"Soprano" had not technically been ordered to be here. The last point of contact with the boss had been a glum request that they bring him takeout and wine, and that had been almost a week ago. He hadn't been in the theater all morning, either, and the police blotter didn't indicate he'd been picked up by the cops again. In theory she could have slept in and no one would have noticed.
Still, it was Thursday. The living area got cleaned on Thursdays because nothing interesting happened on Thursdays, and it was her turn on the roster. Besides, rent was coming due and Meister never cared if you took a bit of your salary early. Especially if you took it from the bottom of the cash pile and replaced it with paper to make it look like it was still the same height. She was sweeping the stage in her boss-mandated casual wear shirt when Ragdoll called out to her.
"Hey!" She hefted the broom like a spear and stomped over to the edge of the stage. "You're not allowed to be in here. Private property, fuck off." Fuckin' hobos always trying to come in here while the boss was gone. She should have locked the door.
But even for a hobo the guy was funny looking. Scars all over his face, limbs thin and floppy...the weirder a person was, the more likely it was that they were a friend of the Meister. "Unless you're looking for someone," she added.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-05-22 06:52 pm (UTC)Still, it was Thursday. The living area got cleaned on Thursdays because nothing interesting happened on Thursdays, and it was her turn on the roster. Besides, rent was coming due and Meister never cared if you took a bit of your salary early. Especially if you took it from the bottom of the cash pile and replaced it with paper to make it look like it was still the same height. She was sweeping the stage in her boss-mandated casual wear shirt when Ragdoll called out to her.
"Hey!" She hefted the broom like a spear and stomped over to the edge of the stage. "You're not allowed to be in here. Private property, fuck off." Fuckin' hobos always trying to come in here while the boss was gone. She should have locked the door.
But even for a hobo the guy was funny looking. Scars all over his face, limbs thin and floppy...the weirder a person was, the more likely it was that they were a friend of the Meister. "Unless you're looking for someone," she added.