Cabot & Associates

[exspeedydotcom]

After spending Friday trapped in his cubicle by trunks labeled things like 'DADDY ISSUES,' 'ABANDONMENT ISSUES,' 'LOW SENSE OF SELF-WORTH,' 'SUBSTITUTES SEX FOR EMOTIONAL INTIMACY,' 'BELIEVES SELF TO BE A LOW-RENT VERSION OF HIS BEST FRIEND (AND IS NOT EXACTLY WRONG)' and, of course, the giant one with 'HEROIN' on it in enormous font, Roy was kind of relieved to get out of there on Saturday for work at the law office. Legal research was nicely brain-numbing right now.

Cabot & Associates is open for all your legal needs!

Atlas Gym, Saturday 5/29

[nofatjokes.livejournal.com]

Today at Atlas, there was a box of Twinkies with a note attached. Fred walked very calmly over and read the note.

Do you really feel a brotherhood to these lesser creatures? You were destined to be so much more.

At least this one wasn't insulting. Hell, it was practically a compliment. So what the hell was going on with the junk food presents?

He very calmly threw the Twinkies in the trash, and went over to run some step aerobics sessions. With extra shouting. But anyone was welcome to ask him for personal training advice.

[ooc: Open, with a forecast of no OCD and scattered replies as I am on Vacaaaaation.]

Arms Hotel Lobby, Saturday [5/29]

[awesomebigsis.livejournal.com]

Ellie was so relieved that all of the weird baggage in her alcove was gone when she woke up this morning. The only luggage she felt like dealing with was whatever belonged to anyone who might check in or out of the hotel.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Special
Chicken Quesadillas with Artichokes, Mushrooms, and Roasted Red Peppers

[open, though no ocd today]

Serenity Cove, early Saturday morning

[abitlegless.livejournal.com]

The air smelled like rain, and the day felt like a storm couldn't be far away, but right now it was warm and fine. The clouds scudding across the sky cast shadows over the boy and the dragon floating in the ocean; coming as they did from the land of ice and snow and more ice, they both considered this perfectly lovely weather.

Toothless was floating on his stomach, buoyed up by his spread wings, doing an entirely credible imitation of a raft. Hiccup was perched on his back, fishing pole in hand, catching breakfast. His false leg and the spare fishing rod were on the beach, lying on a garishly coloured hot pink towel.

There was already one large silver fish resting on Toothless' back. "What do you think, buddy, one more?" Toothless twitched an ear in the affirmative and Hiccup baited the hook and dropped the line in the water.

[OOC: Expecting one, but totally open, and I took the best guess possible on the weather based on the forecast.]

Caritas- Saturday

[solo_sword]

There were still puppies following Jaina around, but she didn't really mind at this point. They tended to stay out of her way while she needed to do things, such as now. When they curled up behind the bar all sleepily, though they'd probably wake up the second someone interesting came along.

They did not wake up for Tino, strangely enough.

MST3000 | Saturday Early Afternoon

[guardian-god.livejournal.com]

Now Showing:
McLincock!

He likes his whiskey hard...his women soft...and his west all to himself!

When he heard what the theater was showing, Dimitri had decided a classic Duke film was just what Rose needed to see in order to better understand why Westerns were not romance novels. And while he could easily rent his favorites anytime, this was on the big screen and that made a difference somehow.

He hadn't gone inside yet with the hope that his message had gotten to Rose in time and she was feeling available enough to let him take her out in public. It was a small step and if she was still concerned about rodents even after all the weirdness of the week, well, he'd simply take the heat. There would be no bribing.

But there might be popcorn.

[McLintock! is a horribly racist and sexist Western with an exclamation mark in the title and available online! Meta name due to typo that stuck. MST3K is open but free from OCD.]

Imperial Junke Yard, Saturday

[notquitewright.livejournal.com]

The gates were open and there was a black circle in the dirt, legacy of yesterday's not so successful but very satisfying attempt to be rid of Fandom's weirdness.

There was no sign of Marcus and the junkyard was quiet.

A little too quiet?

A clanking rang out from behind the shed, followed by a muffled curse.

Nah, not too quiet. Just the right amount of quiet for a junkyard in which one person was working out of obvious sight at something not overly noisy.

[Yeah, I have no idea, but open!]