Caritas- Tuesday

[throughaphase]

So Derek had taken Kitty shopping for more presentable clothes, and that was fine, and she actually liked what he picked out, and she really would wear them... next week. This was the last week before classes and also she had a bit of a rebellious streak and also she'd told Clint she would do this, so naturally that meant tonight she was working in leather pants and a bustier.

Which was probably not the best outfit for going over things from yesterday to see how bad the discrepancies were from last night, but oh well.

Fandom Post Office, July 2 (Tuesday)

[filleauloup]

Éponine hadn't meant to bring Alouette in to work with her again this week, but she hadn't been exaggerating by much when she'd said her cat had already learned how to guilt her into it by making good use of wide-eyed, pitiful expressions. (She thought it was probably only fair, since God knew she'd learned years ago how to play on people's sympathy to get a few meals or a place to sleep for the night.)

So once again today, there was a kitten who'd been given free rein of the post office and, when she wasn't curled up and sleeping in a sunbeam, was scampering about, pouncing on dustbunnies and occasionally Éponine's feet.

Éponine, for her part, had a book in her hand and was perched on the counter where she could keep an eye on Alouette, kicking one foot idly back and forth, lips moving silently as she read.

[OOC: Open post office, work shifts available!]

Atlas Gym, Tuesday

[so_hawkward]

Clint had fully intended to work out and deal with administrative crap today, but mail had been piling up and something was wonky with one of the indoor pool's filters and Clint was pretty sure if he left everything for Natasha he'd get a deathglare that would actually turn him to stone (what, she was totally capable of that) so he was at the main desk, twirling around in his chair as he sat on hold with the pool people. At least their hold music wasn't too terrible.

[Open!]

Luke's, Tuesday, 7/02

[justbeingbay]

Bay barely noticed what the guys in the kitchen were up to today, though whatever it was, it sounded like it was probably going to leave a stain. She was preoccupied: As soon as she left work today, she was supposed to cab it to the airport to go back to Kansas City for the holiday. (She didn't think her parents would take the suggestion of a portal very well.) The thing was, the promise of a couple days of fireworks and snarking at Toby by the country club pool had gotten more complicated when she realized Regina was getting out of rehab.

It shouldn't be complicated, seeing her long-lost biological mom again. But somehow it was.

Today's menu board, decorated by multicolored sketches of fireworks, read:

Welcome to Luke's!
Firecracker chicken wings
Macaroni salad
Green apple sparkler

[OOC: OCD-free but wide open.]

The Arms Hotel Lobby, Tuesday

[montecito-east.livejournal.com]

Now that Mary had a new employee, she was hopeful that she would get past the basic chores of paying bills. Not that the bills weren't important, but she really wanted to revamp the hotel's marketing plan. And this was the perfect opportunity.

Until Gunther showed up with lots and lots of pies, wanting her opinion on his new recipes. Mary didn't get a lot done on the marketing, but at least Gunther now had a lot of new insights for his the cookbook he wanted to put together.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel
Today's Specials:
Herb and Cheese Pie
Shepherd's Pie
Banoffee Pie

MCA lobby, Tuesday evening

[cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com]

While Zayne was upstairs in his apartment, GG-85 was hard at work filing paperwork and... Doing whatever else needed doing in an apartment office the day after rent was due. Probably more paperwork.

While GG-85 was distracted, a gremlin snuck into the office, saw an oil canister that GG intended to use for its joints later on, and took a sip, expecting it to be coffee. The gremlin reacted the way you might expect, spitting the oil back into the canister and walking away.

Minutes later, its paperwork done, GG-85 picked up the gremlin-tainted oil and began to work its aching joints.

Oh what hilarity might unfurl shortly once the gremlin spit started to take dubious effect on the droid's programming?

[OOC: Primarily for one who knows who one is.]

The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Evening.

[icecoldfrost]

The music was... normal? Regular, popular music? There were no gremlins, no strangeness, and Tiny was keeping his own brand of weirdness to a minimum?

Emma was suspecting a pod person replaced the DJ, but until then, she'd let Tiny keep serving drinks while she did her hostessing gig, occasionally taking a break to take a spin on the dance floor.

The Devil's Nest is open, and the telepath is carding.