cuddlecity | EVENT: WHY DON'T YOU GET A JOB?

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EVENT: WHY DON'T YOU GET A JOB?

Congratulations, cuddlers! You've survived your first month here in Cadelle, and with only (cough) minimal catastrophe. The city administration is beyond grateful for all of your help in the rebuilding efforts, and cannot thank you enough for all your hard work. Well, maybe that's not entirely fair. After bribing visitors to move out, meeting the seemingly endless caloric needs of hungry superheroes, and funding the reconstruction efforts, the city's coffers are starting to feel a little light... which leads us to today.

The festivities kick off with a time-honored Cadelle tradition: the skills fair! In keeping with local customs, Cadellians traditionally volunteer to host a booth and teach a skill of their choice for the day, a good deed that helps to refill the city's energy stores after the busy summer season. This year, the city has graciously agreed to let anyone interested sign up to host, and has set aside a small number of booths for the exclusive use of their newest visiting citizens... and while money isn't on the table (sorry, y'all, but they did say they were a little tight on the wallet), teaching out of the goodness of your heart still counts as a good deed done.

Whether you choose to host a booth and teach a skill of your own, or to wander the fair and learn something new, be sure to take time to appreciate the day's other offerings. Like any good late-summer fair, there's plenty of delicious food and drink from some of the city's best loved vendors to sample, upbeat music in the air to dance courtesy of the local top 40 radio station, and lots of opportunities to escape the heat thanks to special seminars hosted by the city's own university. Yes, seminars — there's one every hour, with topics ranging from underwater basket weaving to particle physics to the careful art of walking more than one dog on the same leash. Classes are free, seats are plentiful, and hey, what else do you really have to do? You don't have a job yet, do you?

Speaking of jobs... after the fun in the sun of the skills fair is over, it's time for the main event on day two: the job fair! Yes, that's right, a job fair, because it's time for all you freeloaders to start paying your own way.

That might be a little harsh.

In any case, Flora and Cornelius are glad to welcome to you to Cadelle's first annual Employment Extravaganza, complete with brightly colored booths, friendly vendor representatives, and plenty of applications to go around. Come say hi, shake some hands, and maybe even get hired on the spot!

In addition to the city's many and varied culinary venues, there are a wide variety of cultural institutions, learning centers, recreation spots, and shopping destinations to appease even the most restless of visitors. (Hint, hint: there's even a DIRECTORY.)

While the sky's the metaphorical limit, be sure to check out the sponsored booths currently hiring:

▸ Barred is currently hiring for dance instructors! From classic ballet to interpretative dance or hip-hop, any style is welcomed. Please note: all classes are fully-clothed. (If you prefer to dance in your birthday suit, we suggest a more personal arrangement.)

▸ Blue Springs Pool is looking for qualified lifeguards to supervise the annual 'Learn To Swim' and 'Mommy and Me' programs this fall. While being able to breathe underwater is preferred, it's not required.

▸ Chop Shop has an opening for an even-tempered (... or not) culinary instructor for their evening cooking classes. Exceptional candidates may even be considered for the chef's academy, where they will be tasked with training Cadelle's next great generation of professional chefs!

▸ Crunches is eagerly hoping to fill a variety of positions, from gym staff to personal trainers and fitness instructors. If you've got a passion for fitness and want to get paid to ~~join a multi-level marketing company~~ sweat, come on down!

In case meeting and greeting with desperate to hire vendors doesn't sound like a great time, or if you need a little practice with the concept of having conversations with real people, Flora and Cornelius have graciously agreed to host a speed networking event. Much like your beloved speed dating events, this special event is intended to help you quickly and easily meet a variety of ~~hot singles in your area~~ professional colleagues and friends, and to potentially find a new career if you're lucky! (Plus, it's air-conditioned. How can you go wrong?)

Be sure to visit the welcome table to sign in and pick up your name tag. You'll be pleased to note that the name tags have been prefilled for your convenience, so just find the one with your name on it and slap it on. Don't mind the descriptions underneath...

Or do. While the city administration had graciously agreed to loan an intern to Flora and Cornelius for this event, they didn't exactly send their best and brightest. Grumpy intern Monty Montague has decided to have a little fun with his boring assignment — instead of the requested polite descriptions, Monty's opted to fill in the blank with more... well, colorful phrases. Things like:

▸ Hello, my name is Inigo. I am a revenge-obsessed swordsman with daddy issues.

▸ Hello, my name is Marshall. I am what? who? chicka chicka Slim Shady.

▸ Hello, my name is Moana. I am MOAAANAAAAAAAA.

What will your name tag say? Do you agree to stay and wear it? While you may seek out blank nametags (or even just an extra marker to scribble out the offending message), you'll be sorely disappointed to find them all conveniently missing. Tearing it in two won't work, either — there's no penny-pinching on supplies here, and that thick plastic sticker won't rip for anything.

Oh, well. It could be worse, right? At least there's a snack bar, and everyone's suffering together... right?

Pull up a chair, find your next match, and try to avoid the enormous elephant in the room. Or don't. Whatever floats your boat, cuddlers!

In conjunction with this event, the mod team is glad to announce the launch of our official JOBS DIRECTORY! Should your character find honest employment at the jobs fair or even on their own, please be sure to let us know!

Helpful Hint: As a reminder, players are always welcome to suggest a location that may be missing from our directory, and characters are also welcome to open up their own venues with help from the city administration! For help with this, or to make a suggestion, please drop us a line at our GENERAL INBOX (or SCREENED INBOX, if you prefer).

As always, we're here for you, cuddlers, to make this game a success! We couldn't do it without you!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

a. skills

[ Barely a minute after arriving in Cadelle, here Baby is, with a stand at the corner of the skills fair; a whiteboard by a long table, a number of helmets lined up on it, and, close, his trusty car, parked and waiting. He's secured enough space that he can show off some stunts off the side of his stand and the fair; not that he actually expects that many people to be interested in hearing about road safety.

At least, it's a good, bright day in Cadelle, and as he sits on the hood of the Challenger, twirling a sharpie in between two fingers as LCD Soundsystem blasts in his ears, his head tilted to the sun, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The typical Baby attire, really.

If you fancy doing donuts, you want to learn drifting techniques, or discuss the dangers of stunt driving, Baby is here for you! The stand also works as an unofficial promo for the Car Club, if that's what you're interested in! ]

b. tag

[ Someone's having way too good a time with these name tags. And if you're curious and/or want to call him out in his, Baby's own tag says:

Hello, my name is Baby. If you really think it's my real name, you're more naive than I am ]

c. job

[ Baby's been looking around the job fair for a while, now; done with the skills parts, he's now wandering around, feeling a little aimless. There is nothing in which he can use his most prominent skill - he doesn't really want to be a delivery driver again, not if he can help it, anyway.

But he can't see anything that's calling out to him, anything where he'd be good and useful, something he'd love at the same time. That is, until he sees the stands, side by side, for Mahogany, The Deviant, and, a few stands over, B-Sides. After walking around without a single clue where he could contribute, suddenly, he's in a row with three possibilities.

Music. He hadn't even thought of it. But then, it's like he's physically incapable of stopping himself from walking over.

Around the Mahogany stands, he wonders aloud, even as he grabs an application form: ] Think they'd be interested in a lounger singer?

[ He grabs a form at The Deviant's stand and fills it out for himself to try out DJing auditions, and finally, he stops at the B-Sides stand, fingers running along the sleeves of the vinyls on display.

He's not the only one at the stand, though. Competition? ] Interested in a job here?

Edited (formatting ) 2017-09-01 16:25 (UTC)

1. name tag / speed networking

[ Hello, my name is Bigby. I am THE LAW

... honestly, it could have been worse. If whoever wrote this thing had gone for some dog joke, written that he's "a REAL son of a bitch", he probably would have chucked it in the first trash can he could find and done without the damn thing. Even so, it's not like this paints him in the best light, but if he needs to try his hand at this "playing nice" thing then a name's a fine place to start.

Not that it's going to be easy, even then - but when is anything ever easy? ]

2. job hunting

[ It's not that he's eager to find himself in someone else's employment, not by a long shot, but he's also not so stupid as to deny that needing money is a fact of life. He can't exactly just nominate himself sherriff here, and not for nothing but he's pretty sure that his way of handling things differs pretty greatly from the police.

The idea is there, in the back of his head, to look into starting up his own private investigative practice. Detective work was admittedly engaging. The hunter in him enjoyed seeking the trail, connecting dots to find his way to his prey - the truth. It's part of what made being the sherriff of Fabletown actually bearable, but he's not sure this place has the same seedy underbelly to dig into. Or, more accurately, he doesn't think he's been here long enough to find the traces of it. A place like this, with such a pretty face and an aggressively warm-hearted message, that offers such a tantalizing prize to its volunteers for the low price of a little cooperation, a little affection... he doesn't trust it, not entirely, and he wants to do a little digging to find out what he can about this place, what secrets it might be hiding that the ones in charge don't want coming to light. For right now, there's no obvious lead to follow.

But he knows where to go if he wants to find a start.

Booze always loosens lips, but just picking any bar isn't enough. The nicer ones aren't worth his time - if there's anything going on behind the scenes here it won't be exposed by the higher-ups, the people benefitting from the system. It'll be from the ones who are down on their luck, who have been driven into a dark corner - the kind that find themselves in dive bars, which is why he finds himself stopped at the stand for CriminALES. Yeah, this could do. If nothing else, a night job would give him some income to start saving up so he can start something independently. ]

Place like this looks like it could use some muscle.

01 — skills.

( alright, admittedly she'd been a bit hesitant to open up any sort of booth, but she figures while perusing for some sort of good she can contribute to the city, it wouldn't hurt to put her capability out there for any interests it could potentially catch. however, rather than remaining tucked behind the sleek black canopy, laying home only to a padded mat upon the lawn, she's mingling at the snack cart nearby in usual training garb. look, her figure isn't going to be harmed by a churro, she's got plenty of curves to feed.

needless to say, feel free to catch her attention if you're up for a little lesson in self-defense, for a little playful spar, or if you just want an excuse to wrestle her— just don't be bruised when she's gotten you pinned. unless, of course, that's your plan after all. )

02 — tag.

( Hello, my name is Isabelle, and eyes up- they aren't tattoos.

i mean, it isn't far off from comments she's received thus far, though she doesn't necessarily mind the confusion. she can't exactly expect others to be familiar with a world that isn't their own, certainly when the institute is something kept hidden even amongst the streets of brooklyn.

could have been worse, and by the likes of it, definitely is as hues flit toward the tag of another having just approached, rich red of her lips curving to a smirk. )

i. skills not found

[What happens when your previous employment happened to be a very long time ago in a place that doesn't even really exist anymore? Vasquez has registered his guns for use, but it's not like anyone is coming up to him to use them and he doesn't foresee people coming to him like Sam did for Rose Creek. Honestly, he's not sure he'd even take those jobs, not after seeing four men die in the face of it.

So that leaves him with three guns, a lasso, a lot of skills, and none of them worth anything. He barely knows how to operate a phone, people are staring at him because his clothes look weird (not that he has any plans to give them up) and that leaves Vasquez aimless, unemployed, and still wandering around trying to find out if there's a price on his head to worry about.

The one thing that he could do is absent, seeing as it doesn't look like anyone is looking for a rancher or a farmhand, not that he thinks he'd be very good at those things anymore. That's a lifetime ago and he hasn't passed many sprawling farms in his short time here. Digging in his pockets to find cigarette and matches, he decides he's going to need to find something, because, after all...]

Cigarettes won't pay for themselves.

ii. tag it, bag it

[Hello, my name is ~~vasquez~~ and on a steel horse I ride. I'm wanted, dead or alive.

He's still not entirely feeling safe because he has no idea whether that $500 is still luring people in to trade his life for cash, but if he doesn't start making money soon and doing something, he's going to be in a different kind of trouble. Men like him don't do so well bored, after all. He needs a job, he needs to know what he can even do, and maybe today, this will give him a chance to figure it out.

Slapping the nametag on his vest with displeasure, he stares around and tries to find someone like Sam, who looks like they know what they're doing, because that's usually the smart first step to anything.]

[ Bigby's still pretty inexperienced on the whole "getting along" thing. There are a few fables back home he coexists with well enough - hell, a few that he even likes - but that took a lot of time and a lot of history. He knew who they were, where they came from, what they'd been through, and what they were capable of.

Here he might have a blank slate to work with, but he also had nothing on any of these people. No idea who to trust, who to question, who to steer clear of, and who he should encourage to steer clear of him. It was a giant game of Russian Roulette.

But he heard someone utter a phrase that, at the very least, he could relate to. Good a place as any to start trying his hand at socializing here.

He finds the source of the voice easily enough - the man had just pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and while he was still hunting for some matches Bigby took a few steps to approach him, pulling his lighter from his pocket to offer its flame to the stranger. ]

You could always find a cheaper vice.

[ Pot, meet kettle. ]

[Vasquez glances up when someone offers him a lighter, which is something he's seen, but he's still not very comfortable with. He likes matches, likes the feel of striking one up, taking his time with it, extinguishing it right before it goes off. Of course, given his most recent experience with explosives, maybe a lighter is a better idea. Much surer bet, at least]

What if I like smoking?

[Given that he barely goes a day without going through at least a half a dozen, 'like' is probably an understatement, but it's something to do with his hands and mouth, not to mention a way to keep his stress down. Besides, even when he'd been on the run, it was easy enough to pick people's shops and pockets for tobacco and easy to store. Food? Not so much, which is why he's so often hungry]

Why do they ask so many dollars for something so small? Where I come from, you can get a cigarette for a nickel.

▸ 𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣

[ even after months in eudio, gaby refuses to let her mod style die, so she strolls through the skills fair with her big ol' hat, her big round sunglasses, and a cute retro dress. she's german so once it hits noon, she has a beer in hand as she inspects the various booths and skills on display, searching for a job. she idly texts natasha as she searches, noticing the ballet school. is this hers? in any case it has a cute name and she makes a note of it. chop shop makes her a little lonely, remembering illya's nickname for her. there has to be a garage here that needs a hand...

she doesn't man her own booth because what skill would she even choose to highlight? but she stops by a number of them, flitting around between classes that don't hold her attention very long. she's easily snaggable, edging around people in the streets as she moves about. ] Pardon me.

[ just passing through, move to the left please so she can dance on past. maybe literally dance on past, maybe join her. ]

▸ 𝕛𝕠𝕓 𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣

[ gaby takes her name tag and pins it to her dress without even looking at it and it isn't until the first person asks her to translate that she looks down at it. she answers, but moves away to inspect the tag more closely.

Hello, my name is Gaby. Je suis un espion.

gaby frowns at it. ] I'm not even French.

▸ 𝕒𝕝𝕝'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣

( wild card, y'all do what your heart tells you )

Interested in the music, [ gaby corrects, pulling out a record and flipping it over to read the track listing on the back, humming under her breath. the record is from the late american fifties but gaby's looking at it like it's her pal from last week.

she taps the booth's attendant with an easy smile, gesturing to the record. ] Do you mind? [ without actually waiting for the go ahead, gaby pulls the record out of the sleeve and slips it onto the record player, shifting the needle to the right song with practiced ease. after a slight pause, the song she'd selected starts to play and she winks at the dumbfounded booth attendant.

a moment later she turns and looks up up and up at baby, holding out her hand. she's not going to ask. ]

Edited 2017-09-02 03:10 (UTC)

[ A nickel? Bigby remembers the last time cigarettes were that cheap, and it was a god damn long time ago. Either there are some real cultural differences going on, or something more temporal. Something to keep in the back of his mind, at least. ]

Because they know people will pay. If everyone refused to shell out that much the companies would kick prices down in a heartbeat, but it's a business of addiction. People will give up all sorts of things before they stop buying cigarettes.

[ He's well aware that he could be put under the "addict" label, but at least there's some practical purpose to his addiction. Living in New York City with a hypersensitive sense of smell can be maddening - the cigarettes dull that sense a bit, mask the chaotic blend of scents with one that's much stronger, much more persistent.

Downside is that he always smells like the stuff, but it's a worthy trade, he thinks. ]

That's capitalism.

I. Speed Networking Event

[The magic of digital reading programs and the hope that human beings will be so kind as to talk about themselves will help Matt find opportunities here. Getting out, getting the name out and the reputation.

Except he's not pleased with his nametag.]

Hello, my name is Matthew Murdock. I am ~~a liar~~ a lawyer.

[Dammit. All the same. If it's a conversation piece then so be it. He smooths the adhesive of the tag on his suit above his heart. Here goes nothing.]

II. Job Fair

[There's enough activity to make his way through the booths, collecting fliers and exchanging numbers. It's important, tedious work. And really this much socializing is better with a partner.

With Foggy. Matt has to make his way to the snacks to get some air and water. All of this was easier when it's with Foggy Nelson. That was what made Nelson and Murdock work.]

Edited (html flub) 2017-09-02 05:43 (UTC)

↪ skills fair

( kara has no skills. well, more specifically, kara has no skills that are teachable; rather than manning a booth for the day, she opts to wander. she's still not feeling super sociable, so while many of her friends and neighbors are hosting their own booths, teaching their own specialties with a smile (or lack of one, in the case of a verdant archer she knows), kara spends most of her time near the food trucks and snack carts, sampling different things with a reserved, pensive expression.

though kara might be on her own in terms of human company, she's not entirely alone. at the end of a retractable leash, a small golden-haired ball of fluff eagerly trots along beside her, ever-hopeful for a dropped bite or a special treat. (please don't tell oliver, but the dog has definitely gotten its fair share of french fries today.)

she's in the middle of investigating the contents of a particularly delicious-smelling churro when someone interesting passes by; the leash goes taut as atticus sprints forward, cheerfully barking in signal, excitement evident in full-body wriggles and friendly paws lifting up in greeting. if said interesting person happened to bend down? they might just get a lap full of fur — not to mention a face full of puppy kisses. )

Oh, I think he likes you.

↪ job fair

( while kara might not have any skills worth teaching, she does have a job here. as manager of criminales, it's partially her responsibility to see to it that they're able to hire the right staff to help man the bar, one that's particularly urgent considering just how tired kara is of having to do so herself.

she comes on day two dressed in her bartender finest, a stark contrast to the buttoned-up librarian chic kara normally sports out and about. while it's by no means scandalous, the snug fit dark denim and low-cut v-neck is definitely not something anyone would expect her to wear... but she does have to admit that she sells considerably more drinks in it than anything else. not that she'll tell her boss that. she doesn't want to give him the smug satisfaction of being right.

feel free to come apply for a job, or maybe just say hello. do her a favor, though, and try not to let your eyes linger too long on the thin silver arrow that dangles exactly where you'd expect it to.

wear something dangly, danvers, he'd said. well, thanks a lot, mick. )

skills/ i swing it till i hit the floor

( She ends up with a stand which is surrounded by targets - bullseyes stood at various heights and distances, tins and pieces of fruit scattered about. Unfortunately, drinking isn't a skill they want people to teach, it seems. So Kate goes for the next best thing:

Knife throwing.

With her hair pinned up out of the way, the origami elephant tattoo on the back of her neck standing stark against sunkissed skin, Kate's movements are sharp, quick and accurate. They start off simple enough, just aiming for bullseyes and hitting them in succession, but soon she's busting out a whole host of fancy tricks - spinning, jumping (more than a couple of feet higher than a person should be able to), even flipping back, hitting the smallest of targets around her. She may have forgotten she's supposed to be trying to teach people in favour of putting on a demonstration. Or simply practicing.

Feel free to interrupt her or wait until she's done, or come over from your stand and tell her that your lunch isn't a long-distance target. )

name tags/ stop, they never gon' hurt me

( My name is Katherine Galloway. I am also known as Katydid.

Well. At least it didn't include her middle name. Her attempts to filch a pen and rewrite the thing are about as successful as you can imagine (sorry, they're all out of ink). As soon as she notices anyone taking a glance at her name tag, they get a sharp: )

It's Kate.

( Katherine sounds like you're about to start lecturing her. And Katydid is just-

God, she hates her friends. )

a. skill check
[ is the art of pouring a proper beer a real skill? or is it just an assumed part of adulthood, like paying bills and taking out the trash or showering? regardless, mick spends day one eating and drinking his way around the fair. if he's not gonna get paid for any of his work that happens in lthe later days, well, the least he can do is mooch of he other schmucks who are offering free swag like pens, multicolored cups, and the like. it's not stealing if they're giving them away for free, but that doesn't mean he's not going to be sneaky about it, plucking the items with nimble fingers and stuffing them into the many pockets sewn into his jacket. feel free to call him out for his shady behavior. he probably deserves it.]

b. job fair
[for those unfortunate enough to visit the booth for criminales when kara isn't there, be forewarned. on day two of this celebration of the wonders of employment, mick is incredibly tired, moderately hungover, and not here for anyone's shit. it must be a day that ends in y. is it really appropriate for the boss to have his feet propped up on the folding table and his chair kicked back? probably not. but if a job at the dive-y-est bar in cadelle is one's most fervent desire (and who wouldn't want to work with this shining mug?), an interview with either mick or kara is a must.

so sit down fill out the forms with one of many stolen pens from around the fair. like any job interview, scoring a job at criminales is all about confidence.]

c. name tags
[cue mick sneering at his name tag. whoever the fuck is responsible for these things deserves to be punched, of that much he is certain. still he dons the shitty piece of paper with pride. he dares someone to comment on it.

hello, my name is mick. i am a barely functional alcoholic who has more feelings than i'll ever let on. ]

d. wildcard
as always, if you'd like a closed starter or wanna shoot the shit or if you want me to tag into your stuff or whatever, i'm available on plurk or discord at heatwave#1853

If they think people will give up other things before cigarettes, they've never met me.

[Truthfully, he's gone days without food before, using the cigarettes to staunch the worst of the hunger, but he doesn't see the point of doing that if he doesn't have to. Still, asking for so much money for a pack of them makes him wonder whether the bounty on his head would even be worthwhile if it even still exists here at all, something he's yet to find out because it's not something he wants to go around asking]

Capita-what?

[It's like Goodnight all over again, what with Vasquez needing to either ignore it and pretend he understands or demand to know what he's talking about. While his English is just fine, he's also not sitting around sprouting off big words just to show off]

[mick's just finishing up an interview with a lanky young man who looks like a strong breeze will knock him over when bigby stops by. he's currently manning the booth solo because kara (and her little puffball of a dog) are off on their lunch break, so he holds up his index finger in the universal symbol that means wait a damn minute while he files away the last of the paperwork from his last interview. if he takes a little longer than necessary to make bigby wait, well, it's all a part of his process.

eventually, he looks up, takes in the scruffy, scarred face, the put together but still rough around the edges appearance. his mind's mostly made up from that first glance. but a snapshot opinion can definitely be swayed for better or worse once people open their mouths. he presses his palms together, pursing his lips as he tut tuts before responding.]

You're not wrong. I've got one guy already, but that doesn't mean I can't use more. Drunks tend to be rowdy. Why my bar though? It's not the only one in need of help.

[ Bigby's not exactly a pro in the field of economics, so giving a crash course in Capitalism 101 isn't his forte, but you don't live through literally all of American history without learning the ins and outs of how it functions. His brow furrows a bit, waving one hand vaguely as he tries to think of the shortest summary he can make up. ]

Basically... people control the economy, not the government. Means they can charge as high as they expect people will pay for something. Has its ups and downs.

[ He pulls a cigarette from his own pocket as he talks, taking the time to light it up once he's finished. ]

How long have you been here? This city, I mean.

[ Depending on the circumstances, Bigby's patience is a fluid thing. There are times when you need something and you need it now, and you don't take "hold on" for an answer. This is not one of those times - with so little knowledge of this place and its inhabitants it's way better to take things a bit slower, put things together piece by piece.

Plus, he knows the "I'm fucking busy wait a second" well enough from how often it's plastered on his own face.

So he stands there, arms folded over his chest, meeting the man's gaze as he's examined. ]

Used to go to a bar like it, back home.

[ Mostly to shake down people for information, but. Details. ]

I know how to read the room, sort out the troublemakers. Handle them if I have to. Plus, anything too upscale makes me break out in hives, so I figure this is a safe bet.

My interest in the music is the only reason why I'm interested in a job here. [ She's pretty, tiny, with a distinct 60's look that Baby's seen a couple of times at Halloween parties, and on a couple of the ladies he's driven in the past. He pulls out one of his earbuds, letting himself listen to the record she's picked.

When she holds out her hand, he takes off his sunglasses and then takes her hand, shaking it firmly. ]

Baby. If you're here for the music, what kind of job are you looking for?

[It doesn't exactly sound like anything Vasquez is going to like, if he's honest. He smokes instead of saying as much, mainly because he hadn't been lying when he'd talked about how important smoking is to him and right now, it's doing a good job in keeping him steady and calm]

Where I come from, you earn money doing jobs, but no one controls all the money. Then again, not much government I deal with, either.

[That's very much on purpose, of course, seeing as the government would like to have Vasquez dead and in a coffin in some small town to show for him killing one of their men, even though that man didn't even begin to deserve the few breaths he had in him before Vasquez shot him dead]

Few days, maybe a week. I can't seem to find a way to leave.

[He's also not entirely sure he wants to, just yet. It's strange and big and foreign, but no one seems to be chasing him so much just yet. It's not as good as a guarantee he's safe, but safer than before]

( kara's on her way back from grabbing something to eat, hands full with an overflowing basket of piping hot seasoned fries and a questionably overstuffed gyro in foil, when she quite literally bumps right into someone else. she hadn't even seen the other girl dart around from around someone else — kara had been speedwalking, eyes focused straight ahead, muttering excuse mes and sorrys as she manuevered through the busy crowd, trying to avoid anyone who she might recognize.

but, of course, her all-too-distracted mind had led her right into this most easily avoidable of catastrophes, and now her lunch was all over the pavement. thankfully, the foil wrapper had held up, keeping her sandwich presumably intact and, perhaps more importantly, keeping any tzatziki sauce from spilling out onto the other woman's very cute — and very green — dress. there might be some mess on her own outfit, but... well, better her than someone else, right? )

I am so sorry. ( it's sincere, at least. kara's not much of a person for sarcasm. ) Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?

( bending down, kara starts to sweep the now-dirty fries into their container, looking up and around for a nearby trashcan where she can dispose of the mess. doesn't seem to be one anywhere around. maybe she'll just have to wait til she gets back to the booth to incinerate it in private. )

SKILLS / CORRUPTING TODAY'S YOUTH ONE EVENT AT A TIME

[ when he's not off getting free food and drink, leonard can be found sitting behind a booth. it's incredibly bare, the only thing on it being a very small sign taped to the front that only says party tricks. other than that, it's just len and a deck of cards that he shuffles in his hands when there's no one around.

when there are people, well... there's a couple things he breaks out. the first and most obvious is a game of find the lady. the other is picking pockets. but that's only something that he does when he's got a good audience, and he gives everything back with a crooked smile and a quip. he doesn't do so much teaching as he does entertaining. at least, not unless someone asks or there's a younger crowd around. he absolutely teaches whatever kids and teenagers want to learn how to pick pockets and scam people.

what? just having a booth counts as a good deed. of course he's gonna take advantage of that and do something actually enjoyable in an attempt to get brownie points. ]

JOB FAIR / THE WEIRDEST NAME TAG

[ the day of the job fair, leonard mostly plans on making a nuisance of himself at the criminALES booth. even though he doesn't work there. it's moral support for his partner, alright? and a good excuse for people watching. sure, the name tag is... interesting. and not what he'd expected. like, at all. but he wears it right on his chest and gives anyone who stares at it too long a look.

it reads: hello, my name is leonard. i am the half-black, queer son of a dirty cop and it's a miracle i survived prison. he's found a marker (and by found he means he went and got a marker from somewhere other than the fair) and added a little smiley face to the end of it. ]

WILDCARD

[ feel free to hit me up with whatever. if you want me to write you a closed starter or something, feel free to hit me up on plurk (chanterie) or discord (lyn#3878) ]

[the intense visual grilling is mercifully brief as mick nods along to bigby's answer.

he's not as much of a hard ass as people make him out to be. also, he's really tired of being bartender AND security AND having to count down for the night. at least he has kara to help some nights.]

Pretty sure everyone who comes to my bar is a troublemaker. But if you can tell the ones who'll actually start shit versus the ones who're just there to get plastered you'll do. You feel a little uncomfortable when you walk in and they're trussed up like turkeys on Thanksgiving too?

( She's not a card player, really. Her friends talk her into games of poker and blackjack, but mostly Kate prefers playing anything else for their drinking games.

Then again, watching someone shuffle a deck and start with find the lady isn't a card game. It's a different kind of observation, and Kate waits until he finishes with a round to approach the desk, nodding her head at the sign. )

You lookin' to be hired for parties or summat?

( This place wants her to make friends, right? She's... attempting that. )

[ Jess actually did come in on a day Kara was doing the interviews. Which would be like a thousand watt solar-powered 100% green energy lamp asking a smashed light bulb-cum-crackpipe what it thinks it can contribute to a windowless room. Coming back the next day isn't about giving it another shot, it's about sneaking one, or two or three, as she wanders aimlessly along her next step on the job hunt, which would be most people's first: wonder what the hell marketable skills she even has.

It's unclear that the interviews from the other day are even going on still. It makes for good people watching, seeing someone go up against the owner(?) and bomb, or approach and then lose their nerve before getting a word out. She drinks along with the show until her thermos runs dry. She pats her pockets for cash to pick up a refill on the way home and comes up empty. Aaaah, crap. It's fate. That fucking bitch again. Jess swipes her finger along the rim of her thermos, licks the vodka from her finger and leaves the bar for the seat across from.... Bar guy. Guy who thinks bad puns are good business. Seriously, how are people scared of him? They read the sign above him, right? ]

This seat taken? [ It's not. And now it is, and she's manspreading as she pulls a sheet towards her to skim the questions. ]

Edited 2017-09-02 17:55 (UTC)

( Some people (read: Kate) couldn't find a pen to scribble anything out, so her name tag still states her full name (Katherine Galloway) and her stupid nickname (Katydid) rather than anything she would have actually put on it.

(If she had her choice, it would have been: My name is Kate, I like free beers.)

Anyway. She's not too concerned about her name tag right now, because she's trying, and failing, to read the guy's name here. )

Your name's what?

( Fine. She gives. )

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 13

EVENT: WHY DON'T YOU GET A JOB?

Baby | Baby Driver | OTA

bigby wolf | fables/the wolf among us | ota

isabelle lightwood | shadowhunters

vasquez | magnificent 7 | ota

i.

no subject

gaby teller ▸ open

▸ job

no subject

Matt Murdock | Open to Alll

kara danvers • supergirl

kate galloway. ota.

▸mick rory | dctv

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

↪ job fair

leonard snart ▸ ota

no subject

skills

b fob jair wish i was drunk rn

name tags~