Furnado Animal Shelter, Tuesday

[puppy_fair]

So... one of the conditions of coming to the island was that Zack was going to have to work to earn his way, going forward. And he was fine by that. He'd been handed an address, and a key, and the ownership papers for the building, and the file he'd been given had said that everything else he was going to need would be in the building already. So, armed with a few scraps of paper and a key, he made his way along the streets with a sort of nostalgic familiarity, stopping outside the appropriate address and looking up at--

"No way."

He was going to have to send whatever Turk arranged for this a fruit basket or a kitten or something.

The next hour of his morning was spent being given the grand tour by one of the shelter's employees, squirming and wiggling every time he saw a particularly adorable critter that he wanted to cuddle up to. They assured him that this meant that he'd get on just fine here, and then left him to his own devices.

So, Furnado was open and under new management, and Zack was manning the front counter, hugging basically a whole litter of pitbull puppies and with a big old hound dog curled up and snoozing at his feet. Not a bad distraction from... everything else... if he did say so himself, really.

[OOC: Open! The puppy is in!]

Caritas- Tuesday

[throughaphase]

Kitty got into the bar today and found Tino conducting the zombies, who apparently were trying woodwinds today.

".....Okay, sure," Kitty said, heading behind the bar and wondering if there were earplugs around.

[Idk. Open, no OCD!]

Groovy Tunes, Tuesday

[tigerundercover]

Raven came running into work late, hyper, and smelling like meatballs. The stereo greeted her by playing Swedish punk.

"Ha," Raven said. "I haven't forgiven you for last week."

The stereo blithely played on, the not-entirely-sentient machinery equivalent of an innocent whistle.

[open!]

Magic Box, Tuesday

[livingartifact]

Jenkins was taking his time exploring the island. He'd checked into the hotel without incident, and managed to get Ezekiel to send along his suits with only a little bit of argument and bribery, and he'd spent most of yesterday trying to find any record he could from his own universe of gossip reporting squirrels, to no avail. Today, he was resigned to his surveilled-by-rodents state and once again venturing out to get the lay of this land he'd decided to call his new home.

Really, why with the stairs? These knees were immortal, but that didn't mean they liked all this climbing about.

He peered through a few shop windows without finding much of particular interest -- which was unfortunate, having now purchased a present for Cassandra, he was going to have to find at least a little something for each of the others if he didn't want them accusing him of playing favorites -- then happened upon the magic shop. He peered in, expecting an array of sleight of hand tricks and plastic wands, or perhaps mass-produced fetishes and dayglo dream catchers, and was startled to notice that many of the shop's wares were, in fact, magical in nature.

The door opened easily enough, though he didn't notice the "closed" sign in the window until after he'd walked in. No one seemed to be manning the place at all.

"Really," he muttered. "This is highly irresponsible."

He tracked down a phone number for the current owner of the shop by poking around behind the counter, and after what turned out to be a perfectly lovely and fruitful conversation with a pleasant enough young man, and rather a lot of insistence that Fandom just kind of did things sometimes, he found himself the new manager in residence.

"The Library likes tricks like these, too," he told the air. "I suppose this is your way of making me feel welcome." He tipped his head in a small bow. "Thank you."

He flipped the sign in the window over to "open" and went to go look through the records and work out just what this place had gotten him into.

[change of management handwaved with permission. Open shop!]