Thursday, Sparky Repairs

[heterodine.livejournal.com]

Agatha was assemblign osmethign that looked like a bunch of metal tubes standing upright. It could also have looked liek an organ, if there was a keyboard attached. There are sparks flyignas there is welding happening.

[ooc: store's open]

Jeff, God of Biscuits - Thursday morning

[godinakilt.livejournal.com]

Whistling happily and almost bouncing, Orlin!Camulus stepped into J,GoB and ordered a half dozen banana nut muffins. Upon reflection he made it a dozen. He knew how hungry his body could get, and Orlin had offered his eternal love and devotion for these muffins.

[[For all your J,GoB needs.]]

Cafe Fina, Thursday

[badassbutler.livejournal.com]

For reasons as of yet unknown, Alfred is not present at lunch time for Cafe Fina this morning, allowing Wadsworth to take over. Why was he not there? Was he engaging in a service for Bruce Wayne? Was he looking again the possible lair in the basement? Or was he coming out of retirement briefly to help the British Intelligence Service once again?

The world may never know. All that they did know is that by dinner, he was there to keep an eye on Walter.


_{[[OCD threads coming up! No interaction from Alfred today, because OMGWTFBUSY!]]}

Outside the Kwik Stop, Thursday

[silent-robert.livejournal.com]

Spring is in the air. Meaning Silent Bob is practicing his baseball swing and Jay's practicing rounding the bases.

Take it however you want.

The boys are IN.

Caritas - Open [3/30]

[marsheadtilt.livejournal.com]

Veronica opens the club, still in a good mood from the tea party yesterday, bouncing around to the Zombie Band's rendition of "Whip It".

She is blissfully unaware that her boyfriend is a bunny as she opens the club.


[feeling crappy tonight. if you wanna play with V, let me know. otherwise, mod Tino getting your drinks.]

Galactica Point, Thursday night

[suzotchka.livejournal.com]

Ivanova didn't want people around tonight. She didn't want to be in a bar or pub. She didn't want to be consoled or to brawl. She wanted to get drunk. So here she was, at the beach. Not far from the spot where Tonks had asked her to go with her. She usually went with vodka, but Midnight Hobo was stronger, cheaper, and plentiful. She could pretend that the alcohol was what was burning her throat and bringing tears to her eyes. She could pretend as she looked out over the dark water that nothing was wrong, that everything had gone according to plan, that she hadn't fallen in love.

She could pretend. For a while, anyway.

The Fourth Sin, Thursday evening

[lesssexthanmiho.livejournal.com]

Becky sat behind the desk.

Feet? Propped up.

She was writing something. It could be a list of ways to better eavesdrop on Jarod's conversations with his brunette. Or it could be the next great American novel.

But it's probably the former, since most novels don't have "Ask Miho to teach me how to scale the wall outside his window" as a chapter title.