The Gig, Sunday

[kestrelswolf.livejournal.com]

Firekeeper was glad to see the snow go, as it meant she no longer had to worry about wearing boots anywhere. Well, that and the horses, who were beginning to get quite bored with staying inside so much, could spend the majority of the day outside in the pasture with her and Blind Seer.

Fixer-Uppers, Sunday

[answer2bheard.livejournal.com]

Oh, man, was Jim ever in a good mood today at the Fiver-Uppers. The island had moved again, and for all the creepiness in the world, nothing was ever going to change the fact that for the first time in ages, the weather was good enough for him to ride his solar surfer to work. Between the chill of the ice age and London's rain, he'd been having withdrawls. Just a bit.

A lot.

He was sitting up on the counter with his surfer propped up against it just in case he decided that he wanted to grab it and go for another ride during his lunch break or something. For the time being, he was toying here and there with smaller bits and pieces, trying to come up with some combination of Earth materials that would be able to score him a working miniature.

A bit unconsciously, he'd taken to whistling as he worked. It hadn't taken very much for the silence of this new place to start to get to him, surfer-related happiness aside.

[Open, OCD-free!]

Turtle & Canary, Sunday

[swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com]

The Ice Age might have been cold, but at least it had been nice to look at.

This place, on the other hand... well, Dolf was happy to be working inside, where there weren't too many windows. Even if that meant dealing with Nana from time to time, and cleaning up spilled milk after she knocked her tail a little too enthusiastically into an aisle.

Keeping busy kind of kept him distracted from that odd sense of foreboding he was feeling.

Today's Squishy flavors: Red, Red, Rum.

Mystery Sign Theatre, Sunday

[chosehumanity]

After a long absence from England, Mitchell had chosen to spend the past week helping George and Nina set up their new... farmhouse in Wales. It'd been sort of nice, if by 'nice' you meant 'rife with long silences and quiet accusations and a blond werewolf practically tearing the place apart', sure.

But now he was back. It was sort of nice, too, in the way that their new surroundings seemed to perfectly mirror how Mitchell felt.

He sighed, and peered up at the sign.

NOW SHOWING:
Terrible Employers

Well. He was definitely hoping this wasn't the staff trying to give him a clue.

[[ open! ]]

Caritas, Sunday, 7/31

[bitten_notshy]

Jack had wandered across the causeway for just long enough to establish that, wherever the island was this time, it wasn't anyplace that seemed to want immediate exploring. The small town seemed all but deserted, and an air of what felt like failure hung over it.

Still, it was nice that it wasn't so blighted cold anymore. Jack left the bar doors open tonight, the better to catch any breezes.