Groovy Tunes, Saturday

[furnaceface]

Jonothon had woken up yesterday, taken one look at the world at large (by way of checking thew news on his phone), had said, //Oh, fuck this,// and had gone back to bed. For the whole day. Because it wasn't like there was anything he needed to be upright and functional for anyway.

That everybody was stuck telling the truth, therefore, had flown right over his head.

Today he was a bit more with-it, making his way in to the shop in order to tidy up a few shelves, place a few orders, and otherwise just sort of mull about, looking official or something. Or as official as a man wearing leather and spilling gouts of flame into the air could possibly look, anyway. It was going to be a work in progress for a while.

[OOC: Open! OCD-freeee.]

The park, Saturday

[voiceoverdue]

After radio, Cecil found his luggage (it hadn't wandered far) and headed for a walk. He really needed to find a place to stay, but all the portal travel and everything was a bit hectic, and some time to just sit seemed nice.

So, he found a bench in the park, dropped his things nearby, and set about watching the ducks. Oo, there was quite a bit of void up there! Maybe he'd do some screaming into it later.


[Open!]