The Arms Hotel, Saturday

[gunslingerpose]

Less than a week out from Thanksgiving now, and Nikolai was finding himself almost feeling homesick. Almost. He'd been out late last night, though, just walking around Baltimore, getting his fix of the city nightlife to make up for the small-town living that he'd been doing for the past few months now.

... And eying motorcycles at a dealership, making a mental note to check one out during business hours, sometime. It had been way too damn long since he'd sat on a bike.

Today, he was poking around the internet, since business seemed to be fairly slow. Looking at bikes, checking to see if there was maybe some sort of holiday deal he could be taking advantage of. That sort of thing.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel!
Today's Specials:
Anything but Cheerios


[Open, OCD-free, I'm trapped in the sparkle mines for most of the day making holiday ornaments with my dad. Send help.]

Curiosities, Oddities, and Antiques - Saturday

[voiceoverdue]

Cecil showed up for work on time, then spent fifteen minutes waiting for the heat and his two space heaters to warm the place up enough to start pulling off layers.

He had a lot of layers.

So did Foucault; he might have fluff-that-was-almost-feathers on his body, but Cecil didn't think his neck and legs could be very warm, so there was a profusion of leg warmers around both. Luckily, he was getting big enough they sort of fit.

But half an hour later, Cecil was warmly ensconced behind the counter and Foucault was tunneled into the pet bed and Not Coming Out, and the shop was open.

After looking at the new arrivals and separating out Dr. Girlfriend's stuff for her, Cecil made a sign for the window:

Just arrived:
Bavarian cuckoo clocks!

Personally, he preferred the shrunken heads.

A Roof in the Abandoned Warehouse District, Saturday night

[craftyladyparts.livejournal.com]

She may have had a goal for some poorly-defined point in the near future (she couldn't schedule it as "As Soon As I Have Evidence" on her calendar app), but that didn't mean Spider-Woman couldn't take time to train. In fact, considering that she intended to make a trip home for Thanksgiving, it was probably a good idea to hit the rooftops hard tonight. But for training purposes, she brought up a tennis ball launching rig. Balls with be thrown at varying angles and varying speeds. It was up to her to smack or web the balls before they got past her and rained down onto the streets below.

Fortunately, she really did have good reflexes, or soft, yellow death would be attacking the sidewalks.

[OOC: Open to anyone who may be on the rooftops or just in the area or calling on the phone or making psychic contact or whatever.

Stark Industries | Saturday

[dollpocalypse]

Topher didn't have a whole lot to do today in the way of work - at least nothing that he actually felt like doing - so instead of sitting around all bored-like, he opted instead to spend his time trying to create a sonic wrench.

Would it be more productive to practice for his college interview? Definitely. But it was sonic wrench time.

Caritas, Saturday

[hatesmoststuff.livejournal.com]

Tino wasn't here today. April didn't mind that at all. Not being subjected to her coworker's noxious personality was always fun, even if it meant she had to do more of her job in his absence.

More of it than zero, anyway.

She was openly drinking beer with a straw, so it wasn't a hundred percent, that was for sure.