Board Thread:Off-Topic Discussion/@comment-28743333-20151017150311/@comment-1859034-20151101123430

(Several hours ago) 



The tranquillity of the dimly-lit bedroom was shattered by the piercing screech of a small electronic alarm clock. Groaning at the sudden and uninvited clamour, a red feathered wing reached out from under light cream bedsheets and fumbled with the infernal device. By pure luck, the index finger made contact with the ‘off’ switch.

Margaret slowly pulled herself away from the comfortable bed, yawning and stretching both wings above her head. Her body resisted each move, fighting to return back to the bed for at least a few more hours of much needed sleep. Unfortunately her mind, while still partly foggy, knew there were far more important responsibilities needing to be done. She eventually stood up, discarded her blue pyjamas, and threw on some light clothes to begin the day.

After brushing her beak and checking to make sure her uniform was packed, Margaret slung a black ‘Fist Pump’ brand backpack over her left shoulder. She carefully made her way past the nearby closed bedroom door, attempting not to wake her close friend and housemate. A few days prior, Eileen’s allergies flared up, leaving the poor mole bedridden. And without her around, it would make the following day of work difficult.

Silently locking the front door, she adjusted the speakers on her head, and switched on a small music playing device. The morning temperature was warm, and with the shop a relatively short distance away, made for a perfect walk.

The past few weeks for Margaret had been one roller-coaster ride after another. Upon returning from what, for all intents and purposes, should have been her dream college, the city she knew and loved had changed. Normally change can be viewed as a positive way of life, but for her, this had certainly not turned out for the better. The move to an outer state college proved to be a misstep, and all her friends had moved on with their lives. They still recognised her, nor did she expect everything to be exactly identical, but it had begun to feel as though she didn’t know anyone anymore. Not to mention the whole ordeal with Jackie Carmichael.

It was not all doom and gloom though. She was grateful to still have Eileen as a friend, not to mention her ever supportive parents.

And while the latter pair were understanding and supportive, other problems swiftly arose. For a start, the terms of her internship at Channel 6 meant they were under no obligation to pay her beyond a small allowance for travel and food. It would have been easy to live off her parents’ income, but she desired not to. Margaret had seen (and even contributed to) reports of jobless young adults siphoning from their parents or rorting the benefits systems, and at her age, was desperate not to follow down that path.

With money in short supply, and no other jobs around, Margaret had decided to pick up where she left off and return to the Coffee Shop. It wasn’t exactly the future she had envisioned, but at least she had this opportunity. Shortly before leaving many months ago, the Manager surprisingly contemplated her for the years of hard and diligent work, even going so far to say there would always be a place for her at the shop should her career not work out. It was an offer Margaret initially acknowledged, and once more accepted.

Briskly walking to the sounds of a favourite tune, she turned and peered through the iron bar fence of the Park. It would be easier (and quicker) to make a short cut through the grounds, but given the history between her and the establishment, not to mention its workers, decided against doing so.

She eventually made her way to the Coffee Shop, swiftly unlocking the front door before stepping inside. Her subsequent routine had almost become natural instinct, moving from one task to the next as if like clockwork. Setting up the chairs, clean the coffee filters, double check if there were enough supplies for the day, change into her uniform, every detail thoroughly taken care of within a short period of time.

With a few minutes left to kill, Margaret made a coffee and two slices of buttered raisin toast for herself. It was hardly the breakfast of champions, but time was of the essence. Should it be a slow day, she’d have plenty of time for another slice, or a well-rounded lunch later in the day. However, her experience working at the shop had taught one valuable lesson she later took on board for life in general; expect the unexpected.

There was barely enough time to finish scarfing down the last of her toast before the first customer made their way through the door. He was shortly followed by another. And another. Before she had time to take his order, it seemed as though the whole shop was alive with grumbling customers with bloodshot eyes and a distinct lack of manners. They were eager to get their breakfast and make a beeline for work with little regard for anyone else. Adjusting her expectations, Margaret realised it was going to be an incredibly long day.

The hours slowly rolled on, as did the customers. When each large crowd were content with their meals and were on their way out, an equally massive group replaced them. It wasn’t until after lunch that the flow of people began to slow down, and eventually leave the store empty. Wiping her brow, Margaret sighed and slumped onto a stool, her first chance of sitting down upon arrival. She had almost forgotten how physically demanding her job could be, and if the morning was any indication, the afternoon was going to be just as bad. She had no idea how long this period of quiet serenity would last, but she’d take it. After catching her breath, she stood up, walked into the kitchen, and proceeded to make a simple salad sandwich.

Upon completion, Margaret wistfully took her sandwich and stared out a nearby window, hoping the day would pass a little quicker. It was at this point she began to regret not cutting through the Park, even though it would have meant being late. At the very least, she would have seen a familiar face or two. Someone nice who acknowledged her existence and recognised her beyond being a simple coffee girl with an unfortunately notorious history of relationships.

Maybe Mordecai and Rigby will call in later today. They were always cheerful about something, usually recounting one of their bizarre adventures. She could use a happy story right about now...

<p class="MsoNormal">(I’m not sure if anyone had specific ideas for making the game an alternate reality, but seeing as there’s a reference to ‘Birthday Gift’, I figured at least some episodes still happened. To go along with this, I’ve thrown in a few vague references to Margaret’s history, in particular ‘Local News Legend’. Since players are now able to control two characters, I would eagerly jump at the chance to play as Eileen as well, but will leave it for a few more days in case someone else wants her.)

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