Fandom Island and Town

"Fuck me." Gregorith muttered.

There was a lot of down time at this job which he usually used for catching up on paperwork from Hell, or sketching out ideas for ceramics projects. Today he'd remembered he meant to see what the "spam" folder in his email was all about.

In the afterlife spamming someone only meant flooding their feed or inbox with a particular kind of message or pic or something. Cthulhu was a big spammer, sending everyone endless baby pictures and videos of his kids. Sharkie tended to spam their loved ones with, naturally, shark memes.

And Asmodeus was REEEEEEEEAAAAAALY fond of jump scare pranks and Rick Rolling people.

The afterlife didn't have phishing/junk mail.

He desperately hoped nothing actually important had slipped through the filter and landed in this folder because it was all getting unceremoniously deleted.

"Did Lily have to deal with this when she was alive?"

It currently wasn't actually raining, but Gregorith had found a rain ambience video on youtube and had it playing at his desk. He was just in a rain kind of mood he supposed.

He was also printing out pictures of cartoon characters to post up around the building as sort of a scavenger hunt, just in case anyone with kids showed up.

And just for his own amusement, he'd printed out a sign for the butterfly room that said "Warning: Butterflies".

Gregorith was quite enjoying his morning. He had donuts and coffee and a lovely view. Sure he missed Hell, and his friends. Sure he was a little worried he’d been away from the practical part of his job so long he might be rusty. But Fandom was nice. Especially now that it was warm.

Surely he could be forgiven for not initially noticing the backpack beside him on the bench with “WILL NEVER BE LOVED” stitched on it in big friendly letters.

Gregorith was somewhat lost in thought this morning. He'd gone home for a few days, and while there he'd inspected the warehouse they'd set up on Level 9 for a certain billionaire, and he'd gotten lost. The warehouse was massive, and the rows upon rows of storage shelves all looked alike.

And then Sharkie had told him about the internet memes and creepy pastas about that, so now, while he was also keeping an eye out for museum patrons, he was scrolling through photos of liminal spaces.

Gregorith had been initially puzzled when he hear the radio update. He didn't know Watts and Stephen had kids. Granted it was Stephen's prerogative to volunteer that information or not, but he hadn't struck Gregorith as the type to keep that a secret.

But then he thought he remembered something he'd seen in the museum's archives. Soon enough he found what he was looking for. Records of weekends past where possible future children found their way to the present. There were transcripts of radio broadcasts and some photos.

He chuckled ruefully at the shell shocked expressions on some of the future parents. He also thought of how weird it must have been for the kids, to meet their own parents when they were little more than kids themselves.

He counted himself lucky that he seemed to have been skipped over by this particular event, though part of him was a little sad as well. Just more proof that he was not likely to have a family of his own.

He put on some music and double checked that everything was child safe.

Gregorith had been given the option by Blathers to take the day off, but Gregorith had most of the week off so he'd opted to come in for at least a few hours in the morning.

He'd spent the first hour hiding candy and small toys (some of which he'd made himself) throughout the museum, and put a sign out front inviting folks to come hunt for them.

The Museum is open for knowledge seekers, or the hunting for munchings, crunchings, or small things to put on your shelves or desks.

though tis the day of the big fambly gathering for the mun so I will likely be afk for a big chunk of the day. Happy Spring Holidays everyone!

"Mortal weather is bullshit." Gregorith grumbled. At least it wasn't quite as cold as it was yesterday morning but this flip flopping of temperatures had him making copious notes on the proper way to treat corporate CEO's (who he was given to understand were at least partially responsible for climate change) when they arrived in Hell.

On the other hand maybe having someone with "boots on the ground" so to speak was a good thing. It was wonderful that the Universe did the heavy lifting when it came to judgement, but some first hand experience with the results of rampant greed and cruelty was giving him an all new perspective.

"Okay enough of that." he thought out loud. "Euterpe, play some Jimmy Buffet if you please." (He'd brought a device from home that functioned like an Alexa.)

A song about longing for the tropics fit his mood perfectly and accompanied him as he double checked the display upstairs commemorating some of the vacations Fandom students had taken.

Since his job(s) here in Fandom didn't take up a huge amount of time, and there was only so much pottery Gregorith could do, he was thinking of branching out into some other artforms as well.

Hence a bunch of crafting books spread out on his side of the front desk, which he wasn't paying much attention to just at the moment because he'd also decided to take up some of his admin work for Level 9 again and he was also going over proposals for certain peoples' consequences.

He was particularly pleased with the idea of a pocket realm where the soul in question would be surrounded by people completely ignoring them. That seemed appropriate for that guy.

But he was distracted from that because one of the hellhounds back home had had puppies and Bel had sent pictures, and he just found himself gazing out the door. He usually wasn't one to daydream but today was...

"Is this what Spring Fever feels like?"

The museum is open, but the Demon Docent is distractinated.

Gregorith was grateful for the bluetooth thingee as he set up this morning.

"I'm so glad you like it, Sir."

*Cthulhu Noises*

"I did? Excellent, thank you! And congratulations, your latest spawn are adorable by the way."

*Cthulhu cooing delightedly*

*beep*beep*

"Oh, sir I've got another call I gotta go. Say hi to Dagon for me, okay, bye."

"Busy day for my phone, Bel what's up? I am at work so I may have to hang up on you dramatically."

[Museum and the post are open, he'll likely be off the phone by the time you need to talk to him.]

Gregorith went through the latter half of his routine at work without realizing there was a butterfly chilling on one of his horns, apparently unconcerned with it's resting place being so mobile.

It wasn't until he caught his reflection in one of the glass displays that he noticed.

"How long have you been there?"

He took a quick selfie to send back home before heading back to the butterfly room. Fortunately the insect did not make like a cat and make a break for it the second a phone's camera was put into use.

Gregorith didn't have a lot of experience with the rain. Such weather tended to be only found in specific people's paradises, or Cthulhu's realm. He supposed he might enjoy it more if it wasn't also chilly.

And if he hadn't stepped in a puddle, and realized he should have worn his boots after all.

He was a bit late for work because he'd opted to dash back home to change his socks.

But when all was said and done he was here, and relatively content. Which he suspected was the best a lot of mortals could hope for.

It was remarkable how quickly one could get accustomed to things. It was in the high 30's today and the frigid temperatures of the past few weeks had become so part of his routine that it seemed warm. (he still eagerly awaited the spring)

But it meant he was in far better spirits today. So much so that he danced a bit (nothing fancy or 80's cleaning montage worthy) as he got everything set up, with The Offspring encouraging him over the speaker.

"So dance fucker dance..."

I need a t-shirt that says "Dance like only the squirrels are watching".

Gregorith had vacationed in Asgard, had even spent some time in what he thought were the colder areas. But he'd not spent a lot of time in those areas and they never got this cold.

On his way in to work he remembered something from a funny video he'd seen where a woman started out singing a Christmas song and then cut off dramatically when she opened the door to see a wet snowy landscape.

"Well the weather outside is- nope!"

He'd layered up so he wasn't even that uncomfortable on the short walk but the cold made him somewhat paranoid about exposing any part of him to the air. And when he got inside he felt suddenly sleepy and he wondered if it was his eyes thawing out.

In any case he was here, and he was working on de-grouching himself.

Gregorith's best friend Beleth had had a garage band when they were teenager, and occasionally still indulged in this hobby. Usually in the form of karaoke. His current go-to was a metal version of Pink Pony Club, which Lily had secretly recorded and sent to Greg.

This was what he was listening and dancing to as he set up the desk and made sure the lobby was squared away. He made sure the volume was at a reasonable level when he went to check on the butterflies but they seemed to enjoy it as well.

The museum is open.

[It's not GWAR, but it's semi-canon for Greg]

Gregorith had heard through the handwavy grapevine that there were new students, so on the off chance they wandered his way, he made doubly sure that the museum's maps and brochures and the like were where they were supposed to be.

He had walked to work disguised but once he'd gotten himself situated he decided to drop it. Unfortunately the possibility that he might scare them put him on edge and so he had on his resting stab face.

The trip home had been refreshing. And exhausting. When he lived there he could space out socializing, but he'd had to cram all the visits and hang outs and get-togethers into one week and as much as he loved Bel, Lily, Sharkie, his mother and sister, Lucifer and even Asmodeus it had all been a lot.

So after a meeting with Lucifer and the other head deities, determining that a continuing presence here in Fandom would be useful, it had been a bit of a relief to get back to his quiet townhouse.

Even if the cold was uncomfortable.

Maybe some time in the butterfly room would do him good.

[The Museum be open]

Gregorith didn't think twice about the tree that he found in the lobby when he came in, assuming it was just part of the seasonal decoration. After he had settled in for the day, he contemplated it though. Deciding it needed a little something.

Sure the tinkling sparkles were nice but lights on a tree just weren't enough were they. So he went hunting in the storeroom and went to work adding some color.

"There. That's ridiculous. I'm sure Sharkie would be proud." And Bel would possibly be appalled. Asmodeus would be very amused, which Gregorith could be grouchy about. Win win.

The tree was now decorated with fabric swatches. The star at the top was made of paint color samples stapled together. He took pictures to send back home and then immediately started second guessing his choices. Especially the color sample star. Maybe that was too much.

The museum is open.

The unexpected arrival of a polar bear(!) in the museum startled Gregorith. It startled him. And it concerned him. He would freely admit to being afraid if he was afraid but he wasn't. Yet.

He dropped his disguise, much the same way a red panda might rear up to appear larger.

The polar bear blinked at him.

Gregorith stared.

The polar bear stared.

Then the polar bear extended a paw and offered him a bottle of coke.

"Oh. Uh, thanks."

The museum is open.

Gregorith's sense of time had gotten a little out of wack by his estimation since coming here. And it wasn't the concept of the work week, or even set months that was irking him this morning, it was the deadline regarding holiday shopping.

His circle people had expanded recently with the addition of Lily and Sharkie, and now had increased again with Steven, and maybe Jon. And when you lived in a place outside of time, that gave you plenty of time to figure out, and acquire gifts for people.

His habit had been to make or commission something, as they also lived in a place where it was so easy to get things you wanted for yourself.

All of this was to say that Gregorith was a bit distractinated at work today, poring over lists of gift ideas and stressing if he had enough time to finish any crafty things.

But the museum was open.

Gregorith idly twirled his favorite pen, shaped like Mr. What's Musical Multi-tool(tm) as he circled the troll "statues", occasionally stopping and sketching something, paying special attention to the faces. And sometimes he'd tuck both pad and pen away so he could pull out his phone for picture taking.

He was possibly overthinking an art project.

(open like an open post what is open)

Gregorith spent the morning looking at the event specific exhibits. He found it interesting that Fandom had been a high school for quite a while, before becoming a university, and it brought back memories of the equivalent of Homecoming back home.

He was just beginning his emo goth phase then, if he recalled correctly.

Then he settled behind the desk in the lobby with his sketch pad, trying to expand on some of his pottery ideas. He was kind of warming up to the idea of a bird bath, with maybe a lounging Cthulhu.

(Le Museum, she is open.)

Today, in between helping any visitors what needed it, Gregorith was spending most of his time up in the art gallery. Partly he was seeing if he could match any of the paintings, photos and sculptures with events that had exhibits downstairs, and partly he was looking for inspiration for his own creative endeavors.

And then one of the plaques caught his eye. Two portraits of former students, on loan from a museum in another version of Faerie it seemed. The sign said they were Momoko and Karla. Apparently they were good friends of the last queen of Faerie, Leda Danan.

That had been the name of one of the ambassadors he'd met some years ago back home. He'd have to look it up later.

In the meantime he went to the desk to grab his sketchbook.

(Museum is open, portraits used with players' permission.)

Gregorith had been somewhat spoiled by a universe that provided whatever its denizens required. He'd gone from living in a condo spacious enough to house a fully functional pottery studio, to a townhouse with space that could be converted, but a kiln was another matter.

He'd pondered that on his way to finally checking out the art supply store and discovered to his relief that they not only had a kiln, but workspace that he could schedule the use of.

He was probably going to buy his own set of tools however, just to be able to use his tools.

Oh and a new sketchbook! He had one but he suddenly liked the idea of having a brand new one for Fandom. He didn't need pencils, colored or otherwise but what difference did that make?

(Post is open for anyone who wants to see a tall demon in disguise going a bit overboard in craft supply shopping)