Goodvalor's Little Bivoli, Tuesday

[cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com]

The restaurant still wasn't officially open, but Zayne was here anyway. After all, he still had to give the cooking droids recipes, make sure the host droid, GG-54, was working right, and generally make sure that Gryph hadn't stuck him with cheap droids and equipment that was going to explode. It was a real concern.

But while the place wasn't officially open, Zayne did put up a sign that said, "COMING SOON - HELP WANTED" by the entrance.

Really, there was plenty to do even if food wasn't actually being served yet.

[OOC: No OCD since the place isn't open. And I'm on SP until after work!]

The Preserve and Then Beyond Into Fandom, Tuesday Morning

[lockestheway]

The infection had had time to spread. The blasted heath had had time to... reproduce. The poor teal deer who first sipped from the water at the campsite had had no idea of what was about to happen - and neither had the alots that had ventured out near the rock.

In the days since the rock had insinuated itself in Fandom, its influence had grown. It had crept up through warm living cells and twisted them. Made them greyer, sharper, tougher.

It was the deer who felt it first. Their bodies twisted. Their legs changed, their faces warped. Their minds went dark, then mad with hunger. It was the hunger that drove them out of the woods in the morning, not walking, shambling or slinking, but stalking quietly onto Fandom's empty streets.

Only an hour or so later, the alots joined them. They looked nothing like they once had.

But they all had the same purpose in mind: feed.

[[ for both your moddable and your NPCed fights. Go here to request an NPC. ]]

Trooper Station [afternoon into evening]

[sith_happened]

After his class, Anakin grabbed a few Clone Troopers from the station and went on a quick patrol around the island, searching for any more random pools that might have cropped up, or weird rocks, or anything that felt out of the ordinary (other than his rather persistent headache).

When he reached the campground, the infection--it was the only thing he could think to call it--had spread beyond the roped-off area. He reached down to touch a leaf and it crumbled to dust in his fingers.

"Not good," he muttered. He directed the Troopers to re-rope the area and then headed back to the police station, where Ralph reported fighting off a "something", which was not the most useful description Anakin had ever received.

He set Ralph to sketching out the "something," and then began answering phone calls from local NPC residents.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sure the squirrel was quite creepy. They spy on you every day, though. You know that, right?"

The station was open. And busy!

The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

[montecito-east.livejournal.com]

Mary looked a bit more radiant than usual today and was telling everyone that it was due to spending last week at the spa while LJ was otherwise inoperable. She left out the part about attending daily AA meetings at the "spa."

Welcome to the Arms Hotel
Today's Specials
Buttermilk Baked Chicken
Roasted Broccoli and Feta Salad
Peach Crumb Pie

[Open! No OCD.]

Groovy Tunes, Tuesday

[notyourpawn.livejournal.com]

Something was wrong. Something was itching, deep within Alice's brain. It was a record played in the wrong key, speed up a half-step too fast and skipping a note every second verse.

She wandered like a caged animal, wishing she could find the real melody, track the source of the discord, make the harsh notes resolve into harmony before they drove her mad.

Silly Alice. She was already mad; the degree only changed day to day.

The Devil's Nest, Tuesday

[icecoldfrost]

Emma could hear it.

She had no idea what 'it' was, beyond the fact it was incredibly annoying and gave her a headache. It was someone talking but you couldn't quite make out the words, or nails on a chalkboard that never varied in pitch or tone and you couldn't locate the source of the sound. So Emma did what any sane and reasonable telepath would do.

She showed up to work shiny so she wouldn't have to listen to it. Apparently people already knew something was wrong, going by the cabin evacuation, and such things were best left to the self-proclaimed 'heroes' who enjoyed running around in spandex.

The DJ was trying to play disco tunes to celebrate her sparkly state, although Emma was steadfastly refusing to spin around on the dance floor for him.

The Devil's Nest was open, and the hostess/bouncer was fully prepared to toss any icky things that showed up right back out the door. There would be none of that nonsense in this club, thank you kindly.

Cafe Luke's [Tuesday]

[justwantsquiet.livejournal.com]

Sookie was a little late to work today, mostly due to oversleeping. She hadn't been able to rest well at all -- what with the transition from the cabins to the dorms, she'd already been worried. Then the headache had started. It was like a ringing in her ears, constant, just out of reach, except it was in her mind.

Shades of Rapture all over again.

So today, for comfort, she was making pies. Because she could do it while texting Bobby and trying not to fall asleep. (The theme of her texts was, of course, 'DO NOT GO LOOK AT THE ROCK.' She'd met him.)