Atlas Gym, Monday (6/24)

[notallbluemonks]

The first thing Beau did when she got to work this morning was to stand in the doorway, rub her eyes vigorously, blink a few times, and then sigh, because everything looked just as monochrome in here as it did everywhere else in town.

"This is so weird, man."

It was like she couldn't even be relieved the place had gone back to normal, because even 'normal' had a catch or ten. Still, an improvement over the last couple of days? Definitely.

"Guess at least I get an idea of what it would be like to have darkvision," she muttered, since, you know, she'd read that people who had darkvision saw things in black and white. Though it might probably be a good idea to stick labels on any of the gym equipment that relied on color-coding, huh? Yeah. She'd be spending some time doing that this morning.

[OOC: Gym open, no OCD!]

Trooper Station; Monday [06/24].

[died8yearsago]

It looked like things were back to normal again this Monday...or, well, Fandom normal, in a way, considering how everything was sort of in black and white. It actually took Rosa a startlingly long timee to even notice that, really. Her wardrobe swung pretty heavy toward one color as it was and her brain was probably just adapting to weird little details like that with way more ease than she was comfortable with.

Not to mention that there'd always been a nice contrast between her and her black leather and the troopers and their dumb white plasticy suits. She did have an overwhelming desire to park herself in an office with a frosted glass window, though, her name printed neatly on it, to start talking in a bit of an affected accent and be smoking with one hand, drinking a scotch on the rocks with the other, peppering her speech with a lot of "see?"s and "doll"s.

Thankfully, it was a bit too busy around the station for much of that, and since it was her desk duty day, Rosa took to dispatchihng the troopers around the island after the first call in about someone waking up all disoritentated but back to normal to keep an eye out for anyone else who might no longer be a monster anymore and, therefor, were probably in a weird state of ohgod, why am I waking up in the middle of some random spot in the wilderness right now

"Also," she stated, for the record, "I'm putting down a ton of money on the bet that this week is going to be terrible, the worst one yet, I doubt if any of us will even surivive."

...and if that worked, then so help her, Kitty really better pay her back.

[[ open station is open! ]]

The Shore not far from Galactica Point, Monday Morning

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord really, really needed to stop waking up washed ashore on beaches after horrifying dreams. Last night's dream had been like the one before in reverse, had involved the coils with many eyes wrapping around him and pulling him away from the...

... From the what, he wasn't sure, but there in his dream he'd been crushed halfway to oblivion, the cold, booming voice in his head speaking single words again, that guttural growl snarling possessively right into his mind's eye.

WATCHING. RETURN. PROVOKE. CONSUME.

Again he'd woken up coughing seawater, and then he'd just sat there overlooking the waves, getting his bearings. Re-playing what he remembered of the last few days over and over in his head again. Holding out his hand and calling the falchion into it in a familiar splash of seawater. It was whole again, only the barest seam where the two halves had been split apart, and even that seemed to melt away as he watched it. He dismissed it again and then looked around, trying to puzzle out where he was. It was night - everything was in shades of gray - except then a cloud drifted a little more and he had to squint and look away, the sun too suddenly bright and hurting his eyes.

Okay. So not his usual grayscale night vision at work, just gray. He looked down at his hands, breathed out a sigh of relief. His claws had gone, receded back into his usual black, hooked nails. He had no tail, no spikes, no gills. A hand wandered up to his mouth and his eyes narrowed a little.

... Okay, his tusks were slightly longer than usual. Those hadn't completely gone back down to the size they'd been before, still peeking out a good inch from behind his bottom lip when he closed his mouth. But that wasn't cause for concern, so much. They would have gotten there eventually, had he left them long enough to grow. Still, they were... going to take some getting used to. He made a face, wrinkled his nose, and spat, trying to clear his mouth of the last traces of saltwateer still lingering there.

"Fuckin' hate this place," he muttered, and then settled back in among the stones and sand, staring out at the strangely gray morning sea.

[OOC: Open seashore, discombobulated wjarlock!]

Out on the Beach, Monday morning

[heroic_jawline]

Waking up in black and white seemed downright normal, compared to the last few weeks, and Steve was thrilled to take the new puppy for a run down the beach.

Well, Steve was running. On the best day a corgi puppy was not exactly built to keep up with a super-soldier, and Patriot was much more interested in sniffing all the things rather than running in a straight line of any kind.

[OOC: Had to get the fake puppy out! Come say hi!]

Monday: Covent Garden Flowers

[mylandmyrules]

Everything was black and white today. Which was still quite a blessing after last week, but, well, the flowers were not meant to be black and white.

But, they seemed healthy enough, so Nell just took care of them as best she could.