Luke's, Saturday

[vdistinctive]

Eliot hadn't slept well since Wednesday -- not that he'd been sleeping that well this last month or so in the first place -- so once he'd finished up some paperwork in the office at Luke's, he kicked the cook off the grill and started pan-frying up some potatoes.

And if he happened to be sipping a breakfast beer while he was at it, well. At least he was only sipping it.

Today's specials
Country breakfast casserole
Oklahoma cheese grits
Home fries

Luke's was open.

The Perk, Saturday Morning

[future_sandworm]

What did you do when your father returned from the dead? They had agreed not to spend this short time arguing about the choices they both had made, but that left them with the fact that they didn't know each other. Oh, Leto knew his father's memories, but that was not the same as knowing him as a father, or rather the man who had never been a father to him. Paul Atreides didn't know his son at all, and his blindness prevented him from even seeing him.

In this situation clearly the best choice was to take his father to the Perk and offer him coffee and cake. Because what else could he do?

[Open for Perk visits of course, and welcome to talk to the former and current Emperors of the Known Universe.]

The Imperial Junke Yard, Saturday morning

[intotheout]

Tip had been going out for donuts, but then she ran into the Chief on the way, and after a little bit of her denying that he was anything more than a particularly vivid figment of her imagination, the donut run had turned into a "show the Chief everything about Fandom" run.

Which, since he'd been the junkman in Roswell hiding an actual junked spaceship, started with a trip to Fandom's junkyard full of bits of spaceships.

"I know," Tip said, grinning from ear to ear. "It needs more tin foil, right?"

[ooc: mostly for the guest, but also open for anyone else who might have a reason to hang out in the junkyard!]

The Park, Saturday Afternoon

[uncertain_dume]

Kanan had been anxious. All week, he'd been anxious, but today, that had been ramped up a few extra notches. And the hell of it was, he couldn't really put a finger on why. Or, rather, he could, but he was a man in denial. A Force-sensitive man in denial, who had been having dreams for days and was trying not to think too hard about them.

It wasn't anything personal to the person he'd been dreaming about. He was just still horrible at re-treading certain aspects of his past, and those dreams had run rampant all over those.

So he'd gone to the park, and he'd brought his dog, who was now curled up and having a nap at his feet, while he sat on a park bench and... well... meditated. And if he was so intent on those meditations that he either failed to notice or care when the cold rain started to fall and the dog made his way under the bench in order to keep dry, well...

He was anxious, okay?

[OOC: Open park is open! In the rain.]

Caritas, Saturday Evening

[newroutines]

There was a weird vibe on the island today.

No, not just because the zombies were still playing songs from their greatest hits CD. No, a different kind of weird vibe. Nothing that seemed to be touching Mike personally, but still.

He was behind the bar, feeling the randomest desire to fill up his time and keep himself occupied by texting. Except he didn't actually have anyone to text.

Maybe he'd send Derek updates on the house.

[ooc: Open, no OCD for I am lazy.]