Streets Near the Rocky Bits, Thursday Morning

[suitably_heroic]

Atton was quickly starting to learn there was nothing more damning than taking a stroll around here. There he was, barely out of the gates, minding his own business on his way down Loon Drive-- bars weren't open yet, but he could grab some of that pizza stuff-- when out of nowhere, a goat appeared and sank its teeth deeply into Atton's fanny pack the pouch on his belt.

"What the--"

The goat tugged it off his belt and began gnawing on it.

"Give that back, you oversized mynock!" he snapped, reaching for it and giving it a tug. The goat... didn't let go. In fact, it tugged harder.

"You stupid--" Atton made a pissed-off sound in the back of his throat and lashed out with the full extent of his Echani training-- which, okay, he'd cop later might have been a little overkill, but the stupid thing was trying to take his fanny pack pouch-- and punched it straight in the forehead.

His pouch promptly dropped to the ground.

"Huh," he said. "Well, what do you know. Guess--"

Another goat leaped off the Rocky Bits and promptly scooped up his pouch.

"Can't a guy go on a damn walk anymore?!"

[[ open! ]]

Magic Box, Thursday, May 24

[life_inshadow]

Tara had just opened the shop when a goat wandered in through the open doors, looked at Tara with baleful eyes, and began deliberately munching on some jewelry and poultices on a sale table.

"Excuse me," Tara said uncertainly. "If you're a student trying to cure yourself, that's ... not gonna help, sorry."

The goat didn't answer, other than by moving along to graze on some dreamcatchers.

"Hey," Tara said indignantly. "Those kind of cost a lot of money? So, uh ... m-maybe don't eat them?"

The goat's only response was to look even sadder at being reprimanded as it continued to eat. And then a second goat joined it. This one seemed to like the taste of spellbooks.

Tara sighed and did her best to move the really valuable stuff out of the reach of goats while she attempted to persuade her guests to leave. Unless she figured out they needed to be punched -- which was unlikely, because Tara -- this was going to be a long day.

[OOC: Open magic shop with minor goat problem!]

Early Thursday Morning

[fh-creepies.livejournal.com]

High atop Selkie Peak where the sea wind usually whistled, there was silence and stillness for a moment, as a dark cloud gathered, blown in from... who knows where. Hell? San Francisco? The Portalocity office in Moscow?

The world might never know, nor did it matter. The only thing that mattered was the breaking of the silence as two thousand and twelve* cloven hooves thundered down the cliffs toward the inhabited parts of Fandom.

They were gray and white and horny. (Not dirty.) (Well, they were dirty, too, but regular dirty, not dirty dirty.) They were damp, they were hairy, they smelled like rotten fish and brimstone, and they were hungry.

Mostly for wires, but they'd happily settle for your homework or your brand new iPhone in a pinch.

They were baaaa-aaaaaaaad news, is what they were.

*Honest to Jeff. Multiply 503 by four, and...
__
[OOC: This was up at midnight. RLY. And if you'd like an NPC goat, this is where you can ping in with your location and your request!]

Dite's Decadent Delights, Thursday Afternoon

[icecoldfrost]

The door to Dite's was propped open today, and the sounds of crashing from inside the store floated out to the street.

As did a goat. Or three or five, and they didn't so much 'float' as were thrown with all the force that a living diamond could muster, some of them poofing into a puff of smoke from the impact when they hit the pavement.

"AND STAY OUT."

Dite's was open, and the goats had discovered that you can't eat a diamond mutant.

Groovy Tunes, Thursday

[wasthecuteone]

The sign in the window at Groovy Tunes said 'OPEN' but the door was locked. What was up with that?

Oh, yeah, you might want to redirect your attention to the handmade sign on a piece of notebook paper taped in the window:

Knock for entry
If you are not a goat.

Petra had decided it was the most efficient solution. She had the music turned down low enough she could hear anyone knocking, but first they'd have to get rid of the creepy crying goat outside the door. It was so sad about being denied entry. So, so sad. Petra was trying really hard to ignore it, but it probably had about ten more minutes before she went out to find out what it would take to get rid of the darn thing.

Petra had a black belt. This would probably not end well for the goat.

Groovy Tunes is open and OCD-free!! Just knock!

Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Thursday

[godofxbox]

Alex was more to be found near the door than behind the counter today, the better to punch any goats that tried to get into the store. They might harsh its calm. Or eat some of the weapons, and he really didn't want to try to explain a change in inventory to Mr. Cable.

Wellspring Arms? Open.

The Causeway, Thursday at sundown

[firstnameagent.livejournal.com]

It would be wrong to say that Phil Coulson had seen an interesting couple of weeks. The first few days of it, with the Tesseract incident and the events on the Helicarrier? Exciting, sure. But then he was in and out of consciousness for a while and then had to rest up in a secretive medical center after major surgery. That might have been interesting to other people, but Coulson was too unconscious at the time to feel that way. Maybe the details of the surgery would have been interesting to other people, but to Coulson, it was just a thing that had to be done.

Since he had finally been discharged, he was onto the next mission: getting the hell away from New York and flat out lying to anyone who might recognize him. Nowhere on the dossier Director Fury handed him did it mention "fend off goats who want to eat your cell phone the second you cross the causeway." Fortunately, Coulson was more than happy to deck something with horns right about now, even if the puff of smoke was somewhat anti-climactic. But regardless, with the goat business behind him, Coulson started to make his way into town, keeping his eyes open for places to spend the night and earn a living. Also, for more goats. Seriously, what the hell was with those?

[OOC: Agent Coulson is now in town! Post is open if anyone would like to talk to Phil.]

Caritas, Thursday evening

[regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com]

There are goats. And a very wet Kenzi. You do the math.

She'll just be over here on top of the bar, flicking the barbecue lighter if they get too close.

[open and ocd-free]