Trooper Station; Monday [11/19].

[died8yearsago]

Rosa...probably should not have come into work today. But not coming into work today meant admitting defeat. It meant admitting something that she'd always insist despite having plenty of evidence against it: Diazes. Didn't. Get. Sick.

But Diazes also didn't usually spend two nights sleeping in the woods in the middle of November as a seven year old hellbent on being an 'uncivilized savage,' either.

And after another bout of coughing all over the files Ralph just handed over in a way that inspired half the troopers to start betting on when a lung would show up, there started to be questions.

"What's going on, Diaz?"

"Are you sick? Do you have cholera? Is it typhod? Are you a vampire?"

Calvin gasped. "My horoscope said to wear a cowlneck today and I laughed!"

"I'm fine," Rosa insisted. "Diazes don't get sick."

Cue the sneeze.

"This is allergies."

"No," said Ralph, "that's what killed the dinosaurs. You need to go home."

"I am not going home," Rosa insisted, rasping it out like she was practically on death's doorstep already. Eventually, since it only seemed to be getting worse somehow, she agreed to take some cold medicine if they would just leave her the hell alone.

One problem: someone accidentally picked up the non-drowsy kind, Rosa straight up chugged that shit, and now Diaz was all over the place. And goofy as hell.

"Hey!" All over the place in her chair, which was making the most out of being a roller chair. "Hey, hey, hey, guess what! IthinkIgotaleadtoaskthatsquirrelaboutthatnutthefton Sphinx. Street--" She was interrupted by a phone ringing from...somewhere, and rolled right back the way she came from trying to locate it, shoving the files in her hand into Ralph's chest. "OH! Why doesn't someone answer that phone? Get it." She collided into a desk. "I'll get it."

And she got it, her voice dropping to her usual monotone. "Hello. No. There's no Michael here, you have the wrong number. Goodbye."

"I'm Michael," said one of the troopers, looking hurt, although, really, dude, she didn't remember any of your names still, even when she wasn't sick and hopped up on cold meds.

"That's a dumb name," Rosa informed him, clinging to her chair, her brow furrowed seriously, "but it's yours, and you should be proud of it, because you are the greatest detective I've ever know."

"No doy, Diaz," Michael preened. "No doy."

But she was done with this, and rolling back to the other side of the station. "Where. Is. My. Fiiiile?"

So this was going to be an interesting day at the Trooper Station...at least until perhaps Ralph pulled off his plan to just lock Diaz up in the evidence room for a while. But he'd have to catch her first!

[[ open! Parts cribbed from B99 S02E09, "The Roadtrip." I've been waiting to use this, but never expected Weetiny Weekend would be the lead in, and it's kinda the best]]

Turtle & Canary; Monday [11/19].

[white_oleander]

So that was...interesting. By now, Astrid knew that weekends like this last one weren't just some strange fever dream, some weird psychological breakdown episode, but, honestly, it was hard to really come to grips with the idea that they weren't. She woke up that morning back in her fifteen-year-old body and mind, and felt an overwhelming sense of incredible disappointment about it. This were just so much easier when she was seven...or, at the very least, she wasn't old enough to realize just how messed up it kind of was for a seven year old to know how to cook her own breakfast because she had to, that her only thought when waking up somewhere different was what language will I be speaking today?, and that it seemed completely normal that her mother was no where to be found.

Of course, Astrid also didn't realize that the island had a way of making those thoughts seem normal for everyone, but there was definitely something off about the fact that she would have thought that regardless of the island's influence.

She also couldn't get something she'd said to Captain Rogers (also: good luck wrapping yourself around that one, brain, that was definitely Captain Rogers) in class on Friday out of her head: Moms get disappointed a lot.

Some things never changed how old you were, apparently. Which was why Astrid was spending an awful lot of time on her shift at T&C that day going back and forth between considering and picking out which boxes of bleach and blonde hair dye were going to be coming back home with her.

Today's Squishy Flavors
Pecan Sandy
Salted Caramel Blondie
Red

Turtle & Canary is open!

T42 - Monday 6am-6pm [won't be here Thurs]

[hernando_fuentes]

Hernando was thankful Kaidan had spent the night and been there in the morning to help deal with the emotional hangover from the weekend.

The shop seemed to be attempting to help as well. When he entered in the morning, there were already piles of pastries set out. Far more than the store usually carried. Rosalie or Simon must have stopped by because there was a multi-tier tray of cupcakes as well. At least Hernando hoped they had stopped by and that the store hadn't started replicating the cupcakes. He didn't think it would. The store seemed to like Rosalie and her kids.

The sign rattled. Hernando investigated.

SPECIALS
Need to eat your feelings after the weekend?
All pastries BOGO.
Complimentary 1st mug of tea with purchase!


He huffed a small laugh and hung the sign in the window. When he returned to the counter, a steaming mug of tea was waiting for him. "Thank you," he murmured with a fond pat on the counter.

Description of shop is here.

[Open early because of the animal sacrifice with pie this week.]

Street corner, Monday afternoon.

[revengenotebook]

Right, so Brooke was clearly out of her mind this morning, and the list of suggestions for catching a husband were deeply stupid, but...it was for a grade.

And Paris was verrrrrry serious about her grades, which was why you would find her on this particular corner. Crying. Just like #40 told her to.

Granted it said in a corner rather than on one, but she thought this would get her noticed by more people in a way that wasn't public drowning attempts in November (#118, she was judging you so hard).

If this failed, she supposed she could always go to Yale (#111), right? God, this was dumb.


[OOC: So very open.]

Fandom Post Office, November 20 (Tuesday)

[filleauloup]

It being so close to Thanksgiving, Éponine was fully prepared to come in to work today and find herself deluged by frozen turkeys, or something equally ridiculous. (Which would have been fine, if that had been the case; she'd have readily sold the turkeys to people.)

The one thing she had not been prepared for, of course, was the random mailboxes full of stuffing.

At least it was delicious, and she wouldn't have to worry about going out for lunch today. That was something.

[[Open, no OCD!]]