Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lucas stalked away from Cas after their exchange, certainly in a worse mood than he'd arrived. He'd about had his fill of fights over who was protective and who did or didn't need it - as much as he'd like to have changed his stripes, he was incapable - and after scouring the groups and throngs of people, he found who he was looking for.

Moving next to Sunny, he was a fair share grumpier than when he'd originally left her side, not even that long ago. "You said no one leaves early, well. You'll get to witness history in the making." His words were wry and spoken as if around a mouth of gravel. "You gonna be okay here?"

glry 305
lk 20 stps bhnd u

Aleksy raised a hand to make a little tick-tock of a wave at Thorne.

v hroic.
thnk lucas wntd 2 kss u?

There was a slight tilt to his head at that. Migrains. Shun had to wonder if it was the ability itself that caused it, or if it was just due to the fact that humans probably weren't really meant to be able to see, hear, or smell the things the way other creatures did. He had to admit though, using a cat seemed less useful than the jay that America had.

"That sounds..." he started but trailed off. He wasn't entirely certain what that sounded like, "...Well I suppose it would make sense there would only be a handful. I cannot imagine something like that being all too common."

Not that he really knew what was common or uncommon when it came to the magical stuff.

He half-scoffed, half-laughed at the response, kissing her cheek in return. "I have like, three mothers, don't you start on me." Despite his soured mood, Lucas managed a smile. "I will, though. And yeah. Good luck with your charts. If you have any left over, bring one over, huh?"

Backing up, he lifted his hand in farewell, making his way against the flow of people to leave.

"For all those who never learned to look with their eyes, not with their hands. I want a spank I know how to open mouth and ask for one. " Sunless probably didn't follow label, unless he was a master of the understatement. Still, 'nice' was true enough in some parts of the world. "Your escort should serve the same purpose with his breed, but turns out the opposite? "

As long as the fur-beast stays over there and away from me.

"Have you been along both rows? You haven't seen any fruit smoothie specific stands?" It was worth asking, since the conversation had been offered, and the guy seemed on a mission of sustenance himself. Maybe he was already on pass two after seeing all there'd been to see.

Preacher had the day off, which meant it was wander the town time. She'd packed away her things inside her backpack and tent and hoisted them up carefully, for safekeeping - which meant she didn't really have anything else to do. Bear proofing trumped being entertained any day. Plus, although she didn't look it, Preacher really enjoyed art as a medium, specifically illustration. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd not only have fun, but also scout out information for selling her own things: caricatures or something - though she was better at doing realistic stuff. She scuffed one booted foot on the ground, feeling strangely unsure of herself in general. It was one thing to bust down doors selling herself for a job, and another thing entirely to do art. It was about five hundred percent more personal.

Luckily, she spotted someone she knew (sort of) almost immediately. Preacher had a one track mind: she bee-lined for Dawson and gave him a not-so-gentle nudge with one elbow. Harassing people put her in her comfort zone. It was terrible and she knew it. "What're you doin' here, Broke a** Mountain? You an artistic ty-" Preacher paused and looked at what he was holding. Then, she did a double-take, frown appearing on her face. What the-

"....did you always have such sausage mitts?" They were, like, abnormally large. Normal-looking otherwise, just big. Preacher hadn't even noticed the other person near Dawson. The hands were just too much, so large they filled her vision. Preacher blinked and gave Dawson a funny look.

Nevada ran a hand through her long hair, settling the massive wave of
brown down with each movement. One single green eye searched the crowded area for anything of interest, but mostly she moved through slowly and without purpose.

Each smell and sight and sound was filed away in a smooth lazy smile, until eventually she did come to stop in front of a booth filled with brightly colored mishapened stones attached to long chains. Her fingers ran over a purple stone with affection and she engaged into a small conversation with the shop keeper.

That was until she heard a shout from someone, and watched as a black figure darted underneath the table. She stepped back and then slowly followed the little creature.

Brie's gaze remained firmly planted on his face because she saw nothing odd. SHE SAW NOTHING ODD. This was not the other Ashdown, she was not in some rainy town, it was probably the summer heat playing tricks with her or that his massive amount of bags had suddenly made his hands larger.

But she saw nothing.

Okay she saw it.

"It was probably a bee sting...." She gruffly said and stared at the other woman, tilting her head. "Or circulation cut off from all the bags." Or it was something from the OTHER ASHDOWN.

Denial ran so strong with this one.