Demon Marcus, Sunday

[myownface]

Some days, Sparkle woke up with something at least vaguely approaching 'work ethic.' That hadn't been the case this week so much as he was just sick and tired of smoking in his room and glowering at walls, and cigarette money ran out quickly and he could only steal so much from the handful of homes around the island that hadn't realized he was sneaking in and running off with useless shit just yet.

So today he was at work, getting out and away from his room, earning a more or less honest living, sorting through the clothes, and being the most surly damn clothing store clerk he could possibly be.

Which mostly meant he was smoking on the job and hoarding all the yellow socks to himself like some punk-haired, leather-clad, raccoon-eyed Canadian dragon. He wasn't sitting on them, but they were his. If you wanted yellow socks today, you were shit out of luck.

The clothing store is actually open today. Good luck to any confused newbies looking to actually fit in or something.

[Open, OCD-freeeee.]

The Beach [Sunday afternoon into evening]

[sith_happened]

Anakin came to the school because he'd been called about a delivery to his office. It turned out to be crates full cinnamon buns, Wookiee cookies, and sausages.

So. Many. Sausages.

Anakin didn't remember ordering any of this stuff, and there was enough of it to feed dozens, so there was now an impromptu beach party going on, complete with cantina music, as Anakin cooked up all the food.

Watch out for the way the sun glared off of the water--it was a little lens-flarey.

[OOC: Happy Star Wars Day! Couldn't help myself...aaand details of the Anakin-Ender conversation NFB.]

Atlas Gym, Sunday

[brainfreediet.livejournal.com]

It was Flash's first day of work at his new job. He was using his artificial legs, both to help him get around a little more easily and also to make it possible to work out at the punching bag during down time. His time as a boxer was one of his favorite jobs, after all, especially since it was relatively safe compared to being a superhero, a soldier, or a high school gym teacher. Working a bag like this was a good reminder of that. Even if he didn't exactly have the best footwork anymore.

Anyway, if you needed help, Flash was either at the punching bag or at the desk. Take your pick!

[OOC: Flash's artificial legs are shiny grey super-plastic prosthetics created by Avengers super-scientists. But they're just really well designed prosthetic. They're visible from his shorts to his shoes.

Anyway, open gym!]

Stark Industries, Sunday

[craftyladyparts.livejournal.com]

After radio today, Jessica felt the need to get into some nitty gritty work. Between any other repairs people might need, she was focusing on working on some new communicators that had been, ahem, donated from a SHIELD supply locker. The SHIELD earpiece she had was fine, but it was slightly uncomfortable and she wanted something that she could rely on for non-SHIELD missions. If she was going to really do anything with the team she formed against Roxxon and Director Chang was going to continue to drag her feet, she was absolutely going to need some off-the-books tech. So first she needed to jailbreak these comms, then she was going to have to make sure there weren't any other tracking devices in them, and so on.

Good times, good times.

the preserve: sunday afternoon

[halfbad.livejournal.com]

He'd still been alive when he'd woken up.

There was quiet in his head and sun on his face when he'd finally opened his eyes. Nathan had stayed sprawled on the comfy bed of moss and grass, eyes taking in the unfamiliar trees and the clouds passing through the sky. It wasn't Wales but he was alive and that was all he could ask for right now.

Well, maybe being alive and having Gabriel back. He'd take that too. With a groan, Nathan sat up and scooted back to comfortably fit himself against a large tree. He finally took off the gloves and scarf and sunglasses. The inky black of the tattoos on his wrist and finger were still there. The journey across oceans hadn't dulled that and he wondered if the magic contained in the tattoos would somehow allow the Hunters to track him.

Nathan rubbed his scarred wrist slowly and closed his eyes, breathing in the air. He'd have to figure out a way to get a change of clothes and some food. He had little money when he'd gone into the portal and figured that getting a job was right out. He didn't want anything to feel too permanent. There seemed to be plenty of people to nick things from and sell later on. He'd find a few fain and steal some wallets and be done with the need for money temporarily.

Right now, Nathan felt the strongest he'd felt in a very long time. It was easy to forget that Rose was dead, the Fairborn was lost, Gabriel was missing, and his father was out there, watching and judging. Nathan stretched his legs out and let the sun warm him.

[Open should anyone be out in the Preserve, of course]