“You can play where you did before? Or do they just get tired of the practice itself? Because, hey, if you ever need space, I’m sure one of these coffee shops or something would like a nice little talent night or something. Sounds cute, right?” Georgie took a sip of the cold coffee and shrugged, “it was a good place to get some reading done. And I like people watching so,” she nodded at the window vantage point she had, “figured I could have some coffee and do all three. I won’t give away your seat if you want to grab a coffee, by the way.”

“Gatineau,” Adelynn responded, quite excited to meet a fellow Quebecker. Her eyes returned to the scene, scanning the crowd for the examiner. “If you wanted a word with him,” she nodded towards the man, “I can help you but you’re going to have to tell me what for.” This town was small so everyone who worked at the police station knew exactly who she was. She was the one that was often nagging or helping the police get their warrants and law straight. 

“We probably passed each other in some store back home and didn’t even know it.” She grinned, already feeling familiar with the stranger due to the shared language and area. She wasn’t reminded often of how much she missed home, but in talking to the stranger, she recognized the familiar ache. “I work for the funeral home. Embalming, mostly. I just wanted to see the body before it comes to me.” She explained, though she leaned closer to the stranger and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I have a hunch the coroner does some covering up before the body is passed on to me, but it’s just a hunch. So I’m only here out of curiosity.” Returning her volume to a normal level, she asked the woman, “What about you?”

“i would hope it’s convincing,” considering it was the real thing. the jabs at his attire was unavoidable and did little to settle his nerves. but he did appreciate the dark humor to it all. he cracked a smile (tiny and genuine) before it faded away like his hopes for a peaceful evening. “this town is far too small for houses to be broken into– we’re doing well enough with nightly attacks and the occasional murder to not add breaking and entering, to the list.” he made light, but ashbourne never ceased to keep him on his toes, that much was certain. 

“Well, then maybe start bringing candy to interrogations? Maybe the sugar would soften them up a bit.” She suggested sarcastically, but she was running out of things to do with her joke. She abandoned it entirely. “I know it sucks for you to work tonight, but it is kind of interesting, for me at least, to see you all work before it reaches me.” She said, though looking at his face, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been asked to leave a crime scene by this particular cop before. “At the morgue.” She added a second later for good measure.

Vera was clinging to the bar as if it were her lifeline. The crowd moved like a multi-headed beast that shared only one brain. Their thoughts were in lock-step as much as their feet. It was interesting to watch this brilliant mess of humanity. But only for a moment. It was fun to witness, but that didn’t take away from the fact that the place was quickly becoming very overcrowded. Even at the bar where there were fewer people and Vera had shoulder room, there are still hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the rock music that dominates the atmosphere. Not even finishing off what was in her glass, Vera slips off of her bar stool.  

The blonde stops abrubtly as she notices from the corner of her eye someone moving closer to her. A hand goes inside of her clutch to grab an object if she needed to defend herself, but as her eyes landed on a soft face, Vera stopped herself, though the tension in her shoulders didn’t retreat. Her initial response is, “Sorry, I only dance to ‘Jingle Bells’,” though because of the dry tone she used and assuming the woman was already drunk, she quickly covers up her words figuring her humour would go over the strangers head. “I’m heading out.” Vera tells the other, chewing at the bottom corner of her lip.

“I could sing the entirety of Jingle Bells for you, if that sweetens the deal.” Ruby interjected with eyebrows raised. She didn’t feel tied to staying at the party, and while it was fun, she definitely wouldn’t say no to adventure elsewhere, so when the other woman stated that she was leaving, Ruby jumped on the opportunity. She hoped that the blonde wouldn’t mind her doing so.

“I dunno…” Danielle murmured, finally tearing her gaze away to look at the girl beside her. Pretty girl, dark hair, eyes glassy from alcohol. She smiled, shrugging her shoulders before reaching out to lay her hand on the other woman’s upper arm lightly, “Got much upper body strength? I swear those ladies could hold themselves up there for hours…”

She laughed as the other woman placed her hand on Ruby’s arm, and shook her head, “I’m sure you can tell, I do not.” She grinned and looked back up at the dancers for a moment before adding, “They’re incredible, I want their work out schemes and their phone numbers. I don’t think I could do it nearly as long as they do, but maybe five seconds or so. You can do anything for five seconds.”

Georgie looked up from the book she’d been paging through absentmindedly when the other woman sat across from her. Smiling at the other’s disposition which was rather infectious, the Original nodded, “That’s what they say anyway– Ruby, right?” She grinned, “oh well, likewise, and that singing was great– gonna put on another show sometime soon? Or just stopping by for some coffee in which case, welcome, mine is cold or I’d offer; no offense but you look like you need some.”

Adelynn was surprised to have someone respond, in French nevertheless, and she immediately turned her head see who it was. “No, I don’t. It’s just a shame this stuff happens all the time,” she stated, continuing their conversation in French. “I work on these cases after the police are done with them.” She had been rather surprised by the amount of people she’s met in Ashbourne who actually knew her mother tongue. French was a dying language in Canada and many people didn’t care to know it. “Are you from around here?” she asked, curious to know more about the girl. 

“I do too.” She said with a small smile, like she was admitting a secret. “You’re here trying to get information before the examiner too, then?” She looked at the other woman, wondering what her job could be, knowing that the jobs that were involved in crime scenes were usually unpleasant. “Nah,” She answered, shaking her head. “I’m from Québec City, what about you?”