, to the mayor?" A hand comes up in a slight shrug. "Not real sure how that would work. You'd need a lot of ambassadors. Ambassador to the mayor's office, ambassador to the police department, ambassador to Walmart."

Slip breathes a quiet laugh into her coffee at Molly's take on mortal ambassadors, a long sip taken before she draws the mug back down. "We don't, not yet, but we're looking." With a nod toward Molly and her eyes on Mackenzie, she adds, "It's definitely a bigger population. Small number of Accorded mortals, people who are either weird in their own unusual way or otherwise in the know or sponsored by another signatory, but then the whole of normal human culture. Someone to handle bail money and cover-ups and whatever. I can't imagine we won't need more than one person to handle all of that, but nobody's stepped up yet. If you're interested." She gestures toward the community message board where contact information is posted, the listing of openings and appointments up there too.

MacKenzie looks over at the board then hops down, padding over to it. "So would this be like to clean up if some normal person sees a contract or things like that?" Focusing on the board. "Who do I contact to talk about it with?"

Molly glances over at the board as she listens to the explanation, tracing a claw under her jaw as she thinks about it. "Think maybe you oughta get, like, a lawyer or something doing that job? Or, hell, someone rich who can just hire a lawyer, that'll do it." She leans back, shifting her weight partly onto a hand gripping the backrest she's perched on.

"And to kinda get a feel for the Accorded mortal community. If there is such a thing?" Slip doesn't seem sure if there is or even could be. Covens of necromancers? Cabals of psychics? Maybe it'll be up to the Ambassador to figure that out. Either way, she raises her hand, volunteering as a point of contact. Pointing to Molly, she nods. "That'd be fantastic, yeah, but I'll take anyone who's sociable and willing to do the legwork."

MacKenzie considers then nods. "Maybe I'll just fix things. I'd be glad to help but I don't have the legal chops you are talking about. I'll see." Shrugging, she goes back to her previous spot. "I have stuff to iron out anyway having just found my Fetch here in town."

Molly nods as she listens. "Yeah, never let the perfect be the enemy of the 'alright, that'll hold for now'," she comments, head turning for a quick check of the exits. Just in case. They're still there, and nothing's breaching them. "Couldn't be me. I could barely work retail without tearing someone's throat out," the beclawed woman notes before another long sip of beer, this one ending with a quiet sigh.

"Which is pretty much the situation we're in now," Slip mutters with wry amusement on the wake of Molly's observation about making due. She probably means that whole business with the Accords being acknowledge in the freehold pledge, but the freehold not being acknowledge in the Accords. One of her hair-hidden ears tracks the harpy as she scans the exits, no glance that way as she poses, "You might wanna meet up with Odette, then," without any clarification as to why, but the ballerina is listed as the Militia Commander on the postings. To MacKenzie, she adds, "There's really no need for expertise, but I get it. That's a lot to deal with."

MacKenzie hops back up. "Well...um...sure, I'll go for it. I mean, heck, its not like I'll be alone and I see normal people everyday. I'll try it out and see how decent I am. Who do I need to tell..ask...sing to, about it." Wincing, "Dont ask me to sing though."

Molly finishes her beer, a wry grin as she looks after MacKenzie for a second, then eyes the board. "Yeah! It's just people. Just go up to someone, say hi, that's ambassading," she comments with approval, then drags her gaze back to Slip. The smallest of frowns sets on her face, an eyebrow cocked as her head tilts sharply to the left. "Odette? What, for drinks?"

Slip straightens with MacKenzie volunteers for the Ambassador position, presenting a slightly more official air. Nevermind the dark circles under her eyes or the bare feet. Or pajamas. Or the protest of sobriety on her tee. Again, she raises her hand to note her suitability for receiving this news. "I'm Chamberlain to the Crown. Right hand. Assistant." Her shrug's an uneven thing. "And if you're taking up the position, I'll set you to the same work as the other two, reaching out to start building our ties, to get a feel for what the community's like. If there is one. I can hook you up with a Black Constable of my acqaintance, if you're up for it." Looking to Molly, she nods. "Drinks," agreeably. "And maybe about the militia. Setting those throat-tearing tendencies to hopefully infrequent use. If you're so inclined."

MacKenzie nods, "That sounds good. I'll start getting a feel of things." Pausing, "Um..thanks. I'll let you know what I find out. " Hopping back down. "I should go check on some things, but if you need anything, let me know. I left my cellular phone number on the board there." With a smirk, she heads out.

"Jeeze, you make it sound like I'm a serial killer!" Molly lets out with a gasp and half a shrill cackle in Slip's direction. "Fuck! I just - ugh, don't have the cool to work retail, is all. Or bouncing. Or stripping." The beer can in her hand gets slowly crushed against her knee. Maybe it's for recycling. But then the Summer glances back at the board and shrugs. "Sure, why not?" And she hops off her perch, arms stretching out wide at her sides.

Slip smiles wide at Molly for that cackle, for the explanation that follows. "I'll putcha down. And... see you at the party on Saturday?" A hint of optimism from the sleepy spring. She turns, then, and sees to washing up her mug and turning off the coffee pot, rather than leaving it there to get all burnt and gnarly. With that, though, she heads... well, out back. Toward the pool? More likely to one of the units at the far end of the property.