Furnado Animal Shelter, Sunday

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

April hadn't been that freaked out by the deafness, because it seemed like typical Fandom stuff, and if anyone could deal with losing one of their senses for a few hours, it was probably April. At least it hadn't been touch or taste, which were obviously the most important ones.

But she was still faintly pleased when she arrived at the shelter to hear a variety of noises, including panting, the scratching of paws against cages, and in the case of Maurice the beagle, an excited whine. April fed all the dogs and changed their water, then plopped behind the counter and jammed an earbud in her ear, cranking up the Neutral Milk Hotel on her iPod. Just to get the full auditory experience.

[[only really around for the next couple of hours, but open, yeah.]]

Taste of Thai- Sunday evening

[throughaphase]

Clint and Kitty had made it to their first anniversary, officially. No more rounding up to it. Part of Kitty thought she shouldn't be surprised, since they were actually pretty good at dealing with things together, but when the last year had involved a variety of transformations, one psycho religious fanatic, tracksuited bros, a nightmare dungeon, fangirl-ordered cheating, freaking Madripoor, a sharknado and now winged vampires, among other things, she thought they should get to pat themselves on the back. And also, be amazed that they were still alive.

So tonight they were going to have night out, which meant Clint got her in a dress that really could have been longer except what was the fun in that, and they could have a nice normal date.

Albeit one where after the waitress took their orders, Kitty still said, "I'm reall glad nothing's trying to kill us today."


[For the fellow celebrator/ee!]

Demon Marcus, Sunday

[myownface]

Yesterday, Sparkle had woken up to absolute silence, noticed the ravening bird-monsters, said, "Nope," and had retreated back to the dorms with his cat, where he barricaded himself in his room and played Tetris for the rest of the day on an old spinach-green-screened Gameboy he'd 'picked up' from a second-hand store in Baltimore.

All day.

Needless to say, he was a little antsy today. There wasn't even a shipment to unpack, so he was going to spend his shift just rearranging things. All the things. The scarves were now where the socks used to be, the socks were now where the bras used to be, and the bras...

Actually, Sparkle was going to kill some time by trying the bras on, too. So far, he was deciding that he looked much better as a b-cup than a d-cup. Fair enough. Even when the island turned him into a girl, he was pretty flat. Sparkle was pretty sure that was because the island was a jerk.

He'd stand by that forever, too.

[Open, OCD-free!]

Town Hall, Sunday

[nomeatvirgin.livejournal.com]

"It is nine PM," Ron said, "On a Sunday."

His assistant blinked. "Yes," she said, "It is."

"Why am I here?" he asked pointedly.

She held up a clipboard. "The previous mayor always oversaw our clean-up efforts," she said smoothly. "Our crew from the Department of Invasion Clean-Up will be here any moment now for your instructions--"

Ron frowned at her. "They are the Invasion Clean-Up Department," he said. "Let them clean up after the invasion." Beat. "Wait, do we fund this?"

"They're a part of Fandom municipal government, sir," she said. "Of course we do."

"Hm," Ron said.

"Sir?" she asked. "Is anything the matter?"

"You would think that there was some kind of company on this island that could take care of this," he said. "There must be a good deal of money in post-invasion clean-up. However, since we are currently holding the monopoly on such activities, we are directly responsible for undermining the free market."

The assistant sighed. "Clean-up crew arrives in thirty minutes," she said. "I'll order you some burgers."

"Hm," Ron said, sinking into his chair and glaring at her. He missed being deaf already.

[[ open! ]]

The Devil's Nest- Sunday

[solo_sword]

Yesterday's fighting had given Jaina a few new cuts and bruises, though the one on her arm was the really annoying one. She'd slapped a bacta patch on it, which meant it was starting to itch from healing already, but still hurt just enough that she was trying to do things with her left arm.

Which was what she might have to use to smack the DJ if he didn't stop playing Monster Mash in August, she didn't care if it'd been appropriate yesterday.

The Perk, Sunday afternoon

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

Yesterday had been a pretty busy day, filled with long hours, all kinds of interesting issues, and many fresh bruises that were conveniently concealed underneath Bruce's clothes. He hadn't gone to sleep until after the wakwaks were off the island, and he'd been working all day up until that point. So today, he slept until 2 PM and made his way out to the Perk for some coffee shortly afterwards.

He had a tablet out so he could catch up on the business news from his world as he chatted up the barista and drank some coffee, because Bruce was a multitasker. A very tired multi-tasker who was actually somewhat thankful for the practice run.

[OOC: Open for all your perky needs!]