Freedom Arms | Saturday

[notgetkilled]

Work hadn't been much of a priority for Bellamy lately. With Clarke leaving, he'd stepped up his attempts to get home and had failed every single time. She'd left and she'd left him behind and wasn't that how it always went? He didn't have Octavia and now he didn't have his one connection to his home.

Work was something to distract him so he was here today, paging through a magazine and trying not to act as surly as he felt.

[Open! No OCD]

Groovy Tunes, Saturday

[furnaceface]

//I bloody well swear, I'm going to blow you to kingdom come one of these days,// Jonothon muttered, casting an irritated look across the music shop at the stereo. It had been playing best of albums today of its own accord, which had been fine earlier in the day, when it had played Bowie, Metallica, Ella Fitzgerald, and Joni Mitchell as he stocked the shelves. He'd given it a side-eye once it had started to veer into slightly more chirpy territory, though he could cope with Spice Girls or Vitamin C, and even Britney was... not to his taste, but was at least tolerable if it was only the one album. He recognized that sometimes he had to take the bubblegum in stride. He did own a music shop, after all.

But then it started playing the kids' music. And while he could handle the best of Raffi and really didn't mind the best Disney Villain songs as they played through, once the soundtrack for the shop started shifting to slightly more vapid music intended for preschoolers and starring brightly-costumed ensemble casts involving creepy television-hybrid babies and purple dinosaurs, he was looking for a way to get the stereo to shut off and stay that way.

Unplugging it wasn't working. Because of course it wasn't. Why would anything on the island ever do something like make things easy for him, after all?

The Groovy Tunes was open, but beware the exuberant children's music and the irate-looking mutant with smoke curling up around the sides of his face come the end of his shift.

[OOC: Open, and flying without OCD today!]

Roof of Ching Tai, Saturday evening

[thisguyright.livejournal.com]

You know why bootjets were fun? You could take your takeout and just fly up to the roof to eat. Sure it kind of cold. Sure it was probably suspicious, just sitting around in a costume, eating. But you know what? There was nothing illegal going on over here.

A block away, where a thrown boomerang was using sonar to map out the bank through the roof? Okay, that was a different story. But that was a whole block away, and anyone could have thrown that. It's not like boomerangs were rare things. Kids played with them all the time! And anyway, it was laying down, so it's not like anyone would even see it. Right, squirrels? You saw nothing. There was some rum and extra Chinese food to help buy that silence.

So Boomerang was just hanging out on a rooftop, a whole block away from anything even remotely illegal, eating Chinese food for a while. Not suspicious at all!

[OOC: Open for anyone who may be wandering on the ground or the rooftops! And squirrels? Seriously, you saw nothing on the bank roof. Take your bribe.]

Caritas, Saturday Evening

[newroutines]

For some reason, the zombie band was intent on playing Run the World (Girls) repeatedly tonight. It had Mike baffled. At least usually they tended to be stuck on a particular band for a night, instead of just one song.

"Look, I love a bit of Bey just as much as the next guy," he tried, while he was going past the stage, "but I really don't get what kind of uh, statement you're trying to make here."

The zombies kept playing. Mike shook his head.

[ooc: No ocd!]