You can run, you can run (tell my friend-boy Willie Brown)

[wizzardly]

WHO: Rincewind & OPEN
WHERE: Heropa, Nonah & wherever you want really
WHEN: May 2016
WHAT: Catch-alls for May. Libraries, shark abuse, and Blues singers, oh my! I can be reached at inkswitch for a specific prompt.
WARNINGS: not yet, but we'll see~
-


01: NONAH LIBRARY: "Standin' at the crossroad (I tried to flag a ride)"

[it's been an aggravating day at the Nonah Library for the wizard currently stocking shelves. Gaggles of children with sticky hands, a trapped sparrow he spent the better part of the morning trying to (unsuccessfully) get out, and now he's balanced on a ladder putting back books on shelves that are honestly much too high for any person to get at.

Heights. Gods, but he hates heights. At least he has the Luggage to balance the circulation box on, to make the job easier.

...At least until that sparrow from earlier comes flapping madly past. Rincewind yelps and gives it a startled glance, but the Luggage? Ah, the Luggage has been equally irritated by its failure in trapping the scared avian, and it takes off after the fluttering devil with an open lid and mad, single-minded pursuit. Pursuit so single-minded, in fact, that it doesn't even notice that it knocks right into Rincewind's ladder as it runs past.

Anyone coming around the corner will probably hear Rincewind before they see him, shouting as his ladder tips backwards. Luckily, it catches on the shelf behind to form a sort of makeshift bridge, leaving its skinny occupant clinging upside down to the rungs like some new species of spider monkey, afraid to move in case the shifting weight sends one of the bookshelves toppling.

In the wizard's defense, narrative imperative suggests that would be just his luck.]

02: HEROPA BEACH: "Didn't nobody seem to know me (everybody pass me by)"

[even travel-hating wizards like to take to the beach from time to time. Rincewind's attire isn't exactly typical for the setting - what sort of person pairs knee-length breeches with a cape at the ocean? - but he is lying in the sand, hat over his face and toes in the lapping waves, and he seems to be enjoying the relative peace and quiet of it all.

Relative for Rincewind, anyway, who is used to the Luggage dragging terrible monsters out of the ocean so it can work some of its constant murderous energy out on them. This time the Luggage has returned from its watery jaunt dragging one very angry shark out by its tail. Said shark has been interrupted from an otherwise lovely afternoon contemplating which brightly-colored (and human-shaped) "seal" to make its lunch. Apparently, that plan is about to fall through.]

...If you get any shark bits on me, [Rincewind says amiably, recognizing the sounds and not bothering to move his hat from his eyes,] I'm going to be very cross with you.

03: HEROPA NIGHTCLUB: "Mmm, the sun goin' down, boy (dark gon' catch me here)"

[the club is called "Crossroads", a hole-in-the-wall basement bar that boasts little to its name. No fancy drinks, no food, and no specials, mostly worn tables serving worn people who like a little shadow and cool lighting when they go to drown whatever emotions need drowning. But it does have a stage in the corner, short and wooden as it is, and every Thursday through Sunday that stage hosts a different musician.

It's Rincewind's favorite bar, though one might not recognize him at first glance tonight. He's without the Luggage (gods only knows where it's gone off to) and without his robes, in dark pants and a whimsical blouse that, yes, was probably April's at one point. The hat is on, of course. The hat is always on, but he's tried to squish down the back of it to be respectful to the singer on stage, an older black gentleman strumming a guitar that's seen better days. His voice, low and thrumming, croons out Blues songs which Rincewind has never heard of, but whose melancholy misery resonate with him regardless. (Is it really any surprise?)

Anyone wandering in will find him sat against the table nearest to the back wall, on his third glass of wine and looking genuinely enthralled by the music. He has to murmur to himself around his next drink:]

Whoever this Robert Johnson was, the poor bastard certainly knew something about life.

04. WILDCARD

((anything and everything! Rincewind is Luck's bitch, so if there's somewhere you want him just let me know!))

Comments

library........ a few days after their convo idk...

[sidequestings]

[ say what you want about elves' ears, but they serve a purpose, and that purpose is to hear farther and better than a humans'. not that especially-good hearing is necessary today-- a shout like that in a library this (relatively) quiet is pretty much impossible to miss. when he rounds the shelves to find the source, mahanon actually has to stop and stare for a few moments in stunned amusement. well.. that's awkward. ]

You must be Rincewind.

[ he lifts a hand in a sweeping gesture, and the ladder carefully rights itself, leaning slowly back down against the original set of shelves. ]

By the way, was that a clothing trunk I just saw chasing a bird? [ a week ago, he would've probably had to sit down to contemplate a world in which wardrobes and the like can run around by themselves. this week, he'd finally found the last fuck he had to give, and had tossed it carelessly away. ]

[wizzardly]

[the wizard whimpers as he feels the ladder moving under him again, fully anticipating a hard crash with his name on it. When there isn't a painful jolt from below or above, he risks opening an eye to peer around him. Oh, he's... back where he started somehow. Well that's -

He blinks down at the voice, finding it attached to an elf. A fact which he would normally find both distressing and deserving of a quick getaway, if this weren't an elf he spoke with a few days prior. Rincewind clears his throat somewhat (okay, mostly) awkwardly.]

Er. 'Yes' I think is the answer to both of those. Hold on, let me just -

[and with careful motions and little dignity, he goes about climbing down the ladder. Once safely on the ground (sweet, blessed ground, why does he ever leave you?) Rincewind dusts off the slacks his work insists he wears and flashes Mahanon a nervous smile.]

Mahanon, wasn't it? Do I have you to thank for fixing that little - [he gestures vaguely at the ladder] - issue?

[sidequestings]

[ admittedly, the man isn't quite what he was expecting in person, but.. if he's honest, he's not sure what he was expecting. he's.. sort of.. cute, though, isn't he? in a hapless, confused ex-circle mage sort of way, maybe.

he smiles warmly at being remembered, following his gesture to the ladder. ] Oh. Yes. You looked as if you could use a hand. [ and there's no way he could have pushed the ladder back up with rincewind on it by hand. that was a real disaster just waiting to happen.

he hesitates a moment, as if uncertain how the gesture will be received, before mentally kanye-shrugging and offering a hand out. ] It's a pleasure to meet you. .. Was that your clothing-trunk..?

[wizzardly]

In a manner of speaking. [Rincewind is always loathe to claim ownership of the Luggage because it tended to imply that 1) He is responsible for its actions, and 2) He can tell it what to do.]

But it generally follows me about. ...Was it magic you used just then? To stabilize the ladder, I mean.

[given that it's over there and Mahanon is... over here. Seems a fair guess. Rincewind folds his arms and tries not to look too immediately jealous. There's about a fifty percent chance of success.]

Was it elf magic, or are you hiding a wizard's hat on you somewhere?

[better make that thirty percent.]

wild card house times

[aggressiveapathy]

April hadn't, so far, been able to actually prove the Wiz had done anything. It didn't stop her from knowing, but it did make it harder to plot any real revenge. So. Safe for now. She'd stick to spoiling the luggage with heaps of animal fur covered clothing to munch on and leave his room un-boobytrapped. Today.

But the runes were another thing. Will had let slip that he'd, softie he was, had given Rincewind a straight answer. Which could mean all kinds of things, the first of which was that the man could have asked to break the wards. Never knew who could be the next seemingly-sweet murder happy psycho wanting to ask Will to prom. With the luggage being kind enough to let one raccoon ride on it's noble back, April set to checking each and every rune she'd hidden across the property. Some of this may involve moving furniture, digging in the garden, or climbing on the roof. She'd gone a little nuts with the protecting.

[wizzardly]

The Luggage, like any devoted follower of a magical goddess, followed with dutiful care in its not-master's footsteps. It had taken its earlier boon of furry clothing (which even now dwelt safe and clean somewhere within the mutli-dimensional space of its unfathomable abyss, awaiting retrieval) with great pride. Rincewind was far from the most affectionate of owners, which normally suited the suit case just fine, but there was something to be said for being shown appreciation by one worth appreciating.

Said wizard managed to catch a nap that afternoon, and was lying in a shirtless, shorts-clad sprawl atop his messy bed when he heard chittering outside. Forever a light sleeper, Rincewind absently put his hat back on before opening his window just enough to poke a head outside and look down at the garden.

It's something of a surprise to see April, the Luggage, and a raccoon down there.

"...Are you gardening?"

[aggressiveapathy]

It wasn't much of a talent, but after years of living with dozens of raccoons and needing to shame particular ones without much effort April doesn't even have to look up to point an accusatory finger at Rincewind. She's still carefully looking at the marks on the ground while one arm raises.

"Checking if you broke it."

nightclub!

[brushoff]

[ Dorian doesn't want to spend all evening here (oh my goddddd, this place is no fun at all) but the drinks are cheap and it's the perfect place to pregame.

Needless to say, he doesn't expect to see Rincewind there though really, this isn't surprising. This looks entirely too much like his sort of bar of choice. And hey, for once Dorian looks more out of place than Rincewind does—his shoes probably cost more than the combined outfits of two or three people here. He wanders over towards Rincewind as he murmurs about Robert Johnson. ]

Isn't he that chap who sold his soul to the devil? [ Dorian "captain snob" Gray is not so surprisingly ignorant when it comes to American blues music. He was more Kinks, less Rolling Stones. ] I really need to take you shopping, by the way. Is this weekend good?

[ Dorian's not going to judge Rincewind for wearing a woman's blouse. He's going to judge him for wearing an ill-fitting woman's blouse. ]

[wizzardly]

"...Blues fallin' down like hail, blues fallin' down like hail, and the days keeps on worryin' me. There's a hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail..."

[Rincewind blinks up, startled to hear a familiar voice. He'd been sure this place was too small to attract any other imPorts, much less one of Dorian's particular... caliber. (Money. He means someone with money.) But it's followed quickly enough by a smile, because hey, always good for an unexpected surprise to be a friend and not someone keen on causing him physical or emotional pain.

Although that tidbit of information is both new and unwanted. Rincewind looks aghast at this piece of Americana trivia before dragging his hand down his face. Behind it comes a frustrated groan and a muttered:] Of course he would be.

[no wonder the guy had so many distressing things to write music about. But although he comes as the bearer of bad news (and fashion criticism), Rincewind will move to the next chair to give Dorian room to join him at the table.]

Shopping? For what? [says the man drowning in a long-sleeved, paisley blouse.]

[brushoff]

For a proper shirt, [ Dorian idly remarked, as he gestured vaguely towards Rincewind's shirt. ] It's a horrible fit.

[ Because hey, that's the truth, it is. Dorian takes a small little sip of his beer, wrinkling his nose at it. It's shitty and it's something cheap from the tap. A decidedly bad choice. ]

1

[mightthinkthat]

[ Francis merely raises an eyebrow at him. ] Do you need help or is this some kind of yoga position that I'm unfamiliar with. [ Not that Francis knows much about yoga, but it's a joke, anyway. ]

[wizzardly]

Oh no, this is just another afternoon for me. [being suspended between two high bookshelves is apparently not a reason for a wizard to lose his sense of sarcasm.]

Really helps a person concentrate, hanging from a ladder like a bloody possum.

[mightthinkthat]

Oh, well, I won't disturb you any further.

2

[itistolaugh]

What if it gets on me?

[ Harley had been in the splash zone and is now picking shark chunks off her sunhat. SPF does nothing to protect against dead fish juices. This cute new beach hat and bikini combo is ruined now. No matter how many times it goes through the wash, it's going to be haunted by a shark ghost. ]

I'm not too thrilled about being chummed either, pal.

[wizzardly]

[- Oh shit. Rincewind scrambles into sitting up, surprised to hear a voice - particularly a woman's voice - answering him. He lifts his hat brim up enough to cast a wide-eyed look on Harley.]

Sorry! Sorry, er... [gods, but it's difficult enough not being tongue-tied in front of a woman in a bikini on a normal day; now there's a woman in a bikini with reasons to be cross at him. Fishy, chunky reasons. Rincewind winces. The Luggage pauses its attempt to make shark soup, lid half open as it watches this disaster in the making.]

It's - I mean, it's - [the wizard makes a fluttery, helpless gesture towards Harley and her suit. His eyes are momentarily caught at chest-height before he hastily yanks them back to her face.] Well, I'm... sure that will come out. Mostly.

[itistolaugh]

Mostly. Maybe. No, it's no good. I'm going to remember this smell every time I see it.

[ It's hard to tell how many squishy bits are left on the top of your hat when you are wearing it, so she takes it off and just shakes the damn thing out. Away from where any innocent bystanders may be, Luggage.

Speaking of monstrous furniture, she twirls her hand at it in a sort of "well, go on" gesture. ]

Might as well finish what you started.

1

[dualismum]

[ Sasaki loves book, just as much Kaneki did. That's why once he got back in this world, not only he decided to check on people he knew, get a second job, and try to feel at home, he also went to every library the imports cities could offer, which is the reason why he is at the Nonah Library. By pure chance, really.

While he grabs a book about modern poetry in America, Sasaki hears a scream and of course he must check it out - maybe someone needs help! And he isn't wrong, not really, as he sees Rincewind struggling not to fall off the ladder. ]

Ah, hold on-

[ Sasaki approaches, and thanks to his inhuman strength, he quite easily puts the ladder back against the shelf and thus allowing the wizard to be at a normal position again. Only then Sasaki recognizes this person.

He pretty much screamed "monster" when he found out Kaneki consumed humans. Hopefully he won't remember the face, neither realize Sasaki does look exactly like Kaneki's clone. ]

Are you alright?

[wizzardly]

[Rincewind lifts his head from its current not-at-all-embarrassing position against one of the rungs, giving his helper a look only slightly less startled than the one he gave when the ladder fell in the first place. Someone helping him? Randomly? What trickery is this?

He's further confused when said helper seems... both familiar and not. Rincewind's gaze flicks warily up and down Sasaki's figure, trying to place him, before risking a response.]

...Yes. Mostly. Um. Thank you? - I mean, of course thank you. Ah.

[right, let's just. Climb down from the ladder first. Rincewind carefully makes his way down, ignoring the distant sounds of shouting patrons, trampling feet, and an agitated bird.]

Have we met? Sorry, you look familiar, I just can't place you.

[dualismum]

[ nope, you totally haven't met him Rincewind, he is totally not that cannibal guy, ssshh, don't overthink it.

Sasaki hols the ladder until the other is on the floor again - by his own feet - and after he shakes his head ] I don't think we have, no. Maybe I have one of those "common faces"?

I'm Haise Sasaki.

1! (post ladder shenanigans? )

[assays]

[ It had been some time since Peggy had paid a visit to the library, and since it was her afternoon off, she had a few hours to spend as she pleased. Getting caught up on some reading was something that Peggy meant to do for a while now so what better place than a library? She made her way down each aisle, looking carefully at the books on the shelves. Peggy wasn't in any kind of rush, but she felt like she was a little spoiled for choice when it came to choosing some books.

Eventually, she came across Rincewind shelving a few books - either he worked here or he was just a very kind citizen who liked to tidy up after people who didn't put back the books where they belonged. ]

Ah, excuse me. I was wondering if you could help me with something.

[wizzardly]

[good eye, Peggy! Despite pairing a wizard's hat with ill-fitting slacks and a woman's blouse, Rincewind is not in fact a random schizophrenic from off the streets, but the assistant librarian! A fact which should become apparent when he turns to look her way - he's wearing a small, sad, glitter-decorated nametag. It says 'Rincewand', because nametag typos are apparently just too expensive to fix.]

- Oh? Yes? Is it a book you need to find?

[he hopes it's that and not some question about the computers, because that will just be embarrassing for both of them in the end.]

[assays]

[ peggy was taught to never judge a book by its cover (pardon the pun) so she always gave a new person the benefit of the doubt before getting to know them. she notes the nametag before offering a smile when he asks his question. ]

Yes, that's exactly what I need help with. Or well, I'm looking for a particular section. The historical section in fact.

[ because she was interested in what this version of america had to say about history, at least the history that peggy was aware of. maybe after that she'd find a classic novel or two and take the time to actually relax at home. ]

( wildcard / ludgate-graham house )

[huntergames]

[ Despite teleporting onto the front porch of Will and April's house, Sasha takes care not to barge inside with her powers out of respect for the people who may be inside. She knocks on the door at first, but when there's no response she teleports just a couple of feet beyond the entrance so she isn't appearing in the middle of the kitchen. She slowly ventures deeper into the house, calling out for anyone who might be around: ]

Hello? Will? April? ... Jeff?

[ Maybe Jeff is in the kitchen having himself whiskey again? She heads straight for the room. ]

[wizzardly]

[there is the soft sound of music from somewhere upstairs - Rincewind is currently in his room, sewing a new patch onto his robe. He doesn't hear Sasha come in, humming instead to some old soul song.

But that doesn't mean Sasha's entrance goes entirely unnoticed.

There is, at the top of the stair landing, a dark shadow. A dark, boxy, wooden shadow.

It has hundreds of little legs.]

[huntergames]

[ Once she picks up on the distant sound of music from upstairs, Sasha is ready to follow it until she notices the top of the landing is blocked by something. While she recognizes those hundreds of tiny legs, familiarity doesn't stop panic from setting in. She immediately backs away from the staircase, arms raised and pressed closely to her chest. ]

A-ah... [ She's never been entirely fond of Luggage, but with it looming in the dark like that it doesn't lessen her concern that one of these days it's going to take a large bite out of her arm.

Or her whole arm. ] Hello, Luggage... w-what are you doing?