Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Aislinn on 09-04-2016, 01:10:29</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aislinn</strong> on <strong>09-04-2016, 01:10:29</strong>
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				<div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e8/Oncebanner.jpg)</div><br><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Links for "<em>Once Upon a Time</em>" ensemble story</strong></span></div><div align="center">Interest Check - Recruitment Thread (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=244715.0)<br>OOC Thread (for writers already involved) (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=246429.0)<br>Enchanted Forest Profiles (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=247466.0)</div><br><div align="center">[Once Upon a Time] Storybrooke (Post-Curse) - NSC (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=248397.0)<br>[Once Upon a Time] Storybrooke (Post Curse) - SC (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=248398.0)<br>[Once Upon a Time] Enchanted Forest (Pre Curse) - NSC (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=248399.0)<br>[Once Upon a Time] Enchanted Forest (Pre Curse) - SC (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=248400.0)</div><br><strong><span class="bbc_u"><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size">Guidelines to remember for story purposes:</span></span></strong><br><br>#1 - The story begins when Emma arrives in Storybrooke. This is post curse #1. All characters (with the exception of Regina/Evil Queen and Mr. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin) know only their Storybrooke identities. Any and all information contained in their character bios about their early life would be memories that the curse put there. Any knowledge of one's previous life needs GM clearance...for now.<br><br>#2 - Henry Mills does exist...but he is not to be used directly in ANY way. Writers can refer to him only.<br><br>#3 - Strangers don't wander into Storybrooke....ever. Emma is the first. The residents of Storybrooke know that visitors are rare but don't seem to think much of it.<br><br>#4 - Please contact GM if you plan to use any other character as an NPC.<br><br>#5- Be courteous to other writers. Please inform them ahead of time of any plans that involve their characters. If there is an issue that can't be resolved between two writers, please contact the GM.<br><br>#6 - This is a collaborative story! Have fun and let's make this an amazing read for everyone!
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aislinn</strong> on <strong>12-04-2016, 03:25:01</strong>
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				<div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/e8/Oncebanner.jpg)</div><br><span style="font-size: 22pt;" class="bbc_size">H</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;" class="bbc_size">e was convincing. Stealing a quick look in the direction of two retreating figures - one of which had been her companion for the evening - she mulled over the events of the past few hours and tried to come up with any indication that the young man was disturbed or anything other then what he appeared to be…but she kept coming up empty. Neither was it the first time in the latest few hours that she had engaged in said activity. But no matter how many times Emma went over it, the results were the same…<br><br>He believed every word of what he was saying.<br><br>‘He’ would be the young man that had appeared at her door in Boston earlier. ‘He’ said his name was Henry and that he was the biological son she had given up so many years ago. As jarring as that piece of information was, he was just getting started with the bombshells. Apparently he lived in a small little coastal town called Storybrooke and he was absolutely convinced that his adoptive mother was some sort of evil queen and all the residents within were actually characters from fairy tales and legends! ‘He’ needed her help…or so he said.<br><br>The logical being inside of her screamed that there was simply no way anything Henry had told her could be remotely possible. So why was it that she felt so compelled to help him? Emma had internally reasoned that it wasn’t irrational that she wanted to make sure he made it back home safely. Even if nothing he said was true…what kind of person would she be if she didn’t at least help him get back to the people that cared about him? If he were her child, wouldn't she want someone else....<br><br>Nevermind that line of thinking. He was claiming to be exactly that.<br><br>Fairy tales? Seriously? <br><br>The drive took but a few hours and before she had really had a chance to digest what she was being told, the mysterious Storybrooke materialized before her eyes. Oddly enough, it looked like every other small sleepy town she had ever seen. Granted…it was far into the night but nothing struck her as particularly unusual. Fog hung lazily in the air like thick drapes of silk…as it so often did in harbor towns. The quiet was eerie but somehow instead of it feeling odd, it was somewhat soothing. Things in the city were rarely so calm and it was nice to be able to hear one’s own thoughts for once. On the other side of that coin was the thought that many people that enjoyed larger cities perhaps were hiding from said thoughts so maybe they embraced the noise?<br><br>Musings for another time.</span><br><br><br><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/da/Storybrooke.jpg)</div><br><br><span style="font-size: 22pt;" class="bbc_size">H</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;" class="bbc_size">enry hadn’t wanted to be dropped off at home so Emma drove them into the heart of the town, hoping inspiration would strike in the form of another apparent suggestion. It did…just not in the form she had been expected. A gentleman and his dog had wandered past them - possibly on an evening stroll - and it was evident from their greetings that Henry and this “Dr. Hopper” were acquaintances. A few more moments of conversation went by and a compromise was struck. If she promised to stay in town overnight, Henry would go home. Watching the pair walk away was difficult…but not in the way that would be most apparent. Emma was not the type of person that allowed others to dictate what she did…but in this case, she was making an exception. There was something ‘off’ about the situation and Emma never backed down from a mystery. She strove to understand things around her and this was no different. There was nothing back in Boston that needed her immediate attention so a few days poking around couldn’t hurt anything.<br><br>For the moment, all she seemed to need was a place to stay. Dr.Hopper had mentioned a place named “Granny’s” and given some general directions, also mentioning that having strangers in town was something highly unusual. It wasn’t hard to find the place and in a matter of minutes she found herself in a comfortably quaint inn-like lobby. Granny herself was a fairly no-nonsense type of woman….and Emma could appreciate that. She asked no questions and simply handed her the key to her room. It was possible, of course, that the lateness of the hour contributed to the older woman’s indifference on the matter of the town newcomer. Sleep and the dawn of a new day would probably bring out the town’s curiosity...but that would lead to a new problem.<br><br>What was she going to tell them?<br><br>Unknown to Emma, her decision to stay in Storybrooke had caused at least one change. The broken clock in the city tower…moved forward. It was not something Emma herself would ever notice but there were certainly people in town that would...and would know what it signified.</span><br><br><br><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/45/Clocktower.jpg)</div><br>………<br><br><span style="font-size: 22pt;" class="bbc_size">M</span><span style="font-size: 13pt;" class="bbc_size">orning came with birds chirping and sun shining. Emma recalled Granny saying something about her diner next door and decided that it would probably be a good idea to get some food in her stomach before doing anything else. Grabbing her jacket, she left the coziness of her room and ventured downstairs to the entrance to the diner. Busy…but not overly so. Granny acknowledged her presence with a nod and waved her to a seat at the counter. Noting to herself that the older woman’s demeanor apparently didn’t change with the time of day, she lowered herself onto the stool and began to look over the menu.</span><br><br><br><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/06/Grannys.jpg)</div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Bibliophilia</strong> on <strong>12-04-2016, 04:39:53</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://41.media.tumblr.com/23072486783f7573788656093f07461f/tumblr_nl79zdaiSw1rexg1uo1_500.jpg)</div>Name: Soren Magnus<br>Occupation: Carpenter<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner<br>Tagging: N/A|Open<br><hr><hr><br>Soren's battered truck rattled loudly as he tossed a large bag of charcoal over the side to join the other supplies in the bed, an expression of mild annoyance furrowing his brow.&nbsp; He tended to wear that precise expression any time he was forced to venture into town for supplies, which probably explained why most of the other citizens of Storybrooke gave him his space.&nbsp; He peeled off his work gloves and tucked them in the back pocket of his jeans, turning to face the general store owner as the man joined him by his truck.&nbsp; "I'll be back in an hour to pick up the rest of the supplies."&nbsp; He seemed unaffected by the man's nod and smile, failing to return it as he moved toward Granny's.<br><br>Every two weeks he made the trek into town from his trailer in the woods, it had become a routine, and he dreaded it every time.&nbsp; It wasn't that he disliked the other people in town, or even really knew any of them, he just preferred the solitude of his own plot of land, away from everyone.&nbsp; It was safer that way...for everyone.&nbsp; Still, if he was going to be forced to come to town, he wasn't going to pass up the chance for a decent meal from Granny's.&nbsp; It beat the hell out of his own pathetic attempts at cooking, which typically involved a microwave or his grill.&nbsp; The bell over the door rang as he opened it, ducked slightly and stepped inside, glancing around briefly before heading for the booth at the back, nearest the restrooms.<br><br>He managed to fold his legs under the table and slide to the center of the bench facing the door, seeming to take up even more space wedged into the booth than he'd appeared outside of it.&nbsp; He picked up the menu and ducked behind it, peering at the options, even though he always ordered the same thing and had pretty much memorized the menu by heart.&nbsp; He found that staring at the damn thing helped to deter anyone who hadn't yet given up trying to make nice.&nbsp; As he waited for service, he listened to the voices around him, drinking it all in.&nbsp; As much as he hated being in town, part of him craved the time he spent here, since it was the only form of human contact he typically experienced.&nbsp; There was something soothing in the day-to-day lives of these people, and having breakfast at Granny's was the best way to catch up on anything and everything that was going on in town.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GnothiSeauton</strong> on <strong>12-04-2016, 06:45:03</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/dsETKzc.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Chas Fortier<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Animal Control<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner - Counter<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Mentioning Soren, Emma<br><br><hr><br>It was still an early morning, with the dew still fresh upon the ground, but for Chas, it felt more like midday with his own schedule.&nbsp; When most people were still enjoying a late snooze, his day was often already kicked into high gear.&nbsp; A simple breakfast at home, a vigorous work out, usually kicking out whomever shared his bed the previous evening (occasionally adding in a different sort of workout) before getting out and about.&nbsp; <br><br>He had a reputation to keep, as the town's most eligible bachelor, in his own humble opinion.<br><br><em>Case in point</em>, he thought, as he sat at the counter of the diner and looked at the sort of riff-raff that was his competition among the hearts and minds of the fairer sex of the town.&nbsp; The weird and crazy hermit that lived out in the woods, in some trailer.&nbsp; Chas had watched him enter the place in his usual way, retreating to the back of the diner.&nbsp; The competition.&nbsp; Ha!&nbsp; What did that fool have that he didn't?&nbsp; Some bird shit and a run down trailer?&nbsp; A piece of crap truck? <em>Competition</em>, he thought disdainfully with a snort.<br><br><em>Nobody slays the ladies like me</em>, he thought as he went back to his usual plate of eggs and coffee.<br><br>Speaking of ladies, he thought to himself, with a reflection upon the new, strange face in town.&nbsp; It was hard for any woman to escape Chas's attention.&nbsp; The new girl was no different.&nbsp; She was cute.&nbsp; <em>I'd do her</em>, he thought to himself with a glance down to her, taking a bite of eggs.&nbsp; But he didn't dare approach her.&nbsp; No.&nbsp; Not yet.&nbsp; Let some other fools break the ice with her, make her see what sort of dregs the men around town were, before he would ride in like a knight in shining armor.<br><br>Instead, he turned back to the newspaper beside his eggs, just staring at the pictures as he bided his time.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Clio</strong> on <strong>12-04-2016, 08:48:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://ilarge.lisimg.com/image/6457318/1118full-emilie-de-ravin.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Belle French<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Librarian<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Mentioning Soren, Chas, Emma<br><br><hr><br>One of the effects of the curse was the routine of the town. Of course, that didn't mean Belle French minded. She had her library, small though it was, and she had most everything she needed right here in Storybrooke. She'd never been one for big cities, so this suited her just fine. However, she longed to travel and explore the world. Learn its secrets and experience the adventures she'd read about. The only problem was that no one ever seemed to actually leave Storybrooke. <br><br>Her father owned the flower shop in town, and they were extremely close, so she never felt lonely or in need of companionship. Perhaps it was true that she didn't have much of a 'social life,' but that was more by choice than anything else. It wasn't that she didn't like people. She loved them, and she was friendly and likeable. It was just that she tended to prefer books. She always had her nose stuck in a book, and her head up in the clouds. That made it a bit difficult to not be thought of as a bit peculiar by most other girls her age. <br><br>She hadn't ever really had interest in dating either, which led to rumors...of course. That didn't prevent boys from offering, but most gave up after she politely refused a few times. Maybe it was her own fault for reading too many fantasies and romances, but she couldn't imagine just 'dating' someone. She wanted someone who made her heart race at least a little. She wasn't naive enough to think it would be love at first sight, but at least <em>something</em>. <br><br>Every morning before she opened up the library, she had a croissant and a cup of tea at Granny's Diner. Granny knew just how she liked her English breakfast tea. Two lumps of sugar and a dash of cream. This morning the chesnut haired young woman wore a brown plaid skirt and a draped gray shirt that hugged her petite curves nicely. (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/9b/8c/cf/9b8ccf01ff4b4504e1a398bdb0b77674.jpg) Brown boots completed the ensemble, and her brunette curls framed her pretty face perfectly as she entered the restaurant with the tell-tale jingle of the bell above the door.<br><br>She noticed a few things as she entered. First was, of course, the blonde newcomer. Storybrooke never had visitors, so this was unusual. With a kind smile, Belle passed by Emma and took a seat at her usual table by one of the shuttered windows. One of the other things she noticed was Soren Magnus. He was a local carpenter, but he was loner who only ventured into town every couple of weeks. Luckily, because Belle ate in Granny's every day, she saw him each time he visited. She'd always felt the pull to talk to him, but he usually made it quite clear that he wasn't open to socializing. Perhaps today she'd go over anyway. After all, she did need some repairs done to the shelves in the library, so she had a good reason. If not today, then maybe she could visit him at his trailer. See where he lived...<br><br>Her curious fantasy was interrupted when she also saw that one of her 'favorite' people in town was present. Chas Fortier. Egostical womanizer and muscle-head extraordinaire. Hoping that she could avoid his attention, she met Granny's eyes and silently pleaded for the older woman to not draw attention to her. However, in such a small diner, the hope was pointless...and she knew it. Getting out the book she had with her--Belle always had a book in her purse--she opened it up and started to read about the history of ancient Britain. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Sergeant</strong> on <strong>12-04-2016, 18:41:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1159.photobucket.com/albums/p621/PocketWatching/Naamloos_zpsrfizrkty.png)</div>Name: Glenn Sahar<br>Occupation: Handyman<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner - Counter<br>Tagging: Emma<br><hr><br>Another day, another pile of pancakes to be washed down with the bitter, and much needed, taste of Granny's fresh coffee. Even though it had stopped ticking ages ago, the city tower's clock seemed to silently rewind every single night in Storybrooke. But nobody seeming to notice, or care. Life was simple and peaceful and there was no reason one should try to stir things up. Sure, it would take a few more years for Glenn to actually feel like he was getting closer to his goal of being an entrepreneur, but money was steady and he never went to bed hungry. What more could anybody ask for... right? <br><br>Truth was, the tanned man was bored out of his mind. And frustrated. Like his own, there were many strong personalities around- yet none of them would dare go against Mr. Gold, Mayor Mills, or the likes of their 'beloved' sheriff. It was as if there was an invisible wall keeping them in their place. He wasn't asking for much, if only they were allowed to have weekly meetings to discuss ideas he'd at least feel like more than just a pawn in a game of chess. <br><br>For now, he took satisfaction in filling his stomach; the fried batter being one of the few things that could keep his mind from bursting open and greasing the walls. And then a stranger walked in. A female stranger. A blonde, female stranger. Glenn tried testing his memory and see if he could recall the last time a perfect stranger had entered Storybrooke. Surprisingly enough, he couldn't. At all. <br><br>"I'd go for the either the pancakes or the waffles, Granny makes the best ones in town." His mouth moved into a smile as he spoke, blocking himself from going back to recall a past that was unreachable. "Not that there's another diner around." 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>King Serperior</strong> on <strong>12-04-2016, 18:47:21</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/46/Walle.jpg)</div>Name: Wally Rustman<br>Occupation: Scrapyard Owner<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner<br>Tagging: N/A | Soren, Chas, Emma, and Belle (mentioned)<br><hr><br>BOOM!<br><br>The sound of the backfiring truck rang out like a small explosion, causing a mass of birds in the nearby trees to take flight in great haste and making the windows of Granny's Diner shake.&nbsp; Anyone caught outside or near a window would see the usual sight of a heavily rusted truck that might have once been an yellowish-orange and looked a few hundreds years old.&nbsp; More noticeable than that, however, was the mismatched, patchwork repairs that were made:&nbsp; One door was blue, the other door was green, the roof was black, and the hood was white.&nbsp; Well, they were once those colors, but the paint was scraped off in many places and rust was covering others.&nbsp; Heck, it looked like the only thing gluing the truck together <em>was</em> rust!<br><br>The driver of the truck stepped out of the cab and stretched in the early morning light.&nbsp; Standing in the parking area, inhaling deeply, was Wally Rustman, the owner of the town scrapyard, <em>Junk's Treasure</em>.&nbsp; In all truth, he looked just a little better than his truck, his well-worn overalls covered with stains of rust, oil, grease, and dirt.&nbsp; The black shirt under it was also rather dirty, but one could see the NASA logo and the image of a space shuttle fairly well.&nbsp; Around his waist hung a heavy belt with random tools and strange pieces of metal, many of which served a seemingly unknown purpose.&nbsp; Over his head, nearly crushing his wild curls of hair, was a pair of old aviator goggles.<br><br>Though Wally wasn't the most physically imposing person around, he had a lean body that only came from a life of crawling up and over and even under piles of treacherous junk, dragging scrap from one side of the yard to the other, and sculpting statues that have weigh nearly half a ton and stand almost ten feet high.&nbsp; Granted, he didn't carry those completed sculptures around, but he did work a manual crane system to lift them up enough for a trailer to be maneuvered under them.&nbsp; As Wally looked through the windows, he waved vigorously at anyone who happened to be staring out of them before closing the door of his truck and making his way inside.<br><br>As Wally stepped into the Diner, causing the bell to ring lightly, he raised a welcoming hand to Granny before finding a single table near one of the windows where he ordered his usual, the <em>Sunshine Special,</em> a plate of eggs, a biscuit, a single pancake, and a large glass of orange juice.&nbsp; As he waited for his order to come back, he looked around and saw a few familiar faces, such as that Chas guy.&nbsp; Wally wasn't really fond of him, but Chas never seemed to come around <em>Junk's Treasure</em>.&nbsp; His eyes glided around the room and saw the librarian, Belle and the reclusive woodsman, Soren.&nbsp; Those two weren't bad people, but he couldn't recall ever seeing them enter his scrapyard.&nbsp; Finally, his eyes landed on the new person.&nbsp; Wally raised an eyebrow curiously, but his breakfast order arrived by then and his attention turned to it instead.<br><br>The reason that Wally was here was because he was waiting for Jazz to arrive.&nbsp; Wally had received a shipment of scrap late last night, which was unusual since he only ever received his shipments twice-weekly, but this pile looked promising.&nbsp; Even the slightest glance showed that this pile had treasure like none other in quantities unlike the usual.&nbsp; After the truck left, Wally called Jazz, despite the late hour, and told her to meet him at Granny's in the morning because he has acquired something amazing that she must see!&nbsp; At first, the girl refused and wanted to return to sleeping, but after saying that she would have first pick on the treasures bound to be in there, she finally agreed.&nbsp; Now, it was just a matter of time before Jazz arrived...
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AlphaWolfQuin</strong> on <strong>13-04-2016, 04:26:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQNI5f57fgoLKAYI7LfdXJVMdAh-KujA4EVRta8nSajX-xHLZu97A)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Krystopher Dane<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Construction Worker<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> All, Open<br><br><hr><br>The day had started off like every other day had since as far back as he could remember. Krystopher woke up to the loud beeping of his cheap alarm clock at 5AM, showered, threw a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt on along with his work boots, then headed to his job while downing a few cereal bars and a bottle of chocolate milk on the way. Of course by the time the sun came up and Granny's Diner opened for the day, the young man would have to stop in during his first break. Something he always did, everyday without fail. He even ordered the same meal, sat in the same spot, and always brought his work with him somehow. Whether it be all over his clothing or etched across a blueprint that he would have his face glued to while he ate. The young man rarely did any talking to the other patrons unless he knew them or they addressed him first due to the fact he wasn't really there to socialize. No. He was there to fill his stomach then get back to work and that was how he liked it.<br><br>He walked up to the diner just as a loud bang echoed out causing him to jump slightly before he looked to the direction it had come from. Once he seen Wally's truck he smiled softly then continued along his path, giving the man a friendly smile and nodding a 'hello' before making his way inside and heading straight for the counter. He slid into the stool at the far end and looked around briefly taking in everyone's faces before looking to Granny, "Coffee please, black extra sugar and the usual, thank you" ,Krystopher stated in a kind and respectful tone before opening up a book that he had carried in with him. Within seconds, the young man lifted the book up covering his face purposefully as he read. Of course, he wasn't reading any fairytales or some story for entertainment, he was reading what looked to be a book on old buildings and their designs. Yet again, something to do with work in some form.<br><br>As he flipped through the pages of his book, Krystopher took another look around the place before raising an eyebrow and lowering his book once he seen Emma. His gaze then went to Glenn as he spoke to the newcomer. The man's words causing Krystopher, for the first time since....well ever, to lose interest in what he was reading at the moment. Something felt off but he couldn't figure out exactly why. Sure there hadn't been any new faces in StoryBrooke for as long as he had lived there but it wasn't so odd for it to happen, right? He had been steadily going to Granny's everyday and never once thought of the fact it was because it was indeed the only diner in town. Not that he would complain about the service he received regardless but still....it made him think. It made him think hard and not just about the whole diner thing but about all the other things he casually looked over. Like the fact that he had no clue where he had come from, what his childhood was like, who his parents were, or whether or not he had been in this quiet Maine town his entire life or of he too was once the new face that stuck out like a sore thumb to all the locals. There was nothing there. No memories, except for his daily routine he had been doing for years. Or so it seemed.<br><br>After a few moments of simply looking back and forth between Emma and Glenn, Krystopher opened his mouth to say something right before his attention was drawn to the cup of coffee set down in front of him. The young man shook his head slightly before closing his mouth and once more lifting his book up in front of his face while reaching for his cup. There was no time for him to dwell on anything at the moment nor was there any time for him to play twenty one questions with people. He had to get back to work once he was finished eating and h didn't want to risk getting caught up in a conversation he knew damn well would only distract him further which in turn would take focus away from his job. Which was something he just couldn't allow. Even if it was damn near impossible to resist at the moment.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ember Star</strong> on <strong>13-04-2016, 06:44:56</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2b/Kristina_Larkina.jpeg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Jazz Chenner<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Owner of the Shop "Madness Abides"<br><strong>Time:</strong> Morning - 1st day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong> Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Wally - mentions Emma <br>Outfit (http://ak1.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-set/cid/57762458/id/yPR82JIYQhCgQ4PVYqYXWw/size/y.jpg)<br><hr><br>Once you moved past her oddities of dress and mannerism, the little woman was seemingly not much in stature. For <em>little</em> would indeed be the appropriate size scale to judge her by. She barely cracked the height of five feet, three inches, she in fact didn't crack that height, she was somewhere below it but above five feet, two inches. Though she would deny anything except five feet, three inches to your face. She was also small in body, lithe and thin, like a little ballerina. She moved with the grace one might associate with a dancer as well, though she hadn't the stiff rigidness of one. In fact, she had more of the loose dreamy ease of movement that made one think of flower children. Though she wasn't dressed like one today. Primarily in black with her hair in a long loose only third brushed mess. What was the point of brushing hair vigorously so early in morning anyway? <br><br>Her shop/apartment wasn't that far Granny's. Nor was it that close incidentally. Still, she walked. Curse that boy and his perfectly fine head of hair for getting her out into the sunlight this early. She paused to make a slight hissing noise at the big Yellow Face in the sky. She actually liked the sun, but she was up nearly all night. So it wasn't fully welcomed to her groggy pale violet-gray eyes. But then, it was just as well. She sensed town was fixing to get a tad more interesting here and now, for whatever reason that was. Besides, groggy or not, fresh treasures were always a welcomed treat to get up for if she was to be one of the first to dig through them. Curious though, that he had such an sudden delivery. <br><br>A sound from above made her pause in her tracks. Her eyes glazed up to find the hand on the old clock tower moving. She grinned. Clocks were so much prettier when they worked. That's why she took such care with the ones she made and revived. "Tick tock, tick tock." She muttered cheerfully to herself. <br><br>"Hickory dickory dock," she began to sing as she started down the sidewalk again. Her voice soft and sweet with an slight subtle - not even noticeable - strangely mocking undertone. She skipped a bit as she sang the old children's nursery rhyme.<br><br><br><em>"Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck one<br>The mouse ran down,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck two<br>And down he flew,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck three<br>And he did flee,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck four,<br>He hit the floor,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck five,<br>The mouse took a dive,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck six,<br>That mouse, he split,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>The clock struck seven,<br>8, 9, 10, 11,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>The mouse ran up the clock,<br>As twelve bells rang,<br>The mousie sprang,<br>Hickory Dickory dock.<br><br>Hickory Dickory dock,<br>'Why scamper?' asked the clock,<br>'You scare me so<br>I have to go!'<br>Hickory Dickory dock."</em><br><br>She reached the final verse just as she reached the door of the diner. Stepping in, she came to a stop and widened her eyes ever so slightly as she glanced around at the gathering crowd. Not that it was wholly unusual to have a crowd. Half the citizens of the small town seemed incapable of making their own breakfast, the other half just liked the diner for a meeting place. the very reason she herself was there. Her curious eyes found what didn't belong as easily as if it were a picture in a children's activity book. The blonde woman was it. Yet despite the town's stranger repellent quality, something about her did seem to belong. She raised an eyebrow at the back of the woman's head. "Curious indeed." She muttered lowly in a volume no one by herself could have heard. <br><br>Satisfied with her scan, she spun on her toes like a top with its cord suddenly pulled and made off in Wally's direction. "Fine morning to you." She said in jest with a huff then sat down across from him. "If fine if it could indeed be called and if your perception of fine and mine are indeed similar." She raised an eyebrow at him and grinned a toothy grin. "So, did the blonde bring you your delivery or did two entirely unrelated things happen in one day? Wait... no, three. They finally fixed the clock. The town shall soon be in a mad frenzy of panic over all these sudden exciting things at once. Why, they'll be flocking to my shop for calming candles and incense." She laughed, it was clear and cheerful, a bit of a chuckle but also somewhat musical and joking.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Devilyn Sydhe</strong> on <strong>13-04-2016, 11:21:48</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1076.photobucket.com/albums/w448/KalebHyde/Mobile%20Uploads/raven-cs96_zpsteleamfc.jpg)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Jason 'Trey' Richards III<br><strong>Occupation: </strong>Unemployed<br><strong>Time: </strong>Morning - 1st day A.E.<br><strong>Location: </strong>Granny's Diner <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open, mentions Emma <br><hr><br>Trey rested at an otherwise empty table within Granny's as he so often did, whiskey influenced cup of hot tea steaming before him with intention of chasing away the pain rolling about in his skull from the prior evening.&nbsp; Details of the night remained foggy, a consequence of an alcohol addled memory, but the one thing which was clear was that the party had gone on far too late for him to be conscious this damn early.&nbsp; There he was, however, with crimson tinged raven curls falling down before a pair of barely open icy blue eyes while some small part of him thought maybe he should make something of the day for once before a dismissive smirk would form and another sip taken.<br><br>His eyes would widen slightly each time the sound of entry into the diner could be heard, partially from curiosity though overwhelmingly from the fact that each ring of that infernal bell seemed to bring back that ache inside his head.&nbsp; A silent cursing grazed his lips when the backfiring truck shook the window though he held no true ill will for any.&nbsp; Each was a familiar face to him, to at least some extent, as nothing ever really seemed to change.&nbsp; Same people with their same habits, same jobs, same lives.&nbsp; He knew that sort of order and structure would have driven him straight out of his mind, thus he chose the 'chaos' of spending every day haunting the town's varied businesses and every night in a bottle or, on a good night, with a bad woman.<br><br>Such living did hold disadvantages as it often found Trey at odds with what the citizenry considered the law.&nbsp; He sat up a bit straighter as he remembered he would soon be once more standing in front of a judge pleading his case to the court's mercy.&nbsp; Just what was wrong with a little smash and grab when something caught the eye of a young lady he was showing a good time?&nbsp; Sure the fortune left by his deceased father could have likely bought such objects tenfold, but then where would the fun be in that.&nbsp; The money did always seem useful, however, when it came to avoiding serious punishment despite how 'off-with-his-head' his accuser might be.<br><br>He finally decided to push out such thoughts of potential incarceration by feigning a keener interest in his surroundings as he absently smoothed out a wrinkle in his obviously slept-in, black Slayer t-shirt.&nbsp; Just as he had suspected earlier, the place seemed filled with the usual suspects, people he knew but most likely wouldn't want to admit knowing him.&nbsp; He smiled lightly as he considered the men to be far more fitting of society's standards.&nbsp; Conformists he considered them though most saw nothing wrong with holding a job and making a life within community standards.&nbsp; The women in town either wanted nothing to do with him or didn't wish to admit knowing him in polite company.&nbsp; Trey's average looks and average build very seldom attracted on first impression and he often treated his inheritance with disdain.&nbsp; Those few who did get closer often found their walk on the wild side one they kept hidden away.<br><br>Trey's gaze would continue its subtle judgment, slipping from one to another to the next when abruptly he would double take, shifting back to the blonde at the counter.&nbsp; Those blues would narrow as they crawled down her spine in assessment.&nbsp; The tea cup met his lips as a small inner voice sing-songed <em>one of these things is not like the others, one of these things doesn't belong</em>.&nbsp; He brought the tea cup back to the table a bit harshly as he had felt the lukewarm contents on his chin.&nbsp; The back of his hand then quickly rose to wipe his flesh in hopes no one had noticed as he sat back wondering if he was losing his mind.&nbsp; His blues slowly returned to Emma though attempting to hide his interest in one his brain could find no previous memory existing.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GnothiSeauton</strong> on <strong>14-04-2016, 08:26:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/dsETKzc.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Chas Fortier<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Animal Control<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner - Counter ---&gt;&nbsp; Belle's Table<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Belle<br><br><hr><br>The door to Granny's seemed to be in a perpetual state of opening and closing, with the inhabitants of the town wandering in to start their day.&nbsp; Each one of them garnered a look over from Chas, pulling his eyes away from the pictures of the newspaper to see who was coming in, what sort of competition he might have for the stranger's attention.&nbsp; He had been focused on them, sizing them up from his seat at the counter, when She came in the diner.<br><br>In the influx of patrons, he had missed her at first, but as he looked around the dining room, there was no mistaking her.&nbsp; Typical, he thought, eyeing her sitting alone in her booth, nose buried in a book.&nbsp; An amused snort came from him, shaking his head slightly as he turned his attention back to the remaining eggs upon his plate.&nbsp; That was his Belle, alright.<br><br>He never had a problem with women.&nbsp; There was a natural charm, a natural ease, that came from somewhere deep within his heart and mind, when it came to talking to women.&nbsp; However many he had&nbsp; swooned into an intimate moment, Chas had lost count.&nbsp; Faces and bodies became blurs in his mind, past triumphs and successes with the fairer sex of Storybrooke.&nbsp; But he never forgot, and would never forget, the seemingly unconquerable beauty that had seemed impervious to his charms and advances.<br><br>A few bills were pulled from his pocket, settling his bill with Granny after finishing the last bit of his breakfast, and turning his attentions once again to the one he simply could not catch.<br><br>“My my, aren't you looking fine as ever.” Chas said as he approached Belle at her usual little hiding spot, a grin upon his face.&nbsp; He didn't wait for an invitation before taking a seat down opposite her at her table.&nbsp; Chas wasn't about to let her gain that opportunity so easily.&nbsp; “What are you reading this time, beautiful?”<br><br>Chas would reach out, taking the book into his hand, before looking down upon the title.&nbsp; A gentle nod of his head would come, as if understanding what the title was, before flipping through the pages of text and text.&nbsp; “What is it with you and books, anyways?&nbsp; This one doesn't have any pictures in it.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rel Mayer</strong> on <strong>14-04-2016, 17:48:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.northindiatimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/nandana-sen-hot-7.gif)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Jasmine Misra<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Fortune Teller<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Outside Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; OPEN <br><br><hr><br>The day was just like it always was. Perfect and exactly the way Jasmine had anticipated it to be. She saw it somewhere in the cards, when she was doing her own personal reading with her tarot last night, and she drew the exact same three cards. Anticipating the exact same morning when she finally awoke, except something was different...<br><br>It all started with Rajah. Usually her lovely orange tabby cat would slip on top of her in the morning. Pool between the soft mounds of her breads while she kneaded into her skin. Enough to prick her dark chocolate eyes awake in a moment! Of course Jasmine could never be upset with Rajah, knowing it was just part of her cat mannerisms, but she'd slip to the fridge and feed her lovely and protective cat a little bit of milk. But not today! Today her cat did not wake her up, and when she finally fluttered her eyes open (almost an hour later) she noticed her cat growling and hissing at the window of her small shack that doubled as her place of work. "<em><strong>Rajah!</strong></em>" she would exclaim to her cat, who refused to move her attention away from the window. Jasmine thought a bit of milk would help, but as she opened the refrigerator door and felt the chilling breeze against her face--awaking her. She noticed that she was also out of milk.<br><br>"<em><strong>How did I forget to pick-up milk? I never forget,</strong></em>" she murmured to herself as she slipped her hands to the nearest ghagra, which was light beige color that shimmered in the perfect lighting. Slipping it over the natural curves of her tans skin, she threw her simple t-shirt off and tossed it to the window. Hearing the growling hiss of Rajah as she turned her head to her cat. Not realizing that she had thrown her shirt over her poor, large cat who was now slowly prowling backwards to try and escape the prison confinement! The green top slipped over her chest, leaving her flat and tan stomach visible with a silver piece of jewelry hooked to her belly button. <br><br>Her dark hair was ridiculously long and hung around the small of her back, dancing around the curve of her ass cheeks as she dashed out of the house and headed toward the nearest General Store. Already placing her earbuds into her ears, as she turned her MP3 player to her favorite bollywood album. A rhythmical bounce in her step&nbsp; as she hopped, skipped and danced her way to the general store. Her hands chimed against the nearest traffic pole that she crossed by. She tapped her foot to her favorite beat against the cement, and she even leaned into to clap her hands against the long truck that was always placed right outside Granny's dinner! Her hands reached out to bang against the car, but was greeted by the absence of nothing.<br><br>"<strong>Uh oh...</strong>" Jasmine suddenly gasped as she felt herself falling forward. Her life flashing before her eyes in slow motion, while the white earbuds that were hidden behind her thick hair popped out, and danged in front of her. The pavement of the ground met her knees and her hands before she could catch herself, and before she knew it... she felt her elbows digging into the hard sidewalk. Unforgiving to her sudden mistake, and her eyes glimmered at a bright yellow bug that was in front of her. A sting of her skin scratching against the cement, and she quickly rolled to her back on the cement. Utterly embarrassed and defeated as she turned her head to the yellow car once again. "<strong>I don't remember seeing this in the cards last night,</strong>" she said raising her freshly cut palm to her forehead, wincing from the as she attempted to help herself up from her fall. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BruceTheCat</strong> on <strong>14-04-2016, 18:37:40</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fd/a4/9d/fda49d9b214e57f086a2aa5513fc3f34.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Barry Louis<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Town Hermit<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Outside Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Jasmine, OPEN <br><br><hr><br>"<strong>Bum bum bum, doooo dut do du do.</strong>" Barry hummed lightly to himself like he did every morning. Same tune progression, same notes as always while he slowly marched through the underbrush towards the main road of town. His mouth turned up in a pleased grin as the anticipation of getting his morning treat settled on his thoughts. "<strong>Bum bum bum, doooo dut do du do.</strong>" His hand reached out to push a branch away from smacking him in the face, jumping over a fallen log and landing in the ditch which bordered the concrete road. Like everyday he'd woken up early. Tidied up a few things around his shack and heated up a pot of tea. He'd watch the sunrise, as always, then head in to town to visit the local bakery just after it had opened. All while quietly humming the made up song without words, and letting his hips and boots dance a little jig during the short walk. It might have seemed a little ridiculous. A giant man like Mr. Barry Louis asking for a bakers dozen of chocolate donuts with extra sprinkles. But in this town everyone had their own mysterious habits that never changed! This was just Barry's personal vice.<br><br>The man fit his wife frame through the door and asked the pretty lady behind the counter how she was doing, as normal, then stared up for a brief second at the chalk menu above her. There were so many delicious options! His large mouth opened to repeat the same ordered he'd placed for... well forever, but then in the last second hesitated. For whatever reason, he noticed an item on the menu he'd never taken enough time to actually read. His fingers scratched at the beard on his chin, and (feeling a bit adventurous today) changed his order. "<strong>Let me get one of them Bear Claws... With extra honey on it instead of the sprinkles. Bum bum bum.</strong>" The sweet treat was absolutely delicious. After his first one, Barry ordered three more. Chomping down on the soft, warm texture while exiting the bakery. He felt energized! Excited at the new experience, which in turn lead the man to make more changes in his normal routine. Maybe today he would go for a walk in town, instead of just heading back home.<br><br>Barry pulled the heavy dark hiker's jacket more tightly around his shoulders. One hand working at the zipper, while his other clenched the two remaining Bear Claws. Biting through both at the same time, and smearing his mouth with the sweet honey. He rounded the corner and spotted Granny's Diner just at the end of the block. For an early morning there was quite the crowd scarfing down some of those delicious pancakes! "<strong>MMMM... Pancakes sound good. Not as good as you though little thing,</strong>" he mused childishly to the Bear Claws. 'Then again...' Barry thought, 'I better find out which is better'.<br><br>He picked up the pace a little, hearing the sound of a car backfire echoing from up ahead, followed by the surprised cry of a woman's voice. Barry stopped in his tracks, took another bite of the BC's, and looked for the source of distress.<br><br>"<strong>Well hey there little cub, you alright,</strong>" Barry's voice was filled with a natural sympathy and kind, passive tone. Which for people he met for the first time was a bit startling given the man's enormous size and stature. He had watched Jasmine fall outside the diner, reaching it his honey and crumbs covered hand to help her back on her feet.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Clio</strong> on <strong>15-04-2016, 03:37:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://ilarge.lisimg.com/image/6457318/1118full-emilie-de-ravin.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Belle French<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Librarian<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Chas, Mentioning Soren<br><br><hr><br>The newcomer was just Chas' type. Pretty, female and...well...new? Honestly, he wasn't that picky, although he did like the more attractive women in town. She didn't know why he was so focused on herself, honestly. She wasn't falsely modest enough to think she was overly plain or anything, but Storybrooke was full of beautiful women. There was the gorgeous and exotic Jasmine, the darkly beautiful Ruby, the enchanting brunette Megan, the buxom blonde Charlotte, and so many others. In a line-up next to the rest, Belle didn't stand out all that much...at least she didn't she did. She supposed the only reason that he wanted her so badly was because she was the only woman who turned him down. She had no desire to be another notch on his bedpost...or any other man's for that matter. If she had to wait a bit longer than most, then she would. It wasn't like she was spinster age yet. She was still a young woman, she had plenty to occupy her time. Between the library, her family's business and her books, she didn't need some physical fling complicating things. No, if she was going to have a romance, it was going to be about more than sex.<br><br>She wouldn't deny that Chas was physically attractive, although she'd never let him know that she thought so. He knew that he was pleasing to the eye, and if he thought for a moment that she agreed with the other women in town, he'd think that was an acceptance of his endless invitations. No, it was best to let him think she didn't notice him at all. After all, his personality was enough to dull any physical attraction anyway. There was no mystery there. Nothing to peak her interest or curiosity. Now Soren...well, he was another matter entirely. He was a mystery she wanted to solve. <br><br>Unfortunately, when Granny brought her tea, Chas swiveled in his booth to see her. Wincing as she prepared for the onslaught, he predictably sauntered over to her table just as she was beginning her croissant. She couldn't get up and leave now, as she had no excuse. She was just beginning her breakfast. Sighing in annoyance, she refused to make eye contact, but that didn't hinder Chas. Instead, he grabbed her book, which earned a frustrated growl from Belle and she reached out for the book to no avail. She hadn't looked at the page number quickly enough, and now she'd have to find her spot again. Pressing her red lips together as her blue eyes flashed at him, she sat up straighter and rolled her eyes at his question.<br><br>"I don't suppose you'd understand, would you? However, if you'd like to stop by the library sometime, the children's section has some marvelous Dr. Seuss titles that might be more your speed."<br><br>She gave a sarcastic smile before snatching her book back and trying desperately to try and find her spot.<br><br>"Now I need to find the page I was on before I was so rudely interrupted..."<br><br>When she did, she made a note of the page number just in case, and then her gaze surreptitiously flittered up to look at Soren once again. Her mind was already on a way to investigate him and why he was so different from the rest of the townfolk. She didn't want to intrude, but something about him drew her. She, of course, didn't know that she'd been staring, but quickly looked back down at her book...not wanting Chas to notice her interest. The last thing she needed was him having any reason to assume things that weren't true. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>PrestaDGTation</strong> on <strong>15-04-2016, 04:55:31</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://images1.mtv.com/uri/mgid:file:docroot:cmt.com:/sitewide/assets/img/artists/ketchum_hal/halketchum01-430x250.jpg?width=361&amp;height=210&amp;enlarge=true&amp;matte=true&amp;matteColor=black&amp;quality=0.85)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Floyd Angolna<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Minion of the <em>Fabulous</em> Mairgold L. Viseli<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Open, Mentioning Emma, Belle, Barry, Jasmine, Glenn and Chas<br><strong>Other Notes:</strong>&nbsp; Using Hal Ketchum as a face for these NPC minions.&nbsp; If you like his look, lemme know, and his face claim is yours.&nbsp; But I'm keeping the music album!<br><br><hr><br>&nbsp; To be honest, Floyd didn't really like the breakfast here.&nbsp; The pancakes were too spongy.&nbsp; The butter was cheap.&nbsp; The bacon was domestic and cut from a subpar piece of a subpar hog.&nbsp; The syrup was one of those horrible grocery store brands that had somehow replaced actual, authentic maple syrup.&nbsp; The eggs were obviously white shell instead of brown, and were bland enough that it took several shakes of more than one seasoning to make them palatable.&nbsp; Did no one know how to scramble an egg properly in this day and age?&nbsp; And then there was the coffee.&nbsp; Rank, bitter, detestable, made from industrial ground beans grown on some franken-farm super structure.<br><br>&nbsp; But Granny did make it strong.&nbsp; It was one of three things about this place that Floyd actually liked.&nbsp; The second being the croissants.&nbsp; Much as he and his brother Jerry would never admit it, especially to Miss Viseli, these treats were flaky in just the right way.&nbsp; Served with a few cut strawberries and a small bowl of powdered sugar, it wasn't half bad.&nbsp; It was still nothing like the meals they used to enjoy, in the gigantic palaces and sprawling estates that they'd toured and lived in all over the world.&nbsp; It wasn't enough for cuisine to be exotic, it had to be exceptional.&nbsp; And Miss Viseli had only employed the very best chefs in every instance, to prepare her nightly feasts, morning delights, and afternoon smorgasbords.&nbsp; Floyd and Jerry had picked up many things from those days, but it was the taste that lingered.&nbsp; Exquisite, exceptional, and excessive.&nbsp; Blissful hedonism, overflowing..<br><br>&nbsp; Floyd looked down at his croissant again, and made a face.&nbsp; They were flaky.&nbsp; He was reduced to eating peasant food, in minuscule portions, and <em>liking</em> it.&nbsp; Because they were flaky.<br><br>&nbsp; He took another sip of the coffee, the bitterness washing away his disgust.<br><br>&nbsp; There was only one other thing he liked about this diner.&nbsp; Like it or not, it was a beating vein throughout the rest of the town.&nbsp; Storybrooke may be a small, secluded little hamlet, where they lived not in a palace, nor in a mansion, but in what could scarcely be described as a large house.&nbsp; But it was a fascinating place, full of all kinds of curious people and going's on.&nbsp; Miss Viseli made it her business to know everything of any interest that happened here.&nbsp; Not only for her own amusement, or for the hunger all three of them shared for their bygone glory days.&nbsp; But because there was only one chance to sink your teeth into an opportunity, and Miss Viseli was <em>starving</em> to sink her teeth into all of them.&nbsp; In that regard, Floyd was here on duty, watching and listening, keeping his thumb on the pulse of the city.&nbsp; His smart phone was neatly laid to the side as he rolled a strawberry in sugar.&nbsp; Ugh.&nbsp; Granulated sugar, and itty-bitty fruit.&nbsp; This place couldn't even get the strawberries right.<br><br>&nbsp; Floyd was watching the self-appointed gift-to-all-women hit on the librarian.&nbsp; The oaf never could take a hint.&nbsp; But Miss Viseli appreciated the eye-candy, and there was something to be said for his audacity.&nbsp; And some less kind things to be said for the shrew he was courting.&nbsp; The neighborhood bum came bum-bum-buming into the shop to get some of that filthy artificial honey on a soggy bear claw, before running outside to tend to the village fortune-teller.&nbsp; Who somehow hadn't predicted that the curb ended in a 5 inch rise right at the side-walk.&nbsp; Floyd let himself smirk at that, lifting his phone and snapping a quick picture with practiced grace and discretion.&nbsp; Miss Viseli would love it.<br><br>&nbsp; Glenn was also here.&nbsp; Miss Viseli tended to favor the man, noting how eager he was to become a proper business man in his own right.&nbsp; Floyd sipped his coffee and gave him a glance, nodding if he returned it.&nbsp; They knew each other, the Viseli Minions and the handyman.&nbsp; They'd spoken about potential deals, start-up capital, that manner of thing.&nbsp; Nothing had occurred as of yet, but Floyd had watched him long enough to know his routine.&nbsp; Pity that he ordered the waffles, though.&nbsp; The flour was almost certainly all-purpose.<br><br>&nbsp; However, what really grabbed his eye was the new girl.&nbsp; He'd never seen her before.&nbsp; No one had.&nbsp; And this wasn't the kind of place that got visitors.&nbsp; It was someone new, and that meant something new was happening.&nbsp; He lifted his phone and, sending a text message with an image of her back to the house, submitted a new opportunity to his hungry mistress.<br><br>&nbsp; <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Eyes on the new girl.&nbsp; What do you think?"</span> read his text.&nbsp; He placed the phone on the table and took another grudging bite of his croissant, staring back at the phone as it rumbled on the counter.<br><br>&nbsp; <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"Finally!&nbsp; I was wondering when Granny's would have something less stale to offer."</span> came the reply.&nbsp; Miss Marigold Lee Viseli.&nbsp; Even over the phone, he could hear her theatrical voice, the bubbling delight in her tone and the slit-eyed candor of her expression.&nbsp; It made him smile, truly smile for the first time that morning.&nbsp; <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">"I want you to keep an extra close watch on this one.&nbsp; She may be more than just a pretty new face."</span><br><br>&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VonDoom</strong> on <strong>15-04-2016, 11:09:28</strong>
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				<strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Mr. Gold<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> You really ought to know by now, <em>dearie</em>.<br><strong>Time:&nbsp;</strong> A tick-tock tick-tock past midnight?<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Storybrooke Streets<br><strong>Tagging:&nbsp;???</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://cimg.tvgcdn.net/i/r/2016/03/06/baca4766-5ef3-4c81-9ed3-015446d9df13/resize/900x600/d0a9d9b7c964b8cee328b565e74ee907/160306-news-once-upon-a-time-robert-carlyle.jpg)</div> The arrival of a newcomer in her car, along with a certain very special boy, was not only received by a hapless well-meaning psychologist walking his dog. Unseen, in the shadows stood another, his form cloaked in a dark coat, hands idly resting against a walking cane as he beheld the scene with an intense expression on his face. A little too intense, in fact, almost as if he attributed great purpose, great significance to the innocent scene that played out before his dark-brown eyes.<br><br>Once the blonde visitor and her child had moved finally onward, a very slight smirk appeared on his thin lips. The mysterious figure, a man, felt both wistful and almost giddy at the same time -- for a moment something rose in the back of his throat, the urge to put a noise to that feeling and declare it for the world, but he suppressed it. He was a more dignified man these days.<br><br>Calmly, he stepped away from his secure spot and walked back into the street, his cane merrily tapping against the ground despite his again somber expression. As he passed the skittish Dr. Hopper, he gave him a dark look -- the psychologist smiled nervously and quickly stepped aside to make room, pulling his dog with him. <br><br>"Mr. Gold," he offered a greeting, showing the man a smile that he didn't feel -- and that quickly froze as the man in question offered him nothing in return. Little love was lost between these two, for Mr. Gold could hardly stand the meddlesome therapist beyond the veneer of professional conduct. The reasons for this were manifold, but still one fact remained: Mr. Gold owned this town. Like oh so many, the ginger-haired gentleman owed him -- rent, among other things.<br><br>With Hopper out of sight, Gold stepped onwards -- haltingly, relying on his cane to help him with his obvious limp -- and allowed himself another smile. He looked upwards, towards the ancient clock tower. He waited.<br><br>His smile grew wider when, for the first time in so long, it moved forward.<br><br><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Mr. Gold<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Owning most of Storybrooke.<br><strong>Time:&nbsp;</strong> Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Outside Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:&nbsp;Jasmine Misra, Barry Louis</strong><br><br>If one could see inside the mystery that was Mr. Gold, they might see a pleased, wide grin on his lips rather than the dour expression he showed the world. That they could not, however, was a blessing: dark things lurked inside his head, secrets and terrible truths that most were better off not knowing.<br><br>At times, it was difficult for the man to keep it from spilling out. To maintain his facade, even from the one who also knew what he knew. Blessed ignorance served him better in public and to be underestimated was an advantage that few others could see as keenly as he.<br><br>The pawnshop owner was not a tall man, nor a strong one. If he impressed, it was with his presence, and that he had in spades. He came this morning dressed in his usual manner: a tailor-made black suit with an equally black button-down shirt and a tie of dark purple coloring. He was never really seen in anything but <em>dark</em> colors. His mauve hair was middle length, reaching just to his shoulders at the back and a bit unruly.<br><br>He did not frequent Granny's Diner very often. Usually only when he felt like a change of pace, when he met someone there for business, or when the rent was due. Today his steps took him into its direction despite none of these being the case. Why, then, did he go there? Curiosity - his leg might be lame, but his ears were keen, and he had heard where their visitor had been directed last night. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be there this morning.<br><br>Of course he had no intention of actually intruding on her morning, but it ought to prove interesting what her presence had brought. Surely most of the people of Storybrooke would feel that something was off, that something had changed, even if they had no way of knowing exactly what was going on. Not yet.<br><br>Thus he crossed the road towards the diner when he saw one of his closer acquaintances, a lovely woman by the rather telling name of Jasmine, stumble to a rather bad fall almost in front of him. A frown appeared on his face. Pursing his lips he slowly moved closer, silently cursing his bad leg as another man reached her first. His frown grew deeper as he realized who it was: another name, a name that we shall not mention here, came to him immediately, before a moment later he quickly identified the large fellow as Barry Louis. One of the, in his opinion, more useless residents of Storybrooke. Too well-meaning and slovenly to even be of use as a thug in spite of his large frame.<br><br>"Ms. Misra," he called out, awkwardly moving closer with a look of concern on his face. Whilst he didn't have more than a glance to spare for the much larger Barry in face of her injury, he was certainly content to let the much taller man help her up. Considering his own particular infirmity, it was a much less trying process than if he were to do the same.<br><br><em>He could scarcely wait for the moment it would no longer be a problem … </em><br><br>Once he had finally reached the both of them, he pulled a white silken handkerchief from his pocket and gave her a brief, questioning look to see if she did not object, before moving to clean her cut. "Are you alright, dearie? You look shaken."<br><br>He was not one for displays of empathy, usually, so this bit of concern at her injury was perhaps a bit unusual to some. After all, who would begin to guess that Mr. Gold regularly visited the fortune teller for more than just the rent? Indeed, he seemed quite keen to know what the fates had in store for him and regularly had her peer ahead with her cards. Whether this was some gesture of compassion for the struggling young woman or genuine belief in clairvoyance was a subject for debate amongst those who knew of it, but he certainly always seemed quite serious when it came to these things.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aiden</strong> on <strong>15-04-2016, 22:11:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/1c/Sheriff.jpg)</div>Name: Lothar Wrynn<br>Occupation: Sheriff<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner<br>Tagging: The group outside in passing (Jasmin, Bear, Gold), Soren (Beast), Ruby<br>Notes: Yes he smashed Emma's rear light. <br><hr><hr><br>Like every other day, Lothar was up and ready for another day. Same time, same parking spot, same yellow car? Lothar almost smashed into the back of the vehicle that was currently in his spot. The spot didn't have his name on it but it was his, at least in the morning it was. Someone had beat him to it?! The sheriff parked across the street, his mood taking a sudden turn as he walked across the pavement to Granny's. <br><br>Soren's beat up truck was a bigger eyesore but at least the recluse had enough sense not to take his space. As Lothar passed the yellow car, he drew his baton and smashed the rear headlight with a flick of his wrist before continuing onto the sidewalk. The commotion nearby had him looking over at bloody girl, oaf and cripple. "Move it along." He warned them as he entered the diner in dire need of his daily dose of coffee and attitude (from Ruby). <br><br>"Soren, I hope that beast of yours is up to code." He addressed the man after having ticketed him for a smog check previously. Without waiting for a reply he moved on to the counter. "Ruby, wake up and get your favorite customer a cup of coffee, chop chop." <br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Amelita</strong> on <strong>15-04-2016, 23:39:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/8jdKxEz.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Megan Holden<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Bratsitter (runs a daycare center)<br><strong>Time:</strong> Morning - 1st day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong> Outside Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Jasmine, Mr. Gold, Barry | Mentioning: Lothar, Ruby, Chas<br><hr><hr><br>Gods... Whoever left the house willingly this early if they had even a grain of coffee in their house? <br><br>Megan's morning started out gloriously. She took her usual half hour snooze, stretched in bed for about ten minutes after that and then got dressed. Then she walked into the kitchen and remembered she'd told people she was taking the day off today. What a wonderful thing, a whole day without snot suckers! As if that weren't enough to make any day a good one, she found a piece of cake in her fridge she'd forgotten about. It was amazing. It was everything she hoped for. And then it all went down the drain. No coffee. <br><br>Her house wasn't far away from Granny's so she ventured outside and immediately shivered at the horrible moist and cool air of pre-noon. If something else contributed to the feeling of discomfort or unease, she didn't recognize it. Maybe she should have worn pants. Or a sweater... Ah well. <br><br>Strolling along the sidewalk to her unfortunately necessary destination, she watched the Sheriff's car roll on by. Then as she rounded the corner and the diner came into view, she couldn't help but laugh to herself. Was that Jasmine falling to the ground? Then JBB (Jolly Big Barry) and Mr. Gold competed to rescue her, and not only that, but the Sheriff smashing a light of some horrid looking car. Well, they should have seen <em>that</em> one coming. Their own fault for driving around in something yellow, after all. <br><br>Grinning as these thoughts entertained her, Megan perched her butt on the yellow Beetle, crossed her ankles and pressed her palms together between her thighs. No, not that close to her crotch you dirty mind. <br><br>"Awww that's adorable. You okay there Minnie, you look a little crowded with testosterone." Her voice held all the taunt the comment implied, although it admittedly lost a little power when she glanced into the diner and saw the crowd of people in there. Were everyone and their momma out of coffee this morning or did people in general actually go there <em>willingly </em>before lunch time? She spotted Chas in there, knew Ruby had to be in there somewhere but that was her job after all... But damn. Really?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>GnothiSeauton</strong> on <strong>16-04-2016, 00:00:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/dsETKzc.jpg?1)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Chas Fortier<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Animal Control<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Granny's Diner - Belle's Table (Interior) ---&gt;&nbsp; Parking Lot (Exterior)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Belle.&nbsp; Meg.&nbsp; Lothar (Mentioned).<br><br><hr><br>A shade of a smile came across Chas's face as he heard her words.&nbsp; So caught up in the scathing remarks, Chas paid no attention to the look she gave someone else.&nbsp; For in that moment, he dwelt on the comment that cut deep.<br><br>He had been raised to believe he was the best at everything, and Chas believed it.&nbsp; His Poppa always said he was the best, always pushed him to be the best that he could do.&nbsp; Failure, coming in second, was never an option.&nbsp; He practiced with his rifle until he was a damn good shot.&nbsp; He learned how to play music on his guitar until the shrill, disjointed sounds became sweet, beautiful melodies to his ears.&nbsp; No one could swing an axe like Chas.&nbsp; No one could throw down&nbsp; like Chas.&nbsp; No one, in his opinion, could compare to him.<br><br>But education...&nbsp; Formal schooling...&nbsp; That was something he never learned growing up.&nbsp; School and books were for sissies and weak folk, his father always said.&nbsp; A real man made something out of himself with his hands and heart, not his mind.&nbsp; Chas never learned his letters.&nbsp; The only education he got growing up was how to be a man, and to be the best.&nbsp; School, books, all of that were beneath real men, his Daddy always said.<br><br>It was something he tried to keep to himself.&nbsp; An act he kept up in public.&nbsp; He bought a newspaper every day, and could make out what was happening and going on from the images.&nbsp; He read in his own way, through images, while to others, it might have seemed like he was simply reading the letters and type of the newspaper.&nbsp; At work, he always passed off his paperwork and filings to the little pipsqueak Floue who idolized him down at the Animal Control office.&nbsp; He kept a few books around the house, show to further keep the lie he kept.<br><br>Belle's remark, that cutting reminder that, when it came to something simple, something a child could do, he couldn't do it, stung worse than any criticism he had heard.<br><br>“Ha, ha, ha...” He dryly sounded.&nbsp; “What is with you and books?&nbsp; How do you ever think you're going to find a man when you always have your nose buried in a book?”<br><br>Slowly he began to move from the seat, rising to his feet.&nbsp; “I've got some steaks in the fridge over at my place.” Chas began.&nbsp; “Why don't you think about coming over sometime.&nbsp; You can cook dinner and tell me all about those books of yours.”<br><br>The offer hung in the air as he began to march his way out of the diner.&nbsp; She wouldn't accept, of course.&nbsp; Belle never did.&nbsp; One of the few women to continually reject and deny him.&nbsp; It wouldn't have felt right to not make such an offer though, holding out to a hope that one day she'd see the truth of the matter.&nbsp; One day, he told himself.&nbsp; One day.<br><br>Chas gave a polite nod of acknowledgment to the law-keeper, before moving out through the gathering crowd of the diner.&nbsp; Soon he stepped outside, into the inviting fresh air.&nbsp; It felt good to get out of there.&nbsp; Felt good to get back to the outdoors, and start the day off on what he hoped to be a more positive note.<br><br>And the sexy little thing perched upon the yellow beetle was exactly what the doctor prescribed.&nbsp; If anyone could brighten his day, if there was anyone, or anything, in the world that could make the troubles, the doubts, disappear from his mind, it was Meg.<br><br>He began to make his way over to the small little gathering of people outside, his eyes locked in upon her.&nbsp; Having gone around the car, Chas came up beside her, an arm thick with muscles and strength reaching out and pulling her into him him.&nbsp; “Hey good-lookin'.”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Bibliophilia</strong> on <strong>17-04-2016, 00:09:00</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://41.media.tumblr.com/23072486783f7573788656093f07461f/tumblr_nl79zdaiSw1rexg1uo1_500.jpg)</div>Name: Soren Magnus<br>Occupation: Carpenter<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner<br>Tagging: Lothar |Open<br><hr><hr><br>He glared after the sheriff as the man came in, fighting the urge to stand and follow the puffed-up mall cop to see just how important he though he was when his head was on backwards.&nbsp; They both knew that citation had been utter nonsense, since his truck had been lovingly maintained under the hood, even if it looked a mess on the outside.<br><br>Putting the man out of his mind, Soren listened as he studied the menu and breathed deep of the scents that mingled pleasingly in the diner, letting the familiar bustle of the morning rush soothe his agitated nerves.&nbsp; Coming to town always set him on edge, though it was pretty quiet and, some might say, sleepy compared to most places.&nbsp; There were too many smells and few of them pleasant.&nbsp; The chemicals in the perfumes, colognes, gums, hairsprays, body washes and cosmetics all seemed to grate at his senses, and the scent of car exhaust was sometimes strong enough to make him sneeze.&nbsp; In the woods, the only smells were his own and those of nature, and his disdain for chemical-laden products kept his home a pleasing sanctuary from the eye-watering reek.&nbsp; Now, thankfully, the less-pleasant scents were drown out by the mouth-watering aromas of cooking food.<br><br>Well, they had been.&nbsp; He twitched and squinted as a particularly strong odor struck him through the tantalizing miasma, searing his nostrils and making him cough softly.&nbsp; A glance told him what he already guessed, and he glowered slightly at the back of Chas's head.&nbsp; The sickly aroma of his cologne, aftershave, hair products and whatever else he used to primp in the morning was far stronger than anyone else Soren had met.&nbsp; He was certain the self-indulgent man spent so much time in front of the mirror every morning that his reflection was burned into the glass.&nbsp; Soren shifted slightly, lifting his menu to hide his face once more, only to have it snatched out of his hands by his server.&nbsp; He barely suppressed the growl that tried to rise in the back of his throat, knowing his annoyance wasn't really directed at the woman waiting to take his order, and, of course, that growling at people in public would only further alienate him from the rest of the town.<br><br>"Black coffee, six slices of bacon, four sausage links, five eggs over medium, four slices of whole wheat toast and a short stack of buttermilk pancakes with extra butter."&nbsp; His voice was rolling thunder muffled beneath a silky layer of dark clouds, carrying through the room despite his habit of speaking quietly in an attempt to avoid attention.&nbsp; He watched the waitress leave with his menu, unaware of the dismayed expression that came over his face at the realization that he now had nothing to pretend to focus on and deflect idle conversation.&nbsp; His eyes shifted back to Chas as the man moved to a booth, the thunderclouds in his voice seeming to gather in his eyes as he watched the pompous jackass intrude upon Belle.&nbsp; He lowered his gaze to his hands, folded awkwardly on the table now that they had nothing to hold onto, and he frowned as he noticed the dirt beneath his fingernails and in the creases of his knuckles.&nbsp; Typically, he didn't care about such things, but for some reason now he felt embarrassed and hurriedly grabbed the glass of ice water to cram a handful of napkins in.&nbsp; Water sloshed over the lip of the glass and spattered across the table, but he seemed not to notice as he tried to surreptitiously scrub the soil off his hands with the soggy wad of paper.<br><br>As he did, he listened to the conversation between Belle and Chas, a slight grin curling the corner of his severe mouth as the arrogant pest received his comeuppance, too focused on the mess he was making of the table and his napkins to glance over at the pair.&nbsp; That was probably for the best, anyhow, since he typically reacted to the sight of Belle with utterly foolish behavior...like sitting at his table and scrubbing his hands with a disintegrating clump of napkins instead of going to the bathroom.&nbsp; Seeing her talking to Chas, even to shoot him down, would probably lead to something especially silly, possibly even violent.&nbsp; A rumble rose in his chest as the napkins fell apart in his hand and he reached to snatch another fistful from the metal holder.&nbsp; His yank on the napkins resulted in the container rattling noisily across his table and tipping off the edge to clang loudly on the floor.&nbsp; He stared at down at it with one wet napkin-adorned hand reaching out just short of plucking it back from the brink and the other hand raised over his head with a bouquet of dry napkins blossoming from his large fist.<br><br>He looked up quickly and around at the other patrons, feeling a flush trying to rise to his cheeks.&nbsp; Rather than succumb to his chagrin, he growled loudly, no longer caring if they though him little more than an animal and avoided him out of fear, it was better than becoming a laughingstock.&nbsp; He leaned to grab the napkin-holder off the floor and sat back up, glaring at his table as he used the dry napkins to wipe up the water and mess he'd made.&nbsp; He refused to look up, convinced that everyone was smirking and snickering at the big, clumsy oaf; the mannerless wildman; the bumbling fool.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Flower</strong> on <strong>17-04-2016, 05:32:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://36.media.tumblr.com/788ca0ab87826443eb28acae5797dde3/tumblr_o1pz1sK49u1tyhl08o6_250.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mildred Voigt <br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Judge<br><strong>Location | Time:</strong> Outside Granny's Restaurant | Morning<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Work Clothes (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/28/1a/fa/281afa3e19848a514b75f04372b99954.jpg) and Family Heirloom (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/9c/46/8c/9c468cb06f8ae4070e6312efe8f526f0.jpg)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<hr><br><em>Nothing lasts. <br>To wish otherwise is a pointless endeavor. <br></em><br>It had been little more than two months. Already, the pile of garbage she purchased from a supposedly reputable merchant failed her. Sometime, in the guise of nightfall, her obsidian, two-door refrigerator put itself out of its misery in a rather dramatic fashion. She learned of its untimely demise and betrayal when the heady scent of thick, black smoke and spoiled food wafted underneath her sensitive nose, rousing her earlier than planned from fitful rest. <br><br>Due to a loss of her perishable goods, Mildred was forced to speed through her exuberant routine, leaving her in an even sourer mood than usual. Her glacial blue eyes lowered to the clock within her corral red Dodge Viper GTS. A displeased noise escaped her mouth before her upper lip curled upward with obvious disgust. All manner of barbaric swine were assembled outside of the subpar restaurant. Her displeasure only deepened when her gaze peered past those who loitered outside Granny’s doors to take note of those positioned near the front windows. <br><br>Fingertips drummed an impatient tune against her knee as Mildred contemplated if she truly wished to venture into the discord of the establishment or appease her appetite with something marauded from the lunchroom in the courthouse. Her rising hunger waned slightly at the mere thought of putting any food found within those cabinets upon her tongue. Despite the stinging verbal lashes she administered daily upon the cleaning staff, their standard for cleanliness did not meet her standards. <br><br>Disorderly as she might be, Mildred trusted Granny to be…<br><br>Her rush of judgments ceased abruptly when she noticed a bumbling imbecile fall onto her empty head. Well, not exactly but it was close enough. She merely arched a thin eyebrow when all manner of men and beasts rushed to the woman’s aid. <br><br>The engine ceased its gentle purr as one stocking covered leg extended out from the cool interior of her car into the gentle warmth of the sunlight. A soft beeping sound, the alarm being triggered, signaled after she closed the door. It was an old habit and cautiousness she could never be rid of even though no one would dare lay a finger upon her prized baby. Still, even as she stood there, stomach growling with increasing loudness. She could not command her feet to step in the direction of that shack. Whoever crafted that piece of shit and had the audacity to sell it to her would not remember peace after they had felt her fury. <br><br>“You there.” Her commanding voice was no higher than a whisper but nevertheless it still reached her target. “Come here.” Millie lifted her finger, making a beckoning motion with her hand. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>El Maligno</strong> on <strong>19-04-2016, 02:55:23</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://speakerdata.s3.amazonaws.com/photo/image/842205/03_Ian-Somerhalder-Headshot.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Corvin Diaval<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Bailiff <br><strong>Location/Time:</strong>Granny's Resturant/Morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mildred Voigt <br><hr><br>Corvin glanced at the object of his focus as he attempted to burn it's image into his mind. Lightly sketched with his graphite pencil gently brushing the dark grey on his paper with the pad of his thumb. The thin line of graphite smoothed out into a much broader streak of dark grey. Slowly his picture was coming together as the wind rustled the leaves on the tree he was drawing. Every morning he drew this tree, and this morning was no different. Shifting his grip on his pencil he started to fill in the finer details in the tree. He wanted to tree to come to life on his paper, the sole focus in this moment was now the different patterns and the texture of the bark on the tree. Slowly it all came together but just as he was beginning to really lose himself in his art the alarm on his phone rang. With a small sigh he set his pencil down, tapping his alarm off. It was time to start getting ready, his time for relaxation was over unless he didn't want to eat breakfast. Or if he wanted to be late for work where he would no doubt have his ass chewed out by Judge Viogt.<br><br>And that was not a way he wanted to spend his morning. He got up and began to get ready for his day at work. Making sure to wash his hands to get all the graphite off his hands he made sure not to leave any marks if any on his face or arms. His morning routine was simple and short since he laid out his normal clothes the night before and was going to pick up some food on his way to work. Pulling on his black jeans and shirt he grabbed his leather jacket on his way out. Pulling his keys out he looked for his black 1967 Chevy Impala. Despite his fondness for black Corvin always wondered why such a dark color was his favorite one despite all the beautiful and bright colors in the world. Still as his Impala roared to life he drove off rolling his windows down and turning off his radio he thought about what he would like today. However his answer came before him in the form a a very familiar car. <br><br>It was the Judge's. Without question he pulled into the parking lot and got out knowing right off that the Judge would no doubt need something. He was used to this routine. Covrin was her unofficial right hand man and he made sure the Judge got what she needed and followed her orders. It was a strange relationship as he normally didn't appreciate someone telling him how to do his job but for some reason he didn't mind if Judge Viogt did. Getting out of his car before he could close the door already he heard her soft command. <br><br>A small curl of his mouth showed his slight amusement. <br><br><em>Guess I punch in early... <br></em> <br><br>"Yes, ma'am." &nbsp;Corvin replied as he walked towards her. "How can I help you today Judge Voigt?"<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kokaine</strong> on <strong>19-04-2016, 05:58:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/storywikmaine/images/3/3e/Ruby_110.png/revision/latest?cb=20121127174711)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Ruby Lucas<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> THE Waitress<br><strong>Time:</strong> Morning - 1st day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong> Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Cook - NPC, Granny - NPC, Emma (mentioned), Soren (noticing), Lothar | Open<br><hr><strong>"Joe! Better catch that steak. You're gonna over cook it!"</strong> <br><br>Ruby breezed through the kitchen, brushing past the old cook that had been working there for... well, as long as she could remember. Breathing in the various aroma's of Granny's kitchen and feeling a sense of familiarity that was at once comforting and stifling, she paused just long enough to get her bearings before stepping through the swinging door and out behind the counter. <br><br>Right away she was treated to several greetings from loyal customers, some more enthusiastic than others. There was a growl for coffee and a mutter for 'the usual' that the young woman took in stride, collecting the information without even reaching for her notepad because who didn't know that Sarah liked her eggs runnier than little Billy's nose and Michael preferred his steak nearly bloody? <br><br>"'Bout time. Was starting to think you'd gotten lost back there, girl."<br><br>Ruby rolled her eyes at her grandmother's greeting. <strong>"I went to check on a few things, jeez."</strong><br><br>"Hmph. Its a wonder you didn't catch pneumonia. Its generally expected for one to wear <em>clothes</em> to work ya know."<br><br>She heaved a sigh and turned her narrowed green hues toward the door as it swung open for what seemed the twentieth time in the past few minutes, pointedly ignoring the reference to the cute white blouse and red shorts she was wearing as she certainly saw no problem with the outfit. Idly she wondered if she wasn't imagining that Granny's seemed a little busier than usual. Then again, there was a new woman in town. After a lifetime of seeing only the same ol' faces, the blonde who'd driven into town last night was big news to her so it figured she must have been big news to the rest of the town as well. If Granny hadn't already given her strict orders not to talk the woman's ear off she might have gone over and done just that just to hear about the things she must have done and seen outside of this dreary little town. Ah well. She had company anyhow and wasn't sitting at one of her tables anyhow. <br><br>"Feel like doin' a little work today?"<br><br>The pointed question prodded her into motion, dragging her back from her wandering thoughts. Grumbling under her breath Ruby's pout made itself known while she turned to go about putting in orders and refilling coffee. While her back was turned, the door opened yet again and with the first two steps her shoulders tensed. Ugh.<br><br>The moment he opened his mouth his voice scraped across her senses and her lip curled. The sheriff. She heard his warning to Soren and prayed that he'd let Granny deal with him but of course there was no such luck. <br><br><strong><em>"Ruby, wake up and get your favorite customer a cup of coffee, chop chop." </em></strong><br><br><strong>"Or what? You'll arrest me, Sheriff Wrynn?"</strong> She retorted, turning to glance at him as if she hadn't a care in the world and lifting her hands before her as if she might be cuffed. Granny cleared her throat and her mockingly sweet expression started to revert back to a pout until the loud clatter of a napkin holder hitting the floor drew her attention straight to Soren. The big man was as much a mystery to her as he ever had been but she felt her expression soften as she watched him retrieve the fallen dispenser, no matter his growl.<br><br>Catching herself, her attention jumped back to the Sheriff and she genuinely contemplated not moving a muscle but unfortunately what little manners her Granny had managed to get through to her won out--though she told herself it was only to get him out of the diner faster. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Flower</strong> on <strong>19-04-2016, 23:22:15</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://36.media.tumblr.com/788ca0ab87826443eb28acae5797dde3/tumblr_o1pz1sK49u1tyhl08o6_250.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mildred Voigt <br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Judge<br><strong>Location | Time:</strong> Outside Granny's Restaurant | Morning<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Work Clothes (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/28/1a/fa/281afa3e19848a514b75f04372b99954.jpg) and Family Heirloom (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/9c/46/8c/9c468cb06f8ae4070e6312efe8f526f0.jpg)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Corvin Diaval | Open<hr><br><em>Merciful Lord, please grant me the virtue of patience</em>, Mildred prayed to herself as she lifted her fingertips in order to massage tenderly against her already protesting temples. It was a futile effort but nevertheless she sought to prepare herself for a hopefully brief correspondence with the walking embodiment of a migraine. <br><br>In no way, shape, or form had she sought to beckon him, of all surrounding imbeciles and town idiots, to her side. She would much rather deal with Chas’ unfailing lecherous gaze or even Mister Gold’s dependable sense of superiority rather than endure a second longer than necessary in his company. At least, with them, she possessed a modicum of knowledge what they sought from her or what their unspoken intentions might be. <br><br>Unfortunately, the close nature of their work spat upon her desire to be rid of him each and every day without fail. Lips pursed into a faint frown, her gaze shifted from where he ambled across the street to where her true prey, a gluttonous midget, continued to waddle without falter towards Granny’s cheap but crowd-pleasing establishment. Silently, she willed him to choke on those fluffy, mouthwatering pancakes at first bite rather than enjoy a single second of pleasure.&nbsp; <br><br>Lips pursed with unhidden displeasure, Mildred turned her stormy blue hues back to the nuisance forcing himself into her personal space, for the umpteenth time. Corvin Diaval possessed a rare trait; his mere presence never failed to inspire agitation within the usually cool headed woman. Whereas most were met with infuriating indifference, she never failed to conjure some stinging word for him. <br><br><em>How can I help you today, Judge Voigt?</em> As always, his response to her lack of enthusiasm in regards to him was the same: polite, respectful, and ready to lend assistance if she was willing enough to accept it. Mildred rarely did, content to handle matters herself, which made today a rare exception. <br><br>“My <em>supposedly </em>top of the line refrigerator malfunctioned sometime in the middle of the evening,” she explained curtly, not bothering to indulge him with the niceties of proper social protocol. She did not care how day fared so far and neither did she ever intend to pretend otherwise. Before he could offer his unwanted aid with that aggravating matter, she lifted her hand to silence him before he could interrupt her explanation. “Never mind that. It will be fixed before the day’s end. Go to Granny’s and order breakfast to go. French toast, two slices turkey bacon, and one over medium egg will suffice. Orange juice as well. No ice.” 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rel Mayer</strong> on <strong>20-04-2016, 01:22:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.northindiatimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/nandana-sen-hot-7.gif)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Jasmine Misra<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Fortune Teller<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Outside Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Barry, Mr. Gold, Lothar (M), Meg, Chas (M), Belle (M)<br><br><hr><br>One would think a woman who spent the majority of her life (or so she thought) reading cards and anticipating the future would notice the fact that a different car was actually parked in front of Granny's! Her normal hop, skip, and dance to her favorite bollywood song resulted in a rumble. And what was worse was everyone seemed to notice! <br><br>A shadow loomed over her body, as a mountain of a man appeared with sticky hands coated in honey. Her eyes adjusted to the sun, and quickly she noticed it was Barry Louis! The local and chipper hermit that lived int he forest--just a bit further than where she lived. "<strong>Barry! Oh... thanks!</strong>" Jasmine could not hide the blush on her face as she took Barry's hand and attempted to stand up. Feeling the skin on her knee stretch and send a flurry of pain through her spine, but she got over it rather quickly. She began to pat the dirt off of the beige skirt she was wearing, as well as inspect the trickle of blood running down her kneecap. She didn't even realize that Barry had coated her hand in honey crumbs until her skirt lifted from her legs. Stuck to her hand as she she wiggled the appendage to get the fabric off. Her knee no longer hurt. No. Nothing could distract her from the massive injury her pride just took. "<strong>I have to confess that I feel rather foolish now,</strong>" she confessed to her friend. Licking a bit of the honey off of her palm and trailing her slick tongue up to the slender digit.<br><br>It wasn't until she heard a cane and an attractive, but undeniably older man approach her from behind. If she felt foolish before, she felt even more foolish now. "<em>Oh shit... Oh shit... I don't have rent with me,</em>" she mulled over in her mind. Her body tensing as she didn't know what version of Mr. Gold she was going to get. The nice Mr. Gold that gave her a few extra days before rent was do, or the Mr. Gold that was excellent at planting fear inside of her mind. Feeling as if he was always one step ahead of her... and her cards. Why he took an interest to her tarot reading? She never knew. He seemed like a man of wisdom, but he believed in her. She couldn't fault him for that.<br><br>"<strong>Oh! Mr. Gold, I didn't see you there. Why, yes... I'm quite alright,</strong>" she said before looking down at what he was offering. For a moment she hesitated to grab his handkerchief, but then she looked at the concern in his eyes. He was nice Mr. Gold today... it seemed. She nodded her head and offered a sweet smile. "<strong>No need to waste your nice silk on me, Mr. Gold,</strong>" she added. Needing no further debt, even if it was given out of the kindness of his heart. Her hands slipped to her skirt, pulling it to cover her kneecap so he didn't see her bleeding. While Jasmine was not the best fortune teller, she still was rather proud. The young Indian woman hated it when people felt pity toward her. "<strong>I... I do need to mention Mr. Gold that funds business hasn't been going to well this week. Maybe it's because I told Humphrey Dumphrey that he wasn't going to fall off the wall last week (he did), or maybe it was because I told Goldie Locke that hanging out with a band of bears sounds like a great idea!</strong>" she bit her tongue. Knowing that all of her readings were terrible and faulty. She just wasn't on her game lately. She was so terrible, that she didn't even see Lothar smash the tail light of the car! She just waved at him him blindly and continued with her conversation. <br><br>"<strong>So... umm, unfortunately the rent will not be--</strong>" she was suddenly caught off. The sultry vixen of a woman appeared leaning up against a car. She make a comment that would have rubbed her wrong on the normal day, but considering that she was literally drowning in confrontation--Meg was a godsend! "<strong>I'm sure you're prefer to be in my place, wouldn't you, Meg?</strong>" she hissed back the woman. Covering her mouth suddenly, unsure where the snark came from. Maybe she was rubbing off on her...<br><br>And then Chas appeared. A man that always made her feel extremely nervous. Fearing that his flirtations words could spread her way, or worse... his hands! At least he wasn't around Belle, although Jasmine found it very entertaining seeing the times that Belle gave Chas the cold shoulder. Her heart began to beat in her chest nervously, and Jasmine then took a singular step back. Not realizing that she would almost be walking into Barry behind her, because she was too nervous looking at Mr. Gold. Wondering if he noticed the conversation they were having still, or if all the chaos was going to distract him from the obvious lack of money that Jasmine was giving him this month. "<strong><em>All I wanted was some milk...</em></strong>" she whispered to herself, slightly defeated, as she wondered why today was so chaotic already! "<strong><em> ...would have gone really well with a bear claw,</em></strong>" she added with a nod. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Aislinn</strong> on <strong>20-04-2016, 04:52:45</strong>
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				<strong>Name: Emma Swan<br>Occupation: Stranger Danger!<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner - Counter<br>Tagging: Glen – Mentioning : Soren, Belle, Chas, Wally, Krystopher, Jazz, Trey, Lothar, Floyd, Ruby</strong><br>___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br><br><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/90/Emmasw.jpg)</div><br>Pushing her long blond hair to the side a bit, she sighed as her eyes scanned the menu. She could feel a few sets of eyes on her but that wasn’t too concerning. Being a stranger in a small town had a tendency to attract attention. Emma didn’t have much of a chance to dwell on the matter before a gentleman’s voice broke through the air in her direction. Turning her head a bit, her eyes met those of a large smiling man just behind her. Shifting her body in his direction, Emma tilted her head ever so slightly to consider him…and his words.<br><br><strong>“Pancakes or waffles huh? I will take that under advisement but honestly as long as it has bacon on the side, I’m pretty happy. Oh...and hot chocolate with cinnamon. But again…thanks for the tip.”</strong><br><br>Her words were delivered matter-of-factly with no hint of interest or disinterest. It simply was. She was a cautious creature and always had been. Trusting people was something that she had a very hard time doing but a simple conversation didn’t require trust - just manners.<br><br>She was grateful for his comments for a reason other than culinary preference however. It drew her attention to the growing crowd in the diner. She prided herself on observations and there was a lot to observe. Her eyes did a quick scan of the busy room, noting characteristics of several people in the blink of an eye. Of course she knew nothing about them or even their names but that didn’t stop her from committing something about them to memory. There was Mr. Friendly to whom she had already spoken…Bookworm and the Big-mouth (or was it Beauty and the Beast? She couldn’t decide…)…Mr. Bookworm at the counter…Tweedledum and Tweedledee over at a window table…Tee-totaling Party Boy (study in contradiction?)…Texting Twit…Sheriff Shouty Pants…Waitress Sass Master - whose name was apparently Ruby - and a variety of others. Emma would be the first to admit that the names weren’t very creative nor were they intended to offend… but once they wormed their way into her head, there was very little she could do to make them leave. It was a skill she had honed over time in regards to rapid-fire memorization and it had evolved through the years to the point of being as automatic and uncontrollable as yawning.<br><br>That left one…in the back booth. There was an immediate internal recognition. While she didn’t consider herself spiritual at all, Emma did believe in certain things. Neal had once told her that kindred spirits recognized each other and that is how they had found their way to each other. The way he hid behind his menu but his obvious presence in the diner…there was just something about him she could relate to. She craved solitude as well…but there was an ever-present desire to be a part of something other than that solitude. Mr. Friendly seemed to be the pleasant sort but she was drawn to the one Sherrif Shouty Pants had called Soren. <br><br>Strangely enough…-that- name wasn’t sticking in her brain.<br><br><em>Dýrið</em><br><br>What the hell was that? It was like her inner voice…saying the name over and over. Weird. Moving on...<br><br>Shifting her attentions back the Mr. Friendly, she arched her head a bit and decided to engage in a bit of reconnaissance. <br><br><strong>“ Soooo...Storybrooke? Interesting name for a town. I’ve never heard it mentioned before…but then again, I’m not well-traveled. What can you tell me about it?”</strong><br><br>Emma Swan was an excellent multi-tasker. Her eyes focused on the gentleman she was speaking to but her senses were in high-gear, absorbing information from all over the immediate vicinity. <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>BruceTheCat</strong> on <strong>20-04-2016, 07:29:27</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/fd/a4/9d/fda49d9b214e57f086a2aa5513fc3f34.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Barry Louis<br><strong>Occupation:</strong>&nbsp; Town Hermit<br><strong>Time:</strong>&nbsp; Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Outside Granny's Diner<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>&nbsp; Jasmine, Gold, Megan, Lothar, Open<br><br><hr><br>Barry was happy to see that Jasmine was OK. Smiling warmly while opening his large mouth while she thanked him, beaming with pride, trying to find a few words to make conversation when a quick (slightly awkward) silence passed between them. Barry was not stupid, even though he had heard the whispers here and there about people believing that the man was rather dull or simple. The truth was that he just did not really see a lot of the Storybrook folks in his everyday life. The man was just unpracticed with normal conversation. Even now, in the perfect opportunity to have one, Barry just couldn't think of anything to talk about. <strong>"Do you like honey-"</strong> was the first thing that came to his mind. His eye's catching the way she started to lick the remnants of his Bearclaw from her fingers.<br><br>Unfortunately what was quite possibly the best conversation topic ever conceived was squashed by the arrival of another, much more powerful and sociable man that Barry Louis. Mr. Gold, the owner of the local antique shop and easily the most powerful man in town, arrived on scene in short order. Barely even glancing to acknowledge Barry's presence before speaking directly to Jasmine. Barry could admit, at least to himself, that he felt a little hurt by it. The feeling of being ignored, but that sort of thing was normal for Mr. Gold. The old gentlemen walked that thin line of respect and intimidation, falling more so to the latter when it came to people like the "crazy hermit" of Storybrooke. And it was true, Barry was intimidated by him. Mr. Gold was half his size, and probably weighed three times less than Barry. But there was something about Gold, and something inside of Barry. A deep, powerful instinct that warned the large man - "Be afraid of Mr. Gold"<br><br><strong>"Good morning Mr. Gold"</strong> one of the few people he would not call 'little cub'. <strong>"I think she is alright, sir"</strong> he offered in his best 'helpful' tone. Knowing that Gold was a busy man, and hated to waste time. Thankfully, Barry was given something else to focus on by the arrival of Megan! Leaning against the strange Yellow Bug in the parking lot. <strong>"Good morning Megan, how are you doing today?"</strong> Barry smiled wide, even lifting his hand to give her a little wave without moving from where he stood.<br><br>Right about that time the local Sheriff passed by, and broke the tail light of the car parked in his spot. Barry's head followed the Sheriff as he walked inside, muttering under his breath <strong>"Well that wasn't very nice"</strong>.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>El Maligno</strong> on <strong>21-04-2016, 05:10:13</strong>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(http://speakerdata.s3.amazonaws.com/photo/image/842205/03_Ian-Somerhalder-Headshot.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Corvin Diaval<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Bailiff <br><strong>Location/Time:</strong>Granny's Resturant/Morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mildred Voigt, Ruby, Open, Group outside (Barry, Jasmine, Gold, Megan), Group inside (Soren, Belle, Chas, Wally, Krystopher, Jazz, Trey, Lothar, Floyd)<br><hr><br>At the look of frustration on the Judge's face Corvin had to suppress a small smile. If she saw it cross his face then he was in for a much sharper tongue lashing than usual. So it was with great effort that he maintained a straight face. It was a workout of sorts. Needless to say after working for the Judge he mastered a fairly decent poker face. A much needed job necessity if you didn't want to get fired. He knew Judge Viogt did not always appreciate his willingness and offers of help but he would much rather deal with that than to have her feel he was useless. At least this way he was bound to do something right in her eyes. No matter how much he might get on her nerves. Besides it made him smile (inside of course) when she had these small moments where she gathered herself in order to avoid ripping him a new one. <br><br>It was very much like being a masochist/feeding off her annoyance of him. It made work very interesting, he never knew how the Judge would receive him. To be honest other than the small amusements afforded to him, Corvin had no real reason (at least not that he could think of), of why he put up with so much from the Judge when normally with anyone else he would take far less. It puzzled him and he wondered if maybe something was really wrong with him.<br><br><em>Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment....</em>&nbsp; <br><br>His blue-grey eyes twinkled at the thought but he paid strict attention to the Judge's words. He was just about to offer his services or to find someone to fix it when she held a hand up to stop him. No doubt she knew he would attempt to offer his help, her face openly displaying her annoyance at the thought. Still she gave him her order and as he gave her a small bow of his head he turned straightening his black leather jacket as he made his way towards the entrance of Granny's.<br><br>"French toast, two slices turkey bacon, and one over medium egg. Orange juice no ice. Your wish Judge, my command. You look nice today by the way Judge.” Covrin repeated back to her as he walked through a small group spread outside of Granny's. Giving a small smile and a nod of his head in greetings as he passed by. From the look of things it was a busy day here at Granny's. He saw the large&nbsp; Barry talking to a dark haired beauty that was Jasmine. Mr.Gold was nearby and Corvin's eyes traced the man's face, his was a profile Corvin wanted to sketch, before falling on Megan sitting on a yellow beetle. While he would have loved to sit around and talk he had a small errand to run. It wouldn't do to piss the Judge off even more by making her wait too long for her breakfast.<br><br>Opening the door Corvin was surprised to see just how packed Granny's was. It seemed most everyone was here for breakfast including a blonde woman he was sure he had never seen before. Weaving through people he looked around until he just the person he was looking for. Ruby. Making a beeline for her he grabbed his wallet and the incentive he hoped would help speed things along. It would end up being one expensive breakfast but if helped lighten the Judge's mood and saved him an ass chewing then it was well worth it. <br><br>"Ruby!" Corvin called out when he finally reached her. As carefully as possible he leaned towards her ear as he slipped her $20 for a tip, he added "I need two orders of French toast, two slices turkey bacon, and one over medium egg, one order with orange juice no ice, the other apple juice with ice. Please. The twenty is for you if you can please, please make sure the Judge's order is followed exactly as I said. It would be very kind of you to help me avoid Judge Viogt ripping me a new one. She isn't in the best of moods right now." &nbsp;<br><br>Corvin waited for her reply as he gave her his best puppy dog eyed look with his hands in front of him in silent prayer. However the small grin that slowly appeared on his face betrayed his false worry. Ruby was a great waitress, and Corvin knew most everyone knew the Judge was not someone you wanted to vex. It was a headache worth avoiding. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ryven</strong> on <strong>21-04-2016, 11:52:04</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1595/26521827016_3e12fa62d2_z.jpg)</div>Name: Drake Groen<br>Occupation: Art Collector / Impeccable Dresser / General Layabout<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Bed @ The Lair Gallery<br>Tagging: Meg | Open...sort of.<br><br><hr><br>The sun peeked its torturous rays through the tiny slit in Drake's blackout curtains.&nbsp; He was never a morning person.&nbsp; If he had his wish, he wouldn't rise from bed before noon and a proper coffee.&nbsp; He slipped his limbs across the bed slowly beneath the vermilion satin sheets, his feet peeking out from the sides as his legs bent to reach the floor.&nbsp; Upon finding his colorfully decorated legs on more stable ground, he leaned over to rub his face in his hands, a wide yawn crossing his hirsute chin.&nbsp; Drake eventually found the will to push himself up from his comfortable resting place.&nbsp; He took a quick shower in this intermezzo period where he almost mistook shaving gel for conditioner and promptly blamed the unholy hour of morning that it was.<br><br>Unbeknownst to him, many of the other town inhabitants had began to gather at that ghastly place called <em>Granny's</em>.&nbsp; He liked to muse that it was named so because it and the woman who ran it were older than time, and Drake knew something of age himself.&nbsp; He slipped into one of his many designer robes with a pair of black silk pants, a bold pattern adorning his body with a long fringe at the bottom (https://farm2.staticflickr.com/1483/25952983453_7ed8247fc6_z.jpg).<br><br>Drake found his way downstairs from his luxurious second floor apartment into his own gallery.&nbsp; Various art pieces lined the walls and pedestals in the open space.&nbsp; He'd picked them all out himself, saying that each one had a little bit of magic that spoke to him.&nbsp; The sculptures were particularly his favorite.&nbsp; They were mostly concrete pieces depicting people with expressions that conveyed a certain emotional state.&nbsp; He would always look upon them and smile, feeling a bit of warmth born out of the amusement they brought him.<br><br>He arrived at the small bar tucked away in a corner of the gallery, finding his phone on the counter where he left it.&nbsp; Drake flicked the screen to life and opened his texting app where he brought up Meg's previous conversation.&nbsp; She was a cheeky woman, but Drake found something alluring about her unshakable and defiant attitude toward just about everything.<br><br><em>Coffee?&nbsp; Pick me up a paper on your way in.</em><br><br>He slipped his phone back onto the counter and began to make what was, in fact, the best coffee in town no matter what those other heathens were drinking at Granny's.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VonDoom</strong> on <strong>22-04-2016, 17:40:36</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27000000/Mr-Gold-rumpelstiltskin-mr-gold-27041840-1920-2560.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>&nbsp; Mr. Gold<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> The Man with the Evil Plan.<br><strong>Time: </strong> Morning, 1st Day A.E.<br><strong>Location:</strong>&nbsp; Storybrooke Streets<br><strong>Tagging: Barry, Chas, Jasmine, Lothar, Meg, Mildred, Corvin</strong><br><br>There it was. That one moment, that one little snide remark, that was exactly the thing that fed into a deep, deep fire burning at the very core of the man that was Mr. Gold. The man who was once a coward, the man who was the once and present cripple. It never failed to prompt a gut-churning rage, regardless of how many who had fed this fire he in turn had fed to a different sort of flame. Or dismembered. Or turned into a statue. But that was in another life -- now he was a creature of mundane subtleties, of resources and connections.<br><br>For that one brief instance, his surroundings ceased to exist. Jasmine, the fortune-teller, forgotten. Barry the bearish giant, forgotten. Only that thin line of vision between the man with the bad leg and Lothar Wrynn, the town sheriff, was lit with the brightness of the day. Mr. Gold's mouth twitched, his lips formed a thin line as he leveled the full weight of his glare at the impertinent young man. "Do you like your job, Mr. Wrynn?" he asked, his voice loud enough to carry but measured and sharp enough to cut - as always, it came with the distinct note of his Scottish accent. He said nothing else, no further pressed threat, no suggestion that he might pull some levers in the political structure of the city to see him removed from his position -- he trusted that the implication, coming from him, was enough.<br><br>After all, all influence, favors and money owed aside, all that gone, all he really needed to do was talk to their good mayor and say 'pretty please'. Well, only 'please', an arrangement he could never stop congratulating himself on, especially since the dear 'evil queen' still thought he was just as the others: tricksy and clever by nature, yes, but still an ignorant little sheep under the sway of her Dark Curse. <br><br>Oh, she might suspect -- she probably did. After all, everything that transpired now, <em>he</em> had enabled. But she couldn't <em>know</em>, and therein was the fun. All he had to do was give her a real, genuine look of worry and say the word.<br><br>The moment passed, his face relaxed again, as did the fingers of his hand around his cane and he turned his attention back to the Indian woman who was speaking to him. <br><br>His offer of a handkerchief denied, which he pocketed again with a little regret -- after all, a bit of her blood might have come in useful at some point. He offered her a terse smile, then nodded. "Suit yourself, dearie."<br><br>Inclining his head to the side, he listened to her financial plight, which brought a frown to his previously concerned expression. "No need for the details," he cut her off when she started bringing up some of the local residents with more obvious fairy tale-related names -- clearly Regina had run out of ideas at some point. "It's still early. We've a visitor from out of town and I'm sure plenty of people might be tempted to consult your cards to see if she 'might be the one', since we so rarely get them."<br><br>He raised his hand, index and middle-finger tucked, together, and made a dismissive gesture in the air to try and stifle any sure to come protests in advance. "We shall speak of the matter again in the evening, when I come to collect. Matters of finance are best discussed in a private setting, <em>dearie</em>." Another terse smile followed -- in truth, he had considered skipping his rent run this day in favor of attending to other matters, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to interpret the fickle fancies of the fates. Especially on this day.<br><br>The antiquarian turned his attention away from Jasmine for a moment, to look over her shoulder -- a few others were beginning to walk up to them, to make their presence known. Perhaps because of the spectacle or reasons of friendship, but they were of little concern to the suit-clad man. <br><br>One was Megan Holden, the other Chas Fortier. Neither of whom was of <em>major</em> interest to Mr. Gold; the animal control-worker had his occasional uses, but he wasn't entirely certain who Megan <em>was</em> and to try and find out was a risky bit of business he wasn't really too keen to engage in. He saw Corvin Diaval, too, passing by -- he briefly acknowledged the man's gaze by meeting it, but nothing further. They knew each other, of course, from their legal work, but for Mr. Gold it was only a thing he did occasionally. Precious few could afford or were owed enough to acquire his legal services.<br><br>It was getting a wee bit crowded for him. And there were other things to occupy his time with. Such as the judge whom he espied next to her car, a little further off from the assembled group.<br><br>"As it seems you're well attended, I shall call my leave," he declared. Quickly clearing his throat, the man nodded towards the two who had been there from the beginning. The new-comers, he opted to ignore outright. "Ms. Misra. Mr. Louis."<br><br>A moment later his back was towards them and he stepped on, in his usual laborous manner. The clatter of his cane brought him towards the woman who had drawn his attention, Judge Voigt. A perfectionist if he ever knew one, perhaps even more so in this incarnation that was bereft of true power. It amused him and perhaps in the past this had shone through in his behaviour at times.<br><br>"Judge Voigt," he called out. "The nature of my work brings me here as much as any other place in town, but I don't think I've seen you in this particular part before." He didn't follow up with an inquiry, or anything else, just let it stand as a greeting -- perhaps this way, she would feel compelled to explain her presence more so than if he did.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Emjay</strong> on <strong>01-05-2016, 01:47:36</strong>
			</dt>
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				<hr><div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/5a/a7/be/5aa7be4e99d8147ac0b845e4d9be5c85.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Feiyan 'Faye' Zhu<br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Journalist<br><strong>Location/Time:</strong> 1st Day A.E. | Granny's Diner | Morning<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Ruby, Corvin Diaval | Open<br><hr>Just another day at the most boring news office in the world, or it was going to be once she got there. It was only a short walk from her apartment to Granny's Diner, which happened to be on the way to work. Faye went there every morning for her daily dose of caffeine. She could have just made the coffee herself but it wasn't nearly as entertaining mostly because it didn't involve an amusing exchange with Storybrooke's favourite waitress. <br><br>As she stepped into the time honoured establishment she was not surprised to see it bustling with activity, that was just the norm. What did surprise her was the presence of a blonde woman she had never seen before. Call her crazy but she was almost certain that Storybrooke never got visitors...did it? She suddenly felt faint when she began to follow that line of inquiry. Shaking off the strange feeling she walked towards Ruby and the town bailiff, Diaval. Seriously, he was slipping her a 20? Living in this town he should have known that nothing, not even a million dollars, would ever get Ruby to work any faster than she wanted to. The woman ran on her own time. <br><br>Walking up to the two of them she placed her own order, "You know my order. And I'll tip you only after I've gotten my cup of coffee. We can't all be as generous as the bailiff over here."<br><br>The words weren't meant to be a threat, they were just an excuse to poke fun Voigt's loyal dog.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Terris Geolith</strong> on <strong>02-05-2016, 00:46:53</strong>
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				<span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: comic sans ms;" class="bbc_font"><em>Name: Abraham Thomas<br>Occupation: Unemployed/Musician <br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E., Morning<br>Location: Scales and Arpeggios Jazz Club, heading to Granny's Diner <br>Tagging: Open</em><br><br>Orange warmth poured into a small room, that some would call it a closet, two floors and a slightly narrow notch above the completely empty and silent Scales and Arpeggios below. At the very least, this closet had a bed...and a window where Abraham Thomas had seemed to make himself at home. The narrow pane of glass high above was opened a crack, letting in a gentle breeze that brought with it a smell of someone cooking breakfast not too far off. Smelled like Granny's Diner. The food there could wake up anyone. Today was one of those days to which it wasn't needed for Abraham. He was already wide awake, moved over onto his side, in nothing but his boxer, gazing over at the spot next to him with a small smile upon his face. Last night was something else. He could still feel the buzz of the crowd the night before, the late-night encore he and his crew found themselves burning through until some time before morning was considered legal. He didn't even remember getting to bed. <br><br>"Hey there beautiful," said Abraham softly, his eyes gently scanning over the form next to him. There was a small ruffle of sheets before Abraham continued on. "I know, it was pretty crazy last night. But that's what the music does to the soul. It connects everyone in a beautiful way. It's how I connected to you. I saw the music in your eyes from far across the room...and I knew that I needed to know your name. Needed to hear your voice. Oh no, trust me, baby...I don't say that to all of the ladies. Your eyes were shining like...sapphires, like the Milky Way, just...beautiful..."<br><br>He let the last word come out like a small purr of affection, but he cleared his throat and raked and scratched at his beard; something that was looking a little rough for wear. "You are five by five, gorgeous. A knockout. And I just want to know that this won't be the only day that the music touches us in such a way. Now I know I don't live the deluxe life, and the room's...well, it's seen better days..."&nbsp; He gave a small glance about the room, gazing at the wood paneling on the wall that was coming apart in certain areas, small boxes stacked up on top of each other, marked with words like, "Newspapers Clippings," "Broken Instruments," and "Christmas Lights". <br><br>"But I would like to believe that we could make it work. At the very least, it's peaceful..." Abraham continued on, keeping his ever-confident smile upon his face.<br><br>A white Turkish Angora stared unblinkingly back at the smiling Abraham, its posture almost regal and pronounced...before she started to lift up her paw and clean herself. Abraham sighed and gave a small chuckle. "Too corny, huh?" He said, moving himself backwards to lean up against the wall behind him. He brought his knees closer to his chest and sat there for a minute, while gazing back at the cat that was still, cleaning itself and throwing small glances at him.<br><br>"Fine, fine...you win, I'll dial it back a bit. But last night was pretty groovy, wasn't it?" <br><br>The white cat dropped its paw, gave another unblinking look and mewed softly towards him, leaping up into the air and perching herself on top of his knees. Abe took her down and sat her in his lap for a moment, gently stroking her behind her ears. "Guess I should start my day, huh?" He said, looking down at the now-comfortable feline who seemed to just want to lay there and absorb all of the love and attention. He glanced over at the side of his bed and saw his case for his saxophone, slightly ajar with his sax neatly placed inside of it.<br><br>"Alright, Duchess...gotta go make myself look good for the public..." He said, picking up the cat as he stood up and moving through the slight shuffle of small books littering the floor along with dirty clothes that he was going to have to wash, and another case perched up against the door leading outwards that Abe easily pushed to the side while letting Duchess cling onto his shoulder.<br><br>He opened and stepped out into a way bigger and wider open space where there was a small platform, a mic stand with no mic, a broken down couch and loveseat along with a old tube TV with a crack running diagonally along the screen. Abe gently let Duchess down and the cat ran ahead a few feet, turning its head towards him as Abe stretched out, hearing a few bones crack before he shuffled forward, heading towards a nearby staircase and descending down into a more familiar area. The stairs let out on on a second floor landing that overlooked an even bigger area where there were tables with chairs stacked on top of them, a larger stage with a blue mood light pouring dim illumination on a spot where the microphone stand was. A drum set and a piano rounded out the space and Abe swore he could still feel the vibrations coming off of them.<br><br>There was an impatient meow that woke him out of his still-lingering thoughts and he nodded. "I know, I know..." he said, looking around and noticing the small bar area on the same floor as him and moving over behind it to grab some cat food for the 'Royal Highness...' Once that was taken care of, he headed for the employees' only bathroom area. No real showers here...but he made due with what was at his disposal. He then grabbed a set of clothes that the owner usually left for him: a rust orange, button down short-sleeved shirt and a pair of black slacks this time around. He got dressed, grabbing a bit of cologne to rub into his wrists and stared at himself in the mirror; a slightly scruffy but grinning and excited wild man stared back at him.<br><br>"Looking good, Thomas...looking good," he said to his reflection.<br><br>"True, true..." He made his reflection respond back to him.<br><br>He headed out of the bathroom and saw Duchess still perched upon of the bar, feeding herself away. He gave the cat another stroke down its back. "Be good. Daddy's going to go walk the scene."<br><br>There was a small purr as Abe reached behind the bar again, grabbed a set of keys and pocketed them before heading down to the first floor, the Club floor and shifting through the many tables before heading to the emergency exit nearby. He used one of the keys to unlock it and not set off the alarm before he exited out of the Club, into the morning sun, and letting the door slam behind him. He checked the breast pocket of his shirt and found that there was some money left for him as well. Not much, maybe a few bucks to his name. It was good enough. Maybe he could actually grab a meal at Granny's this time.<br><br>He stuffed the money back into the pocket and circled around to the front of the club and strolled the sideway with a jovial strut and a small tune being hummed as he headed straight for Granny's.&nbsp; </span></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Flower</strong> on <strong>04-05-2016, 01:41:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://36.media.tumblr.com/788ca0ab87826443eb28acae5797dde3/tumblr_o1pz1sK49u1tyhl08o6_250.png)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Mildred Voigt <br><strong>Occupation:</strong> Judge<br><strong>Location | Time:</strong> Outside Granny's Restaurant | Morning<br><strong>Wearing:</strong> Work Clothes (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/28/1a/fa/281afa3e19848a514b75f04372b99954.jpg) and Family Heirloom (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/9c/46/8c/9c468cb06f8ae4070e6312efe8f526f0.jpg)<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Corvin Diaval | Mister Gold | Open<hr><br><em>You look nice, by the way, Judge.</em><br><br>“Excuse—!” <br><br>Whatever snappish, and malicious, retort would have fallen from her pursed mouth became lost to the playful winds, which sought to free her blonde hair from its constraints, when the bailiff wisely made a speedy escape across the street. It was fortunate, for him at least, the roads were not busier since he probably would have been hit and injured, considering the noticeably fact that he did not look down the street to ensure no cars were coming. <br><br>She made a note to remind the man of his place upon his return. They were colleagues, not friends. If he wished to maintain even that small invasion into her life, it would be to his benefit to mind his words or she would have him thrown, quite literally, from the courthouse’s steep, stone stairs. Mildred smiled faintly at that wicked but satisfying thought. Would the bailiff dare to cross the line again if she brought about his demise, rendered him penniless and little more than a common beggar to be scoffed?<br><br>Her observant blue eyes did not waver once from observing Corvin as he skillfully maneuvered through the throng of increasingly rowdy loiters of Granny’s popular restaurant. Only when he opened the glass door, with a loud creak audible even to her ears, and disappeared within the bustling establishment did her attention redirect itself to the defilers of the hard earned peace.<br>&nbsp;<br><em>Where was that lazy sheriff?<br></em><br>Now, Mildred was not a fan of the cane-wielding, foul-mouthed, salt and pepper haired elderly woman but her natural inclination for orderliness made it difficult for her to witness the laws being a mockery of before her very eyes. When Mister Gold extracted himself from fraternizing apes, she crinkled her nose, not of disdain but suspiciousness. His outward friendliness or portrayal of meekness, the unnecessary carrying of his cane, did not blind her to the danger he poised towards others. Mildred had fallen prey to his trickery and deceit once before and did not feel inclined to repeat the experience. “Mmm,” She tutted softly under her breath and raked her gaze across his face. “Is my presence unwelcomed in these parts?” 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Once Upon a Time (Main Thread-IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>King Serperior</strong> on <strong>08-05-2016, 14:17:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/46/Walle.jpg)</div>Name: Wally Rustman<br>Occupation: Scrapyard Owner<br>Time: Morning - 1st day A.E.<br>Location: Granny's Diner<br>Tagging: Jazz<br><hr><br>Wally sat at the table in the corner near the window in his own little world.&nbsp; It was his routine, after all, to savor his breakfast because it was always the most important part of the day.&nbsp; Besides, Granny's <em>Sunshine Special</em> was easily the best thing that was on the menu.&nbsp; It was a shame that she didn't serve it except during the mornings as it was basically heaven on a plate.&nbsp; Then again, if she served it all day every day, he would be rather round, which would make moving around the scrapyard rather difficult.<br><br>So deep in his thoughts and so focused he was on his routine, he barely noticed anyone around him as talking faded into a mindless babble before it was tuned out.&nbsp; Granted, with what looked like half the town in the diner this morning, the tuning out took a little longer than he was used to.&nbsp; Still, he eventually turned it all into a grey noise as he continued to eat with a small smile on his face.&nbsp; It was the smile of someone who didn't have a care in the world and was a genuinely happy with everything in his life.<br><br>It was because of this careless focus on his eating that he failed to notice every time the door opened and never heard the bell ring even once.&nbsp; Wally was nearly finished eating about ten minutes later and was reaching for the tall glass of the orange juice when he heard a very familiar voice, <em><strong>"Fine morning to you."</strong></em>&nbsp; He jumped, slightly startled, nearly knocking over the glass, but Wally managed to prevent it from spilling.&nbsp; He looked up just in time to see Jazz sit down with a small huffing sound as she continued, <em><strong>"If fine if it could indeed be called and if your perception of fine and mine are indeed similar."</strong></em><br><br>Wally returned Jazz's grin and nodded, <strong>"I would certainly think so, Jazz, as it is a fine day when I have an interest gift of surprise for you and I."</strong>&nbsp; Wally raised his own eyebrow when Jazz asked if the blonde woman he noticed earlier had delivered the scrap.&nbsp; His other eyebrow raised in surprise when she told him that the clock had been fixed.&nbsp; Now that was unexpected because Wally had often offered to fix the clock on an almost weekly basis, but something always came up:&nbsp; Sorting the usual shipment of scrap, haggling over some of his scrap sculptures, tea dates with Jazz, and many, many other things.&nbsp; Somehow, he was slightly saddened that someone who wasn't him had repaired the clock, but he was happy that it had been done nonetheless.<br><br>Despite the inner turmoil, Wally managed to laugh at Jazz's comment before speaking through the last bite of his pancake, <strong>"No doubt they will.&nbsp; I'm happy to hear that the clock was repaired, but I don't think I understand what you meant about that new girl delivering the scrap.&nbsp; I mean, look at her!&nbsp; Not a single smudge of rust or grease on her.&nbsp; No, it was some large guy who came up to the yard last night.&nbsp; Luckily, I was out there putting the final touches on that dinosaur.&nbsp; I let him in and he left about 1000lbs of scrap before going off.&nbsp; He didn't even stay long enough to sign the paper.&nbsp; I think he just wanted to get rid of it all."</strong><br><br>Wally shrugged as he continued, downing the last of the orange juice, <strong>"Anyway, that's why I asked you to come meet me here.&nbsp; I took just one look at the scrap he dropped off and knew I hit a goldmine of wonderful trinkets, interesting items, and valuable, at least to us, scrap.&nbsp; As promised, you'll get the first pick.&nbsp; After that, we can pick out the goodies from the pile like we usually do during the usual deliveries."</strong>&nbsp; He gave her a wry, toothy grin, <strong>"So, what do you say?"</strong>
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		</dl>
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