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Jeremiah was with Algie, not currently at the Ashdown Police Department booth or the one for BIbiliophile. Instead he was standing with his lover near a place that was perfect distance from both of the booths they were tied too. They could keep an eye on them but he was going to have to make his way to the his at some point in the next bit.

"At least Krasnya," Lady Red because Jeremiah had always called her that instead of her given name, "helped out Lucas and Eve." His pocket watch was checked reflexively and then slid back away into his pocket.

There were no secrets between them obviously and he had told the other man of the information he had found out about the weres ...

... and the wargs. There was just so much going on. "Not that that really makes me feel any less uneasy." Too many warnings about something going down, too many things in general. With the mansion still fresh in his mind, not that long ago, he was not entirely enthused about what the full moon held in store for them.



Nasir only knew that Lily was okay. With that in mind, the senior was enjoying the Rider-Waite Jobland Fair. He was definitely tired and a little worn out from finals but the end was in sight and he could take a moment to enjoy everything. Maybe get a drink ...

He was tugging on Wil's sleeve and pointing towards what looked like a booth for something culinary.

Chel basically beelined it for the police booth the moment she saw it. She was not actually interested in the police, just in saying hi to support her friend because they were friends and that's what friends did.

"Heyyyoooo. Cop-guy Shun on patrooolll."

Preacher hooked her thumbs in her pockets and surveyed the booths. She had a job (thank ******** goodness), but she wondered if she could pick up a part time things here. She didn't have a degree, though.... It was, however, a situation of 'nothing ventured, nothing gained', so here she was and... so was Mercer. The man looked a little grumpy, but that certainly wasn't new.

He was with someone else, but a little thing like that would never stop Preacher from sidling over. They were talking, but she waited until there was a pause. She couldn't be rude to her boss. Sort of boss. Hirerererer. Whatever.

"Hey, Mercer, didn't expect you to be here. I heard there's a PD booth - they stick you with runnin' it?" If not the booth, did they seriously enlist security here - there was campus police, right? Preacher highly doubt Mercer needed an internship anywhere.

With the grumps ‘standing a perfect distance between the booths’ – Zac felt it was therefore his duty to fill in the gap on at least one end. As such, he was manning the Bibliophile booth, at least in such that he was standing behind the booth, willing to answer any question he could and, at least able to point people towards the owner should they need.

Cranky, slightly rounded man in tweed, look for leather patches on the elbows, it’s almost a dead give away. The speech already prepared in his head.

Quite against his normal better judgment he had an energy drink, which he’d poured into a thermos to avoid judgmental-stares, just in case, and was nursing it as he scanned the crowds.

So tonight was the Full moon, he hoped all the print outs, and web pages he’d given to Lucas had been at least marginally helpful. It was an uncomfortable thought to know that tonight might well… turn a little hairy.

And then there were the Wargs, he’d only talked to one person about those, Falco who…had assumed they were a joke. He had no idea what if ANY rules those played by. People might look at him strangely for standing there with a bag slung over his shoulder that he declined to put down. But he was not letting go of his umbrella, or the small ‘medical’ kit he’d bought from the super-mart.

Paranoid? Him? Oh no… not after that House.
Ha.

I hate students, Alois found himself mentally repeating ad nauseum.

His mantra helped him little, however, as passing college students strayed to his booth to gawk at the unholy abominations that Alois carefully arranged around the booth. For the purpose of demonstrative skill, Alois chose to bring in primarily rogue taxidermy projects, including one of the well-recognized wolpertingers to demonstrate exactly what rogue taxidermy meant. Around the booth sat small information cards about each of the bizarre projects, and to the left side he arranged a few sets of DIY taxidermy kits for those who showed a strong enough interest in the craft.

Alois himself sat in a black nazgul-inspired urban hoodie with the hood pushed back against bony shoulderblades. As he waited for more prospective apprentices to stop by and make stupid comments about his work, he drew out plans for another taxidermy undertaking on a sketch pad kept in front of him. In the margins lay a smattering of names and numbers, with notes nearby in german. Most of them, for onlookers who knew the language, offered less-than-desirable phrases.

When the next student dropped by and asked him if the wolpertinger was real, Alois simply sighed and dropped his forehead into his palm.

I really hate students.

Kitty was not a college student, nor was she a booth volunteer. She was a 16 year old girl wearing a frilly dress and a crown atop her head, strolling slowly through the crowds as if the entire town were attending a ball just for her.

Perhaps these booths were only seeking college seniors and the like, but this teenager was looking toward the future. A future where she didn't have to work weekends at a 7-11 just to afford a new brand dress every month. Perhaps something with triple the wages, ad half the time spent working. Yes, lovely. Maybe she could be a model. A brand model. Angelic Pretty ought to seek her out, really. She would wear nothing else.

As she perused and took in her surroundings, she noticed a certain book shop had set up a promo booth as well.

Her eyes narrowed at the Bibliophile booth. She had a vendetta against them, even if they did end up pointing her in the direction of her newest obsession.