if the futures been drawn out then nobody’s living

[Laurel Booth]

Long posts are happy, mm.

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Running his thumb along the edge of the worn hat, he nodded to himself when Nikita started to pick through the cabinets. All good things and things that could be cleaned pretty easily. Find a little glue and the broken things could be patched up okay. Setting the tweed hat on the counter, he silently opened up an upper cabinet with a squeaky joint and pulled the plates stored in it down, not daring to blow the settled dust off of them just yet. That was better saved for doing outside, he had decided. The cobwebs were particularly thick but the occupant of said web looked to be about as long gone as the once inhabitant of the house.



It was when he closed the squeaky cabinet door that Nikita had cackled, exclaiming and revealling her find only moments later; he smiled every bit as broad as she did. Picking his hat back up and setting it back in its rightful place atop his head, Laurel followed after her into the dining room, ducking when the doorframe came back into play. From there, he nitpicked over the dusty bottles, seizing one that was nearly full and wiped the grime from it with his thumb. “Looks like our packrat had quite a nice stash of liquor when he kicked the bucket,” he mused, debating whether or not to get into it now or later. “Judging by some of the labels, this stuff would knock you on your ass pretty fast for as small as you are.”

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