Caritas, Wednesday [01/09].

[not_a_bird]

"Ooh. Oh. Uh. Hey, Tiiiiino?" Sweet Dee, bewildered, stood in front of the drafts with a pint glass and a confused look on her face, and she turned to the other bartender and held up what had poured out of the spout for him to see. It was not at all the pilsner she had expected to pour, but something dark and red and easily recognizable as wine. "That's not normal...is it?"

Something like that had probably happened before, sure, and normal around here was a very relative term, but he agreed that it was at least unexpected, especially since checking the kegs and the lines revealed that everything seemed to be beer up until the point where it was actually poured. And when Sweet Dee asked if they should be worried or have someone come check it out, Tino just shrugged like it didn't matter. And since he had seniority over her by a long shot, she figured any blame for the situation could be foisted on him without any real effort on her part, except maybe to play up the wide-eyed newbie (with fifteen years of experience) a little.

So Sweet Dee just shrugged as well, continued to fill up the pint glass with a nice cabernet to sip on and appreciate the fact that it was actually pretty good, too, and it solved at least one potential problem for her evening as well.

Because let's see some stupid fancyboy bitches complain about the head on her beer now.

[[ open! ]]

Blackstone Foundry and Forge, Wednesday

[built_fjord_tough]

Why yes, Fjord was in a good mood as he showed up at the forge for his shift today. There was a small, strange little sense of victory behind simply getting the Danger Shop to cooperate with him yesterday, this quiet satisfaction that, hell, this thing that was so beyond him was maybe not completely insurmountable after all.

Not... not that he was viewing that as a metaphor for certain other things going on in his life at the moment, no. Things that he really ought to get back to exploring, trying to get answers for. Which he couldn't do from here. Here, which was a place he couldn't get home from even if he wanted to...

He sighed and shook it off as he made his way to feed the fire in the forge, to check for weapons that needed sharpening, to maybe settle in and start planning out the next sword he was going to make.

Keeping busy. Most of what he was doing around this island was really just keeping busy, but at least there was some sense of satisfaction in doing good, solid work.

[OOC: Open!]

Pick Your Poison, Wednesday

[myownface]

God, it was weird coming into this place while still having no damn clue where the hell Iris was at. Pretty much all of the stock from the shelves at this point was from the corner of mass-produced shame or was that pile of things that had been left here by the LUSH fairies, and there came a point when he had to accept that she'd been gone a whole semester now, and maybe she wasn't coming back.

And that was why Sparkle was taking matters into his own hands and placing a proper LUSH order today, yes, along with another order for ingredients for things he did know how to make from scratch, or was comfortable following instructions for. The end result wouldn't be quite what Iris had wanted for this place, but at least it would keep enough stock on the shelves that the shop would be able to keep paying for itself.

... And, you know, for his paycheques.

That accomplished, he settled in with the nail polish kit his secret santa had given to him and started painting his nails to kill the time. Little sakura flowers on a pastel green background.

[OOC: Open!]

Covent Garden Flowers, Wednesday

[2_old_for_this]

The Valentine's Day orders were still coming in, but more bewildering was the fact that the plants seemed to want...something. They'd hum and lean in at him, then stop, then start again. Finally he hummed back at them, and they all...preened?

Apparently they'd been getting a taste for music.

Peter did what he could, but he was an average singer at best and could only remember old jazz songs at the moment. Fortunately, the plants seemed to like half-assed swing and jazz, even offering occasional harmonies. And Tickles...jumped around a lot, in apparently what he thought was dancing.

Covent Garden was open! Mind the dancing plants.

Fandom Counseling, Wednesday

[sharp_man]

Hannibal had a class later, but that meant he'd had to reschedule a few of his NPC regulars, so he was in his office early today. And yet again, the tax records had started to come in and he was left with trying to figure out multidimensional taxes.

It would keep him busy between patients, anyway.

The doctor was in!


[Open post! No OCD.]