monkeybars | party post } { drinks are on me

So the thing about wishing for home and accidentally winding up with your place of employment is that that employment can now transfer to Teleios. Cami's had Rousseau's for about six months now, and she's managed to change it into the place that Sophie and Jane Anne loved to something that's a little more something of Teleios, even if she kept a lot of the New Orleans flair. It's something she couldn't bring herself to take away, that memory of home, even if she's far, far away.

The upper floors have been modified into a small loft for her and Hope, something simple and comfortable that's currently loaded with baby toys because when you're being spoiled by your Aunt Cami, you can never have too many. She still doesn't know why Hope came with her when she was brought into Teleios, but she is going to do everything in her power to keep her safe until Klaus our Hayley get here. It's not much power, given the measly human of it all, but that's why she hires attractive, strapping supernatural gentlemen to do her dirty work for her.

Currently she's behind the bar, with Hope in her playpen that she worked in there, just so she can keep an eye on her. She's more than willing to pour you a drink, listen to your troubles and woes and make sure that you leave her bar with your mind feeling a little lighter. After all, there's nothing more dangerous than a bartender who also happens to be a psychologist. She'll get what you're worried about out of you sooner or later.

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She counts by tapping her fingers against the table until she reaches thirty seven. At which point she reaches out and gently shoves her hand in his face and pushes it away so he will stop making that face. Ugh it's worse than her disappointed face.

"Okay, you're done for the rest of the year, give it a rest."

As soon as her hand makes contact with his face, he's laughing and letting her shove him. He shakes her off and runs a hand quickly through his hair.

"How's your arm?" Not to be a worrisome brother forever, but I mean they were pretty drunk and sometimes shit happens. It's a fair question. But this is also to say that he will never stop, never giving it a rest. You're stuck with him.

His laughter draws a rare smile out of her. Behold, she can outright grin.

She shrugs, not too concerned about it, but she twists the cast so he can see that there's a crack on the underside of it. "I need to get it recast, probably tomorrow. The plaster's coming apart. I must have hit it on something. Or! I'm turning into the Rock and I can just break plaster casts by flexing my huge muscles."

HA! Huge muscles. Brett has muscles, sure, she works out, but they're teeny muscles. Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson she is not.

He snorts a laugh at her comment on her muscles. "Yeah, it's totally that one. We'll swing by Helen's tomorrow. Just try not to bust it any more tonight and you should be fine." Not that she doesn't know that already. He just has to say it out loud to make himself feel better.

"So how much of last night do you remember? Because I've got nothin."

"Same, nothing. It started getting fuzzy after those purple shots and then... nothing." She shrugs, relatively unconcerned. If they'd done anything particularly illegal she's sure the cops would have done something by now. She doesn't consider fights to be so bad.

But she peers into the glass for a moment, taking a fortifying sip before offering another solution to her cast. "Would you turn your worry up to eleven if I had Helen take the cast off and leave it off for a few days. In one of those exocasts. Just to let it breathe."

And so she can shower without a plastic bag and duct tape. Granted, it all but guarantees she won't leave the house for however long she has the airy cast on because she knows how fragile -- and gross -- her arm is, she's not going to do anything unnecessary, she just wants to be able to feel her arm for more than a few hours in that span between breaking the cast and plastering a new one.

"It's been over two years, Jake. I don't even remember what a breeze feels like anymore."

He doesn't like it. That much is really obvious right away. The idea of her having her cast off just makes him anxious. Anything could happen to it and there would be no way to really heal it.

"We can...talk to Helen about it. If she thinks it's okay..." He still doesn't like it, but he can't really make her decisions for her.

That is as close to a yes she is going to get out of him, she thinks. Frankly, she's surprised she got that much, having geared up for a reflexive 'no, it's too dangerous'.

(It probably is, but... air.)

"Thanks, Jake." Even if Helen says no, that it's not safe, at least Jake is willing to try with her and that is important to her.

"Hey, no problem." He gives her a quiet sort of smile. "I'm gonna get some air, I think." And go hit on a girl whoops. "You need anything? Another beer or something?"

"No, I'm good." She waves him off with her good hand, like shoo, giving him a fond smile. "I'm probably going to head home soon anyway. I'll see you back there."

Before he leaves, he bends to press a brief kiss to her forehead. "Be careful." Which he says literally every time they separate for any amount of time. He's a weirdo but a weirdo she has to love. Deal with it.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she doesn't mind. She never minds.

"Oh, get out, loser."

That's 100% her response every time. Morgan family I love yous.

party post } { drinks are on me

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