Atlas Gym, Monday (8/5)

[notallbluemonks]

Much as Beau was glad to be back to her usual 3-D, non-pixelated form, she had to admit she was going to miss some of the weird fun of the last week.

So maybe she took a little bit of an unnecessarily platforming route to get to work today, climbing things and jumping from ledge to ledge or rooftop to rooftop, but what about it? She did that more or less every week anyway.

And now that she was at work, she was spending all her downtime doing pull-ups off the edge of the second level railing, Kelley O'Hara style, because who needed the actual apparatus for this, really?

[OOC: Post/gym open!]

Trooper Station; Monday [08/05].

[died8yearsago]

"Ugh. Thank god it's Monday."

Yes, those were actualy words that left Rosa's actual mouth as she plopped into the chair at her desk, groaning into it a little bit while Arlo 2 made herself comfortable nearby, glad to finally get out of the apartment since it had been a very dangerous week for stupid little dogs.

"What?" Rosa asked, catching the looks from the troopers, back out of their turtle-shells and into their plasteel-shells. "That pixel shit was driving me crazy. I don't know what's going to happen this week, but at least I know I'll be able to tell what it is instead of just making my best guess."

Even if she did feel a little bummed about not getting the chance to stomp one of their shells off.

...well, there was nothing preventing her from still trying, right?

Well, except that whole assaulting your coworkers thing, but when had that ever really stopped her?

Either way, she was actually going to take advantage of being able to do her work in a seemingly normal fashion today. And maybe that was the real catch about this week: all these other weeks were actually making Rosa look forward to a nice, normal day of work.

[[ and it's open! ]]

Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Monday [08/05].

[special_rabbit]

Amaya'd gotten into the habit of holding her breath pretty much from the moment she got up in the morning to the time she got down into the shop every Monday this summer, which was another reason it was a good thing it didn't take her very long to get her ducks all in a row when she woke up. But everything from actually having her bed to her coffee being normal to the view out her window overlooking Unicorn Street, then down the stairs into the shop with its proper amount of anvils and worktables and weapons on the wall seemed to be in place and right as rain, and, though she didn't want to curse it or anything, she was getting the feeling that, even if it was raining, then that would be okay right now, too.

It wasn't really until the forge had been stoked and nicely heated and she had that first experiment lump of glowing metal between the anvil and that first satisfying blow of her hammer that she actually really, truly, completely let out that breath. Oh, thank the stars! Everything was normal, at least for this moment, and quite possibly the next. Maybe even the one after that! Amaya couldn't be sure, of course, so it just made the most sense to make the most of what time she did have until things went belly-up or weird to just get as much productivity out of her system as she could. She didn't know quite yet what she was working on; she'd start with maybe a basic sword to get her brain-juices flowing a little as she decided on how to best make the most of the morning. Possibly the whole day! With nothing too weird or untoward...

...and just working on a sword right now was a good way to keep those brain-juices from starting to speculate on just how things might start going belly-up, because there'd definitely been some weeks like that, too, the ones that lure you into a false sense of security before biting your right in the goblin-kidnapping behind.

The Forge is open!

The Beach, Monday Morning

[built_fjord_tough]

Fjord had woken up from an amazing sleep, unexpectedly, to the sound of a sword clattering to the floor.

Just that. The falchion. On the floor. He'd frowned and tried to call it back to him, but nothing had happened. No magic splash of water, no anything, really. Even the usual array of barnacles and starfish and tiny snails had vanished entirely from the hilt and the base of the blade.

With his heart somewhere in the pit of his guts, he grabbed the sword, slung it into its old sheath across his back, and slipped outside, making his way to the beach.

Tried to cast disguise self. Nothing.

Tried to throw an eldritch blast out over the water.

Nothing.

... Just... nothing. A strangling feeling of dread rising up in his chest, drowning out a smaller, more subtle wave of relief. On the one hand, freedom. But on the other...?

"No," he murmured. "No, no, no, no, no. I need this."

What the hell was he if he didn't have that magic? Cut off from the ocean, no way to get home, no idea if Vandran was even alive.

Just Fjord.

Just that.

[OOC: No sea life, eh? Mehehehehehe. Open!]

Monday: Covent Garden Flowers

[mylandmyrules]

This had certainly been a strange few weeks, Nell thought as she tended to all the flowers and plants. She was glad to be her usual self and to have the things around her seem normal again - at least for Fandom.