Luke's | Friday

[district12baker.livejournal.com]

Peeta wasn't really familiar with the upcoming holiday so he was letting the guys in the back explain it to him while they set up for the day.

Today's Specials
Open-Faced Tomato Grilled Cheese
Poppy Seed Potato Salad
Chocolate Stout Cupcakes

Goodvalor's Little Bivoli, Friday

[godgavemecable.livejournal.com]

Normally, Toby didn't mind his job; the food (when he could identify it) was pretty good, it paid well, and his boss was a pretty laid-back guy.

Then there were days like today when the constant hum of thoughts from everyone on-island got a little overwhelming, and Toby wanted nothing more than to just hide until it died down again. So hiding was exactly what he was doing, back in the kitchen. Though he was around should anyone desperately have need of him.

TODAY'S SPECIAL
...WE'LL GET BACK TO YOU ON THAT

[ooc: AND I FINISH SPAMMING THE FLIST. Open, though again with the massive SP.]

Beach, Friday Midday

[withoutverona]

Romeo tried to spend a little time by the ocean every day to settle his brain, and he thought the current weather posed no reason to change that routine. Fandom was rarely hot for a man who grew up in Verona Beach, after all.

But by the time he got to the beach -- hair sweat-slick to his forehead and Hawaiian shirt sticking to his back -- he had to admit his plans had perhaps exceeded what was wise today. Things only got worse as he trudged down to walk along the tide line, hoping the spray of the water would provide some relief. He stepped on something slimy and looked down: There were perfect white-and-gold frying eggs on the sand, mingling with the seaweed, rocks and driftwood.

As he gaped at them, a crab crawled up and began to feast on the yolk of one of the largest eggs.

[OOC: Beach open to anyone else dumb enough to go outside today.]

Turtle and Canary -- Friday

[feedsonchaos.livejournal.com]

It was another easy day at the store, which for Hope meant a quick tidying up of the store, praying gratefully that there'd yet to be any major messes, and then sitting behind the counter with a magazine.

And because she knew it annoyed Apu, she had her feet on the counter. Just because she was feeling contrary that way.

Today's Squishy flavors: Procrastination Peach, Grape Judas, Blueberry.

[OCD-free today due to mun having a case of the busy]

The Perk, Friday Afternoon

[wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com]

Things at the Hyperion right now were... hectic. Returning from Pylea had been difficult enough on its own, what with Fred to situate in the hotel and all the last-minute portals that had needed to be arranged to send the Fandom crowd back to school (and other places), but that wasn't the worst of it. They'd returned to find the couch in the lobby occupied by Willow, who'd come to inform them -- well, Angel in particular, Wesley supposed, but them -- that Buffy was dead. A hellgod had managed to open up a gateway to billions of hell dimensions all at once, and somehow Buffy had been able to sacrifice herself in order to close it.

So naturally Angel was out of commission as well. He'd gone with Willow back to Sunnydale to help with whatever he could, and judging from the silent intensity with which he'd packed most of the contents of his suite, Wesley doubted he'd be back anytime soon.

So it was down to himself, Cordelia and Gunn to run the place and take care of the mentally-unstable Texan living on the second floor, while Cordelia griped about missing her throne and Gunn complained about not having gotten to experience the hell-world for himself and Lorne had apparently resolved to stay the hell away from the people who'd smashed up his bar again (at least, until the next crisis, Wesley surmised). So really, there was no good excuse for abandoning the hotel, however temporarily, for any kind of substantial visit to the island.

But it was highly unlikely that Wesley would manage to get Perk-caliber coffee anywhere else right now, and really, he needed to breathe and to think somewhere very far from all the craziness. So an hour, he decided. He would be here for an hour, send some texts to some friends to let them know he was here in case they wanted to talk, have some coffee, and then go back to Los Angeles ready to help with... all of that again.

...Okay, maybe two hours.

[[if you think you got a text, you did! oooopen.]]

Devil's Nest [evening]

[texted3times]

"Do I even want to know why the entire town smells like eggs?" Eric asked Tiny as he stalked up to the bar.

Tiny assured him that no, no he didn't. Would he like a drink that was on fire?

Eric then explained in tiny words why vampires and fire were non-mixy things.

The Devil's Nest was open. And egg free, at least for the moment.

[OOC: OCD free, but I'm around.]