Fandom Post Office, January 7 (Tuesday)

[filleauloup]

Was it a shame that one of the first things Éponine had thought, upon finding out about all those mysterious little gift packages that were responsible for kidnapping people, was that no one had better suspect it had been her making those deliveries? Probably (and it was hardly the first time the island would have taken it upon itself to do something like that), but she'd thought it anyway.

She'd been particularly paranoid on guard ever since then, though, and glanced up in suspicion every time the front door to the post office opened. That was just how it was going to be until this whole thing was resolved, apparently.

[OOC: I'm not even going to hint that I might be able to pick up pings until this evening, but open anyway. Also, please send wine kthx.]

The Park, Tuesday afternoon, January 7, 2020

[heroic_jawline]

Well. It wasn't the stupidest plan Steve had ever heard of (that one still went to "let's drop a bomb into a hurricane full of sharks!") but if Nina's oh-so-handwavy message about a ritual that involved hand holding and singing and showing that they all had peace and joy and whatever in their hearts, Steve was up for it.

He'd find someone to punch over it later.

So here he was, in the park with song lyrics printed out helpfully for folks who hadn't memorized the song last night, ready to use his very best Captain America is Disappointed in You face to get people to play along with this and hopefully get their people back.

The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

[my_own_advocate]

Was anything happening in town? Had anything happened? Either Lucifer hadn't noticed, or, more likely, he'd simply decided it wasn't worth his time.

"There must be some kind of way out of here, said the joker to the thief..."

... okay, All Along The Watchtower was just a personal favorite. It wasn't commentary at all. Honest.

Either way, the club was open, and Lucifer was behind the piano.

[[ open! mod your own drinks or bug lucifer, no ocd tonight ]]