Stark Industries- Sunday

[thatwaslucky]

Rey had gotten a call to come home for a mission finally, and was trying to spend today getting things settled in time to leave tomorrow. Maybe it'd be an easy shift and she could leave early.

But no. Instead, the balls from the warehouse ball pit were now loose all over the floor, and Rey was trying to use the Force to scoop them up into one area so she could contain them. And then she'd have to make a warning sign...

"In the drawers, too?"

Better than kumquats, really.


[Open!]

The Perk, Sunday afternoon

[betterthanaplan]

Octavia was back. It'd be understandable to expect that Duke would be glued to her side, especially considering how hard he'd taken her disappearance in the first place. She'd barely been back more than 48 hours so far, after all. Hell, Duke would have expected himself to be glued to her side.

He couldn't explain why he wasn't. Why he'd felt the overwhelming urge to get away from his boat this afternoon, away from her pallor and silent, accusing eyes. Not forever. Just for a little while, an hour, probably less. Long enough to get coffee and a sandwich he didn't make himself. And then sit and watch one get cold and pick the other apart without really ingesting either of them.

He couldn't explain how angry he was (at her, at himself, at the island, at everything) or why he couldn't stop thinking about his goddamn father (sometimes people you loved disappeared and came back broken and needed you to fix them but wouldn't tell you why), he just knew he needed a second away from her, where he couldn't screw up and say the wrong thing (again). Where there were people who didn't need anything from him but his drink order and a decent tip.

(Sometimes the people you loved disappeared and came back broken and you just. Needed. Out.)

[open! You know, in case anyone wants some AGGRESSIVE MOODINESS flung at their characters]

Devil's Nest | Sunday Evening

[long_memory]

It had been a long, long time since Silver had an actual job but he had been in bars a whole lot since then so he was pretty confident he couldn't mess this up. Sure, he probably wouldn't be as enticing as Max when it came to tending bar but he also didn't have her breasts and French accent so he was at a disadvantage there.

He figured all he had to do was make sure no fights broke out and not get too sloshed off rum. Pretty easy compared to being the face of a war against England.

[Open, OCD-free]

Galactica Point, Sunday Afternoon

[my_own_advocate]

Octavia was definitely back, if in a mute kind of mood. So Lucifer did as he'd said and walked away, leaving the opening to her.

Of course, that just left him walking on an island where there wasn't actually a great deal to walk to. Certainly not on a Sunday. And he wasn't aware of anyone brooding - or anyone provoking said brooding - about the situation somewhere else.

His walk instead carried him directly to Galactica Point, where the waves crashed moodily into the shore. Why had he settled on such a small island, again?

Oh, right. Because it was the opposite of LA.

Lucifer sighed, sliding the phone out of his pocket. "Well, if Octavia's back," he said. His universe had slammed shut shortly after she left - maybe it was back, too?

His thumb slid over the Detective's number-- lingered-- and then moved up to Ella's. He pressed down.

No connection.

Lucifer let out a frustrated sigh. "It can't ever be bloody easy, can it?" he snapped irritably, turning his eyes up from the sea to the skies. "Oh, I'll be you think you're bloody funny, you perverse controlling bastard!"

Sigh.

[[ open ]]