Trooper Station: Tuesday

[fracknotfrak.livejournal.com]

After a month of avoiding phone calls from crazed citizens who can't handle the yuletide weirdness that Fandom provides, Vic was enjoying the quiet lull currently going on at the island.

And forcing Ralph to handle all the paperwork from said crazy yuletide weirdness.

So anyone entering in the station would just find Vic enjoying a cup of coffee with relative peace and quiet.

Caritas- Tuesday

[throughaphase]

So Kitty had popped over to Westchester pretty much to say hi for the holidays and do presents and all, since classes weren't in session there at the moment, and today she was back, planning for another holiday. Because someone (her) had started considering New Year's plans and anyway now there was gonna be a party here and she had herself prepping for it while she had Tino putting flyers out everywhere.

Oops, impromptu party.

[Yeah so that's happening. It'll go up early tomorrow!]

JGoB's, Tuesday Morning

[suitably_heroic]

It'd been a long couple of days, full of getting bumped on the head, sand, lightsabering things, more sand, blasting things, even more sand, some rocks, and a bunch of now-free slaves. Sadly, not a lot of evidence that would stick to Czerka, but then that was Czerka, wasn't it? As far as Atton knew, the entire galaxy knew they were crooked and just couldn't quite prove it.

At least one of the folks on board had been Force sensitive. Mical had offered to take it from there - after one very long day - and Atton had been happy to let him. He was tired, sore, and he was pretty sure he had several sunburns all over.

The worst thing was that his pizza leftovers were probably inedible by now. Which sucked. Atton had this inkling his appetite had gotten worse since he'd started working on his other talents, and he was starving. Most of the restaurants were pretty far, though, and the supermarket was too much work. All that picking stuff out and then going back and putting them on a fire and eugh. And takeout? That would take time.

Instead, he sat down at a table at JGoB's and ordered a pie. An entire one; he didn't really care what flavor.

As the server put the giant thing full of fruit and sugar down in front of him, all he thought was suck it, Sparkle, I eat what I want.

Sometimes it was the tiny things.

[[ open! ]]

Town Hall, Tuesday

[fjordicswagger]

"Oh, you're here!" Bright Eyes chirped.

"Don't get all excited," Tamsin snapped, slamming the door shut behind her. And then again, just to make her point. "I got your papers back for you." She hurled the folder at Bright Eyes. Or what was left of it, anyway.

"I think a cat peed on it," she added. "I don't know, I threw it in the garbage."

She spun on her heel.

The folder hit her in the back of the head. "What the fu-- Oh, you have balls, I'll give you that."

Though when she looked back, Bright Eyes looked like she'd just been caught shitting the bed, and only biting down on her bottom lip was keeping her from yelling out an apology. Tamsin snarled. "You keep trying this, I'm going to kick you so hard in those balls they shoot up through your cooch and come out that mouth of yours."

"I told you, the paperwork has already been filed," Bright Eyes said plaintively.

Tamsin rolled her eyes. "If Mustache Boy's last words were so important to you, why not have an actual election? Find someone who actually wants the job."

Bright Eyes blinked, then started shaking her head rapidly. "Nooooo," she said, "Noooooo, we can't do that. Not after the last three times. It was bad. Volcanoes, Lava Gods, the Isle of IKEA--"

"Oh god, are you pouting?" Tamsin asked. Oh god, she was.

"It doesn't have to be permanent," Bright Eyes squeaked. "Please?"

Tamsin groaned. "You're pathetic."

[[ ocd upcoming..., open ]]