[For anyone who runs into Casimiro this evening, terribly sorry you might just find him in several situations.

A. During the early evening, it's Casimiro's shift on at the bar. He's not exactly working (surprise), instead he's playing solitaire and pretending to clean a glass every time his boss walks by. He's kind of fed up about catering to ( Read more... )

[Not filtered like a boss. Just another example of Cas' recklessness right here.]

This town's sure goin' to hell isn't it? Good thing I don't care, otherwise I'd have a real mess on my hands.

Well if anyone wants to enjoy a drink while this shit gets real, I'll be at the bar.

[Filtered to Finas]

Hey... uh. Figure maybe we should talk. I gotta head in ( Read more... )

[Wow waking up after dying was way worse than waking up with a hangover. It was like... a psychological hangover. With stiff limbs. Yes, he'd died before, technically, but he'd never actually passed out of existence for any given amount of time. It was a pretty bad trip, to put it lightly. So he's calling the bar, but of course (in his ( Read more... )

That "party" was a complete bust. Not interesting at all, I can't even believe I wasted my time going. [And all the "interesting" stuff that did happen at the party seemed to happen to everyone other than him. What cruel irony.]

By the way. Conrad, how sad we didn't see you! I had somethin' to give you too. [Namely a right hook.] You avoiding us ( Read more... )

[Let's take a walk through Casimiro's day, shall we? Yes let's!

A) It's late morning/early afternoon, and the pub is almost completely empty. Casimiro is "working" behind the bar, playing solitaire, practicing fancy shuffling tricks, and the like. Stop in at your leisure, he might play you a round of poker for a drink. But be careful. He cheats.

B) ( Read more... )

Got a call from some bar sayin' I missed work last night. So I hung up on 'em, but they kept calling back. Guess I got a job now, too. Any other surprises this town gonna spring on me? This place is working my last nerve already...

[There's a female voice in the background, and Casimiro turns his head to yell.]

No. You read them a bedtime story, ( Read more... )

[Fellow residents of Nelson Street may have heard quite a commotion coming from house 1668. Upon waking in a foreign bed with sunlight cast over his face, Casimiro leapt from bed and proceeded to flip the fuck out. Lamps? Knocked over. Furniture? Tripped over. But once he realized his face wasn’t burning off, he seemed to calm down. Until he looked ( Read more... )