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[stand_unshaken]

 

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[questionsonly]

[ There's a knock on the custodial closet door not five minutes later. ]

[stand_unshaken]

"It's open," he calls out.

It's more than a little cramped in there. Some things got shuffled around between custodial and maintenance somewhere in the switch, and Arthur is a big man. He looks like he couldn't turn around without bumping into something.

"Hey, uh-- shit, goddamn, they didn't design this for human beings."

[questionsonly]

The door will open, or open a little wider, and Kepler sticks his head in.

"Well. Not for anyone with shoulders like yours. Or mine. Probably best I... stay right here."

A pause before he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a little napkin-wrapped bundle.

"Cookie?"

Look. Blood sugar is a concern for the overworked.

[stand_unshaken]

"Huh."

He takes it without really thinking about it. Food is food, and you'd best stock up while you can.

"Man of many talents, ain't you?"

[questionsonly]

"So I've been told," he says cheerfully enough, but that's not what he's here for. Which is why he tilts his head towards the hallway. "What can I do for you?"

[stand_unshaken]

He tucks the cookie into a breast pocket, and steps one more step into the closet.

"Start big, I figure. Debris, put things where they ought to be goin'. Then we can see about fixin' things, cleaning things. I got- gloves over here, I'm pretty sure."

He fishes his ring of keys out of a different pocket, and unlocks the cabinet- only to stop short.

"...huh. Now that don't look like no gloves to me."

[questionsonly]

He's going to lean a little so that he can see what isn't 'gloves' because he's very very curious.

[stand_unshaken]

What isn't gloves is about two dozen bottles of clearly home-brewed booze. He's got one forearm braced against the closet and has stepped aside to let Warren see.

"How 'bout that?"

[questionsonly]

That gets a bit of eye widening.

"Well."

He's very curious about that. Both who put it there, who's making it, and whether the quality of the hooch is anything to shake a stick at.

"How about that indeed."

[stand_unshaken]

He runs a hand over his beard and shakes his head. "Stupid place to hide hooch. Don't know about it, either?"

[questionsonly]

He shakes his head.

"We were planning on brewing some moonshine in a spare room. Didn't figure there was much reason to hide it, after all. But this-"

[stand_unshaken]

"Ain't yours," he fills in. Sure.

"Well, I'll leave it here for now. But this place is gonna get a better lock, that's a sure thing."

[questionsonly]

"Probably for the best, given the caustic chemicals inside," he says cheerfully. "Now. Shall we find the gloves?"

[stand_unshaken]

They weren't really hidden anywhere. He picks them up easily, and tosses them at him.

"There you go."

[questionsonly]

"Thank you, muchly," and his good mood maintains. "And I think I'll take that queue to get working. Let me know if you need anything..."

He'll waggle his communicator.

[stand_unshaken]

"I'll know where to find you," he agrees, before straightening up.

"Thank you, partner."

[questionsonly]

"More than welcome."

And then he's out and going.