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 Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 6:58 am
Huxtable Keighley hadn't attended college for nearly six years now. He squinted at the marquee proclaiming the job fair, rubbing the rough bristles of his beard as he decided whether or not a thirty-two year old nobody from out of town would be allowed at such an event. He certainly wasn't dressed the part. The tan-skinned man glanced down at his dirty white t-shirt, at his holes-in-the-knees jeans, at his scuffed brown boots. The smell of food broke him from his line of self-deprecating thought and he looked back up at the marquee for only one more minute before entering the library, the sound of his boots thunk-thunking onto the threshold proclaiming his entrance. He tucked a long, long strand of dark brown behind his ear with a work-roughened hand as he surveyed the humble collegiate gathering.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:07 am
One of the booth's attendants there seemed confused by her animosity. It seemed that the retched man she'd met before had not spread the word about her, as she had assumed. Perhaps she could coerce this gentlemen to see things her way. However, the horrid man in question was in fact right there. Drat. "Can you?" She parroted back, stepping purposefully forward. "I was beginning to assume this business was not actually in the business of helping." She said this with a sweet voice dripping with venom, her brows arched high with indignation and self importance. Her gaze did not once slip to glare at Algie more than the once. Adamantly she chose to ignore his presence as best she could. "Teasing, taunting and rudeness seemed more your forte, in conjunction with untidiness and unorganized bookkeeping."
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:23 am
SHE might not have been giving look’s Alg’s way, but Zac certainly did again. Really confused, really tired versus cranky little princess – go. Be polite… be polite; GOD stay polite to her. “I’m fairly sure you’d be memorable enough that I’d know if I were part of such an encounter.” He said cautiously. “Did the person in question not find what you were looking for? Or if we were out did they fail to offer to order the item in question in?”
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:26 am
Chel was possibly one of the last people Shun wanted to see here. He closed his eyes for a few moments, drawing in a deep breath. "Are you actually seeking a job at the precinct, or is your sole purpose coming to the booth to badger me?" he asked flatly. Glancing down, he picked up one of the handouts and shoved it over. He hoped she wasn't planning on applying. If she got a job there, he'd probably end up running into her a lot more.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:30 am
"Oh, he found it alright." She said with a huff. "In fact, he claimed it to be a lost item, as if he'd never seen it before. And then," this word came out as if the story would unfold into injustice and tragedy, "he walked away without helping me and began to read the magazine flippantly at the counter." Kitty whipped out a fan from her purse and cooled herself off with it, her cheeks pinking with rage. "To add insult to injury he suggested I try a shop with a lesser intelligence cap. As if I was some vagrant who happened upon his establishment. Honestly, I was not treated with respect at all. He was rude, and arrogant. All I did was point out that he ought to keep his inventory better organized."
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:43 am
What…the hell was a ‘lesser intelligence cap? “So, he –found- the item for you, but it wasn’t something he recognized, so it was declared a lost item, and while he found it, he needs to be better organized.” He said carefully. He was hoping rather against hope that she might see the circular logic there. “Do you mind if I ask, the item? I assist with ordering sometimes, and I might recognize if it was something we do normally carry.” He had his hands on the counter, fingers curled under the edge of it so she couldn’t see, and hopefully couldn’t hear fingernails scraping there as he tried…tried so damned hard to stay polite. “Would you like a water.” He added as she fanned her self. God don’t take the water, he thought as soon as he offered, he wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t be chucked back at him.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:45 am
Jack was left to do the somewhat undesirable job of taking photos for the school newspaper. He couldn't tell if this was better or worse than having to actually man the booth himself, seeing as this eventually meant someone was going to stop him for taking a bad picture. Or worse, try to engage in small talk.
He knew a few faces himself but chose not to engage directly other than a few audible snaps here and there, trying not to distract lest they pull him into their conversation. Jack had to stop, however, when he saw a peculiar booth stacked with information about taxidermy. Not exactly the sort of job listing you saw every day.
He actually recognized the wolpertinger, hmm'd to himself, and snapped a shot of it. "Not bad," the green giant said. "Any particular reason you made one?"
photos being taken if someone wants to react to possibly getting their bad side
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 7:56 am
There was, in fact, at least some food here.
Manned by a squat tanned woman whose arms seemed too thick for her older age, The Sweet Spot was currently hosting a variety of its treats and even had one of its smaller machines brought in for those thirsty for a simple shake. (One had to wonder just what deal had been struck to allow both in the vicinity of both art and books.) Pamphlets littered the colorful booth; Mrs. Potosi wanted to be as loud as possible, given that she didn't often get a chance to strong-arm people into buying her wares under the guise of a genuine outreach opportunity.
Dawson was more than happy to help and was on the move around with several samples in hand himself, half to help and half to keep an eye out for other booths there. He was happy with his job at The Sweet Spot, but that didn't mean it gave him enough money for his purposes.
"Someone say they was hungry?" Dawson asked with a grin as he approached. Poor guy--probably lost a bet. Or was a sweet boyfriend. Or both. "What you two in the mood for? I got," he fished out his plastic bag, "some cookies--raisin, chocolate, macadamia--a bit of brownie n' fudge, a few of 'em ganache-dipped pretzels..."
anyone else who is hungry and has a sweet tooth
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 8:04 am
Food.Huxtable turned his attention toward a colorful booth, happily labeled The Sweet Spot. His stomach growled and he patted it reassuringly, long legs closing the distance between him and the booth within seconds of him having first spotted it. "... a bit of brownie n' fudge, a few of 'em ganache-dipped pretzels ..."Hux resisted the urge to audibly moan, his stomach tightening in knots as he caught the last bit of the male booth-tender's list. He extended one arm so that his square-palmed hand could rest on the younger man's bicep, doing his best to turn the youth's attention onto him. "I'll take a couple of those pretzels." He said, his presence- as always- an intense one. the Sweet Spot booth patrons
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 8:25 am
Finn, for his part, had no idea what the <********> was going on the last few weeks, besides the vague, uneasy feeling in his stomach. He'd heard... rumors, about something bad coming, that Tate might be back in town but there might be something wrong with her... but not enough to really feel like he had a grounding on the situation. It was a position he was loath to be in - but he didn't see any other options. He wasn't Aleksy, with his second sight. He couldn't just walk up to anyone on the street and start blabbing to them about the otherworld. And besides, he had a job to do. He was manning the park service table, his display of brochures and free pencils laid out over a rustic green tablecloth. It was right next to the police department's table, which might or might not have been to his advantage. Two federal agencies, both alike in dignity. Glancing over, it looked as though the officer on duty was trying his best to get rid of his table's current guest. That seemed a bit weird to Finn, but hey, he wasn't going to question it. He picked up a brochure, waving it at the girl. "Check out the park service instead," he said. "We've got all the same student loan forgiveness programs, and like a 90% less chance of getting shot at. Or shooting people. Or causing a national incident." No one had ever started a #Protest over park rangers, that he knew of. "Sorry to poach, officer," Finn added.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 8:36 am
Alois only diverted attention from his scribblings when the flash winked white over his sketches momentarily. Looking up, he noticed an absolutely enormous asian man standing in front of his booth with a camera. He blinked a couple times before cocking a brow at the man, as if to ask in a single gesture why the ******** are you taking pictures of my work without permission combined with a not-so-subtle you’ll be my next project if you keep this s**t up. Alois was, at this moment, a sum total of nonplussed.
„You’re aware that photographing art requires artist’s permission, yes?“ Alois tried to ask in the most emotionally-removed, polite manner possible. An edge of frustration still escaped. It was the college students, he decided; the flock of them and their sum total of fifty brain cells in the room had finally murdered the rest of his patience.
He elected to wave away the transgression, however, and answer the question that addressed the reason behind his booth here - taxidermy was a hobby of great stigma, thus it required extra explanation to lure potential shop bitches apprentices. „The wolpertinger is a part of Bavarian folklore, so it’s a little native to me, and it caused a stir when a taxidermist successfully recreated one. Some people thought they actually existed. It’s now a recognizable animal for that, so if one is to educate and lure people toward taxidermy - more specifically, rogue taxidermy - then it’s an ideal example piece. The rest of these have less to do with folklore and more to do with personal interest. That centipede, there, for example,„ he paused to point at his intended exhibit, „is a little unusual for its use of the human circulatory system. Those veins you see erupting out of its exploded head like tree branches were corrosion cast while the rest of the corpse was removed. These are all techniques that a taxidermist may use in the scope of commissions.
„I take it you’re with the school… newspaper or something?“
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 8:42 am
Thorne's first mistake had been openly engaging Autumn as a friend. The second had been assuming that she was the lesser of two sluts between them. One contest and a shameful defeat later, Autumn had taken her rightful place as queen- with some very well timed you can be the king, but watch the queen conquer jokes at Thorne's expense.
"Not my fault you were ******** stupid enough to take me on," Autumn gleefully chided him, forcing herself to enjoy the job fair. She and Thorne were sort of up s**t creek without a paddle together- a boyfriend, a mom, missing. No information to appease the twisting knife that was clawing at her stomach every which way. So she wasn't going to think about it. Whatever was going on in Other Ashdown, the Chief had told her it was taken care of. Autumn was going to do her damndest to have faith in him, and her mom, and focus on cheering up this sad son of a b***h.
She sat a little more upright at the mention of everything-dipped-pretzels, and quickly reached into her purse for her wallet. Autumn fished around and pulled out a twenty, handing it down to Thorne and pointing to the pretzel guy.
"Macadamia cookies, brownies and fudge, and some of those pretzels. Nothing raisin or I'll kill both of you," Autumn said cheerily, setting her head lazily on Thorne's shoulder.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 9:00 am
Jeremiah's fingers would inevitably slide up to touch Algie's pulse point in his wrist and then, even when they weren't holding hands there was a moment of their pinkies interlocked. His attention kept flickering between the two booths but mostly it was on Algie. Baby steps with these two and the fact that they were clearly at events together more often meant something. That and the ring on his finger. People had noticed. Not that he really said anything. His lips twitched up briefly when Preacher came by, giving Algie's hand one last squeeze. "Definitely catch Chris," was murmured into his spouse's ear before he was focusing on the young woman. "No, they didn't stick me with running it." A snort. "I do help with it some every year." Something about his presence could help bring in interested parties. Jeremiah did not want to think about it as the department using him as some kind of lure. This year, however, he had made a point to make sure he would be free to do other things in case something was to happen. "You putting out feelers for something else part time?" He did not miss any of that exchange between Kitty and Algie. Mostly because he heard that story. It was kind of hilarious.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 9:05 am
Nasir was mostly interested in maybe, just maybe, going to a culinary school. His degree was secure but ... It wasn't cooking. He was honestly looking forward to the two of them having free time to laze about and not worry about school for a while. Which may have entirely been Wil's influence. At the noise and then Wil crumpling against him, Nasir's arms went around the blonde to catch him. He did have a tendency to fall down like a domino at unsuspected items thrown at him. He was looking up towards Temperance - oh, she looked familiar from around school - and then back to Wil. The rolling stress ball was toed at with his foot but not picked up. "I think it's a bit early for piggy back rides," he teased (but he totally would). Temperance got a slight wave when he managed to get the blonde upright again. Noodle boy was noodley.
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Posted: Wed May 18, 2016 9:07 am
If being a student at the college wasn't enough of a reason to attend, at least the free food, wine bar, and possibility of scoping out another part time job to go along with the one he'd landed at the hospital were convincing enough. Hell, the wine bar alone really sealed the deal. Arriving alone, Connor took a moments pause upon entering to have a good look around at those gathered. He was a little tired, probably slightly hung over from the night before, and a little stressed about the couple of finals he still had to write, but outwardly he appeared as immaculate as usual. A few of his co-students were recognized, along with a certain pink haired beacon who appeared to be harassing someone at the police departments booth. All were ignored for now. Instead, he sidled over to the ridiculously tall, green haired photographer, jostling his side and looking up at him with a light smirk, only catching the tail end of his conversation with the ....very interesting... taxidermy booth's occupant. Actually, even Connor had to admit that what he was looking at was pretty ******** cool, though morbidly so. "How much work goes into one of these things? Hours wise?" Hey, he could feign more than just passing interest, for now.
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