Imperial Junkyard, Thursday morning

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

For a change, Walter was only there for a workout and not violence therapy. He'd found another part of the junkyard that looked like it could use some clearing and was starting some wire practice.

His ribs complained at first, but once he was warmed up, he didn't notice, lost in a dance of precise destruction that was as close to meditation as he was likely to ever get.

[ooc: Open, but the sounds of falling metal and whipping wire would hopefully alert your character to walk cautiously before walking in where Walter's "working." I don't want him to cut any precious bits off of anyone.]

Luke's Diner, Thursday

[dude-its-jude.livejournal.com]

Jude clattered through the front door of Luke's, skateboard still firmly attached to his feet as he zoomed behind the counter, shaking off the water droplets clinging to his tuque. First rain, now having to work . . . making up with Setsuna had given him a lot of extra energy, and now that he knew his flight was the day after tomorrow, the need to skate his legs off was overwhelming.

But still, he was at work, so he was in no way popping wheelies behind the counter. Nope.

Empire Records and Bidet: [8/31]

[multi-madrox.livejournal.com]

Jamie opens up Empire Records once again.

Yes, the country music is still playing.

Yes, he's still wearing the suit.

Shut up.

The Park, Thursday

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

After a quick stop at the Perk for scones, Aziraphale made his way to his favorite spot in the park -- a bench next to the pond. He settled onto it with an audible sigh, thermos of tea and paper sack of scones next to him, and thought about how nice it was to be back.

Pulling a scone from the bag, he proceeded to crumble it into pieces for the ducks. Just like old times.

[ooc: Phale is totally interruptable, or feel free to use for all your park needs! Mun might drop in and out of SP through the day.]

All and Sundries

[courtincalamity.livejournal.com]

Is here today.

Oops.

Wine, Wenches 'n Song [4-6pm FDT]

[likeguidelines.livejournal.com]

At 4 o'clock...ish a familiar voice boomed through the radios around town.

"It be Thursday," it said, "which be makin' me Barbossa 'n this Wine, Wenches 'n Song, the time o' the week where I be playin' yer requests that be not Jessica Simpson 'n helpin' ye wit' yer love lives."

He spun in his chair. "Thar be seemin' t' be an excessive amount o' whinin', cryin' 'n carryin' on this week. I be thinkin' I be addin' t' it. Here be the saddest song I be knowin', 'In Heaven, Thar Be No Beer.' The lines be open. Bother me."

He flipped the song on and waited for callers.

The Perk, afternoon

[bookyeve.livejournal.com]

Evie headed over to the Perk shortly after noon, and ordered an espresso because there was no one to stop her, and a muffin because they were good. Then she settled in at a window booth, waiting for Lyra.



[open for all your Perk needs]

The Park [after sunset]

[sith_happened]

Though the TIE fighter and trailing shuttle had landed in Fandom early in the morning, the sun had set before the Stormtroopers had found a place in town and moved all of Darth Vader's belongings from the shuttle to his room at 33 Apocalypse Avenue.

Dark Lords don't carry their own bags, after all, and setting up the meditation chamber took time. It didn't mean that Darth Vader was pleased by the delay.

After a brief pause to inflict some discipline—fortunately, more Stormtroopers had come to Fandom than were necessary to pilot the shuttle back home—Vader finally began his trip towards his new accomodations.

He glanced around as he wandered through town. Strange that so little had changed in twenty-five years. Caritas was where he remembered and he could smell the zombie band from the street, All and Sundries was still open, and the radio station didn't seem to have been torched by an angry mob. The trees hadn't even gotten any taller. Of course, Vader reflected, this being Fandom, it was entirely possible that they had been burned down and replanted. Or that he'd remembered Fandom as being better, bigger and more perfect than it had actually been.

His cape skimmed across the grass as he stalked into the park. He hadn't wanted to remember Fandom at all, but he'd long since learned in the service of the Emperor that what he wanted and what he would get were sometimes vastly different.

It had been decades and anyone he'd might be hoping to avoid had long since graduated and moved on with her--their, he hastily corrected—lives.

As if summoned by that memory, a yapping blur of a puppy went flying past.

Vader was suddenly very glad that his breathing was regulated.

"Vladdie," an exasperated voice called, and Vader turned around and looked down into a pair of blue eyes he'd spent years trying to forget.

[OOC: Vader's here for Rory but if you *really* want to meet the evil mouth breather....]

The House at 33 Apocalypse Ave, Evening

[behindeyesonly.livejournal.com]

Logan had decided to set up his laptop at the island in the kitchen, making some headway in getting together a final idea of his syllabus. There were brownies in the oven and it was turning out to be a very bright house, both from the sunlight earlier and how nicely the room was lit now, in the evening.

There also may have been a For Rent sign outside still. He might regret forgetting that.

[OOC: Locked to someone in particular, though open to housemates]

Our Lady of Fandom; Thursday [ 08/31 ]

[nun-better.livejournal.com]

And herein lies the tale of Sister Rosette Christopher who, in having noticed something particularly shiny and curious in the high statue bases against the southernmost wall of the church, thought it a good idea to grab a bunch of folding chairs from the storage closet, stack them up and go to see what it was. She'd just about reached it (it looked like maybe a coin of some sort? a glass eye fallen off the piece of art?) when, reaching forward, she lost her balance and the chairs began to topple over. Feeling the sudden shove of gravity, Rosette let out a shriek and reached for the closest thing she could find, one of the tapestries hanging from the rafters. She clutched onto it as the chairs tumbled down, clattering on the floor, and leaving her desperately hanging from the cloth.

"CHRONO!" Rosette was nearly crying in panic as she felt her fingers loosen; she slid down an inch. "Heeeeeeeelllllp!!"

Wide-eyed, the demon boy hurried over, flailing. What the hell had she done now? HOW had she done that? "Rosette, what are you doing?"

"FALLING!"

And that she did, pulling the tapestery down with a cloud of dust and probably a little bit of mortor from the ceiling as well. The tapestery covered her when she landed hard, but the damage was small besides a very sore butt. She pulled the tapestry off her head, adjusting her veil. "Owwwwww."

Chrono, now white and coughing from the dust, didn't seem to make it out as well as Rosette, desperately trying to brush off his coat. "What were you doing up there?"

"I saw something up there!" she pointed angrily toward the one-eyed statue. "And tried to get it."

Brushing off was useless. Chrono started stacking the chairs, going into a long rant about how Rosette needed to think about things more before she did them and how they do actually have a ladder in the storage closet, which would have made a lot more sense and blah blah blah, Rosette didn't really care to listen. She took one look at the mess she'd made, Chrono's immediate, efficient response of cleaning it up, hitched up her skirt, and quickly darted out of the church.

"Now, you want to come help me with the cha..." Chrono turned around to a very distinct lack of nun. He sighed heavily. Dammit....

[[ ....Chrono's available if ya need 'im ]]

[Causeway, Afternoon]

[krycek-rat.livejournal.com]

If you were anywhere near the causeway on Thursday afternoon, you might have been witness to a helicopter landing directly across the path. Two figures emerged from the craft, well tanned and carrying several bags. Well, one was carrying several bags - the other, slighter, figure had only two.

They hurriedly walked directly towards the school, possibly to get as far away from the helicopter as possible, and quickly ducked into the narrow streets of Fandom Town to escape any watchful eyes that may have been still in the helicopter.

After a few moments of waiting, the helicopter started up again and lifted off, leaving the causeway free for others to once again use.

[ooc: Just establishing a return, but feel free to notice the copter or be otherwise annoyed at the noise.]

Cafe Fina, Thursday

[badassbutler.livejournal.com]

Alfred was amazed at the influx of new students and teachers. And moreso at the amazing variety of names.

Or lack of names, in the case of the one called "El" and the one called "Yondaime".


_{[[wait for the OCD OCD up!]]}

Caritas, Thursday, August 31st

[sensethevisions]

Phoebe showed up early for her first night of work and greeted Tino warmly. He gave her a tour of the bar and the storage rooms were extra things were kept and then gave her a brief lesson on how to best reattach zombie parts for the band when they fell off.

After all of this, she wiped down the bar and then bounced around excitedly behind it as she waited for customers to arrive.

Pizza Planet [Thursday Evening]

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

John and Aeryn are already situated in a booth, sitting quietly and drinking sodas. They've ordered a medium pizz and John, in all his infinite wisdom, hopes the food gets Aeryn to open up some tonight. John's never given dating advice before...to anyone. Not seriously, at least.

[ooc: Aeryn modded with permission until her player gets home!]
[ooc: For Blair and Marie but open for your Pizza Planet needs]

18 Apocalypse Avenue, All Day Thursday

[jarodpretends.livejournal.com]

Jarod spent the day handwavily carrying boxes, assorted disassembled furniture, and M and her paraphrenalia across town from the Sin and putting it in his room, which had been easier once he'd rented a rickshaw for the day. He'd also had some help once the girls had woken up, which had been quite the spectacle as they walked across town, each carrying a box, even if the complained and teased him about being whipped during the entire trip. Now that he was finished with the actual moving and the girls had gone to get ready for work, he borrowed Hawkeye's hammock and a beer and was enjoying the sunset before he started unpacking.

M, wearing a harness, was investigating her surroundings. She seemed particularly fond of the grass and was slinking around, reminding Jarod of nothing so much as a very, very tiny tiger.


[ooc: Open to the housemates or anyone just wandering by.]

Mauvaise Chance RoofTop - Late Thursday Night

[dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com]

After visiting for a while with Phoebe down at Caritas, Phale and Wilson headed back to the apartment, spiritedly debating the merits of call in radio programs. In an effort to save himself from sleeping on the couch appease the 'Sound of Nuns' hating angel, Wilson offered a good wing preen and after just a wee bit of coaxing, Phale agreed.

After all, it had been awhile since he'd had a corporal body and he could do with a good stretch and preening of the luminescent feathers.

Deciding to take advantage of the warm night, Wilson packed a small cooler with a few beers, plucked the special feather oil from a small bag Phale had summoned from somewhere, while Aziraphale picked up another portable radio. Grabbing a blanket as well, the pair headed up to the roof of the apartment building where Phale carefully unfurled his broad, white wings, giving them a good stretch while Wilson set up a small area with their blanket, beers and music.

With a CD of the 'Pirates of Pens' playing softly, Wilson reached to crack open a beer and leaned back to watch Phale stretch and rustle hopelessly mused feathers.

"Good, grief what a mess."

[ooc: Open to all residents of Mauvaise Chance Apartments and anyone who can think of a reason why they would be on the roof of Mauvaise Chance Apartments. :)]

The Park, late Thursday night

[singasoloduet.livejournal.com]

A dark figure moved along the edge of the pond, occasionally stooping and standing quite still before moving on. Someone walking by might hear a quietly muttered, "Round? If he thinks he's getting away with that...."