MCA Lobby, Saturday

[cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com]

With the basement renovations done for the time being (at least until he got a bunch of appropriate weapons) and his lightsaber back to having a blue shimmer, Zayne was back in the lobby today in case anyone needed anything. He even had a sign up advertising the bunker for residents.

[OOC: I'm spotty today due to vacation type business. If you're cool with SP, though, so am I!

If you're interested in renting at MCA, there is one sub-basement apartment available. Information on apartments is here.]

Stark Industries | Saturday

[dollpocalypse]

Topher came to work today scuffed, exhausted, but very relieved to finally be back on the island. Portalocity had failed him this weekend. It had failed so hard.

Whereas his job at the store, in contrast, was actually a far greater asset than he'd realized.

There had been a number of things installed in the building itself when one of the previous owners had remodeled the place. And some of those things had yet to even be noticed by the most current owner. Who would have probably tried taking them apart.

Which would be why they still functioned now as the holographic image of a man suddenly flickered into existence.

"Ender. Or whoever the hell works here now. God, I hope it's not a moron." He was such a kind man, wasn't he? "I'm contacting Steve to make sure. It's all my readings on whatever is annihilating my world. Hopefully it hasn't reached there yet and you people can do something."

He stared down at something just off camera before shaking his head.

"Don't screw it up."

And then it was gone. But the readings remained on the computers.

Topher was left to gape at what he'd just seen. Then he quickly grabbed his laptop and tried to copy everything down without drawing little hearts everywhere and texted some people to come see. Who was that guy and why was he so awesome?

[[Cowritten, of course, with the lovely doyoufondue. Open!]]

Just outside the school gates [early afternoon]

[sith_happened]

Anakin came back from Connecticut with a new sense of purpose (and a deep hatred of the idiots who drove on I-95), several 2x4s, a hammer, and some paper.

A few minutes of banging later and Anakin had a giant bulletin board...thing.

In big bold letters he labeled one giant sheet of paper "CONFIRMED DISAPPEARANCES" and the other "RETURNING FANDOMITES."

He took a deep breath before scrawling information under the disappearances, then tacking up two dated photographs of the people in question on the blank area on the board he'd left for that purpose. For some reason it seemed vital that someone other than him remember what they looked like too.

He placed a piece of glass down over the sheets of paper (no use going to this much trouble if things would just get blown away or wet) and headed back to the trooper station to catch up on what he'd missed the last few days.

[OOC: And now we have an IC place to link to the information dropped characters and alumni are leaving in voicemails! Please hold for OCD.]

The Perk, Saturday afteroon.

[izzyalienqueen.livejournal.com]

Isabel was at the Perk leaving lots of messages for people. But then a call didn't go through.

The coffee she'd been mainling was going to go untouched for a while.

[Oh so open. In addition to the links, lots of handwavey voicemails were left as well.]

Art Gallery, Saturday

[legion-we-are.livejournal.com]

While she was no closer to understanding the draw of imperfect representations of yet more imperfect objects, Myria studying the paintings. It was like a word on the tip of her tongue, a sensation that was confusing and distressing.

Glands again, no doubt.

Being human, she surmised, was something like slowly losing your sense of self. When you'd never really had one to begin with.

The gallery was open for business, of course.

The Devil's Nest: Saturday, 26 November

[nookiepowered]

Once again, Bo stood behind the bar with her head bent over her phone, this weekend. Even open to the same thing, though her Twitter page now no longer said @b00bsb00bsb00bs in giant embarrassing letters at the top. (It now said @msbojanglestoyou.)

This time, though, she was using her customer-free time to scan through the #portalocityfail and #fandomhigh tags for clues to what was happening out there, who was heading this way, and who'd gone missing.

Just a wee bit less amusing than it had been last week, though the weird kid with the mousetrap on her ass was good for a snicker.

[Open. Laaaate. #multitaskingfail.]