The Perk- Friday morning

[throughaphase]

For whatever reason, it was taking a lot to fully wake up this morning. Coffee at home hadn't done any good, so Kitty had decided to bring her laptop down to the Perk, where at least their coffee was also filled with insane amounts of sugar and that might be helpful.

So if you walked in and saw Kitty looking blankly at webpages while holding an extra large cup of coffee that seemed to be attached to her hand... that would be why.


[9 am and I'm done with my work. So bored, the post is so open, so help me be entertained.]

The Devil's Nest, Friday Evening

[allie-vamp.livejournal.com]

As was usual on a Friday night, Allie had her nose buried in a book. Not just any book, but one recommended by the girl at the used book store. She'd said Blooms in the Basement was a classic. Classic what Allie wanted to know, because seriously...

Tiny and the DJ were highly amused by her muttered commentary as she turned the pages avidly.

[OCD free!]

Book Haven, Friday

[fewer_explosions]

Today, Liara was prepared. She had been fully briefed on how to occupy her current position, she was on time, and she had not lost herself in yet another tome on human archaeology - a mean feat, as the book shop turned out to have several that she hadn't read yet.

About an hour into her shift, she was terribly bored, her eyes kept darting towards the book, and she had fidgeted so much that one of her sleeves had frayed. Sigh. "This will not do," she muttered to herself.

Fifteen minutes later, she picked up a broom and started cleaning.

[[ open ]]

The Park, Friday Afternoon

[jaegerborn.livejournal.com]

Contrary to what anyone might think, Chuck didn't actually live at the gym. Or the salle. Just... most of the time. And when he got out, he didn't waste all his time drinking (he wasn't Uncle Scott), either. No, in fact, the best part of his day - not that he'd ever be enough of a sap to admit it - was this: out in the park, walking Max, enjoying the quiet.

And the dog. (Sometimes it shat or pissed on something, and Chuck was still, somewhere under that tough exterior, a fifteen-year-old boy.)

In fact, by the time he was about ten minutes into his walk, Chuck was almost smiling. His expression was peaceful, and even his body language was a bit less over-the-top macho than it usually was. Walkies were the best times-- on that, both he and Max were agreed.

[[ expecting one, but open! ]]