April would be lying if she ever claimed to be a cautious person, but she tried her best to avoid people on her way to the food court. She had lost track of the number of times that people had bumped into her, or that she had almost tripped over the shoes of someone walking too close to her. It wasn't even that the mall was that busy- it was, but that was neither here nor there- it was just that people would not move out of the way for anything. She wondered if they were specifically out to get her. Probably not, but it made for a nice conspiracy. It was around this time that she finally remembered why she rarely ever came to the mall on a Saturday.
Aside from the massive difficulties in actually getting her to wake up on a Saturday morning- it was normal for her to sleep in at least past noon- and then the difficulties in getting herself to look anything close to presentable- which was easier said than done on three hours of sleep- April just didn't handle malls that well. It wasn't the crowds: April protested and went to rock shows, she could deal with crowds, but there was something off. For a brief moment, April considered turning around, walking back the way she had come, waiting for a bus, and going straight home. She didn't though, because that would have made the entire journey pointless, and she would have hated herself for the rest of the weekend. Fumbling in her pockets for her phone, she eventually grabbed something rectangular and metal, which turned out to be her iPod, complete with tangled headphones. Not even bothering to try and untangle them, April shoved a bud into each ear and hit shuffle.
She walked in what she assumed was the general direction of the food court, realising, far too late, that she had been bopping her head to her music whilst she was walking, and stopped for a moment to try and find her phone. She had a whole bunch of texts that she needed to make. Someone almost bumped into her again here, but they managed to walk around her. April was willing to admit that one was her fault. Pulling the phone out of her jeans pocket, April quickly typed in the four digit passcode and went to text Jeanette. The two had been friends for years, though Jeanie moved to a different state a few years previously. They kept in contact through texts.
She kept the text short and sweet: "Got to the mall without dying. Score."
April kept the phone in the pocket of her sweatshirt as she pulled the buds of her headphones out of her ears and ducked into a Starbucks off in the corner, before the lunchtime rush of people in there. Around five awkward minutes of awkward looks, queueing, and asking if food was vegan friendly later, she was sat at a table outside, with a coke zero in front of her and her phone in her hands, texting the people she was supposed to meet.
Coke Addicts
Food Court, PM for entry.
Coke Addicts
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Macha.
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Casey The Undead*
- Posts: 196
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 3:44 am
((Megan Jacobson continued from Pre Production))
Megan Jacobson was not a fan of malls. Or, more precisely, she was not a fan of how expensive malls could be. Seriously, what the hell? Was it so much to ask for a nice shirt or necklace that wasn't either a) 700 bucks or b) going to fall apart in three minutes? All she wanted was some shiny jewelry.
She stared at the expansive food court in front of her, not particularly hungry but lacking anything else to do. All of the stores had been a bust, and all she'd accomplished was another three photos to add to her Facebook album- The Search for Ugly Shoes. Seriously, department stores were a goldmine for ugly as fuck shoes. Orange pointed told pumps? Hot pink snakeskin peep toe ballet flats? Old people wore the most hilarious things.
Megan sighed to herself, shaking her head a little. Okay, she didn't want food, but that didn't mean she couldn't scarf down some nice, addictive caffeine. She was starting to get a little bleary around the eyes anyways. It'd been nearly three hours since she'd had her coffee.
She strolled a little farther into the throng, looking for a good place to sit her ass down, when she noticed April Stone.
Oh, April. April, April, April. On the long list of people Megan really truly loved, April was pretty high up. Crazy vegan chicks provided hours of endless entertainment.
Besides, she wasn't Anthony. Sometimes (okay, all of the time- dude could be a bit clingy when he wanted too, and fuck it, Megan wasn't his goddamned babysitter, except when she was. Like that one time with the applesauce. Or that time with the water slide. Shit, that had been a wreck, and her neighbor's dog had never forgiven her. Wait, what was the point here?) Oh. Right. Sometimes, that was a pretty big plus.
Megan scratched her head. That last stream of thought had managed to confuse even her. She pushed it aside. All that damn Aspartame was eating a hole in her head. Curse those delicious fucking cancer causing chemicals.
Speaking of Aspartame, Megan grinned at the Coke Zero bottle sitting in front of April. Okay, so it wasn't technically diet, but all that stuff tasted the same when you had washed your tastebuds in enough chemicals to kill a small pig. Or a large one, if she was being honest with herself.
Megan sat across from April, grabbing and swigging from the Coke Zero as she did go. "Heya girlie," she chirped, grinning. "What's down with your bad self?" She paused, grimacing. "Ugh, no, I take that back. I have so many regrets about that sentence. All of the regrets." She cleared her throat and started again. "Hey, what's up?"
Megan Jacobson was not a fan of malls. Or, more precisely, she was not a fan of how expensive malls could be. Seriously, what the hell? Was it so much to ask for a nice shirt or necklace that wasn't either a) 700 bucks or b) going to fall apart in three minutes? All she wanted was some shiny jewelry.
She stared at the expansive food court in front of her, not particularly hungry but lacking anything else to do. All of the stores had been a bust, and all she'd accomplished was another three photos to add to her Facebook album- The Search for Ugly Shoes. Seriously, department stores were a goldmine for ugly as fuck shoes. Orange pointed told pumps? Hot pink snakeskin peep toe ballet flats? Old people wore the most hilarious things.
Megan sighed to herself, shaking her head a little. Okay, she didn't want food, but that didn't mean she couldn't scarf down some nice, addictive caffeine. She was starting to get a little bleary around the eyes anyways. It'd been nearly three hours since she'd had her coffee.
She strolled a little farther into the throng, looking for a good place to sit her ass down, when she noticed April Stone.
Oh, April. April, April, April. On the long list of people Megan really truly loved, April was pretty high up. Crazy vegan chicks provided hours of endless entertainment.
Besides, she wasn't Anthony. Sometimes (okay, all of the time- dude could be a bit clingy when he wanted too, and fuck it, Megan wasn't his goddamned babysitter, except when she was. Like that one time with the applesauce. Or that time with the water slide. Shit, that had been a wreck, and her neighbor's dog had never forgiven her. Wait, what was the point here?) Oh. Right. Sometimes, that was a pretty big plus.
Megan scratched her head. That last stream of thought had managed to confuse even her. She pushed it aside. All that damn Aspartame was eating a hole in her head. Curse those delicious fucking cancer causing chemicals.
Speaking of Aspartame, Megan grinned at the Coke Zero bottle sitting in front of April. Okay, so it wasn't technically diet, but all that stuff tasted the same when you had washed your tastebuds in enough chemicals to kill a small pig. Or a large one, if she was being honest with herself.
Megan sat across from April, grabbing and swigging from the Coke Zero as she did go. "Heya girlie," she chirped, grinning. "What's down with your bad self?" She paused, grimacing. "Ugh, no, I take that back. I have so many regrets about that sentence. All of the regrets." She cleared her throat and started again. "Hey, what's up?"
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Casey The Undead. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.