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Jonothon Starsmore furnaceface
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The Apartment Above the Boards, Monday Evening
Jonothon had a set of keys in his hand. He'd been staring at them, vaguely perplexed, since sometime this morning. He'd tracked down the person who purported to have ownership of the Groovy Tunes, intending to ask what their asking price for the building was, and they'd laughed and thrown the keys and the ownership papers at him before making a mad dash for a convenient portal.

... Some people just couldn't get away from the island's insanity fast enough, apparently.

Jono had given his head a shake before heading back to the Boards to contemplate just what, exactly, this was going to mean. There was a series of rooms upstairs from the Groovy Tunes that he could move his things into, and it wasn't as though the small size of the kitchen or the bathroom up there were going to bother him any. The space over the Boards was huge, but he was only one man (or two-thirds of one, depending on how you looked at it), and without someone to share the flat with, what was he doing with all of those spare rooms, anyhow?

He knew people had been cautioning him not to rush into anything, but this seemed right to him, somehow. Very few things in Jonothon's life ever did.

And that was why he was making trips up and down the stairs, carrying the few boxes he had yet to actually unpack into the lobby of the Boards before making his way up for more. At the end of the day, he really didn't have all that much to lug around, anyhow. It wasn't like he was going to be bringing the dishes.

After about twenty minutes of this, while he was taking a short break, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to a handful of his friends.

Apparently I'm moving. A madman threw the keys to the Groovy Tunes at my head and fled the island today... Hooray?

[OOC: Working late again and my brain is melting a bit. Open for visits or return texts if anyone would be so kind as to distract me.]

icecoldfrost

2014-01-07 12:03 am (UTC) (Link)

Moving? Honestly, darling, you ought to flee the island and move to Long Island if you're going through the fuss of moving boxes. We're much more entertaining.

Emma? Text under her desk in the middle of her evening class? Perish the thought... it didn't count if you were telepathically keeping everyone from seeing what you were really doing. Which was texting out in the open with your feet on your desk while you were picking the professor's brain.

furnaceface

2014-01-07 12:16 am (UTC) (Link)

Not in any hurry to go back to New York. Groovy Tunes is just down the road.

Which made it far more convenient. Being literally three doors down from the place you were moving to saved all kinds of bother with things like moving vans and the like.

I'd stand out a bit out there, anyhow.

icecoldfrost

2014-01-07 12:34 am (UTC) (Link)

Stand out? You make it sound like you don't know the premier telepath in the city, she typed back. My feelings are hurt, Jono. Really.

Ego, thy name is Frost.

furnaceface

2014-01-07 12:38 am (UTC) (Link)

I'm certain you'll somehow survive the heartbreak. Besides, if I move away from the island, it will likely be to Glacia. Karla will kill me otherwise.

Something or other about being a part of her first circle, and all.

I think she's set down a strict 'no visiting variations on my own reality ever again' rule.

icecoldfrost

2014-01-07 12:51 am (UTC) (Link)

Karla can pout her little heart out. I have dibs. Because Emma was totally mature. Besides, you've been here before with nothing terrible happening. We stole diamonds from the Hellfire Club and got away with it. It was fun!

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give_areason

2014-01-07 01:11 am (UTC) (Link)

Rosalind raised her eyebrows at the text.

Does this mean you'll be taking a job at the library next?

Honestly, Jono.

furnaceface

2014-01-07 01:13 am (UTC) (Link)

I think Constantine has that all sorted out. Besides, if I really want to work with books again, I happen to know somebody who owns a bookstore and is hiring.

There was a moment's pause, and then he sent another text.

Nostalgia did play a role in this, I'll admit.

give_areason

2014-01-07 01:22 am (UTC) (Link)

How shocking.

Colour her completely unsurprised.

And what makes you think I'd hire you?

Rosalind... actually really wanted to know the answer to that question.

furnaceface

2014-01-07 01:24 am (UTC) (Link)

If I were looking? The years of working in a library would definitely be an asset. And I probably wouldn't end up burning the place down.

Probably.

give_areason

2014-01-07 01:29 am (UTC) (Link)

I think you remember your years of library work differently than I do.

She'd caught him not-working more than a couple of times, after all.

But it would be cruel to point that out.

Which she just had. Of course.

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never_dull

2014-01-07 02:25 am (UTC) (Link)

Hannibal didn't bother texting back; he was less than half an hour away, and he had offered to help whenever Jono moved.

He parked at the causeway and made his way to the Boards, looking around for Jono. "Could you use some help?"

furnaceface

2014-01-07 02:31 am (UTC) (Link)

Jono glanced up at Hannibal as he set down yet another box, this one with 'donate' scrawled across the side. He wasn't holding out hope of ever fitting into a lot of his clothes from the past few years again. The fewer he had to move, the better.

//When can't I?// Really, he needed all the help he could get. //My text didn't interrupt anything, did it?//

never_dull

2014-01-07 02:43 am (UTC) (Link)

"Nothing I couldn't put off until later," Hannibal answered easily. The evening's entertainment could wait. "Where shall I start?"

furnaceface

2014-01-07 02:58 am (UTC) (Link)

//Good question,// Jono admitted, looking down at the boxes already tucked away in a corner of the lobby. Most of them were marked 'donate,' and he suspected there were a lot more where those came from. //I think I'm still trying to puzzle out just how many things I actually need. I won't be keeping anything from the kitchen, save whatever I need for Joni. I've got clothes I'm not likely to fit into again, and a great deal of absolutely worthless crap I've managed to hang on to since high school. Apparently, I'm a pack rat.//

Or he'd just never had the chance to really figure out what he could throw away.

never_dull

2014-01-07 03:47 am (UTC) (Link)

Hannibal thought about offering to cart things off to wherever Jono was donating them, but given a choice between playing pack pony and helping rifle through personal possessions...he was a psychiatrist.

"Let me get boxes; you can hand things to me and tell them which they go into," he suggested.

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