Groovy Tunes, Sunday

[furnaceface]

Jono was quiet today. Thoughtful. The Silence had wandered off overnight, which suited him well enough. It meant that the two minutes of quiet that he observed around eleven that morning were two minutes of his own making, not something forced upon him by some squirrelly little thing.

He had a lot to mull over on days like these, between losses back home and Karla's war. He'd contemplated simply not coming in to work today at all, but employees still needed to be paid, and he'd be just as likely to get lost in his own head here as anywhere, anyhow.

Considering all the things his head had been through over the course of his life, there was almost a sort of defiance simply in being able to sit in silence and remember.

[OOC: Open!]

Demon Marcus, Sunday

[myownface]

Funny thing about living in Fandom. While Sparkle had never really given two shits about Remembrance Day back in Canada - try to sit in silence for a minute while wearing a plastic poppy that other students mostly just used to stab one another with because kids were little assholes - time spent primarily in the company of soldiers had given him a healthy respect for the concept of 'Lest we Forget,' and seeing people close to him grieving sure as hell gave him an equally healthy appreciation for 'We Will Remember Them.'

He wasn't going to, like, hop a portal back to Toronto or anything for any Remembrance Day ceremonies. His healthy respect hadn't extended so far as risking being arrested. Ottawa would've had the big one, a crowd that was more than a little easy to lose himself in, but being close-to-home-but-not-home seemed like a shitty proposition unto itself. He briefly considered running across the Causeway for a Veterans Day thing, but the spirit of it really wasn't quite the same thing, either. So he'd just done the next best thing, gone in to work, and made himself a little poppy out of red and black felt to pin to his shirt. He'd take it off before he went home. Didn't figure Atton needed to see him get all weirdly Canadian-sentimental over something he'd come to appreciate at least partly because of him. But for now, while he was here? Yup. Poppy.

The weirdest thing about Fandom, sometimes, was that it actually gave him reasons to give a shit about how he couldn't go back home for things he'd never really cared about before.

[OOC: Open!]

Luke's, Sunday

[uncertain_dume]

Kanan came in to work today expecting... something. Some kind of shenanigan going on in the kitchen. Anything.

The fact that the kitchen staff was being perfectly well behaved was actually almost suspicious as a result. Kanan squinted around the corner into the kitchen at the cook, who just gave him a weird look and a, "What?"

"... Nothing."

Welcome To Luke's!
Today's Specials:
Pancake Breakfast free to Veterans Today!

Kanan wasn't going to ask how they were classifying 'veterans' on an island like this one. It was a nice gesture, anyway.

[OOC: Open!]

Covent Garden Flowers - Sunday

[mages_suck]

There were poppies everywhere. Big ones, little ones, small ones made of paper in a display on the counter. The entire store was going with a red and black theme. Fenris didn't really mind it but he had a sneaking suspicion the poppies weren't supposed to be running this rampant.

Hundreds of them had wound their stems into a wreath and hung in the window.

There were even some wound around the branches of other plants, stems out of water, blooming away with no sign of wilting.

The dogwoods were quiet. Solemn, even. He eyed them suspiciously.

Tickles was subdued as well. Fenris frowned and picked him up. "What's wrong? Are you sick? You were zooming around the place just last week." He peered at the little thing, refusing to acknowledge that he was worried. "No, not sick. Sad. Why are you sad?" Tickles, predictably, didn't answer. Fenris sighed and put the kittenwillow on his shoulder, where Tickles curled up against the side of his neck with a tiny, quiet purr. Fenris didn't understand, but that didn't prevent him from offering quiet comfort, one hand riding almost possessively on the kittenwillow's back.

He caught up a spray bottle and went to at least mist the stems of the stubborn poppies clinging to everything.

The wreath in the window - it was a symbol of something, even he could recognize that. It didn't seem festive, for all it was made of bright colors. He regarded it solemnly, reaching a tentative hand to touch it for a moment before he misted it down and took up his place behind the counter.

He'd brought a grater and a box of chunked-up soap base with him. Fenris spent some time grating the bits of soap into far smaller bits in the box. The quiet, repetitive motion seemed somehow appropriate.

[Open!]

Magic Box, Sunday

[nuclear_snide]

The crystals and books were behaving today. The incense was standing up straight. The more magical ingredients were refreshingly non-animate.

Bob was suspicious, but there wasn't very much he could do about it, after all, so as long as they were behaving, he'd leave them to it.

The Magic Box was open and OCD-free!

Caritas, Sunday

[suitably_heroic]

People were welcome to take Atton's return to the Caritas bar - even mixing drinks, fancy that! - as a good sign of his recuperation, or something. Personally, he'd say he was just trying to get away from all the karking television coverage of ancient soldiers and world leaders putting down wreaths.

Call it a quirk he wasn't willing to go into.

But he was behind the bar. And he was mixing drinks. Not with the usual flourish, sure. But things were getting shaken and stirred with mathematical precision.

Most of the cocktails were pretty complicated. It was nicely distracting.

[[ open! ]]