The Magic Box, Sunday, July 20

[not_every_mage]

The shop was clean and warm today, and smelled vaguely of earth and dried herbs. Anders was comfortable: Not only was it homey, but the shop's return to normalcy made him absolutely certain no one was going to ask him to sing today.

He spent most of his day putting the shelves of spell supplies in order, frequently pausing to check a fat encyclopedia for more information on things he hadn't heard of. It amazed him, how many plants were different here from at home. He had no idea how their magic worked when they didn't even have elfsroot.

[OOC: Open shop, no OCD!]

Portalocity Office, Sunday

[not_a_whiner]

Kaidan received the call at the office.

Probably a good thing. He wasn't sure he would've made it to the office if he'd gotten it at home.

"All of our data points to the Normandy disappearing through the Omega-4 Relay," the very nice young Lieutenant on the other side of the line repeated. "I'm sorry, Major, that's all we've got."

Kaidan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah. Thank you, Lieutenant. For letting me know."

"Of course, sir. Lieutenant Foley out."

He sank back in his chair and blew out a... fuck, he didn't even know if it was a sigh or not. It was that or smash something, and that'd... that'd end badly. Even if he really wanted to. Fuck. Just had to-- yeah.

[[ open; i had to get around to it sometime. ]]

Stark Industries, Sunday

[craftyladyparts.livejournal.com]

After radio and dropping off her stuff at the dorms for the big move-back-in Jessica was at work.

Where there was nothing to do today.

Apparently either nobody was having any electronics problems at all or it was a prank to bore her. Well screw you, lack of work. Jessica had 2048 on her phone and she just discovered that she could actually get up to 4096. That was a game changer. Maybe she could manage 8192 next!

Atlas Gym, Sunday

[brainfreediet.livejournal.com]

Things were back to normal for Flash and he couldn't be happier about it. Well, okay, maybe he could. He could have a million dollars and a supermodel wife. But aside from that, things weren't too bad. Even doing some paperwork at the desk instead of doing any actual exercise didn't seem that bad right now.

The Beach, after sunset

[allie-vamp.livejournal.com]

Looking for something different to do, Allie had made a few calls, picked up a cooler of drinks and headed towards the beach.

Yes it was dark. But at least no one would have to worry about sunscreen.

The Park [Sunday Afternoon]

[teashopconman.livejournal.com]

Hatter had dreamed of Wonderland last night. It was like his home was taunting him, telling him that he'd made the wrong decision to jump through the Looking Glass and now he was cut off and disconnected from everything he'd been familiar with.

The dream had left him unsettled and almost homesick but he was excellent at repressing that sort of thing and he had some other methods of dealing with any sort of bad feelings. After mixing himself a nice tea, he'd decided to get out of his flat for a bit. The weather was warm but not stifling so and the flamingos in the park were a bit like home, weren't they?

Sure, they didn't fly but that didn't matter. Hatter didn't really want to go flying anyway. He took a seat on a bench, legs stretched out in front of him. He'd picked up a copy of the local post and was paging through it idly.

It gave him something to do and get his mind on that wasn't Wonderland and home and his neglected tea shop.

[Open place and post]

The beach, Sunday afternoon

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

The sound of waves rolling in was something he was starting to increasingly appreciate. It had a way of calming the mind, and had been a relief from the moans and voices on Ingvar island. Ichabod certainly didn't believe in superstitions like ghosts at home, but since this place operated by different rules, it seemed, he wasn't entirely sure now. Or rather, he had come to terms with using the word 'haunted'.

But today they had moved back to the dorms, which were no longer infested. This, among other reasons, put Ichabod in a good mood, as he leisurely walked along the edge of the water, his coat slung across his shoulder.

Then he took another step and the world changed.

Why has he so much smaller? Why did walking suddenly feel awkward? Ichabod let out a noise which sounded nothing like his voice and flapped his wings -- wings? -- and rose into the air.

So he could fly? He was a bird? Bewildered, he landed on a rock. blinking slowly. What was he to do?

[Ichabod is now an owl, as I'm going on vacation. Expecting one, but open beach.]