Caritas; Wednesday [02/13].

[not_a_bird]

Eventually, there would be a sign up on the stage that would announce Sweet Dee's plans for getting a Wednesday Open Mic Comedy Night thing going. Eventually. Because Sweet Dee, armed with posterboard and some markers behind the bar, was having a little trouble with it. It all started out great, nice clean letters, big, legible, perfectly spaced...until she realized she hadn't spaced them out well at all and so half the word had maybe three inches to fit into by the time she got toward the edge of the posterboard.

"Goddammit!"

So she had to scrap that sign, start another one. Being careful with her spacing. Running into the same problem again, despite her best efforts.

"Son of a bitch!"

And that's when Tino started to chime in, telling her to measure them out, to maybe try tracing them first, and that was not helping. "Uh, yeah, thanks, Tino, that's what I've been doing, goddammit. I got this. Thanks."

She did not have it, and after another failed attempted, Tino had more unsolicited advice to offer.

"Goddammit, Tino! I will shove this marker straight up your goddaamn nose. Why don't you just go work on some of those real super cool barticks of yours, huh?"

Followed by a shake of her head, a return to work, and, a few seconds later, a shatter of glass.

"With plastic!"

Caritas is open!

Blackstone Foundry and Forge, Wednesday

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord was... in a better mood today than he'd been yesterday. Another good night's sleep and another day spent beating his accent back into submission had helped. And besides, he had plans, today.

There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about a man who worked at the forge coming in to peruse the stock at the forge, no. And tossing the squirrels a bribe when he waited until Amaya was off teaching so that he could select a delicately detailed sword off the weapons wall and ring it up for himself was easily done. He'd been given more than three seconds to think about something and at least two words of encouragement on the matter, you had better believe a certain civilized somebody was going to be getting an anonymous sword delivered to her door in the dead of night tonight.

With that plan all sorted out and his organization project finally finished, he was settling in to make some work for himself while he waited for Amaya to hand him something new to do. A new dagger, naturally. All the better to distance himself from the anonymous sword today, after all.

And besides, sometimes daggers were just nice to have.

... This one might have been turning out a little on the smallish side, though. Ah well. Maybe someone would get it for their kid or something.

[OOC: Open!]

Pick Your Poison, Wednesday

[myownface]

Sparkle was maybe looking a little bit on the harried side today. People who had left Valentine's shopping until very nearly the last minute were looking for romantic stay-at-home date ideas, and it was completely, utterly unsurprising that those ideas seemed to largely involve make-up, perfumes, incense, scented candles, fancy teas, bubble bath...

He was up to his eyeballs in fancy-assed date shit, and by the end of the day, the shelves were once again looking barren and he maybe wanted to just collapse into a bubble bath for a while himself and just not move for a while.

[OOC: Open for all your bath and beauty (or Sparkle) needs!]

Devil's Nest - Wednesday

[biotic_psychotic]

Wednesday happened this week and Jack took herself in to Devil's Nest before it could disappear. Tiny smirked and opened his mouth to comment but she held up a warning finger. "I'm in a mood and it could go either good or bad. Do you really want to fucking push me right now?"

Tiny shut his mouth with an audible snap and fished out the keys to the store room for her. Jack took those and a notepad and the lone pen that hadn't yet been stolen by patrons and went to do inventory. She liked the store room. It was quiet and dark and full of booze. All her favorite places were.

Inventory was done and the slip put in the register. Tiny was up on a ladder hanging decorations. Jack squinted up at them. "What the fuck are you doing?" "It's Valentine's Day tomorrow," Tiny said a little defensively, "I'm setting the mood!" He was hanging red cardboard hearts from the ceiling. Jack eyed them and grunted. At least they were anatomically correct hearts.

The latest DJ swanned on in. Well. That was certainly a look. She was done in a dress of red and black with so many petticoats she looked like a Barbie cake. Jack watched her march into the DJ booth and set up. This should be interesting.

A little bit surprised when the music started playing. It was all female vocalists in a range of musical styles. Everything from Juice Newton's Queen of Hearts to Rihanna's S&M. Jack leaned back against the counter behind the bar. Had to admit to herself that she was a little impressed at the DJ's attitude.

[Devil's Nest is Open!]

Covent Garden Flowers, Wednesday

[2_old_for_this]

It was the day before Valentine's Day. Even the flowers seemed a bit frantic.

And in the midst of all the rest of it, there were a not-insignificant number of birthday bouquets, too.

At this point, Peter was not above flat-out suggesting people go help the school funding drive instead. They had great flowers!

...Which he was absolutely not doing himself. Not out of any bizarre competitiveness, but just because when he went home, he wanted nothing more to do with flowers.


But for now, Covent Garden was open!

Luke's, Wednesday

[vdistinctive]

So this weekend had been . . . interesting. 'Wes' had apparently had much more of a taste for heavy greasy foods than Eliot did -- mostly because Wes didn't remember what eating too much of that stuff tended to do to Eliot's digestive system.

The kitchen staff was much too amused by Wes's less than haute tastes to let it go, though. Hence the specials already on the menu when Eliot came in:

Today's Specials
Triple bacon cheddar burger with fried egg and onion ring topping
Extra-chili cheese fries with sour cream

"Y'all have no idea how lucky you are that I don't kill people anymore," Eliot noted, tossing a piece of chalk from hand to hand before lobbing it to the busboy and ordering him to fix it.

AND A SALAD DAMMIT

Luke's was open.