Luke's, Sunday

[uncertain_dume]

"Nghhnnnghn." Kanan leaned forward and kind of mashed his face into the counter at Luke's. "Hngh."

He'd had a little too much to drink last night at Peter's, and then after three hours and fifteen minutes of Titanic hell, he'd sort of staggered back to his own apartment and had some more. Now he wasn't completely sure if he was hung over or still at least a little bit drunk, but whatever it was he didn't like it, and he didn't actually want to be here today.

"So," Cookie said, wandering out of the kitchen for a moment to set a card down in front of him, "I guess this is a bad time to give you this?"

Kanan looked balefully at the cook, and then reached for the card. Squinted at it. Blinked and then leaned in to squint closer. At first glance it looked like all the rest of the Christmas cards that were littering the streets today, but this one clearly featured a picture of an elderly Sullustan woman sitting in a garden, a light dusting of snow around her, next to a large, rather lovely tree. He opened it up and smiled a little at the note, from Zaluna, talking about how she loved her new home, the quiet life she'd been given, and hoped that wherever they had gone, Hera was still keeping him in line. It was addressed to the both of them.

"Nah," he said, after reading it over a few more times. "It's never a bad time for this."

Today's Specials:
Confit Duck Leg with Flageolet Ragoût and Celeriac Mash
Beef Cheek and Butternut Broth in Sourdough
Pancakes

It wasn't that long before he was grumbling into the countertop again, mind. Were there any more cards waiting for him in there?

[OOC: Open!]

Demon Marcus, Sunday

[myownface]

Fandom.

Fandom, with its squeaky toys and powdered sugar. It wasn't fooling Sparkle for a minute. It was December. He'd been around the island long enough to know that December meant trouble, no matter how friendly the polar bears were or whatever. So he was making his way around the shop, securing stuff and making sure there were weapons behind the counter, just in case, before letting himself get distracted by whatever advent bullshit the island was throwing at them today.

Which, apparently, was cards. Festive, stupid freaking cards. Ugh, lay it on a little more thick, Fandom. It wasn't like any of them were for hi--

Huh. That one was for him. From Raine. Which was actually kind of nice. He didn't think she really thought about him unless he was showing up at her doorstep, after all. And there was a surprising number of other cards from people he'd met in homes, on the streets, even in juvie. He was sure the island was trying to tell him something, here.

The one that didn't have a message, was just signed From Carla, was the one that really caught him, though. He was kind of useless for the rest of the day after getting that one. Stupid island. Well played.

[OOC: Open!]

Groovy Tunes, Sunday

[furnaceface]

Jono stepped into a music shop that was up to his knees in holiday cards, and buried his face in his hand.

This was what happened when you ran with the X-Men. This mess, right here.

He said a few choice words to the cards, and then slogged through them to go grab a broom. Maybe instead of playing music today, he'd spend some time going through them, possibly even answering a few. He hadn't spoken to Lee in a while, after all, or Ange. The card from Doop was both entirely unexpected and predictably illegible. Sofia sent one, as did Barnell and Angel and the kids. There was even one from Paige in there. Which. Uh. Awkward, but appreciated. Not as awkward as the one from Gayle, which he was squinting at for a full ten minutes before setting it aside with the rest.

There were some from the students back at the Jean Grey School, too; Roxy, Broo, Evan, hell, even Santo, which made Jono that much more convinced that this was the island pulling something, and not necessarily the result of some spontaneous card-writing campaign in Westchester. Still, he did pick up his phone and give Jubes a call anyway, partly to talk about the card and how weird this place was, and partly to catch up on what was going on in her life. Shogo was doing well, she told him. He was getting big now and starting to say words. She talked about her role at the school these days, managing to keep the heroing bits out of it, and, in a moment that caught Jono somewhat off-guard, started to cry when he asked her if Logan was driving them all barmy, yet.

Ah. Nobody had filled him in on that one. Maybe he really did need to start spending more time at the school, again.

Jubilee told him she wouldn't complain if he at least visited from time to time for more than just the occasional class, and he agreed to give that a try before she had to take off to clean something that Shogo had gotten into. They hung up, and Jono was left to contemplate the rest of the cards.

He would have sighed, if he could have. Instead he set to work, going through each card one by one and setting aside any that weren't for him. There were some for the little blue guys in here, a few for the Silence, which was a surprise. Even the stereo had some.

Who the hell liked the stereo that much, anyway?

[OOC: And open music shop, too!]

Caritas, Sunday

[suitably_heroic]

There were postcards everywhere, scattered throughout the building. The pretty images - mostly of snowy hilltops - formed a thick, slippery white layer on the floor.

Atton sighed. He'd de-postcarded the area he was standing in, but it was just a small circle around his feet. "Right," he said. "Tino, can you cl-- DON'T OPEN THAT!"

More postcards crashed into the room like a wave.

[[ open, but I'll be scarce. ]]

The Beach, Sunday Afternoon

[1000yearstoolate]

Seivarden had woken up with a hangover, and then the day had got worse.

Cards appeared from nowhere. They contained greetings from family, friends, lovers, even people she had only briefly served with. It would have been so sweet of them, if it wasn't for one thing.

They couldn't have sent them. They were all a thousand years dead.

Now Seivarden was standing at the beach, close to the edge of the water, taking the cards one by one and folding them into paper spaceships.

"Fuck this island!" she shouted, then threw a card into the sea.

More Radchaai curses followed, each accompanied by a card diving into the waves. Now and then she wiped her eyes with a gloved hand.

[Can be open.]