Stark Industries, Wednesday

[craftyladyparts.livejournal.com]

As strange as it was for a respectable lady like Jessica to have a job, she figured that she could still find some way to make herself useful around the shop today. First things first, those lab coats were FILTHY, so she was going to go ahead and wash them. And while she was waiting on that, she knew something that the boys would like during their shifts the rest of the week.

That's right. Cookies. Okay, fine, Stark's didn't have a "baking oven" or whatever, but Jessica was a clever girl scientist, so she put something together with sheet metal and bunsen burners. Wouldn't the boys be so impressed?

It wasn't long at all before any visitor to Stark's would be greeted with fresh-baked cookies and a friendly smile from a girl who just happened to be in black and white. And all that without messing up her new dress! Jessica was pretty sure that made her the best girl scientist ever.

[OOC: I am so, so sorry to womankind everywhere.

Open for gawking and spreading the Happy Daze! Standard work non-availability applies, though. Sad.]

The Park, Wednesday Morning

[dollpocalypse]

Christopher woke up this morning in need of some exercise, so he shrugged on his letterman's sweater, grabbed his baseball and his glove, and jogged out to the park, where he proceeded to play catch with himself. He tossed his ball high in the air and then jogged to catch it, and of coursem he caught it every time.

It wasn't enough of a challenge, because Christopher was a great athlete, one of the best ever seen in this corner of Maryland. He was probably going to get a baseball scholarship to his dream school, in fact, which he had his heart set on even though he was only a junior and school wasn't his favorite thing in the world. But for right now, he'd be here, playing catch with himself and occasionally taking water breaks and peering around the park to see if anyone else wanted to join him. Gosh, maybe there'd even be pretty girls. Though the baseball should be kept away from them, of course. For safety.

[[open, ofc! fifties germs, get your fifties germs right here.]]

Cafe Luke's, Wednesday

[lovemykilt]

Priestly was blissfully unaware of any strange desaturation taking place on the island, today. In fact, he was blissfully unaware of most things, today, as he'd decided to start the day off with a whole lot of "Irish" in his coffee and had kept rolling from there.

It was his 21st birthday. He wasn't going to let anything get him down.

Not even his cook. No matter how many times the other man insisted on a nutritionally balanced meal, Priestly shot his every idea down, frequently with rather a lot of language that would be most unapproved of by the island's strangely desaturated populace. Though he was at least willing to concede that a family establishment should at least use some restraint on the specials board.

Today's specials:
Mother[indecipherable smudge]ing birthday cake!

Luke's was open. And probably not getting past the censors.

Cleanest street corner ever [Wednesday afternoon]

[makemyownway.livejournal.com]

What else was a greaser to do on a Wednesday afternon but lounge against a building with a comb and fix his ducktail? There wasn't a malt shop with a jukebox anywhere! Cade had looked (well, looked in a way that made it very obvious that he didn't care, of course. That's why he had a leather jacket on, too, to prove how much he didn't care. Just like everyone else with a ducktail and a leather jacket).

So outdoor haircare it was as he hummed the Big Bopper's latest hit under his breath and checked his reflection periodically in the reflection off of the building's window.

[OOC: Come! Have a conversation, wake up black and white tomorrow!]

The Devil's Nest, Wednesday Evening

[justlurkinghere]

The DJ was once engaging in a vicious game of psychological warfare with Derek. His musical choices this evening? White Christmas played on loop.

It harkened back to a simpler time when Christmas was spent with family around a big, decorated tree. Which meant Derek hated it with ever fiber of his being.

He'd get you back for this, DJ. Don't you think he won't. There will be blood upon the snow and other graphic images of violence around the holidays.