Luke's, Sunday

[uncertain_dume]

So, Kanan had been informed yesterday by Kaidan that he had a job. Which... was not the kind of job he anticipated having, considering he'd also been told he was a Jedi, but a responsibility was a responsibility, right?

... He also had short hair. And he'd shaved. Because he'd woken up yesterday to a shoulder-length mop and a beard that had made him squint at himself in the mirror wondering what in the world was wrong with him, and while Kaidan had mentioned that there were hair ties somewhere around the apartment, he figured he could probably do something about the whole mess of it in the time before he needed to be at the diner.

Doing what, he wasn't sure exactly. But when he got there, the rest of the staff didn't seem terribly certain, either. Except for the one who had claimed a place in the kitchen as the cook, and even he didn't actually know much besides that he was a cook who worked in a diner, so...

Kanan shrugged at the rest of the staff. The staff shrugged back. And then he settled behind the counter, because that seemed right enough, right?

Welcome to Luke's!
Today's Specials:
Try us! Maybe we'll know how to cook it!

Kanan eyed the specials board for a minute, frowning thoughtfully. Something seemed off about that, but he couldn't put a finger on exactly what...

Ah well.

[OOC: Because short-hair-mid-twenties-Kanan was made canon and Filoni drew the image in this icon once. Had to happen eventually. If probably temporarily.]

Covent Garden Flowers - Sunday

[mages_suck]

Anders had spotted the flower shop the day before but he and Fjord had been on a quest for food. He hadn't gone in. Staying in the hotel room had gotten boring and he'd decided to go for a walk.

The door was locked when he got there. Anders growled and pushed on it and.. his whole body turned to smoke and he stepped through the door. "..What the hell just happened?" he blurted, turning to stare back at the door.

A small furry distraction appeared, bolting across the floor and scaling him like an elf-shaped mountain. ".. And what the hell are you?" he grouched. The small kitten thing curled up on his shoulder and rubbed against his face and that? That was familiar and comforting and he didn't know why. "Fine. You can stay there."

He absently reached behind him and unlocked the door and flipped the sign to 'Open'.

There were water buckets around the store filled with flowers of different kinds. A calendar on the wall had a red heart over the 14th. There was some sort of tally sheet nearby but he couldn't read it. Something about the buckets bothered him. He knew - knew - the flowers shouldn't be like that.

With a somewhat aggrieved sigh, he went and began putting them together in better arrangements. Some in vases and some in plastic cone-shaped sleeves and put back in the buckets of water. It was .. calming, doing this. As was the purring of the tiny kitten thing curled up on his shoulder.

[Open!]

Caritas, Sunday

[suitably_heroic]

Well, it looked like it was one of those weekends.

Atton walked past the zombies and tossed his jacket onto the counter. "Right," he said. "Someone get me the specials board."

WELCOME TO CARITAS
FIRST ALCOHOLIC DRINK FREE
IF YOU REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE
IF YOU DON'T
TRY THE LEMONADE

"Guess this is not going to be a cocktail night."

[[ open ]]

The Beach, Sunday

[furnaceface]

Jonothon had spent yesterday begging for quiet, and quiet hadn't come. He'd spent yesterday begging for a good many things, really. Quiet. Understanding. A nice, deep breath. Apparently none of those things were meant to be, and as much as 'burying his head under a pillow' had given him some minor placebo effect, the truth of the matter was, there were voices. They were deafening in his mind's eye. And he had no bloody clue how to escape them.

Today, he'd decided to try distance, since begging for quiet into an uncaring void hadn't seemed to work. And, to some minor degree, proximity did seem to make some difference. If he headed in one direction, the voices, the murmurs in his mind got louder, more overwhelming, like the crowd had only gotten larger still, like he was walking from a small town toward a large city.

... Which was essentially what had happened.

The other direction had made things somewhat more tolerable, the dull roar or human life shifting until it was something softer, like murmurs on the outskirts of a quiet room, and he would have kept going, except that eventually he was met with an expanse of open water set out before him, just daring him to try.

He stared at it in helpless silence for a long while, and then just took a seat right there on the beach in the snow and the rain, quietly defeated. He'd live with murmurs, then. Tolerate the cold.

He wasn't going back toward the roar.

[OOC: Open!]

Atlas Gym, Monday (2/11)

[notallbluemonks]

It might have been a nice weekend, waking up without her memories (and all the assorted baggage that came with), except that the first thing Beau had found to give her a clue as to who she was had been the letter from her parents telling her that she had a brother now and might as well not bother to come home. She'd been more upset and confused about that than angry like she usually was, but in the end it was all still pretty emotionally draining.

Anyway. She guessed it probably could have been worse, and likely had been for other people now that she was starting to get the sense of how this place did weekends sometimes.

So there were a few extra punching bags and practice dummies out today, and a sign up at the front desk:

MEMBERSHIP SPECIAL!


Come in today and get 1 month free if your weekend sucked!

The sign hadn't been Beau's doing.

"Really?" she asked . . . something. The island's disembodied sense of whimsy, maybe. "That's so tacky, dude."

[[My brain took a weekend vacation apparently. Gym and post are open!]]