#6 Main St.

[vVv]

"oooh, let's go!!" victor grabs kelsey's hand and tugs on it excitedly, "that way? i don't really know nobody here, but i loooove watchin' people, and especially the tricksy ones!! even if we don't find that blue girl, bet we could dig up some good clues about other stuff 'long the way.. the more you know, right? cuz information is.. POWER!! let's go!"

she pauses for a minute, still holding kelsey's hand, frowns at the ground, cocks her head.

"we should probably, like, play it cool &casual, and keep a low profile, huh? i can do that. do they have ice cream?"

[Owle Isohos]

Kelsey chuckled. "This way! I'm glad you have a lot of energy, the shortest path there is really steep."

She grinned at Victor's enthusiasm and did her best to keep up with the teenager's stride. "Probably. And I bet Flo could find you some ice cream. She's the woman who runs the diner; real nice, pretty eyes, got red hair she usually keeps done up in a ponytail. Let's see...you focus on the left side of the diner, and I'll focus on the right? Flo's usually in the back left, in the kitchen, and the Ross boys usually claim the table in the back right, so we can both pretend we're looking for someone else entirely."

((I'll hop over and make a thread in the AAA Diner. Update: ))

[kimp]

(( As promised - to keep thread intact - this is a double post from AAA Diner ))

:: Its a typical day in the AAA. One of the servers is wiping down the tables with a rag, their head bobbing along with the music from the jukebox. Several people are sitting at one of the tables towards the front of the diner, engrossed in a mean game of pinochle. The sound of sweeping comes subtly from the area near the 'secondary' front door. There are sounds of food prep coming from the kitchen. And a lovely smell, like baking blueberry pie. Yum. :

As Kelsey makes her way to the door leading to the back porch/lakeside entrance, she may note a blue post-it B stuck haphazardly to the interior door frame, sort of slapped up there at around knee-height and threatening to fall at any moment.
On the front of the post-it is written "Leo/Sally"
On the back it reads: Leo. And or Sally. I would like monkey-picked oolong. Or a monkey minion to pick my oolong. ::

[kimp]

:: Doubled Post from Fox & Hounds at the AAA Diner ::

A man and woman head along the road from the field across from the homes on Main Street. They speak in normal tones that still manage to carry. Local Number One says to Local Number Two...
(What? I know their names? Hmmm... sticking with the trend which seems to be that everyone seems to have double names in this place - like its a whacky combo of Redneckia and Whoville I'll take a shot in the dark and go with...)

Betty Sue Who says to Tommy Lou Who-Dat: Yeah, I took the shotgun over to the chicken coop when I heard the disturbance. Figured I'd catch me a fox there, what with all the racket the chickens were making but I didn't find hide nor hair of a critter.

Tommy Lou then says: You check under the coop? In the boxes? Under the hay? You know them foxes can be tricksy.

Betty Sue gives Tommy Lou 'the eye': What kind of backwoods fool you take me for Tommy Lou?
She stops, shakes a finger at him: Don't you be answering that Tommy Lou. Don't you be answering that.

Tommy Lou grins and snatches the finger Betty Sue is shaking and raises it towards his mouth as if for a kiss: Only fool here 'bouts is me, Betty Sue.

Betty Sue blushes and makes to snatch her hand back, but her motion is for sure slow: Aw, you!
Then she turns a look on Sally, her eyes narrowed. In a raised voice she snaps: What you looking at?

((Narrator note: For the sake of my sanity I'm going to establish that ya'll are about 45 minutes into this thing at this point. Just to hammer down a timeline ))

[Sally]

::doubled post from AAA diner... since I'm not actually in the diner::

Taken aback, Sally snaps, "Some-body plum fool 'nough to take a shot gun inta they chicken coop- good way to blow out yer coop walls an' a coupla hens while you at it. Twenty-twos is made fer a damn reason! So what in tha blue hell you lookin' at?"

Sally squints all the same, trying to determine if either of the couple could be Liberty Blue in disguise. For a brief, brief moment, he even considers that they both could be, via some sortsa weird hoo-doo, but then recalls the rule against Funny Stuff.

As convinced as he can be that this is not the case, Sally keeps scanning the horizon. As the couple huffs away, he says, "Hey, ya'll see an In-di-an girl- like, Pun-jabi o' Ganges-zi, not Ab-en-aki, you get to hollarin'. She on a wild flashin' spree. Wouldn't want yer del-i-cate sensibilities harmed none."

He glances back to the AAA, hoping for a ruckus!

[kimp]

:: Betty Sue, clearly the spokeswoman of the two, seemed to chew over Sally's words - like she was working it through a NH-to-Appalacchia-Redneck translator. After a moment she jerks her head in the direction of the field. ::
You mean maybe the one that was runnin' o'er there near the chickens 'bout fi-teen minutes ago?

:: she lifts her brows high enough to form furrows on her forehead deep enough to plant corn. Then narrows her gaze ::
Might not be the same. This one was wearing clothes. Though...

:: another pause :: come to think of it seemed like maybe not Her Clothes seeing as I'd swear I saw that shirt on Johnny Boo earlier.

[kimp]

((Boosting the signal))

:: Madrigus' decimation of their chipmunk brother cleared the crazy Madrigus pheromone haze from the remaining 'munks. They scattered with a speed that whipped his robes around his frame, like a chipmunk-wind. For a moment one got tangled in the hem but it wrenched itself free with a tiny little squeak and fled after its brethren.

Stories thereabouts would speak of a pack of chipmunks fleeing for the border like a small, furry tide; sorrow heavy in their tiny eyes. Their God had failed them. Forthwith they would worship cheese.
(Cheese did not bite your head off. And... It was Cheese. What more need be explained?)

Somewhere in the woods a tiny statue of Madrigus burns - a silent memoriam to a fallen friend and a shattered Faith.

As the group travels from the AAA to the farm area of town it's pretty much same old, same old.

Any attempt to track in a town is kind of an exercise in frustration - but, hey, try if you want to. The results will be something like this: 25+ people passed this way. Some wore boots. Some wore shoes. One intrepid soul wore flip-flops. A lot of dogs came through. Some cats. WAY too many squirrels to count. Grass is bent. Dirt is scuffed. Small rocks are overturned. If it was only a quiet glade in the woods these details might be important, but in a town...?

The group peels into the field, their gazes taking in the bucolic scenery. Which is to say… grass. Lots of grass. One might expect a sheep or three to be cropping on the grass, that’s how bucolic the scene is.

Butterflies flit about, flirting with bees that skim the air looking for flowers to pollinate. A bird pecks at the ground, taking flight as the group breaks the golden late-day, the kids all went home for snacks or naps or making-their-moms-pull-their-hair-out silence.

In case it isn’t clear enough, ain’t no one been through here for some time.

Chickens peck at the ground behind the fencing around the chicken coop. Several look a little ruffled. Here and there on the ground are loose feathers - not the standard stray down, but actual feathers. Like, maybe, there's been a ruckus sometime recently.
(Visual - you know how in Fable sometimes you just HAD to kick a chicken? For distance? Yeah... Picture that)

Stuck to the side of a coop is a blue B post-it. On the post-it is:
I fear nothing. Except chickens. I have seen the face of evil. It has a beak.

The post-it is grubby, like maybe it got dropped into the dirt then picked up again before being stuck to the wall. If the group hovers there too long they will see the wisdom of these words, for the chickens are unquestionably eyeballing them. ::