Difference between revisions of "New in Town, Mavis Meets Amity"

28 September, 2019

Mavis' first few hours in Tamarack Falls and checking into the Red Clover Hotel.

Red Clover Hotel

=====-< << * CURRENT TIME: Sat Sep 28 13:11:54 2019 * >> >-======

                   Current Conditions                  

             Sunrise: 10:45              unset: 22:37              Moon Phase: ()                                                        (Not Visible)                    ure: 29.97 in                                     

             Today's Forecast       Tomorrow's Forecast      

             62 F (17 C) C)              37 F (3 C)C)       Conditions:Possible drizzle in the afternoo Partly cloudy throughout the day

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==========-< << Red Clover Hotel - Fort Brunsett >> >-==========

      Simple, quaint and only half way renovated toward modernity, the foyer of the Red Clover Hotel still shows its original wood bones, ceiling white-washed planks rather than plaster, walls papered over in neutrally tasteful designs. Red clovers, of course, decorate everything, though some of the wood carvings on the chairs, admittedly, are often mistaken for pine cones.

      Set in the northern wall, the entry door is a broad monster of sturdy oak with a carved frame, many-paned windows on either side giving a view of the front yard and the street nearby. The dining room, preserved from the hotel's older days, is opposite the entryway, enjoying the southern light, while the two residential wings open to left and right. The family wing is blocked off with a labeled door, but the fine carpet of the foyer leads the way right through the open doorway to the guest hall.

Amity             Reserved young woman in spectacles            34s Mavis             (Use &short-desc me=text to set this)       0s

Guest Wing <GW>       Family Wing <FW>       Dining Room <DR>       Oak Door <O>      

=========================-< << FB05 >> >-=========================

look out

      A sturdy oak door leads out into the hotel's front yard, flanked by many-paned glass windows.

+glance

-< << At a glance around Red Clover Hotel - Fort Brunsett >> >-=

Short-desc:                                                

Height: 5'4      Weight: 121 lbs. Age: 23       Gender: Female

Build: Lean                   Skin: Tawny brown             Eyes: Honey brown/hints of green Hair: Black                  

Short-desc: Reserved young woman in spectacles                        

Height: 5'6" Weight: 105-110lbs Age: 26       Gender: Woman

Build: Slender                   Skin: Pale                   Eyes: Blue                   Hair: Strawberry blonde            

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look amity
      Amity, despite her name, tends to seem recalcitrant and withdrawn in the way she moves and the way she dresses. First impressions of her would be that she's a small, mousey looking woman who looks out at the world from behind a pair of gold-rimmed eye glasses. Her hair is a strawberry blonde hue and is almost always worn back in a simple braid that falls down to between her shoulder blades or in a conservative looking up-do that keeps it out of the way while she works. Amity's features are slender and angular with a sharp, aquiline nose, high cheekbones, and a perpetually grim expression that never quite seems to leave her face, even when she smiles or laughs. Her eyes are a light blue color, and her gaze seems to dart from person to person in the same space as her, as if perpetually nervous--or perpetually watching.

      She's slender, almost spindly, and generally seems to take up less space than even her middling height of 5'6" suggests. Her figure, which can best be summed up as 'boyish,' is almost always obscured by her clothing. Still, it's there. Her fingers are long and slender, though her fingernails are kept fairly short, suggesting that she does work with her hands.

      Clothingwise, Amity tends towards long-sleeved, high-collared blouses combined with cardigans and other sweaters. Almost always she seems to prefer slacks, though sometimes she wears skirts combined with stockings or leggings. Generally the only skin you'll see showing from Amity are her face and hands. It's rare to see her ruffled or ill-kempt--she almost always seems to have an air of determined poise and propriety about her.

l mavis
      Standing at a unspectacular five-foot-four, Mavis is pretty average in the height department. She's neither skinny, nor chubby, but somewhere on the lean side with the benefit of a youthful metabolism. Her hair is thick, glossy black and is typically left loose to fall down her back in dark waves. Her skin is cast in a warm tone of sandy brown and her eyes are an earthier shade, heavily lined by dark lashes and black eyeliner. At closer inspection, hints of jewel-green ripple her irises. Her nose is a smidgen too wide to perfectly compliment her features, but it's her smile she's self-conscious about, probably on account of a millimeter gap between her top two front teeth.
      Her hands are narrow with long, slender fingers and calloused palms. Someone has a habit of biting their fingernails, Mavis' nails are whittled down to the quicks. She wears exactly eight rings of various materials and on various fingers. Some of the rings share the same digit, although they hold little else in common. Metal, wood, and rock are each represented by at least one of the bands. Adorning both wrists are layered bracelets of colorful cloth, black leather, and a few copper bangles. Surgical scarring from a childhood accident can be glimpsed at the insides of her wrists: faded, pale scars against light-brown skin.
      -+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+-

      An oversized hoodie engulfs Mavis' torso and hangs askew at the collar. It's a gradient scheme of charcoal to black from the shoulders downward, although it has been washed so many times that the black is actually charcoal-gray and the charcoal color is now an ashy shade of gray. It's also a little tattered at the left corner of the hoodie pocket. The fit on Mavis' frame is baggy and long with the bottom hem stretching well down over the tops of her thighs. An out-of-sight leather and metal-studded belt holds up faded, denim jeans with a hole at the right knee and threading webbing across the gap. The pant legs are a little bunched up at the bottom on account of the worn, black boots she wears. The shoelaces are mismatched, bright teal on the right and neon pink on the left.

And 123GO:

      It's a quiet, drizzly afternoon in Fort Brunsett and Amity is at her usual place behind the front desk of the Red Clover Hotel. She's dressed for work--collared pastel red blouse, dark gray blazer (with shiny brass nametag) and matching slacks. It's quiet here, especially since autumn is coming on and most of the summer tourists have gone except for the odd latecomers who have made the trek to the lake late in the season. Amity is typing quietly away on the computer at the desk, though one eye is kept on the front doors. Just in case someone arrives who requires her assistance.

      A yellow taxi cab rolls up in front of the Red Clover Hotel. A youthful, tawny-skinned woman opens the back, passenger-side door and gets out. She's dressed casual, hoodie and jeans, and wears a lot of rings and bracelets. Her black hair is currently twisted back into a loose, messy bun. The driver helps her unload the trunk, seems reluctant to let the carry all of her things on her own, but she insists.
      As he's rolling away in the cab, Mavis is lugging her... well... luggage up to the front foyer of the Red Clover Hotel. Mavis manages on her own just fine despite the bulky, packed-full army duffel back strapped to her back and big, black trunk on two wheels she rolls along with one hand on the handle. She shoulders in through the door, pulling the trunk along on two of its four wheels. The duffel is covered in patches, the trunk peppered with various stickers.
      "Hi," she puffs, coming up to the counter. "I need a room for, uh," she breaks off, glancing up uncertainly, "Gees. I dunno, my car broke down and I'm just moving here- at least it got me to Vermont, right? Anyway, ehh.. Need to get the lights and water on at my gram's, I mean MY place." Gosh. The car breaking down on the side of the road really threw a wrench in Mavis' carefully balanced plans... and lean budget. She looks across the counter at the clerk, not sure how long she'd even need to stay. "Do you guys do weekly rates?"

      "Welcome to the Red Clover Hotel," Amity looks up from her work to greet the new arrival the instant the door opens to grace the new arrival with a brilliant smile worthy of a customer service brochure. She listens attentively, her head tilted slightly and making just the amount of eye contact required to let her know that Amity is taking her questions /very/ seriously. She begins to type again, speaking as she does.
      "We do offer a weekly rates. Luckily for you, you're getting here after the summer rush so our rates /are/ going to be lower than if you'd gotten here at the beginning the month." Hmm. She looks down at her screen as she pulls up the necessary information. "You would be looking at about four hundred fifty dollars for seven days."

      "Thanks," breezes Mavis while letting her trunk settle to the floor. No sense in just standing here holding onto the handle. She doesn't seem all to fazed for someone whose car broke down right outside of her new city, but it wasn't the end of the world. Mavis was already planning to turn the thing into scrap, a whole new line of projects. However, when Amity relates that figure her eyes widen and dark brows raise in alarm.
      "Wow," she puffs, blinking and chewing on a thumbnail as some quick algebra takes place in her head. "Shit, no way around it really..." Guess she's going to have to get a job sooner than she thought. It would mean that she's not going to be able to have her car towed into town anytime soon. Not one to burden others with her problems, Mavis dons a quick smile that reveals a glimpse of that sliver-gap between her two top, front teeth. "Yeah, sure. Shower and a change of clothes sounds great.. Hey, so," Mavis slides the straps of the duffel back down her shoulders and sets it on the floor like someone getting settled in for a conversation, "Do you know anyplace hiring around here?"

      Amity hmms at the question. It's a shame to see someone so put out, so she taps on the keys a bit more, pulling up local jobs while she thinks. She can be helpful! Especially to someone so... nice. And earnest. It's a lovely change from dealing with the changeling world. Someone /normal/. Even if she's just a customer. And... well, that little tooth gap? The dark hair? Amity would be lying if she said she didn't think Mavis was cute!
      "Hm. Let me see. I would suggest the hotel, but with it going into the off-season I'm not sure that we have much need for additional staff--autumn and winter are when things tend to slow down. You might try the mall..." She pulls up something else on her computer. "The shops there are generally always looking for help, especially now that all the high schoolers are done with summer jobs. Plus the holiday season is coming up and I expect they'll want seasonal help for all the shopping..." Hmmm. "There are a couple of cafes and diners up in Tamarack Falls, but getting there without a car can be tricky. There are, of course, the various food court restaurants at the mall. And Stone & Crown Shipping might need people... Oh and there are a few bars around here that might need waitstaff." That rather rounds off the list, doesn't it. "Please let me know if I can help. I know how it feels being new in town and not sure of where to go." A smile. This one is smaller and more constrained, barely there. But somehow more genuine.

      Mavis wears a smile and leans against the counter, setting her elbows on it and fidgeting with a bracelet while Amity types away. "Yeah, I understand. If you ain't hiring then you ain't hiring," she says, nodding along with what the clerk was saying and just pleased the woman seems nonplussed to help her. Mom taught her that manners, a smile, and the right questions would always be at her disposal and, in most polite society, it worked. She reckons that she likes Amity, though. Amity seemed to get that whole "kindness" thing too.
      "Hmm, what is Stone & Crown shipping?" Mavis wonders, elbows and forearms on the counter, left index and thumb finger twisting a string on one of her bracelets word on the opposite wrist. "I'm an artist, sounds like some industrial stuff. Do you know how hard it is to get your hands on some scaffolding without a foot on the inside?" She shoots Amity an aghast stare. "I mean, you can buy it outright but mostly that kind of stuff's wholesale. Might check out some of the bars, though." Can meet a lot of useful people that way, everyone knew someone who knew someone who had junk they wanted to get rid of and Mavis was usually all to happy to take it off of their hands.

      "They handle a lot of shipping around the area. Mostly the local lumber industry. There's... also the architectural-slash-construction firm, ah... what was it? Weissmann & Schwartz. Oh, and Alexander Restorations! They do restoration work on all sorts of things. Cars, motorcycles, bicycles, vintage appliances... If you have experience with industrial work like that, they might be one to check out." A dip of her head, conceding that she knows very little about the industrial side of things.       
      "Anyway, ah... my name is Amity. Welcome to Fort Brunsett." Amity reaches across the counter, offering a hand to the other woman to shake.

      "Sweet!" Mavis brightens and bounces in her shoes. "I'll check those out. Uhh, soon as I charge my phone." She bites her lip, looking a little bashful. So pitiful and stricken with mundane misfortunes: car breaking down, money's tight, phone battery is dead. Oh well! Mavis' light-brown hand slips into Amity's. She has long, slender fingers with bitten nails and some callous on them and the inside of her palm. It's a good handshake though, warm and firm and doesn't cling for too long. She had a lot of practice at meeting people and knew what a constitutes a "good" handshake vs. a "bad" handshake.
      "It's good to meet you, Amity," she says with another brief smile that flashes her white teeth (and the sliver-gap) and pink, healthy gums then winks back out. "Kind of like Amityville Horror, I dig it. My name's Mavis, but friends just call me Mav."
      She recalls something and it clicks right there on her face. "Oh! Right.. Payment." Mavis dips a hand into her back pocket, pulls out a worn, leather wallet and her credit card to pass over to Amity. "Here we go. Just run me for the week's stay. Do you guys have wifi? Or, like, breakfast in the A.M.?" Free food was a struggling artist's nirvana.

      "Pleasure to meet you, Mavis. Or may I call you Mav?" Her hand returned, Amity goes back to her keyboard to begin checking in the other young woman. "And it means 'friendly' so I think it's rather appropriate for me. Though... not sure how I feel about it being related to a horror film. I've never seen it." She shrugs lightly and the reaches out against, slender fingers taking the offered credit card. "Thank you. Do you have a photo ID as well that I can take a quick look at?" The questions come quickly and she has to hurry up and answer.
      "We do have complementary wireless service. The password and other login information will be with your keycard." Type type type. "And we offer a free continental breakfast every morning, yes." A small smile again, amused. "You may get tired of it after a week, though..."

      "Of course you can call me Mav," she tells Amity with a small, startled laugh and a rueful shake of her head. "I was kind of hoping you would get the hint when I floated that out there like that." Her smile turns sheepish and Mavis' shoulders lift and she holds that "helpless shrug" pose while she talks. "I've never been this far west before and you seem nice. Squeaking out "Will you please be my fwiend?" at the first person who's nice to me is... Ugh." She rolls her brown eyes, flecked with jewel green, and lowers her shoulders. "So puke."
      She says all of that while pulling her ID out of her wallet and holding it out for Amity to take and verify whatever she needed to verify. It was all pretty standard procedure.
      Her card reveals a few details about her:
      Mavis Octavia Baines, Born Feb. 21, 1996, female, hazel eyes, 119 lbs, organ donor, blahblahblah. The ID expires this coming February and was issued in North Carolina. She looks about the same in the picture as she does now, although her hair is at a shorter length and has the volume turned up LOUD (AKA. it's poofy af). Mavis isn't smiling in the photo, in fact, she looks quite somber.
      "Oh well, free food is free food," Mavis comments, lifting a hand from the counter and bracelets slide down her lean forearm. She flicks her hand through the air, shrugging a little. "Can't complain about it too much, y'know? I can't believe you've never seen Amityville Horror.. For what it's worth? It's a classic. There's a remake, it isn't too bad either, but nothin' like the originals." Mavis peers over the counter at Amity, scrutinizing her for a brief second from the way she holds her posture to the clothes she wears and the neat state she keeps her hands. Hands said a lot about a person, according to Mavis. She takes a guess with, "What, you don't like scary movies or something?"
      Maybe relevant, maybe not, but Baines isn't a new name to this town. Octavia Baines lived here her entire life, perished, and the house still stands.

      "Well, Mav, my friends call me Ami," Amity replies with another of her strange, restrained little smiles. You know, if she had any friends around her yet. "Wow, this is far west for you? Makes sense, I mean... this is the first time I've been out of Connecticut. Moved here for the job and to get away from the city." Unless you count being trapped in the Fae realm which she most definitely doesn't. Her pale blue eyes flick from Mavis' face down the card as it's handed over. She looks at it, maybe for a moment or two longer than is necessary, checking the name on the cards to make sure they match. The ID is turned over in her hand and she hands it back after that brief moment.
      "Thank you, Mav," it's hard not to feel a little bubbly. Did she just make a friend? She hasn't made a friend in a while and it's exciting! The mention of Amityville Horror gets a tiny laugh, soft and distant. "Oh, I've heard of it. I wanted to see it when I was a kid but my parents wouldn't let me. Said I was too young for it. I never got around to watching it, though..." A little shrug at the question. "It's not that I don't like them, I just... I like happier films." Her slender, neatly kept fingers are soft and pale and the nails are kept carefully clipped short.
      "Is that strange?"
      Another pause. "Wait... Are you related to uh... Mrs. Baines? She died a little while ago? I think right after I moved to town, her obituary was in the paper?"
      
      "Is.. It all right if I call you Amity, though?" Mavis asks, biting down on her bottom lip and, although Amity couldn't see it, turning her toes inward and scuffing the top of her right boot with the bottom of her left. "It's just so fuckn' cool and I've never had a friend named /Amity/," she says while plucking her ID card back and tucking it into her wallet. It was going to be hard for her not to tack on (Amity)ville Horror in her head.
      "Nah, you're not strange," she assures Amity. "Lots of people prefer happier themes, that's why there's so many genres."
      For Mavis, she's a little a-buzz, too, from the change of scenery and successful friend attempt. She earnestly explains, "Mom and I moved around a _lot_ going up, guess she doesn't-- /didn't/," Mavis corrects herself, "agree with the climate out here or something. When I flew the coop, I sorta... just did the same thing." Picking up friends and acquaintances along her nomadic travels was just a knack she'd learned, not that Mavis was overly charismatic but she knew how to pick 'em. Usually. "But I think I'm going to be staying here for awhile."
      She looks a little surprised that Amity asks about gramgram, eyebrows shooting up and there's a quick blink of her eyelids. "Yep, that Octavia Baines was my gramgram. Gees, didn't think people would ask me about it like that, but I guess every town has their kooky, old recluse. I've seen pictures of the house from the suits," she meant the "dudes" that read her mother's will and assets, "It looks kinda creepy, kinda like that house in Amityville Horror, actually. That's what I thought when I saw it. Never met my grandma, though." Just like her mom, Mavis skips over the hows & whys of that, unconsciously, but it was because these were things she didn't know and was discouraged from asking. "I need to go check out the house tomorrow, no one has lived there in a few years, but... Eh, I'll worry about that in the morning." And how she was going to GET there without her car. Before that, she had to get to grandma's security deposit box and grab the key. Problems and obstacles were layering up, but Mavis only thinks about the next step. One thing at a time. It's kind of smart, really.
      
      "It most certainly is. Please, both are welcome." Amity says as she begins finishing things up behind the counter. Creating the keycard, she slides two of them across the front desk towards Mavis in a little open-ended envelope bearing the hotel livery. "Here are your keys. Checkout is by 11AM, but I don't think it'll be a problem for you." Teasing. Just a little. God, it feels nice to feel /normal/ for once. She gives a little tilt of her head.
      "Well, I know how that is. No judgement here about that--I just read the local paper pretty much all the time. We get it in here..." She waves a hand towards the stack of them kept in front lobby for people to peruse. "When it's slow..." A faint laugh accompanies. "Let me know if you need help with anything else--here at the hotel or around town. It's a cozy place."

      She grins and picks up her credit card, putting it back into her wallet with her ID. Chuckling at Amity's joke, she reassures her, "Nope, don't worry about me tumbling out past 11AM, I'll be out here soon as the food's ready." Her wallet gets returned to her back pocket, Mavis has to lift up the hem of the over-long, overly-baggy hoodie she wears to access it. The room cards get crammed into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie and Mavis leans down to grab a strap of her army duffle and shoulder it. "I got it from here, thanks. Actually," she hums, settling the duffle's weight on her frame. "If you don't mind setting out, like, the classifieds? And I can swing by to pick 'em up, see what jobs are posted in the paper."

      "Oh, I'd be happy to." Amity smiles. It's also really nice to smile and feel like you mean it, but there's something warm and sunshiny about Mavis that makes it hard NOT to smile like she means it. Even if all that feeling doesn't really make it out onto her face. She leans forward, looking down at the other's luggage. "If you're sure you don't need any help, I'll just take a look at that paper for you. It shouldn't be a problem. It'll be waiting for you when you get back." She's already reaching for the closest copy and opening it to the classifieds by the time Mavis is stepping away from the desk. When Mavis gets back from dropping off her things, Amity has already circled several likely prospects for her using a pen she has handy.

      She bids Amity farewell, promising not to take too long with showering and changing, but an hour-and-fourteen minutes pass before Mavis returns to the lobby. The young, bubbly woman is freshly scrubbed and clean, smelling of honey and almonds. Her hair's damp, but not wet, and the glossy, black strands are tucked behind her sticky-out ears. She wears a faded, blue t-shirt with a faded logo of a Canadian cereal brand stamped over the chest and a pair of jeans as worn as the other ones, but clean. Instead of boots, though, Mavis just has some old, green converses on her feet.
      "Sorry, sorry," she puffs to Amity as she hurries over to the front desk, looking sorta.. glowy.. but not in a literal sense. "I got my phone juiced enough to turn back on and had, like, twenty-seven missed calls. Just got off of the phone with my friend back in Georgia, she wanted to know I got here okay and stuff." Mavis laughs, a little sheepish over her friend's reaction. She brightens, though, spying the newspaper and circled ads. "Hey, so you found some stuff!"

      "Well, I had some time. It looks like the shower did you good." As always, bright and cheerful. Though Amity lacks some of the initial artificiality that had been there before. "I looked at the ones that seemed might most match up with what you were talking about. Hopefully you'll find something quick--and don't worry about using the hotel as an address, we can hold any mail you get here at the front desk with no problems." Amity leans forward a little, the lobby empty except for the pair of them--it really is quiet right now.
      "So. I'm on the clock until later this afternoon, but would you be interested in grabbing dinner tonight? I can pay. Consider it a 'welcome to town' present or something." Her cheeks tinge a little pink. This is just offering because she wants to get to know her new friend better, that's all. Totally.
      "Please don't think that there's any pressure to accept, of course..."

      "Thanks," Mavis says while taking the classifieds and beaming all gap-toothed at her two front teeth and with the tip of her pink tongue nipped between her top and bottom teeth. She's already checking out everything Amity has circled, bobbing her head along to some dub-steppy beat that only she's hearing within the quiet lobby. "This is rad, Amity. Super helpful," she adds, shaking the paper and evening it back out. The punk-ish artist looks back down at the newspaper, biting her tongue again, but her head snaps back up and she looks at Amity like a deer caught under the beam of headlight when she's asked out.
      Out-out?
      Or just out?
      She's stunned still as she studies Amity for a few seconds before recovering, shrugging and ruffling needlessly with the newspaper while she talks. "Gees, I had kind of planned to cook up some noodles I've got in my bag and crack open some chips," Mavis explains, as if she had been looking forward to that feast. "I put a bottle of water in the little, baby fridge, too, buuu-ut... I mean," she pauses and does that foot-crossing thing again with the sole of one shoe scuffing the toe of the other. "As long as it's not too.. fancy? I can pay for myself, though," Mavis insists, leaning an elbow on the counter and tilting her head while looking at Amity. "I can't letcha do that, I'm not a charity case, y'know?"
      Ah. Pride.

      Amity isn't really sure herself on the out vs out-out thing, Mavis. She's still working that out herself. The response makes her wince. Just a little. Oh that deer in the headlights look isn't good, is it? She steels herself for rejection. Pleasantly, rejection doesn't seem to be on the table, though Mavis is insisting on paying for her own dinner. Amity tries to play it cool (easier when you don't really emote well) and nods her head in agreement.
      "If you want to, I won't stop you. I just thought it would be a nice thing to do, since you're new in town and still looking for a job. And--" Okay, how does she phrase this? Ugh. She can deal with customer service. Actually talking to people? That's hard. "And I don't think you're a charity case, at all. You... you definitely seem to have yourself together. I just thought it'd be a good way to get to know you better." There, that's out in the open. And possibly overplaying her hand, which is mostly 'wow she's pretty' at this point.

      Mavis just listens while Amity works out her feelings and words with a patient, open expression on her face. She also seems just a touch amused, having regained her casual equilibrium after briefly imitating a startled deer. Plus, the traveler got the impression that she had the upper hand, socially, and it's probably true.
      "It's okay, that's just what people do." Offer to pay for your food when they ask you out or out-out for an outing with food involved. "I'm not offended or anything, I know you're being nice, that's what everybody does. It's sweet," she adds with a smile, but also a gentle firmness in her voice that meant, yes, she was paying for herself. "So, uh.. What do you eat? I'm not fussy, really. Hell, we could run through a drive-through then walk around grazing out of greasy bags for all I care." Yup. Very human.

      "Nothing fancy. I'm not exactly living the high life myself," Amity admits. "Probably one of the greasy spoons around here, something simple and filling..." She sounds like a grandmother saying stuff like that, probably. "And like I said, I still have a few hours left on the clock before I'm free but... I thought now was the time to ask, if I was going to." When you get kidnapped by Fae, trying to ask someone to grab dinner seems a little less intimidating. Even if you're not that good at words. "Fast food wouldn't be bad either, to tell the truth."

      "I kind of want to check out the town," Mavis admits with a timid glance at Amity. She didn't know her that well. "Poke around some shops, I saw a few quirky ones on the taxi ride over here. Maybe gramgram wasn't so kooky given the local... flavor," she muses aloud then shoots Amity a sheepish, apologetic smile. She didn't mean HER, of course. "I think I should probably go check my phone, though, make a few calls," remarks Mavis, looking back down at the newspaper classifieds in her hands and straightening it out. She looks back up at Amity, wincing a little as she says, "Kinda feel guilty letting "fun" get ahead of "being an adult" and stuff. See you in a few hours? Just come by an' knock, I'll be awake."

      "Oh yeah, down by Olde Market or the river front, there's some interesting stuff. And yeah, the place does have something of a distinct, uh... flavor." Amity replies. She glances over her shoulder, as if nervous that maybe someone might come along to ask her why she's chatting instead of working. She gives a last little smile and nods hurriedly. "I know the feeling way, way too well. We can talk about it over dinner, right? I'll come by when I get off work." A dip of her head almost like a small bow. "Enjoy your stay here at the Red Clover Inn, Miss Baines."