Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Monday

[gdiumbrella.livejournal.com]

Alice had decided, if only a bit belatedly, that if she was going to stick around she would at least need to have something to do to pass the time, what with working in the store with probably the lowest customer ratio, right?

Sadly enough though, she hadn't really found anything reminiscing of a hobbie in her time in the island, probably for lack of trying, honestly. She would have to try harder. Probably even leave her room! She had heard something about the picnic and new people, and was only now thinking she might as well had showed her face around. Well, next time for sure.

But for now? For now she had something to read to pass the time. It certainly spoke of her interests.

[ OCD free! ]

Magic Box, Monday

[harpy-daughter.livejournal.com]

Surreal had skipped the picnic because, well, she was Surreal, and being nice to people she didn't know or care about was not high on her list of priorities. Ever.

But the store was tidy and open, and she'd help anyone who wandered in to look around. Although you'd have to show at least a basic working knowledge of magic to be allowed to purchase anything of any level of usefulness, least you accidentally blow up the dorms.

[Open & OCD-freeeeeeee]

Devil's Nest, Monday, 1/07

[bitten_notshy]

After two weeks away due to the holidays, Jack dreaded his club shift today. He'd been keeping up with email and the most immediate tasks, of course, but there was still bound to be paper mail to open, Tiny and the DJ to deal with, budget spreadsheets to fill out ...

And, as it happened, a clogged soda gun that Tiny seemed to think it was Jack's job to fix. So he'd be ringing in his 2013 behind the bar, shirt sleeves rolled up, banging about with a wrench and pliers and trying to look like he had the faintest idea what he was doing.

He truly had the most glamorous jobs.

Stark Industries [lunchtime on]

[makemyownway.livejournal.com]

After Cade's classes of movie watching and talking-at-Jaina...ness, he was more than ready for his job of sitting on his butt and glaring at the door, daring customers to bother him.

Cade needed some serious customer training.

Stark Industries was open!

The Perk, Monday Afternoon

[longislandiceme]

Yeah, okay, so. Bobby had some Big News. And he'd meant to do this like, weeks ago, but, you know... evil mutants and missions and blah blah blah.

He just really hoped Karla had managed to keep what Sookie had told her under wraps because, you know. Part of the fun was getting to tell one's friends and all. Best friends in particular.

So he'd handwavily given Warren a call, luring him temporarily back to Fandom with promises of coffee from the Perk. Because this was the sort of thing that was so much more fun in person.

Snagging a table, he ordered an iced coffee for himself and an Americano for War, and an obscene amount of pastries, and sat down to wait.

[ooc: expecting he who is named but also open!]

The Beach, Monday Afternoon

[nips-your-nose.livejournal.com]

Normally, Jack wasn't the sort to stick around in one place for long. His first class wasn't supposed to be until Wednesday, he'd never really pictured himself going to school in the first place, and just sitting around with nothing to do for a few days on end wasn't generally his idea of a great time. He'd have taken off right after the picnic, as a matter of fact, except that this place intrigued him.

Heck, it had surprised him. He'd had more conversations on Saturday at the picnic than he'd had in the three centuries since the Moon had told him his name and then left him alone to figure out everything else for himself. He liked that. So... maybe he was going to stick around to see what those classes were like, after all. Even if the handful of people that had seen him, the people who believed in him, were all that ever did, that was something worth sticking around for all the same.

He was grinning to himself as he mulled that over, walking along the shoreline and letting the freezing Atlantic water splash up around his bare ankles. Every so often he'd laugh, swinging his staff down through the waves, seeing how many droplets he could freeze before they fell down to the sandy beach. It wouldn't keep him occupied until Wednesday, no, but it wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon.

[Ooc: I'm home sick and the internet is mostly functional, so open for people who can and can't see Jack all the same!]

Cafe Luke's, Monday

[lovemykilt]

Priestly stared down at the blank counter top, hands empty, open, and ready. He wiggled his fingers in the general direction of a scale, then changed his mind and started reaching for a paring knife. Then changed it again and reached up for a soup pot, only to abort and go back to staring.

"Uh," said the cook. "Boss?"

"SHUSH!" Priestly stuck his hand, one finger raised, in the cook's face without looking away from the counter top. "Inspiration may strike at any moment!"

Today's specials
Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
Now hiring! Most shifts available!

Luke's was open.

Café Fina, Monday Evening

[one-for-vanity.livejournal.com]

In a dressing room by the kitchen, Monsieur du Vallon examined himself in the mirror and straightened his collar. "Is this entirely necessary?" he asked the Cheese Grater, for what seemed like the thousandth time.

He'd been given a custom-tailored outfit of satin and velvet which was encumbered with more golden embroidery and trim than one could think possible. There were enormous lace ruffles bursting out of the sleeves and neckline. Many of the threads were spun from real gold -- or, at least, looked it -- and they made the whole vestment sparkle. It was extravagant, it was gaudy, and very few people would be willing to be seen wearing it. If you looked at it from just the right angle, and ignored the large roundness of the lord's stomach that kept the lines of the garments from being as straight as they should, the whole ensemble made him look somewhat like a pretentious candelabra.

But, of course, the clothes weren't the problem. Monsieur du Vallon LOVED the clothes, in fact, and was considering asking the dishes to make him a few more sets, in varying colors. No, the problem was what they intended for him to do in the clothes. "Are you sure?" he asked again.

"It's tradition," the Cheese Grater insisted.

With a sigh, Porthos took his place at the front of the line of dishes waiting to serve the customers. He held his head high and strode out into the dining room, followed by the staff.


"Mesdames, Mesdemoiselles, et Messieurs," he addressed the room. "It is with deepest pride and greatest pleasure that we welcome you tonight. And now we invite you to relax; let us pull up a chair as the dining room proudly presents... your dinner!"

Be our guest! Be our guest!
Put our service to the test
Tie your napkin 'round your neck, chéries
And we'll provide the rest...

Caritas, Monday Evening

[onepunchguy.livejournal.com]

It was a new night for Guy to work, but it was the same as always beyond that. It involved informing Tino for the tenth time that no, Guy was not going to tape of the zombie band. He was in no way paid enough to do that crap.

That was all on Tino.

So, Caritas was open. And only slightly falling apart. If you looked at the stage.