Atlas Gym, Sunday

[gimmemoreteams.livejournal.com]

Logan had some paperwork to do.

That paperwork was sitting on his desk. The corner of his desk. It was not getting done. Instead he was watching the Nationals play the Orioles on a small TV in his office.

For the record, it wasn't procrastination: it was just plain not doing that part of his job because he hated it. And he was okay with that.

[OOC: If anyone wants to talk to Logan, I'll be away for a few hours doing some work stuff. I'll be back around 5-ish Eastern, give or take. Otherwise, gym's open.]

Caritas, Sunday

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Anders's last shift, and he was feeling a little bit -- okay, a lot wibbly and sentimental about the whole thing as he came in tonight. He thought he'd even miss Tino's olive-throwing.

And then a hail of olives came flying at him, thereby proving that Tino had actually gone ahead and figured out how to construct an olive trebuchet . . . and he wasn't so sure about missing that bit any more.

At least he had the consolation of making Tino clean up the mess.

[OOC: Up a bit early since I'm hitting the road home now! Will pick up tags from rest stops and such, and SP into tomorrow as needed -- yay for last-minute unplanned trips?]

The Park, Sunday Afternoon

[screwyoumarvel]

Steve sat on a bench with a sketchpad as his pony charge trotted about, grazing particularly choice patches of grass and occasionally shooting Steve a mournful look Steve was pretty sure meant Tony still wished he would reconsider his 'no alcohol for the pony' stance. Steve ignored him, though. He had more important things to worry about, like how he could never quite get the pony's leg right in this drawing.

He'd heard other artists complain about the difficulty of drawing equines. He'd never quite believed them until he had a very real need to capture one on paper before it wore off.

Every now and then, Steve would look up at Tony the pony and snicker. Because really.