ANY ideas?, OPEN

[George Edmund]

The thing people really didn’t understand was that being a Mayor of a small town was different then being a Mayor of a larger town, or city. People usually expect them to not really be out and about all that much, unless they lived in a small town. George would be the first to admit that there wasn’t much to do, for anyone, kids seemed fine running around at parks, most of the teenagers seemed ok with sitting around in there little hang outs complaining about nothing to do. And the adults worked, and if they didn’t work they walked around and acted like they were doing something important.

George usually didn’t have to act all that much since when people saw him they just assumed he was doing something important. Really he wasn’t. Not at the moment at least. He was just walking around figuring out what to do. It wasn’t always that he had time to himself. Usually he was busy doing something Mayoral or doing something at home with his wife and kids. But there was nothing for him to do. At the moment at least. At the moment he was on his free time and trying to figure out what to do.

He had been stopped a few times already to talk to people, mostly people he knew since he did pretty much know everyone in the town. But that was all he was doing. Pretending to be doing something. He turned the corner and opened the door to the diner walking in and looking around for a table to sit down in. There were so many open, which did make sense, because it was only 10:00 in the morning. Most people would be coming in a little later. Mostly the only people in there were the ones that had no jobs, and no school since it hadn’t began yet, the kids/teens. Which he was totally ok with. He really liked most of the kids in the town.

And he believed he had a good reprieve with them. They knew his kids, and as far as he knew his kids were good kids. They made mistakes, but everyone did. He pulled out the menu and read it over a few times wondering if he should get what he usually got. A club sandwich with fries. Or maybe something else. He could just order something way out in left field. Which, really maybe he should. It wasn’t exactly lunch time... Maybe he should just order ice cream or something of that sort. But then if he did run into his kids, which was totally possible they would whine about him not getting them any...

But they weren’t around at the moment. But he didn’t feel like ice cream. At 10:00 in the morning? No. He wasn’t exactly hungry though. He had just come in here to give himself something to do. But if he knew his job like he knew he did then once he stepped back into his office he would be swamped and not have time to eat lunch at all. And then he’d be crabby-ish by the time he got him and that wasn’t good. So eating lunch it was... Great. At least he figured that out... now to think of what he wanted to eat.

[Grace Burch]

Grace did not enjoy doing the morning shift at the Diner. She loved her job, but she did not by any means love having to wake up at five in the morning to be there for when the doors opened at six for breakfast. Grace was one of those people who didn't like waking up before noon during the summer. And yet, she'd dragged her butt out of the house (trying desperately not to wake her mother) and to the Diner, yawning all the way and nearly walking into a light pole due to the fact that she really, honestly wasn't paying attention to where the hell she was going. But she'd made it there, in her uniform, gulping down half a pitcher of coffee in her endless quest for awakeness. Yes. Awakeness. No matter that it wasn't actually a word - she could do whatever she wanted, if she so chose, and that included making up words. Thank you very much. But that wasn't the point. After gulping so much caffeine, Grace was cheerful, ready to grin happily (and slightly maniacally) at the sleepy-looking workers who shuffled in, looking slightly disconcerted by the fact that a teenager notorious for not liking mornings was smiling and cheerful. Evidently, they had not yet realized the immense power that caffeine had over Grace's body.

One thing about having the morning shift, however, was that it meant that ten in the morning actually seemed pretty late. And yet, not late enough - Grace didn't get off work until eleven. And another thing that was good about the morning? There was little to no people who came, besides those who had to get to work early, which meant that Grace could sit at the counter in front of the kitchen most of the time, sipping coffee or eating. Which was always nice, especially since Grace enjoyed eating quite a bit. It was very nice, even if she knew that the second her hyped-up metabolism slowed down she would quickly become enormous from her diet. But, no matter. She lived in the present - no use worrying about the future if it wasn't here yet.

Eating, in fact, was exactly what she was doing when her uncle (who also happened to be the mayor) walked in. The thing was that she didn't really notice, because the ringer over the door that was supposed to go off when someone came in was broken, and she was in a heated argument with the cook as to whether whole wheat or white bread was better (she was holding out strongly for white, but he was insisting that whole wheat was not only better for you, but tasted better as well). Normally she would've hopped down from her stool she was sitting on, dropped her fork, picked up her pad, and taken his order, but she didn't notice him come in. "White bread is just better!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand down on the counter to make a point. "You don't get the gross little grains stuck in your teeth, and you don't get that weird little aftertaste." It wasn't exactly a debate about western philosophy, to be sure, but it was exactly the kind of argument Grace had when she was bored stupid. The cook rolled her eyes, then glanced over the redhead's shoulder and commented that she had a customer waiting.

Grace's eyes widened and she spun around, eyes immediately landing on the thing that was not the same since the last time she looked - her uncle, George Edmund, was sitting at a window booth. "Oops." she said softly, hoping dearly he hadn't been waiting long as she took a last bite of the piece of toast on her plate, getting off the stool and grabbing her notebook. She walked over to him, smiling cheerily. She liked her uncle, really, she did. He was only her uncle by marriage, but he was much more laid-back than all the 'authority figures' she knew, which was always nice. He certainly wasn't as neurotic as her mother, which was fantastic. So she was genuinely happy to see him - more than most could say when they laid eyes on their forty-year-old uncle.

"Hi, Uncle George." she said brightly, tucking a loose, curly piece of hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. "What can I get you this morning? You want the lunch specials or the breakfast ones?" She wasn't really sure what he wanted - it could depend on anything, really. For instance, if it had been a normal day for her, she would've ordered breakfast, since she probably would've just woken up. But seeing as he was the mayor and all, maybe he'd been up since five like her. It was all very confusing, really. Too much for her to try to figure it out by herself. Questions were good, very good.

They kept poor Grace from getting too incredibly confused, after all.


ooc; ewww. crap post. sorry. D:

[George Edmund]

George looked around as he heard a voice and smiled up at his niece. He hadn’t been fortunate enough to have any brothers or sisters. But his wife had two sisters, Chance and Mica. And this meant he had 4 nieces and nephews. He liked them all of course and who was he to say who was going where. He wasn’t a talent agent or anything, but he really did think that Grace, wasn’t going to stay in Limestone very long. He had a good idea about people living in Limestone. The ones who liked it and like the familiarity of it, and the ones who hated not really having any chances. And his niece was one of that latter.

He on the other hand liked living in Limestone, which made since, because why else would he want to be the Mayor. He knew this place wasn’t the best to live at the moment so he was trying his best to make it better. He thought he was doing a good job as of late. No one had died lately from unnatural causes, that was for sure, so as far as he knew he was going wonderfully. But he had just started being Mayor not to long ago. As far as he could tell he was going in the right direction. And who was to tell him any differently.

Focusing back on Grace rethinking what she had asked him a couple seconds ago. If he wanted lunch or breakfast. Well he hadn’t thought about breakfast at all. Well crap. He sighed and looked down at the menu without really reading anything on it. “What are all the specials?” He asked looking back up at the red head blinking. He was the Mayor. He should be able to make stupid choices like what to eat and stupid stuff like that. Shouldn’t he? Yes, he should, but then there he was he had no idea what he wanted. Probably because he didn’t exactly want anything. He just needed something to do. Wondering around the town probably would be an even odder thing to do.

“If nothing appeals to me then I’ll just get a club sandwich.” He said and shook his head smiling slightly. George leaned back in his chair and closed the menu holding it up for Grace to take. He had always had a problem with choosing things to eat though, ever since he was little. He didn’t think it was a decisive problem, more he never had any idea what he wanted at the time. So that was ok. He just had to go with his gut apparently. And that was why whenever him and his family went on vacation and they went into a restaurant they had never been in before he usually got the same thing that someone else got. A lot easier that way. Though sometimes they did get annoyed of that. But whatever, he could do whatever he wanted to.

George looked around the diner for a moment then back to Grace, “You seem rather busy.” He said sarcastically. Busy like he was at the moment. Glancing down at his watch for a second he shrugged his shoulders. “You get of work soon don’t you?” He asked curiously. He just figured she did. It would make since. They couldn’t make teenagers work all day, as far as he knew at least. And he just figured he had a good idea. Though then again he wasn’t sure when she even got in to work, so who knew. He never worked when he was a teenager so he didn’t actually have any experience with that...

[Grace Burch]

Grace smiled sympathetically at her uncle, letting her hand that wasn't holding the pad fall to the pocket of her black apron, pulling out the half-dilapidated pen that she had chewed into the realm of disgusting. Whatever, none of the customers cared. The Diner wasn't exactly a ridiculously expensive French bistro like she'd been to once while she was dating a ridiculously rich college student from the next town over. People cared that the utensils, the table, and the food was clean. Everything else? Nope. What difference did it make if the waitress was using an old pen she'd stolen from her freshman Algebra teacher rather than a fountain pen? None. It still got them food, so Grace still used the pen, chewing it when she was bored. Disgusting, yes, but everyone has their little disgusting habit.

She was startled out of her reverie at the sound of her uncle's voice, blue eyes shooting up from where they were focused on her scuffed black flats, blinking rapidly until what he'd said had fully entered her brain. "Specials. Right." she muttered, flipping through the pad to where she'd noted down the specials (no use trying to memorize them, she'd undoubtedly tell someone that the special was an omelet with tomatoes rather than potatoes). Aha! They were there, in her barely legible handwriting, spiky across the page. "For breakfast, we have: two Belgian Waffles with strawberries and maple syrup, a short stack with brown sugar and peaches, or three pieces of French toast with eggs and Canadian sausage." She flipped to the next page, frowning at the first word on the page, some symbol that was basically a line with a couple bips. "Er... for lunch, we have... oh! A roast beef sandwich with lettuce, parmesan chips, and Caesar salad dressing, fajitas with black beans and rice, or a burrito with beef, sour cream, lettuce, tomato, beans, and cucumbers."

When she was done, she looked back up at her uncle, face inquiring. And now, for the moment of truth - what would he take? It was a hard decision, after all. Everything sounded good - he would undoubtedly angst over it for hours, weighing pros and cons, leaving her standing there. It was a very important decision; the fate of his hunger undoubtedly rested in the balance. It was a choice between good and evil and boring - breakfast specials, lunch specials, or just a plain old club sandwich. Really, it made her head hurt just to think about it... She snickered at herself, her lips curving up into a little half-smile that told anyone who knew her well that she was being sarcastic at herself. Something she did quite often, actually. It was like talking to yourself, but infinitely more fun, because you were being snarky and cynical without actually insulting anyone. A win-win situation, really.

Her eyes flickered to her uncle at the sound of his own sarcastic tone, turning around exaggeratedly to peer at the other customers, a grand total of two, one a kid in his mid-20's who had ordered coffee and promptly fallen asleep, the other a regular fixture of the Diner, Mr. James, who spent hours there, sipping coffee and reminiscing with the owner of the Diner about World War II. "Yeah, I took the morning shift, so I get off at eleven. Almost there!" she decided cheerfully, loud enough that Mr. James glanced over at her, curiously, before turning back to the counter. "I mean, I could technically work all day, since I'm past sixteen, but you know what? I don't feel like it. And I'm not that strapped for cash." She gave a small laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear again. There was always that one strand that refused to cooperate...

She computed that it had been enough time since she'd told him the specials, and pulled the cap off her pen, flipping to a new page on her pad. "So, what can I get you?"

[George Edmund]

George smiled as Grace read off the breakfast specials and shook his head. He wasn’t a big breakfast person, especially all that sweet stuff they served, he didn’t like maple syrup, never really had. Pancakes were good once in a while but he never had it with anything special. Usually nothing at all. His kids didn’t understand how he could do that but that was just him. Laughing slightly when it seemed she couldn’t’ read what was written down. He had those moments. He didn’t have very nice handwriting that was pretty much not a secret in the least. So maybe one of those things. All he knew was nothing that was breakfast-ish. Apparently his gut instinct had been right. He knew it was. Though the Lunch things didn’t sound all that bad.

He thought about it for a few moments though at the back of his mind when she answered his question. “I never worked as a teenager.” George said shrugging his shoulders. He didn’t have to for one thing. But another was that he was more into school. Even though it was summer, he couldn’t really remember what he did during the summers. Hung out with Rich probably. He wasn’t a very interesting person that was for sure. But no one ever accused him of being interesting. Though he didn’t think he was boring... who would want a boring mayor? No one. Of course there were some things that no one knew about him that could be considered interesting. But those things were best never talked about for the sake of everyone in the town. But he wasn’t sure how long he could go without fessing up to things. They would all have to see, wouldn’t they?

“I think it’s good that you’re not working all day.” He said as he nodded his head coming to his own silent conclusion. It was good for kids/teens to have free time with their friends. It was good for everyone. But adults had more responsibilities. Grace was only 17; at least she had a job. Not everyone did. “Child Labor laws are there for reasons...” he said faintly.

Letting out a sigh as she asked what she could get him he shrugged his shoulders. “I guess just a club sandwich.” He said a note of finality in his voice. At least he had the skills to sound definite even if he actually wasn’t. Maybe that was why people had confidence in him. Even though he wasn’t sure in his decisions he still made them, he went with his instincts, but he was the type of person to second guess himself so he was never actually sure in what he did. But when you were Mayor people had to actually think you knew what you were doing. Even if you had no clue. But he was just starting out. This was a job he really hoped would get easier with time. But you never knew. He wasn’t on good terms with the past mayor so he really couldn’t ask him. Besides when he was put out of office he kind of left the town. Which really didn’t surprise George any but that wasn’t the point.

“Yes...” He said slowly. “Just a club sandwich.” George smiled and leaned back in his chair nodding his head. That sounded pretty good at the moment. Looking down at his watch he mentally shrugged his shoulders. It was almost lunch time for most people anyway, so at least he wasn’t totally ahead of schedule. Not that being ahead was a bad thing totally... Sometimes it was good. And sometimes, such as this moment, it really didn’t matter. He was just over thinking things... again.

[Alison Crawford]

Alison Crawford walked happily into the quaint little diner. She was anxious, because this was her first day here. She didn't know the drift, or really who to talk to or who to ask things. But she knew how to be a waitress, and she knew how to smile and be pretty, so this should be easy... She looked around. Customer, cook... Ah. The mayor of Limestone. And... a waitress!! If she couldn't get any information from the female, then she would ask the cook. Then, someone else.. She hadn't thought over that far.

Ali walked straight over to Grace and George without hesitating. "Hi!" Her shiny pink lip gloss made her smile seem even more convincing. 0-o. "I'm the new waitress, and-" She then realized that the mayor was in the middle of having his order taking. "Sorry!" she stepped to the side, fiddling with her black and white, polka-dotted fingernail polish. It hadn't come like that, of course, you idiots! Again, 0-o.

While Alison was waiting for Grace and George to get done, she thought about her outfit. She did this sometimes, and knew that it wasn't natural. She spent way too much time on her clothes, and not enough on homework. But she had been working on that as of recently, and was getting kind of better. She did look good though...

A white, lacy shirt with black polka-dots started her outfit out. A black skirt was tighter on her bottom, and flailed out at the bottom, so when she twirled, it spred out gracefully. Little black flats, or as she called them, "hoofs", covered her feet, with the same toenail polish. White heart earrings were in her ears, and the pink lip gloss threw everything off course, just the way she liked it. Everything perfect and in order, and then a nice guy comes and turns into an evil robot and kills everyone slowly. The mind works in mysterious ways...

Alison sat down in a chai silently, trying not to plop down in it like she usually did. She wanted to seem smart and sophisticated, not sloppy and.. well, just plain sloppy! So she smoothed down her skirt, and placed her hands in her lap, thinking of boys and dogs and the movie where giant spiders wear women's dresses and kill men. She liked that movie...

[Grace Burch]

"You're being boring." Grace informed her uncle bluntly, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips as she jotted down the order, her writing nearly illegible. Some would think she was vaguely illiterate, considering the fact that she spelled 'club sandwich' as 'clb sndwc', but everyone knows that it's pointless to actually write stuff down when you're a waitress. The cook knew what she meant, and it wasn't like she was in school. Spelling didn't count at all, in the food service industry. Something Grace was eternally grateful for, considering the fact that she was a crappy speller to start with. The thought made her smile as she put in the order and walked back to her uncle, plopping down across from him and setting her head on her knuckles. A soft smile lit her face, indicating that the older man was forgiven for not being up to Grace's level at which she considered someone 'interesting'. She didn't want her Uncle George mad at her, because she wanted to talk to him. About school, about life... George was her go-to person for mature advice. Someone to listen to her while she was ranting was Tiffany - but when she wanted advice, it was straight to Uncle George.

She gave a small sigh. "I'm gonna be a senior this year." she began. (Thank you, Captain Obvious, she told herself in her mind). "And you know that I want to get out of Limestone the second I graduate, right? But I'm not really sure how I'm going to find the money to like, get a plane ticket, find an apartment, and all once I get to LA or New York." Her eyes flickered up to his face, gaging his reaction, before she continued. "I know you're going to tell me to lend some money from someone, but I want to be free, you know? Not have to owe anything to anyone. But I don't know how I'm going to get that much money between now and the end of the school year." And it was true. She definitely wasn't going to ask her mom for a loan, because that meant she was going to owe her mother something. And taking a loan from the bank scared her. She'd heard too many stories about people's stuff being seized because they couldn't pay the bank back. "I mean, I have a lot of money saved up, from working here, but -" she was interrupted by a bright, sparkly voice over her right shoulder. She knew that voice. Turning towards it, her eyes quickly appraised the short girl in front of her.

She cast an apologetic glance at her uncle, before getting to her feet. She didn't miss (with a grimace on her part) the fact that she towered a good nine inches over their new employee. Oh, the horrors of being tall. "Hey, Alison." she said, perhaps not as brightly, glancing up and down at her outfit. "Did Mr. Harold not tell you the uniform?" she asked, motioning to her own attire of black pants and a black button down shirt. She wouldn't be surprised if he had forgotten - the old man didn't have as great a memory as he'd once had. But he did like order (he'd been in the army), and liked all his servants (as the employees referred to themselves as) to be, well, uniform. Boring, but, eh, it was a good job.

[Alison Crawford]

Alison looked up, and smiled. "Hey, Grace! Hi, Mayor!" She didn't call him George, or Mr. Edmund, but simply Mayor. She soaked in Grace's words like a sponge, then blushed lightly. "Oh, my bad!" Sh elooked down at her clothes. Stylish, but not fit for a diner, she guessed. "Nope, never told me. Not once." She thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you think he has an extra uniform?"

Ali saw some more cutomers come in, and bounced a bit. "Ooh, customers! You think I can take 'em? Or do I have to do something more unfun first?!" Even this sounded exciting to her, and she sort of silently giggled. Yes, ALison was a happy person, rarely angry at even the meanest person.

Alison hopped off of the chair nimbly, but stayed near Grace. She didn't really know if she should go to the customers like this, or get a uniform before. She hummed a little tune from Cats, one of her favorite musicals. She loved the play, or musical, and would do anything to watch it.. Yeah. Okay.

Alison weighed the pros and cons, then raced to the customers and started asking their orders. Or what they wanted to drink, she wasn't stupid. At least not completely...

Ooc;
ALison: I'm not dumb!

[George Edmund]

George sighed and nodded his head. “Well, to be fair I'm a pretty boring guy Grace.” He said and shrugged his shoulders. It was true to some extent. The extent of him ordering the same thing every time. He was a creature of habit which he was fully aware of. And it kind of did make him more reliable so perhaps that was why people liked him as Mayor. He was boring. Or well... “reliable” but at least he wasn’t as bad as some other people. He was kind of the middle between him Richard and Morgan. Richard was the dull one, again not in everything but that wasn’t the point. And Morgan was the least boring person on earth. He was the one that pulled them both in to the middle. Which was why they all worked so well together. That was lovely.

He nodded his head as Grace started to explain that this being her last year she wanted to get out as fast as she could. Which was understandable. He did, though he liked Limestone and he came back. George opened his mouth to say that he could lend her the money but shut it again as she said she didn’t want to do that. He stayed silent for a moment and nodded his head. “Fundraiser?” He said faintly. It was a good idea but he wasn’t sure how many of the older residence in Limestone would go for that. “Not just for you but like... whoever else wants to get out. I'm sure there are a lot of you seniors graduating. But you could like plan it...” He shook his head slightly. But again he wasn’t sure how well that would work. But he was sure there were a lot of adults in the town that wanted them all out.

He looked around as Grace started to say that she had saved some money but was then interrupted. He blinked at the girl for a moment and nodded and smiled slightly as Grace excused herself. George waved at the girl as she greeted him and sat back floating back into his own mind as he stared down at the silver wear on the table blankly. Most obviously not mentally present. Which, he really did quite a lot when he was in his own office doing something boring that he didn’t want to do. And he had to do a lot of boring stuff as mayor but you had to take the good with the bad. The responsibilities with the fun times. The public eye with... whatever was the opposite of that and made since. Which of course made him think of his problem with Richard. And that snapped him back to reality.

As Allison seemed to sort of move a bit away from Grace he looked back at her. “Also Did I say I wanted a Dr. Pepper?” He asked and smiled at Grace.

[Alison Crawford]

After getting the orders, she whispered them to the cook, and then rushed inside the litte employees' room, where only they could go. There was the boss, the big guy. She quickly explained things, then grabbed a uniform before he could say anything. She rushed out of the bathroom soon after that, to where Grace and George stood and.. sat. "Sorry!" she apologized breathlessly, smiling in an embarassed-yet-nervous-with-a-little-bit-of-anxiousness way. That was a lot of facial expression to live up to..

Alison smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I got the hang of this!" She knew what to wear, what to say and do, and now, what to do in between orders... She pickedat her nails for awhile, then looked up. "What do we do inbetween orders? When there's no one around? Just.. chill?" Alison hated this expression usually because she could never do it. She had A.D.D. probably, Restless Leg Syndrome, not to mention anything else to do with now being able to sit still and be a good person. Well, actually, she had none of that stuff.. She just couldn't.. chill. She had to be doing something. There. It was a simple as that...

Ali felt so excited she could burst/ She could see the grossest picture and still be able to walk on clouds.. Why?Because, truth be told, she was.. a hypermonkey.

Ooc;
Mey: Don't deny it, Ali. You knew you would be told it sooner or later.
Alison: -shakes head sadly-