JAN 1, 2019 - SORRY WE WERE CLOSED FOR 2 MONTHS - SOME BAD CODE AND THEN HECTIC HOLIDAY LIFE HAPPENED. WE ARE THRILLED TO FLICK THE LIGHTS BACK ON AND COLLABORATE AGAIN! LOOK FOR SOME ADDITIONAL CHANGES/UPDATES COMING TO THE SITE SOON!! ~ZEPH
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January 2nd 5pm Hammer's Firearms Brow furled, tossing the shard of broken glass onto the floor with all the rest. Nobody could leave anything the hell alone anymore. ‘course, this could even be vindictiveness for disappearing on a dime from the mob, but he doubted it. Hands went to his hips as he surveyed his dusty shop, or what was left of it. He’d pulled all his inventory and left the empty shop with just cabinets and shelves, but even that had been smashed to hell. Who would feel the need to smash an old General Store style display cabinet? Bastards. Hiking boots crunched against glass and debris as his toe scuffed certain places, kneeling down and reaching through the grime, the pull rings still in place and undisturbed. They suddenly snapped up from the floor, the garage door opener type signal he blinked through his brain opening the lock on one. Pulling it upward, the floor storage with all his inventory was intact. Dropping the door back down, he locked it back up and kicked debris back over it. It would take him a couple days to clean, a couple days to stock, then reappear suddenly open like a phoenix. Damn he hoped there was no bad blood. Welcome “home”. Laissez and all that... Upstairs apartment was unscathed. Dusty, but unscathed. Hiker’s backpack tossed on the couch, he rubbed his scruff and started rummaging through the survival pack. Been gone a while, Nola still a giant lake with his angels barely peeking out. A few trinkets he was able to scavenge, but nothing in the grand scheme of things. Made for a melancholy return. Shower. Shave. Food. It’d occurred to him that the place was being watched. It’s not like he could hide the banged up 4x4 that was parked behind the shop by the loading dock. His real home was being house-sat by an adorable newlywed couple and he hadn’t been there yet so not likely a tip-off there. But… he’d been back in town long enough to hear Order bullshit. Same old, same old, with a bit more flair. Water creaked on, and he let it run in the stand alone clawfoot tub. Sputtering, somewhat iron orange for several moments, heating up eventually after he relit the water heater. Clothing was shed and he stepped in, yanking the curtain. Time to return to the land of the living.