Furnado Animal Shelter; Friday [04/05].

[hashtag_chocobro]

Blame it on the nearly two weeks of everything being out of sync and off between being a puppy, being a vigilante bike rider, and being unable to move without extreme pain, but Prompto left his room in a flurry that day, having looked up from his morning video games to realize suddenly that he was running late and he needed to be at work in, like, about five minutes, oh, shit!

Seriously, Furnado, you just haaad be all the way over on the other side of the island, didn't you?

But Prompto, still feeling a little sore but not enough that he couldn't sprint pretty quickly after scrambling to get ready (including doing his hair; he couldn't not do his hair!), was pretty sure he managed to make it in not too late, bursting in the door with a cry of, "I'm here, I'm here, sorry I'm late, I'm here!" to assuage any complaints the vet might have about his tardiness.

But she just sort of blinked at him as he leaned on the counter, trying to pretend like he wasn't trying to catch his breath, and then took a pointed look at her watch. "You're twenty minutes early," she said.

Prompto stared at her for a moment, whipped out his phone, and somehow, miraculously, time seemed to have moved backwards, because, yeah, there was still twenty minutes left until the start of his shift.

He could have sworn...

...how was that possible?

..."Okay, sweet," he said. "Extra puppy time!"

Always a silver lining, my dudes.

Furnado is open!

[[in my panic to leave thinking I'd be late, I somehow actually managed to get to work 20 minutes early. WTF. I don't even know]]

Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Friday [04/05].

[special_rabbit]

It had been quite the long journey getting there, between one (rabbit-y) thing and the (ninja-y)other, but Amaya had finally gotten there. She'd finally managed to kick out a few of the ninja stars and knives she was putting together for Beau, and, as she put the finishing touches on the blades, she couldn't help admiring the work and thinking the wait had been worth it. These things were real beauties, fitting the image she'd had for them perfectly, especially the smooth, unique curve of the spikes and the way she'd managed to temper that Tanalorian steel for these like she had for Kanan's sword, only to bring out the blue instead of the green.

So...that was at least one down! Only about a dozen left to go!

Hey. You couldn't rush quality.

The Forge is open!

Turtle & Canary; Friday [04/05].

[white_oleander]

It seemed that some of the peace between Astrid and Apu had dispelled a little, mostly because Astrid was not giving Apu as much attention as he thought he was due for his new outfit. "Yeah, yeah, Apu, you look great, very groovy," Astrid told him, distracted.

Distracted, it so happened, by two pieces of paper and an envelop that had arrived for her from California. The first, a letter, dry and official, informing her that a transfer will be made at the end of the current (1993/2019) semester. No summer camp, no summer school, just a new place to live. Claire and Ron Richards, in Hollywood, no less. She'd already started to imagine what they might be like, and to imagine their home: a young couple, maybe, taking in strays to help determine whether or not they wanted to start their own brood, with a small little bungalow among palm trees, maybe they even had a pool. Travel information, plane tickets, a phone number to call if she had any questions.

The second...just a few simple words, written on what looked like it was torn from the blank pages at the end of a book. She brought it to her face to breathe deeply; no violets, but the words written across it still danced in her head like a tango: You're coming home, baby.

Your new pants could be completely on fire right now, Apu, and Astrid wasn't likely to notice them.

Today's Squishy Flavors
Raisin and Spice Bar
Caramel
Red

Turtle & Canary is open!

Wellspring Arms, Friday

[chirpchirpchirp]

Vette showed up to work at the Wellspring today, just in time to catch a small avalanche of potatoes raining down from the ceiling. Which was a great time, really, all the getting beaned by falling potatoes.

She loved it.

(She hated this island. So much. But hey, free potatoes.)

[OOC: Open!]

Kanan's Warehouse, Friday

[uncertain_dume]

Of course it had to be a rainy day, didn't it? Just as the weather was finally starting to turn, and all? So once more, Kanan was in his warehouse, spending his morning... trying to meditate. And his afternoon attempting to run through forms with his lightsaber.

Except he kept getting interrupted. By gremlins. Who would walk up to him and politely clear their throats and offer him small cartons of milk.

... And, really, they were gremlins, so, while Kanan didn't exactly trust that milk, he wasn't about to say no and risk spending the rest of the day thinking he was a dolphin or something.

By the time noon rolled around, Kanan had accomplished very little by way of meditation, but he could probably build a small wall out of milk cartons in an attempt to keep the gremlins out. It balanced.

[OOC: Open!]

Caritas, Friday Evening

[built_fjord_tough]

"I... don't wanna know what the hell that is," Fjord announced, immediately, upon seeing the horrifying concoction that Tino had come up with this evening. "If you'd decided to make vodka milkshakes, that's fine. Hell, if you were making potato chowder, that'd be fuckin' weird for a bar, but I'd be willing to roll with it."

Fjord gestured emphatically at the glass of starchy white fluid that Tino was claiming would be the next big health craze.

"But whatever the hell that is, people aren't gonna drink it just because you gave it a fancy name in a foreign tongue."

There was no way in hell pommes de terre au lait was going to catch on.

[OOC: ... My roomie took a stab at the French word for apple juice this morning. Swing and a miss.]

The Holoscene, Friday

[thishouseishaunted]

Mae was finally back at the Holoscene for another relaxing Friday of preferring holograms over reality!

She had the door propped open to let in the nice spring air (sure, it was damp spring air, but she'd never been much bothered by drizzle), and to let out the awesome bass solo she was practicing in Holosuite One.

And if there was the occasional roar and scream and flapping of wings, well. What fun was it playing a song called "Space Dragon" in a hologram room if you didn't program it with an actual space dragon?

[open!]

Trooper Station, Friday

[firstofitskind]

Actual crimes in Fandom were few and far between, so Liam was a little surprised to find himself dealing with a call about a break in today.

"A raccoon broke into the candy store?"

"Well, did you actually see this happen?"

"So someone definitely broke into the candy store, and you think it may have been a raccoon."

"Yes, I'll look into it."

Back Room at Wonka's Sweets Shoppe | Early Friday Morning

[shapethecentury]

Bucky had been on the island for several days, now. And he hadn't learned much.

Well. No. Strike that. He'd learned things. It was just that the things he'd learned didn't seem to make a whole hell of a lot of sense. Memories had come back to him and were coming back to him, but they still seemed muddled or mixed up somehow. The world had changed while he'd been on ice, he knew, but there was still so much that just didn't seem possible. And that was even before going into how the letters to Rebecca dated back to the 1940s, while his memories of this place seemed to suggest... something else.

But five days in Fandom was long enough for him to have found out about radio. He still wasn't sure what surveillance tech was providing it with all its info, but he'd made damn sure he wasn't getting the name 'Bucky' on the airwaves again today. Because early this morning, he finally went looking deeper into the only establishment he was sure he'd been to before.

Getting into the candy store through the back wasn't hard. Regular locks weren't really a match to his left hand, after all. As for what he found... Little, but of some worth. Some paperwork with his signature, proving he'd been the manager of this place, for a time. And proving the frustrating, the impossible: that he'd been here in 2016.

But there was also a further clue. Some of the paperwork mentioned an address. Mauvaise Chance Apartments, #-4, 24 Mallard Way.

Guess he knew where he was going next.

( ooc: establishy! squirrels, please note: that Wonka's was broken into is fine for broadcast, but Bucky's identity is NFB, please and thank you! )