The Boards, Thursday

[furnaceface]

Jono wasn't teaching, this semester.

That was a weird enough thought to him that he needed to think it again as he stepped into the Boards and took a look around the lobby. He wasn't teaching this semester. Not here, anyway. They still called him in for the odd class at the Jean Grey School, but he'd made certain Logan got the memo that he was going to want some time to himself for things like 'settling into married life,' (which Logan had snorted at, because if Jono hadn't been settled in after basically living with Hannibal for almost two years now, he never would), and 'just getting my life sorted out' (which Logan could appreciate, because nine out of ten mutants would kill for the opportunity to do that).

So, Jono was taking a break. Which, of course, meant that he immediately had to find something else with which to fill up all his spare time with stress. He had the Groovy Tunes already, the Boards had been sitting stagnant since forever, he wasn't playing superhero or soldier or diplomat or assassin these days and he wasn't running around like a headless chicken trying to organize a wedding that he'd given up on ever happening, because he was already married. Out of all of those, he wasn't actually in any hurry to pull on the tights or go to war again, and there was only so much more he could do at the Groovy Tunes. But the Boards?

He'd missed the Boards. And he'd been half chewing on the idea of bringing the place back to life anyway. That was what the Improv class at the school had been about last semester, after all, and while he wasn't quite up for the idea of directing another play, that didn't mean there weren't options. It had been a few years since a winter showcase, after all. Or maybe he could bring in somebody to put on a concert here. It wasn't as though he didn't know a good many talented musicians thanks to this place.

But first thing was first. Before he could start to figure out where to go from here, Jono had to go through his backlog of mail.

Sigh.

[OOC: Yep, back to the Boards with this guy. And I mean it this time. Open Boards are open! There's even a light on and everything!]

Post office, Thursday

[intotheout]

The post office was weirdly quiet today. Or, Tip supposed, it was actually normally quiet, but contrasted so sharply to the December holiday rush that it seemed weird. Either way, she had a lot of time to think about the man she'd met coming into town yesterday and what it might mean for her that there was a guy wandering around town now with a gun who was born and raised in an era that really didn't think people who looked like her were actual people.

It wasn't a fun thought. He hadn't gotten mad when she'd gotten mad at him, which she figured was a good sign, and he hadn't gotten defensive at all or even argued with her when she told him that the world was integrated now. She'd honestly barely even noticed his thing about being a 'hired gun' until she'd gotten back to the dorms and spent the night obsessively going over the whole conversation in her head. Still, it was going to stick with her for awhile.

So she was spending her shift at the post office looking up 19th century America on her phone. That was an extremely broad topic, and she kind of wished she'd asked Faraday for a specific year. At least she had plenty of time to read right now.

[Open]

Luke's, Thursday Afternoon

[geniuswithasmartphone]

Hardison hadn't exactly been avoiding Luke's for the past few weeks as he had been...coming up with excellent reasons not to go to there. Which was totally different for reasons he didn't have to explain to you, thank you very much. But the island was getting chilly and he hadn't been able to resist the siren song of the Special's Board after a few hours of wandering around, trying to catch enough pocket monsters to be able to evolve one of the Santa-hatted ones he had.

Today's Specials
Erwtensoep (Dutch pea soup)
Honey Buttermilk Bread
Caramel Mocha Coffee

Hardison was going to have a pleasant afternoon dunking bread into his pea soup and sometimes startling at random noises in the diner.

[Luke's is open, no OCD]