[nick/name] kat
[personal LJ] canyousayhot
[other characters currently played] n/a
[email] kat3446@gmail . com
[AIM / messenger] forgesseames (AIM), forgess (plurk)


( P O L Y C H R O M A T I C )

[ For once, the feed kicks on and Yusuf is ready for it. He's in the lab (otherwise known as, the basement, but he's not exactly picky about these things) and the feed gets a clear view of... well. Not very much. For something that is supposed to be a lab, it's noticeably sparse. This, ladies, gents, and pterodactyls, is the reason for this feed. ]

For those of you that chose to celebrate, I hope your Thanksgiving went well. In the case of anyone who did not celebrate, but would enjoy some delicious left-overs regardless, you should contact Miss Rosella. Believe me, everything she made is phenomenal.

[ But, onto the figurative meat of this network post. Yusuf tilts the feed to show less of him and more of the empty space behind him. ]

As you can tell, we are still in the process of filling things out and settling things in, as it were. Which requires either donation or compensation-- the latter of which I am dubiously low on. [ Which is to say... ]

My question to the city is this: if anyone has spare furniture-- tables, stools, shelving and the like-- would you mind terribly if I took it off your hands? Also, if anyone happens to know of any establishments that are in need of someone with a PhD in Biochemistry, that information would be invaluable as well.



( ooc: Yusuf is looking for a job! Any job really, he didn't technically earn his PhD so putting it to good use is a moot point. We just need some dolla dolla bills!! )

[ Whether Yusuf was quite so protective of Rhada before this dream coming to The City, is debatable. Rhada is quite the intelligent feline, and it doesn't take much more than one trip around the hot, arid streets of Mombasa to find that hand-outs are not common. This might very well be where Yusuf's stray problem stems from.

The point stands: topside, Rhada is smart enough to know not to stray from the Pharmacy's old window ledges and familiar splotches of sunlight. Here, however...

Here, nothing is as it should be. People change with the date and curses hit like 24-hour bugs that the citizens can't sweat out. Whether Yusuf is more afraid of the curses (and how they make people think crazy thoughts, want to do crazy things) or someone finding a well behaved tabby ("stray" is a word that no longer applies to Rhada in Yusuf's mind) and keeping her, is also debatable-- a debate that Yusuf doesn't much want to have, but still.

Which is why the sight of the slightly ajar front door-- just enough for a little fat cat to squeeze through-- has Yusuf's stomach dropping to his toes. ]

No. No-- no! No!

[ Cats and curiosity have a rather volatile history between them, and the temptation of a door left slightly open is invitation enough. Never let it be said that pets don't emulate their owners.  ]

No! No, this is not good!

[ Neither is running out of the flat to find Rhada without first turning the stove off but, well, it slipped his mind. ]



[ ooc: Yusuf is out looking for his cat while Arthur & Eames' apartment is filling with smoke. Someone on floor 9 of building 11 should call the fire department! Someone should call Yusuf! Someone should also get a fainting couch because Yusuf is going to need it when he finds out what he's just done... ]

Wh-

[ Rustling can be heard over the network, like someone rolling around in their sheets despite it being nearly two in the afternoon. After a moment, the sound of an object (Yusuf's alarm clock, as it were) can be heard being picked up and put back down. His curtain is wide open, and yet the sun that usually wakes him up is not out, The City is as darker than Mombasa on a moonless night- at lest they had the stars... ]

The clock must be off- or-

[ A glance at the clock again, where the date reads on the digital face Sat Oct 15. ]

Oh, yes. The weekend, yet again.

I suppose there could be worse occurrences than a curse that tempts one to sleep the day away...

[ Noticing that little light on his device is on- he knows he didn't touch the thing- he picks it up and contemplates apologizing for any naps that he may have interrupted. ]

If this device were a woman, I might actually be flattered.

[ For the next nearly six minutes, Yusuf's device is going to send one of his favorite scenes from Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam over the network! ]




[ The video cuts off to leave Yusuf's smiling face, delighted at the blast from the past. He was only, what, in his early twenties when that came out? When was the last time he watched anything with Aishwarya Rai in it? ]

What do I have to press to see the whole movie!



[ ooc: Yusuf is affected by the Memory Theater curse, but no embarrassing videos for you all! ]

The current influx of, ah, individuals- while not necessarily unusual, is still considered a deviation from status quo, yes? 

[ Muttering about time and the coinciding of the start of the month with this sudden influx-- there is a pause as he considers whether he really wants to make this a public announcement or if he wants to wander The City by himself.

Why not make use of the hundreds of eyes at his disposal? ]

I assume that everyone has their hands full, so I will make this brief. If anyone happens to spy a chubby grey tabby with yellow eyes, or an all white cat with green eyes, would you please contact me?

Much appreciated.



[ ooc: anything goes! Yusuf is cool to just talk about cats tbh ]

[ Everyone knows Yusuf's place. Of course, it isn't actually Yusuf's place, in that the title and deed aren't in his name, nor does the sign above the shop say anything about the confectioneer inside-- but it is essentially Yusuf's place in every other way that matters. When the owner's wife fell sick, Yusuf took over and slowly made the changes that rocketed the ice cream shop to the most hoppin' place on the block.

With it's pink and white interior and gleaming ice cream bar, the shoppe has a constant stream of people coming and going at all times. Yusuf gets all kinds; from kids running in with their nickles to buy glasses of pop that Yusuf sets on the counter like a prize, to teens buying their sweethearts Yusuf's famous knickerbocker glories (a true sign of being completely head over heels), to parents who want to have a taste of Yusuf's latest creation.

He is a bit of a creative genius and if the decor had brought the crowds, Yusuf's ice cream is what keeps them coming back. All of it is made in-house with the freshest ingredients, and oftentimes right in front of you if you come in at the right time! If ice cream doesn't strike your fancy, he also makes a mean malt, a hoppin hot chocolate, and an assortment of cakes and sweets that are sure to knock your socks off!

Just remember he isn't going to let you get away with any funny business in his parlor-- he's talking to you, Greasers and Lady Birds! He knows who you are! This is a place for good clean fun so keep your hands above the table tops and remember-- THE BATHROOMS ARE NOT CO-ED. ]

Bugger.

[ A pause because, oh, yes, that would be the button that turns the blasted thing on. Well... we can only hope that there is a delay between Yusuf's annoyed mouthing off at the little piece of technology and it actually turning on. He's holding it much too close to his mouth and, as such, his voice is unaccountably loud for the calm way he asks, ]

If anyone can hear me, would you be so kind as to let me know?

[ The sound of the device being turned over and over in his hands. Hopefully he won't accidentally click it off... ]

Honestly... this is hardly intuitive...



[ ooc: new, fresh meat, etc. not cursed, just confused! ]

✔   Such a difficult life you live...

✔   We'll have to talk about it.

✔   We'll have to talk about it.

✔   [ Contemplating the photograph of a woman. ]

 

 

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