Furnado Animal Shelter Thursday [02/20].

[hashtag_chocobro]

In the last week or so, Prompto had noticed he'd gotten a little bit of an uptick in some random followers on his social media accounts, which was pretty awesome, but he hadn't really thought about it much, figuring they were mostly just bots or something. But then there were comments and likes and those comments had a lot of hearts in them and requests for more selfies (who ever asked Prompto for more selfies??), and then there was the one damning comment, the one that blew this mystery wide open, one commenting on how his most recent selfie "needed more glitter."

Prompto narrowed his eyes, a sinking feeling in his stomach, and, when he probably should have been working, but was instead just messing around on his phone and trying to crack this case while sitting in the puppy pen (also, a puppy had fallen asleep in his lap, and you did't just move a puppy that had fallen asleep in your lap!), he started to investigate.

Sure enough, all of the commenters had one thing in common: they were also following Nina's account.

Which lead him to looking back for pictures from last week's party.

Which meant he found....

"Gods-- dam-- Nin---!"

He had two very pressing questions in that moment: 1) How had he missed that when it was originally posted in the first place? and 2) If Nina's followers were seeing it, and Noctis and Ignis followed Nina's accounts, then therefor...

A groan escaped Prompto, head tilting back and wondering if the puppies could just bury him for good. But then, another thought: this was a week ago, and they hadn't said anything. Maybe they didn't see it? Or maybe they did, and they just weren't saying anything? Why weren't they saying anything? Them not saying anything was a good thing, though, right? Or...oh,gods, maybe them not saying anything was the worst thing! Should he say something? Or just pretend it never, ever, ever happened and pray that they were doing the very same thing?

OHGODS.

Furnado is open! And in the middle of a mild freakout.

The Perk; Thursday Afternoon [02/20].

[died8yearsago]

Rosa was usually the type of person who had absolutely no problem being antisocial and barely ever leaving her apartment, but, honestly, after last week where she'd spent maybe a handful of hours outside of it and that was about it, she was kind of sick of it. It was a weird feeling, and she didn't like it, and if it persisted, then she was maybe going to need to grab her bike and hit the road for a week or something, since it had been a while.

She'd maybe see how she felt once she got out for a bit, but, so far, it wasn't helping. She figured it was a perfect plan, go to the Perk, grab a coffee, and then just settle in a corner to read because she'd practically forgotten with all the commotion of last week that she had that new Crimson Portal book to finish. Also, she was vaguely worried that Anna Pavlova might be moving on from her shoe phase into a sort of book phase, and doubted she could get past the first chapter with that dog trying to eat it or something.

But she was getting impatient, because she was still waiting for her drink to come up, which made absolutely no sense, and she checked her watched, and was really questioning her ability to not just go back there and make it herself.

"It's a black coffee," she reminded them. "How long could it possibly take?"

Apparently, however long was needed for the narrative structure.

"What? Are you still growing the beans? Come on."

But the baristas just shrugged and gestured futilely toward the coffee maker, as if they really couldn't do anything about it, despite it being, you know, their jobs, but whatever.

[[ idk. it's open, though! ]]

Pixie Dust | Thursday

[that_oldsaying]

Was this what owning a shop was like?

Sure, Alluka had been here yesterday, but after a night spent thinking about the front windows and looking at her pictures and even doodling (her doodles were terrible) out little potential layouts, she'd found herself coming in today as well.

"Alright," Alluka said, to Mr. Bubbles, who guarded the snacks and tea they had set up on the counter vigilantly. "We'll start with this one space and see what works here before we even touch the other half, okay?"

That seemed like a good plan to her, even though Mr. Bubbles was more interested in whether or not the cookies had strawberry or grape jelly in them.

(Alluka maybe helped herself to a cookie or two before she actually got to work; the answer was there was both kinds!)

Pixie Dust is Open!

[Up by request, but also totally, totally open!]

Along Apocalypse Ave, Thursday Evening

[my_own_advocate]

Dr. Linda wanted Lucifer back in therapy.

Well, those hadn't been the words, exactly. 'I'm worried about you' and 'would it be all right if I called you more often' were the specific phrases used. Whatever they were, though, she was clearly done leaving Lucifer to noodle at his own thoughts, and he couldn't entirely blame her.

But between that, and last week's mildly desperate high finally settling back down, he found himself restless. Not quite ready to escape back to the mainland, but not quite able to settle in his own home, either, he went for a stroll.

Along Apocalypse Ave, after nightfall, with the light settling on the water, Fandom was almost picturesque. Pretty, even. It still didn't make him long for a decent skyline any less, but at least roving meant he could put the roving thoughts down for a bit.

[[ open. ]]

Covent Garden Flowers, Thursday

[okteiviakom]

Octavia couldn't remember the last time she'd done as much resting as she had this week. Guess last week had been a lot, both physically as well as emotionally. But today was Thursday, and so she was at the flower shop, and actually in a good mood for once.

She'd say it was because the Valentine's Day crap was all gone, and that was part of it. Just wasn't all of it.

She was putting some new stock on display - some weird but pretty purple flowers from who knows where - and occasionally humming softly to herself.

Covent Garden Flowers was open.

Luke's, Thursday

[betterthanaplan]

"You caught a swordfish?!"

"What?" Duke gave Tony a hefty amount of side-eye. "No."

"This recipe calls for swordfish."

"It calls for fish steak like swordfish. We're using tuna."

Tony pouted.

"Dude. First, if I did catch a swordfish, I wouldn't bring it in to cook in a diner. Second." Duke patted his cooler. "How would a whole swordfish even fit in here?" He shoved the cooler into Tony's chest. "We're using tuna. Very nice tuna, that has been caught fresh. Now please start cleaning the fish."

Tony took the cooler and shuffled off towards the prep counter, looking put out. Duke rolled his eyes.

"Swordfish. In a diner. Really now."

Today's specials
Catch of the day!
Winter roasted TUNA with citrus sauce

Luke's was open and OCD free.

Covent Garden Flowers, Friday (2/21)

[notarockharpist]

This week was ... definitely not like last week, in terms of both business and personal comfort level, and while Yasha was absurdly, profoundly grateful for that she also found that being too busy to dwell very much on her own thoughts had been a relief in itself. She missed it, in a way.

She'd gotten an order almost first thing this morning for a floral wreath centerpiece that someone wanted for a party they were having. It was an opportunity to get a little bit more advanced with her flower arrangement technique, and so she'd be spending a good portion of her day twisting bits of wire into various shapes. Bare-handed, because who needed the help of pliers, anyway? This was easy.

That was followed up by sticking various flowers and bits of foliage into the resulting wreath shape, and then experimenting with some battery operated candle lights to add a little extra something to the design.

It was a work in progress, but ... well, it was coming along. Slowly.

[OOC: ... you don't even know how much I wish it had been established as canon last week that this girl goes commando. Anyway, shop and post are open, although who even knows what kind of SP might ensue. What the hell even has my week been.]