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MCA Lobby; Wednesday [08/05].

With music playing quietly again on the record player as she sat behind the front desk of the building, Rachel seemed to be engrossed in some very deeply thoughtful work. Her light eyebrows were furrowed just slightly over her intent blue eyes, and her right hand alternated between twirling around a pen and tapping it on the counter a little as if that could tap into getting the brain juices flowing. There was a notebook in front of her, and the top had been marked with a title: TO-DO LIST

So far, it seemed that the only thing she could think to do today was More cocktails (?).

"Oh!" Inspiration struck like a brick.

"Find. More. Things. To. Do," Rachel said as she wrote the words down, and then smiled proudly at the addition, thinking herself very clever.

[[ open! MCA Info! ]]

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Make some suggestions for her! It'll be fun!

Worf entered the establishment and headed towards Rachel.

"Excuse me," he said formally. "Are you the owner of this establishment?"

Oh, Jesus Almighty, holy forehead. Rachel tried to remind herself that she'd seen people without legs and only torsos before and goiters the size of watermelons on their necks, not to mention Anatole with his fifty gazillion patterned face scars, which made this unfortunate aflection a walk in the park, but reminding herself seemed to be doing nothing to help her with her staring.

"Now there's a case of 'if you make that face, it'll stay that way' if I've ever seen it," she said, frankly, and unable to draw her eyes away because it was like train wreck, you just couldn't help looking, and once you did, you were done for, it sucked you right into its awfulness. Kind of like watching Adah go up stairs. "And, yes, that would be me. Rachel Price, Proprietress."

Edited 2009-08-06 00:40 (UTC)

There are days Worf thinks he should just wear his ski cap all the time. This may be one of them.

"I am KIingon," Worf tried to explain as he gestured to his head. "The ridges on my head are a distinctive mark of my people. I am here to inquire about the availability of the holosuite you have here."

Rachel looked, for a moment, quite helpless in her struggle to project a good, respectable societal image in the face of his...face, and she added more reasoning to this encounter that, really, compared to names like Kuvundu, Tataba, Ngema, or Lumumba for that matter, Klingon wasn't such a bad name at all. She wasn't exactly going to hop right up and name her first born that, but it could be worse.

Besides, there were more pressing matters to worry about. Like not only did she have to be on watch for spots, but she apparently had to keep track of head ridges, too. At least it was harder to hide head ridges.

"The...holosuite," she repeated, knowing the word itself to be familiar, somehow, but not the meaning behind it and she frowned in concentration. It was hard to focus on things when there were ridges involved.

But it did come around. "Oh! That's what they call that room over there, isn't it?"

Edited 2009-08-06 19:25 (UTC)

"Yes," Worf replied gruffly. "Are you not familiar with the technology?"

Rachel shrugged. "I'm from 1964," she offered. "I'm not familiar with a lot of the technology here. I've been using it mostly for storage space."

"It is a fully integrated holographic simulation chamber!" Worf said looking shocked.

"...with a lot of space!" Rachel added, after a moment of realizing that she wasn't sure she understood what Forehead here meant.

Worf face-palmed. "Would you like me to demonstrate?" he asked in a weary tone.

"...Will it take long?" Rachel had to ask.

Robin, truthfully, was a little too thoughtful today, in light of the last week (and, really, it wasn't just the weekend, but that was what she was going to blame it on.)

So when she -- and all the dogs except Dief -- came out of the apartment for their late afternoon walk, she was grateful to go find a distraction in her new landlady. "What're you working on? Exciting lease papers or something?"

As Rachel stared at the Canine Carnival padding across her lobby, she found herself wondering if the Hot Mountie-Scherbatty love-nest was paid for with a desposit, the kind that would definitely not be returned on account of the place smelling like dogs until the end of time, and then she wondered why Robin would have bothered with taking Hot Mountie to the town hall on Friday when she could have just hitched the dogs up to their sled and gone 'Mush!

"Nothing," she managed to say instead, "as exciting as lease papers, let me tell you. Just a bit of a to-do list. Haven't gotten very far, but that's hardly surprising, with how little there is to do around here."

"Do you have a note about drinking a lot on there? Because that's how mine always start," Robin offered helpfully.

With a small grin, Rachel held up the notebook, showing off that it was, indeed, on the list. "First one on there," she admitted. "So far, it's been a keeper."

"Mm, great minds," Robin commented. "And then find more things to do, I see. Hm. Well, the cocktails usually help with that."

"A bit of liquid inspiration, yes," Rachel hummed a little as she set her list back down and looked it over vaguely. "Unfortunately, I'd imagine it'd have to wait just a bit. I hardly need to give the impression to my tenants that their landlady is a complete lush."

Even if she kind of was.

It's there. Might as well use it.

So not a good sign when your brain is scarily similar to Rachel's brain.

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MCA Lobby; Wednesday [08/05].

Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Re: Talk to Rachel -- 08/05.

Use the Lobby for Whatever Else -- 08/05.

OOC -- 08/05.