Furnado Animal Shelter; Friday,, 01/24.

[in_sidon_we_trust]

By the time Sidon got to the animal shelter for his usual shift, most of the animals had actually lost the hats that Prompto had given them, though a surprising number of them still appeared to be fashionably accessorized. But, of course, Sidon't attention was on the small bag of the tiniest fezzes imaginable that was waiting for him on the counter with a note:

Sidon!

Yo! What's up! I made fezzes for the fish, but couldn't figure out how to actually get them on, but since you're the expert, I figured you'd have better luck!

Or, you know, you could just ignore this, it's probably a stupid idea anyway, just never mind!!

--P.

That last part made Sidon frown a little, because how could he ever think something so marvelous would be a stupid idea?? And, just to prove it to Prompto, he made it his dedicated goal for the day to make sure all those fish were properly and fashionably outfitted after all!

And so his day became attempting to put hats on fishes and, somehow, not even once, did he take a moment and wonder what in the world he was doing with his life.

Furnado is open!

The warehouse where the training happens- Friday afternoon

[thatwaslucky]

Rey was getting back to basics a little at the warehouse today and was practicing with her staff. On top of it being a weird week, people from other versions of her galaxy would be in town this weekend and she did have some nerves about it. It wasn't like she hadn't met most of the people who'd probably be there, but she was different now, and she didn't know who all knew that, and so it felt interesting. And nerve-wracking.

So yeah, it was good to get back to something old for the moment. This was especially true when she had so much to do and practice and learn and read now that she never had time for everything. Maybe she just had to get better at making time.


[Open!]

Covent Garden Flowers, Friday (1/24)

[goldfishontherocks]

Someone had put in an order for an arrangement of birds of paradise last week, which Keyleth was expecting in today.

The small flock of brightly colored tropical birds that greeted her when she came in, chirping merrily and swarming around her while some of them flew up to perch in her circlet's antlers, was not what she was expecting.

"This is not --" She sighed. "You're very pretty, please don't get me wrong, but -- you're not what I --"

How was she going to put this without possibly hurting the birds' feelings?

She had no idea. Which was why she was attempting to call the supplier back with a bunch of birds on her head, and a couple of handfuls of goodberries spread out across the counter for them to eat.

[OOC: Iiiiiiiiiiiiii'm still dead of last night's CR. Oh my god. Post is open, though!]

Jeff, God of Biscuits, Friday Afternoon

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer craved pastries.

And yet, as of ten minutes after walking into JGoB's, he had no pastries. Because someone apparently had a hard time making decisions.

"Maybe the chocolate muffin," mused the woman standing in front of her, endlessly agonizing over what was behind the glass.

"I already have my order," Lucifer said, raising his voice. "Can I please--?"

"Chill out, dude," said the kid behind the counter. "Let her choose!"

He was going to murder someone.

[[ open! ]]

Trooper Station, Friday

[firstofitskind]

Liam still wasn't really feeling himself today, but he did have a job to do. The Trooper Station paperwork was never-ending, after all. The Troopers themselves had taken one look at him and immediately started walking on figurative eggshells, and literal tiptoe. As if that would somehow help.

(Liam had to admit, managing to walk on tiptoe in those boots was impressive, but he would've preferred if they'd just acted like their normal goddamn selves).

He sang quietly to himself as he started to sign off on the forms, mind drifting.

u ju
uji java
ujavi juvata
ujuvata

i üi
iüashimi iüasha

Something warm and soft pressed against his leg, startling him out of the fugue he'd nearly drifted in to, and he stared down first at the station cat, and then at the Incident Report he'd been filling in detailing James the raccoon's latest exploits. Perfectly legible and understandable...

If you read Eunoia.

Which no one on this island did.

"Damn it," he sighed, scrapping the whole thing and starting again.

[ooc: opennnn!]

The Holoscene, Friday

[thishouseishaunted]

Mae's "civilized" class on Fridays was kind of fun, in that it was entertaining to see what sorts of faces the teacher would make at Mae's attempts to wear gloves. But it was also kind of frustrating and irritating because she was not a Victorian dandy so why did she have to wear gloves?

Why did she have to be civilized, for that matter?

So she was taking her frustrations today out in the Holoscene, beating up holographic trashcans and trash-mans and trash-ladies and trash-non-of-the-aboves with her holographic baseball bat, all while shrieking like a banshee.

It was very theraputic. Mae was thinking she should make start a class. Nina had a class, so she could, too, right? A "How to be beating up holographic things with a baseball bat and screaming like a banshee" class. . . .

[open! No OCD, just let me know if you wanna mod a holosuite and not interact]