Second Life -- Welcome to Fairplay [Stage 1]

[cityship]

It had been the usual mission briefing, not that any of them remembered it. The crew knew they were gone and had no idea when they'd be back, and likely wouldn't attempt rescue for quite some time, especially with Stacy considering the mission "ongoing."

They had no idea when they'd be back, either, namely because they never remembered being on the ship in the first place.

It was home. It had always been home.

Welcome to Fairplay, Iowa, folks, happiest little town in the Midwest.

[ooc: Read this before tagging.]

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[bonnypiperlad]

If the attack happened again, Jamie knew where the phone was, at least. He moved back to the counter, picked up his forgotten tea and took a sip, then made a face. It never tasted the same once the tea had gone cold.

Setting the mug back down, he nodded. "Aye, it was...and not for the first time. I went over to the bakery earlier and one of the clocks on the street did the same thing." He thought maybe he had been seeing things, but clearly that's not the case. Well, unless they were both going mad at the same time, which he wouldn't entirely be surprised if that was the case.

"What do ye think it means, Jono?"

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

Jono carefully pushed himself back to his feet, waving off help. He was used to this by now. He could get himself back up without depending on others. How much longer he'd be able to manage that, he had no idea, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

He shook his head, though, frowning slightly as he scratched his cheek. "Dunno," he said after a moment, reaching for his own tea. It was probably stone cold, but it was better than nothing. "But yer obviously not alone in seein' it." He glanced at the clock with a wry smile. "Maybe it's jus' some weird thing what happens t' immigrants from the UK. Since we're the only ones what've seen it so far."

It sounded stupid to his ears, even, but he couldn't figure out what else it could be.

[bonnypiperlad]

"I suppose so," Jamie said - although he didn't quite believe that explanation, either. "Maybe it's someone's idea of a joke, though," he offered instead. "Someone could have figured a way to change the clocks so they did that."

That didn't quite seem right, either, but he really had no idea what else it could be. Rubbing at the back of his head a moment, he shrugged. "Aye, well, don't know what we can do about it anyway. Say, did ye want me to get ye those strings still?"

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

Hey, Jono didn't believe it, either. It was mostly a joke. "Soun's 'bout roight. Could definitely be a joke."

Two different clocks doing the same thing, though? Sounded less like a joke and more like...Jono didn't even know what.

He blinked, shaking his head to clear it. "Aye, please. Could always use some new strings."

[bonnypiperlad]

"Aye. I'll be right back." Jamie disappeared into the back room again for a few moments, coming back with a sealed cardboard box - similar to the ones used for shipping. He groped at the air by his waist for a second or two, almost as if expecting to find something there to open it with. Realizing there was in fact nothing there, he shook his head. "Och, I must be going daft."

Giving Jono a rather sheepish glance, he reached under the counter to find a box cutter, using it to slit the packing tape open. He retracted the blade afterward, then opened the box itself, pulling a package of strings out and setting them on the counter before moving over to restock the display.

"Let me know what else ye need, but take your time. I'll just get this done while you're deciding."

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

Jono laughed softly, setting his cup down and grabbing his cane. "I'll look around. Reckon I'll fin' a couple of things I can't live without as yet." They likely wouldn't be big things, but a few packages of blank music sheets would never go amiss. Especially when he sort of had a deadline coming up for his next song.

And, frankly, it gave him more reason to hang out and talk to Jamie. That couldn't be a bad thing at all.