Wellspring Arms & Meditation Center, Sunday

[firstnameagent.livejournal.com]

In a town where the dead mainly rose to say hi or maybe play music in a nightclub, Coulson supposed there wasn't much need for weapons to battle the zombie hoards. But still, he set up a display with a wooden baseball bat and a cricket bat, just to be inclusive. He also put a sign up with the display reading "Next time they may not be friendly."

Just another day at your friendly neighborhood weapons and relaxation store.

Goodvalor's Little Bivoli, Sunday

[godgavemecable.livejournal.com]

Some weekends, Toby figured it was better to just hide in his room and not come out.

Like weekends where nearly everyone, it seemed, was dealing with Fandom's latest weirdness. But anyway. Now he was out and about and the droids were speaking more than just... Ocean or whatever it had been last week.

TODAY'S SPECIAL
BAKED MACARONI AND CHEESE
APPLE PIE

The Beach, Early Sunday Morning

[not_a_whiner]

He'd been right - it had not been a good night. Still wasn't, actually.

Kaidan had spent most of the night in his room, on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His body felt tired, but his mind was racing; every time he turned to sleep thinking he'd silenced his mind, the thoughts crept back in and put a stranglehold on his brain. He needed sleep - if he stressed himself out and combined that with sleeplessness, he was going to wind up having migraines for most of next week. He knew that.

But it didn't calm his mind.

Eventually, he gave up. It was still dark out, but on the new day's side of the night - just a couple of hours and the sun would come up. He'd already tried doing push-ups, a voice in the back of his mind urging him to finally start picking up the slack, become better, faster, stronger, until he'd slid back into bed thinking I'm tired now, but not sleeping.

Now? Now he was giving up. Getting dressed.

Walking out the front door and jogging down the road. Down a few flights of stairs. A few laps around the inner city. When that didn't help, he took the path downwards to the beach.

It was the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks that finally drove him out of numbness. He remembered that sound, the way the waves did the same thing on Virmire, over and over against the coastline. The water washing up the legs of his armor as he leaned heavily against the bomb, firing rounds at the geth as they kept coming at him.

He sat down on one of those rocks, right next to the patch of sand where just yesterday Ash had, in a streak of poetic inspiration, written lines in the sand. They were all gone now, of course, and he couldn't remember most of it. 'We gave our lives to Normandy', and then something, something.

He released a breath and dropped his face into his hands. He listened to the waves.

[[ open ]]

The Devil's Nest- Sunday

[solo_sword]

While the weekend gave her more family stuff to worry about, the fact that Jaina hadn't had to deal with seeing the twin she'd killed the week after she wore his face for a few days had her feeling pretty relieved today. And feeling guilty for feeling relieved.

Basically, feelings were complicated.

With all the dead people gone and everyone here left to deal with wherever that left them, the DJ was playing a lot of upbeat music and drinks were 25% off because sometimes people just needed to get their minds off things with obnoxious peppy music and alcohol.

Caritas, Sunday

[shagthis.livejournal.com]

Yesterday he'd drowned his sorrows in beer. Seeing as that had gone fairly well, today he was also drowning his sorrows in beer.

And Jam Jams.

God bless convenience stores located on multi-dimensional nexuses.

Caritas was open, and maybe if you were lucky Jake would share some cookies with you.

The Boards, Sunday

[furnaceface]

Jono's head hadn't been screwed on quite properly since the whole ordeal with the dead people, so his casting for Frank had been put off until a little later in the day than he'd expected. And who could blame him, really? He'd had a dead great-granddad of his own to deal with, and, while they'd parted on good terms (and Jono had been handwavily told that one of his relatives was proud of him for possibly the first time in his life), he was still... not quite feeling it, today.

Still, it was only early in the afternoon by the time he put up the cast and crew listing, and then, feeling more or less accomplished for the day, he sat himself down in the lobby with a guitar and just let himself lose himself in his music. That was a good plan, right? Right.

The Boards bulletin board today read:

The Consequence of Being Frank
Cast:
Mr. John Worthing, J.P. - Karina Lyle
Mr. Algernon Moncrieff - Karla DiGlacia
The Rev. Canon Chasuble, D.Dt - April Ludgate
Merriman - Natalie Adams
Lane - Zhari
Lady Bracknell - Monsieur Lorem Ipsum d'Efferton
The Hon. Gwendolen Fairfax - Aino Minako
Miss Cecily Cardew - Juliet Darling
Miss Prism - Elizabeth Bennet

Crew:
Director - Jonothon Starsmore
Assistant Director - Elizabeth Bennet
Stage Manager - Billy Kaplan
Piano - Natalie Adams
Queen of the Director's Coffee and Other Very Important Things - Kenzi

Yep. Totally accomplished.

[OOC: Open with OCD within to react to the cast listing!]

Demon Marcus, Sunday

[myownface]

So, Sparkle hadn't had anyone come to visit him this week. And for that, he was happy. Anyone that he'd lost... he didn't want to see. Screw that noise.

And he was going to stick to that story if anyone asked, too. Because getting the truth about anything out of Sparkle was like pulling teeth, and even if someone did yank out a few of his molars, he probably still wouldn't talk.

For his shift today, he was trying to see how many pencils he could stick into the ceiling, while laying on his back across the counter. Because this was a classy clothing establishment, and Sparkle was all class.

[Open and OCD-free! Why do I constantly forget it is Sunday I ask you?]