Who: Spider and Signless
When: July 21st, 9:00am
Where: A tea shop near the plaza
Style: Like, you know, whatever.
Status: Closed without prior arrangement.
Spider was up a bit early today, excited for his interview. He hasn't had the chance to get back into his game, and his first victim apparently has some sort of messiah complex. Perfect. This bubble might be blissfully lacking in politicians, but he would get bored if there weren't some sort of self righteous bastards for him to take down. Religious nutjobs will do just fine in a pinch. He was going to be careful with this though. His initial invitation was cordial and polite, carefully calibrated to lure in the unsuspecting prey. This was going to be fun. He'll let the guy get his say, give him a chance to explain himself, and when the time was right, Spider would strike down with great vengeance and furious anger. Oh yes.
At the appointed time, spider was already seated at a table with his typewriter in place. A cup of tea was at his side, only used so far to wash down some unidentified pills. He 's watching the crowds for an adult troll that looks just like his protégée. Alright, so Vantas had told him to play nice with the guy. At the very least Spider will give him a chance before tearing him apart.
He has already started to type.
Who: Spider Jerusalem and whomever is brave enough to come near.
When: May 28th, afternoon.
Where: The Plaza
Style: Action, though prose works too if you want.
Status: Open to all
Warning: Skinny white guy butt.
[It's that time of the month again, when the plaza plays host to a few new arrivals. They're usually confused, scared, or angry, and it is not uncommon for there to be some yelling. However, what comes from the area now is a string of profanities so heartfelt it's probably stripping the bark off the trees up on the island, not to mention what harm it's causing local property values, if property values were really a thing around here.]
[A new arrival landed in the plaza with the customary splash of seawater. A human male, hairless and covered in a variety of tattoos. He's wearing a very odd pair of sunglasses, and a strange set of sneakers. Unfortunately for anybody present he's not wearing anything else. It seems a few items arrived with him, and lacking in clothing his entire inventory is also... exposed. Besides the shoes and glasses his arrival included a typewriter of some strange make, a pack of cigarettes, and what looks like a gun out of some bad sci-fi flick.]
[The initial anger and shock have worn off. It was the smell that got him first. Wherever this is, it's not The City. Far too clean, far too quiet. He was brought here against his will though, so naturally he was on edge. He's survived far too many assassination attempts to not wonder just who brought him here and why. Looking out at his scattered possessions, he dove for the one thing that would be best to keep close to him in such an uncertain environment.]
God fucking damnit. The whole pack is soaked.