Streets of Fandom, Thursday

[14andseven]

Roland Chapman, founder and sole member of the Toronto Modern-Classical Troubadors Movement, as out on the streets as usual with his mandolin (which he lovingly named "Constance"), combining lyric poetry of the High Middle Ages with dramatic classical Spanish guitar stylings.

Occitan-Spanish fusion was absolutely the future of neo-indie-folk rock. You just haven't heard of it, yet.

[ooc: because sometimes your BDE participation ends up being a running joke. Open, with bouts of slowplay]

The Perk [Thursday morning]

[sith_happened]

With Chris at home screaming his way through getting his molars, there just wasn't a coffee big enough on the island for Anakin today.

"Yes, the large one," he told the skeptical barista. "In the bucket. Black."

Like his old helmet. Ahem.

[OOC: This is in no way life-as-RP. Rly. Open!]

Groovy Tunes, Thursday

[furnaceface]

One might ask how exactly a man without a head could possibly appreciate the music that was being played today at the Groovy Tunes.

... Okay, in fairness, there were probably a lot of questions that someone might ask first. Like, 'how are you not dead?' or 'what happened?' And, truth be told, Jono couldn't answer either of those questions, really. He wasn't dead because powers? There was a thing in the park? Only... he was coming to notice that there were moments where he seemed to lapse completely, where he couldn't quite remember any sort of rift. Or, somewhere around the edges of his consciousness, he remembered something else completely. In fact, when he'd come out of his room and headed downstairs to open the music shop, it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Of course he was opening the music shop. How was this week different from any other?

And as the day progressed, he found himself getting more and more frustrated by his occasional inability to really put a finger on what was the matter at all. Something was eating at him from the inside, leaving him feeling sick to his stomach, causing his flames to twist under his helmet in strange ways as the very core of his being tried to compensate for whatever the hell had happened to him over the weekend.

That meant that today was a Pearl Jam day. And Jono didn't even notice when he crossed the line from 'having to focus hard in order to be able to listen to the stereo through his cat's sense of hearing,' to 'simply being aware of the state of the entire room around him,' at all.

It was a Thursday. And something was the matter, though with increasing frequency throughout the day, Jono really wouldn't be able to tell you what that something was.

[Open! OCD-free!]

Caritas- Thursday

[throughaphase]

Kitty had been in her office working and hadn't planned on staying any longer than she needed to, but she was called out early when Tino came in for the night and complained that the bartop was fluffy.

And sure enough, the bar was covered in some white, soft, fluffy material. Neither of them had any idea how it got there or when it would go away, and Kitty decided to stay behind the bar for a while to see how this went when it had to be a surface for drinks.


[Open and OCD-free! I said I was gonna post literal fluff, and this for some unknown reason is the first thing that came to mind.]

Devil's Nest | Thursday Evening

[abakingmetaphor.livejournal.com]

Buffy was actually attempting to drink beer tonight. It may have been the lightest of light beer but she was attempting! Just ignore the face she made whenever she took a sip of it.

[OCD-free! So sleepy]