The Perk | Sunday Afternoon

[notgetkilled]

Yesterday's nightmares were a thing of the past. Bellamy had slept fairly soundly last night which meant he'd gotten up in time to take several hours this morning to search the perimeter of this island. He found nothing, no tears, no holes, no caves, nothing that led him back to his people, his sister.

Instead of depressing him, it'd just pissed him off. He'd gone back to his apartment, sweaty and dirty, to shower before leaving once again. Sitting down near the window and drinking something warm didn't really help his anger but he knew if he stayed inside his apartment, he'd probably destroy and he didn't need Wash lecturing him about that.

So, he'd sit here and brood.

[Place/post are open]

The Park, Sunday late afternoon

[craftyladyparts.livejournal.com]

Jessica had a notepad out as she sat by the duck pond. She was great at planning and strategy, but invading a place that people called "Battleworld" and was ruled by a godlike Doctor Doom? That wa a few steps beyond anything she had done before.

So here she was, watching some ducks and a goose playing a game they had learned recently in which they chased each other around. It was weird, it was calming, and it was completely distracting, because they clearly didn't understand the actual rules. It was chaos! Jessica had half a mind to try to teach them, but the other half of her mind reminded her that she came here to think, not to teach waterfowl to play children's games that she had never technically played herself.

That worked to recenter herself before the goose started spitting food at the ducks. It was so weird.

[OOC: A tribute to last weekend's game. Open!]

Demon Marcus, Sunday

[myownface]

So... Sparkle had a place to stay now that wasn't Hannibal's spare room and didn't involve squatting in the back room of a place he still wasn't super certain he actually worked at yet. Which seemed like it was a step going in the right direction. Right? That was better than being a questionably homeless fugitive?

... Not that they knew he was a fugitive yet, back in Ontario. Hannibal was still acting as his surety, he was pretty sure, and time ticked by a little slower in his own reality for whatever reason, and...

Everything was sort of a mess.

A lot.

Sighing, Sparkle set about to going through the drawers by the cash register to see if there was any indication as to who the hell actually ran this place.

So far? Nobody. Ah, this island.

[OOC: Open, no OCD!]