Luke's Diner, Saturday

[what_the_shock]

Miguel arrived to work to find the staff arguing about which vegan dish they should serve.

Miguel gave them all a look, went into the freezer, and grabbed a package of meat.

The busboy looked at him like he was a monster.

"This meat's been in there longer than this week, guaranteed," Miguel told him firmly. "Whatever it was," he looked at the package, "it wasn't talking when it died."

He assumed. He wasn't going to say that.

"Now cook or get out of the way."


Today's Specials:
Nerf burgers
Nerf tacos
Vegan mac and cheese


Luke's was open!

Old Campground in the Preserve; Late Saturday Afternoon into Evening [06/08].

[howareyanow]

This was something Wayne had been planning to do for a while now, but this seemed to be the only time both the weather and the island had cooperated enough to allow for it. It was better this way, really, since it meant he'd had a few more weeks to accumulate a few shirts that needed to be destroyed an account of the fact that there was now glitter basically seeped into the very fibers. Once there was glitter, there was no hope of getting it out, might as well trash the shirts, no need to fuss, he bought them in bulk anywaaaay.

So he went out and found that campfire spot he remembered seeing back when that so-called Wilderness class was learning how to use their fucking compasses with a smoke, a six pack of Puppers (seems that store here really did sell pert'near everything, except he didn't remember seeing any duct tape), a folding chair to sit on, and a nicely roaring, slightly glittery fire in the pit, nice and well fed from a healthy dose of flannel shirts.

He'd have made a proper bush party out of it, but fucked if he was going to make flyers. And normally, he'd put it up on Facebook, but he didn't have anyone's Facebook and fuck Facebook anyway.

Wasn't so bad just sort of sitting and listening to the conversations all the bugs and nocturnal critters in the woods were having right then, either, really. Even better when he was recording those conversations to send on over to Katy.

What the fuck kind of school are you even going to, big brother??

Good question, there, Katy-kat. Good question.

[[ work is trying to kill me! send help! Open solo bush party is oooopeeeen! ]]

[[update: there is literally a guy in our parking lot right now playing "Despacito" on an accordion. What IS today???]]

Covent Garden Flowers, Saturday

[1000yearstoolate]

Issa's tail flicked as she stared up at the top shelves, where a group of sparrows had gathered for a botany class. Issa, who had no interest in botany, was staring at them, letting out noises, while the birds just ignored her. Eventually one of the birds told the others:

"Just ignore the cat, she'll get bored as soon as someone gives her smelly food from a can."

"Fuck you! You, stupid, flapping... food!"

Seivarden raised an eyebrow. The cat must be really angry, because she hadn't been swearing a lot during the past few days.

Then Issa leapt on to one of the lower shelves, knocking a few pots to the floor, clearly aiming to climb up to the birds, but Seivarden grabbed her before she got any further.

"What are you doing?!"

This was how Issa ended up in the storage room, which meant Seivarden had to endure both scratching at the door, and long accusations and letting her know how terribly Issa was suffering.

Things had to be back to normal soon, didn't they?

[Open]

Groovy Tunes, Saturday

[justice_undone]

When Breq arrived, the shop had been taken over by a cat band that played jazz covers. It wasn't the strangest thing to happen, and they played surprisingly well considering they didn't have fingers.

She made some tea and sat down to listen, fairly sure that the way they ignored her was just pretense. It was just something about the way they were showing off that she didn't think they would have done without an audience.

[Open!]