The Gig, Sunday

[kestrelswolf.livejournal.com]

Today, the calves seemed more sad than angry. From what Firekeeper could gather through gentle (yes, she could be gentle, shut up) questioning, it had to do with the fact that they had never known their father.

With sympathy, she agreed that that was sad and offered the little animals an apple each. It seemed to satisfy them for the time being, at least.

Demon Marcus, Sunday, All Day

[myownface]

Yeah, Sparkle liked coming to work. He liked that he was allowed to smoke at the counter, just so long as he didn't get caught. He liked that he was allowed to burn things in the back room, just so long as he wasn't actually burning anything tasteful. He liked that there was a stash of alcohol under the counter (and he'd only taken one swig so far, because he was capable of showing some measure of discretion) and that, just so long as his employer was in, like, Acapulco or Bermuda or wherever, he didn't even feel obligated to dress all pretty for his shift. And most of all, he liked that he wasn't stuck in a tent in the woods, surrounded by bugs and girls and... more bugs.

And so, if any customers were to come into Demon Marcus today only to find themselves baffled by the smoking, scruffy-looking kid who seemed ridiculously out of place surrounded by such high-end fashion, and greeted by the smell of sizzling polyester coming from the back room... Well, Sparkle was just here to do his job. Deal.

[Open!]

McCoppin Scrap, Sunday, All Day

[drinks_coffeezilla]

"Ooooh-kaaaay."

So, the tires that had been set aside for that big sculpture project were all gone when Dean had come in to the junkyard today.

In fact, so was all of the junk.

The entire yard, with the exception of the designated spaceship-freaking-parking-lot off to the other end over there, was full of nothing but tiny, plastic garbage cans, in ridiculously bright colors. And when Dean got over that necessary moment of just blank staring, shrugged it off, and went to open one, it was full of that sort of candy that, really, would probably make a half decent sidewalk chalk, too.

Garbage Can-dy. Go figure.

Dean just sighed, headed home for a few minutes to get himself some coffee, a lawn chair, and a newspaper to read, and then settled in near the gate for the day on the off-chance that somebody wanted to put an order down for future scrap. Or art. In the meantime, the candy was free.

[Open, and OCD-free!]

The Devil's Nest- Sunday

[inaskinnyway.livejournal.com]

Today was shaping up to be a normal day just like any other week because guess who's too brain dead to be creative. Yep, nothing to see here.

Except the DJ playing "Who Let the Dogs Out?" three times so far tonight but that was really something to hear here.

The Devil's Nest was open. And the DJ might die soon.

Jeff, God of Biscuits, Sunday evening

[firstnameagent.livejournal.com]

Coulson had to go to a secret doctor on the mainland earlier to get checked out for his recent... let's just call them 'health concerns.' But everything was about as good as could be expected, and that meant it was time to celebrate.

"I don't know, they all look so good," Coulson told the clerk at J,GoB. He'd been staring at the donuts for a couple minutes, but only because the clerk seemed kind of bored when he came in. "You know what? I'll take a half dozen of your choice. I trust you." The clerk sighed and picked six donuts pretty much at random, betraying Coulson's trust entirely. But Coulson didn't have to know that.

Once that was all sorted, Coulson took his donuts and a coffee over to a booth. That way the clerk wouldn't have to be all alone. Coulson was so thoughtful.

[OOC: I'm back from vacation and am once again mostly conscious! Open for all of your pastry purposes.]