Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Friday [07/10].

[special_rabbit]

As promised in her announcement to her class that morning, Amaya was working around the shop that day, taking care of various things...forging up some new steel, making some molds from some nice molten metal, welding...

Look. At this point, the inside of the forge and all the heat-related activities a fully-functional forge consisted of wasn't really that much hotter than what it was like outside, so it really didn't matter that much, and Amaya was used to it, and she at least had protective leather aprons in the shop because even the island knew the importance of proper protective materials when working with stuff like this!

She wasn't really expecting anyone to be coming around even if they were disappointed in the cancellation, but she'd have felt like a bad teacher if the option for a sort of alternative lesson wasn't at least available.

The Forge is open!

Trooper Station, Friday

[firstofitskind]

Liam had gathered from Tuesday's radio broadcast that things in Fandom were starting to get weird in a way that was going to end up more irritating than actually dangerous. Thus, he'd made the decision to pack up the mice (and his wife the currently-a-flying-squirrel) and decamp to Dominic's apartment on the mainland for the time being, minus short jaunts to the island for workshops and, well. Work.

The mice, naturally, had been thrilled for the opportunity to spend some time in the company of the Priest of Hard Choices In Dark Places when it wasn't a life-or-death situation. The aforementioned Priest was cycling through more than a few feelings on the matter, though for the most part seemed to vacillate between 'bemused' and 'resigned'. With a side of 'concerned' when presented at last with irrefutable proof that the non-mouse-shaped furry guest Liam had shown up with was, in fact, Verity and his claim a few weeks ago that 'Yeah, she's turned into a flying squirrel, it's a thing that happens sometimes' had not been an attempt at pulling his leg after all.

(Irrefutable proof courtesy of an episode of Dance or Die. Even without being able to speak English, she'd somehow still made it clear that she had Opinions regarding some of the dancers.)

The point was, he showed up for his shift at the Station that morning fully dressed, and thank god the place had a generator because it was hot enough that he would've been deeply, deeply uncomfortable otherwise- he wasn't really a walking-around-shirtless kind of guy for a lot of reasons (would the island let him stay fully clothed for the whole day? Only time would tell, naturally). As it was, he didn't want to strain the generator so while normally he might have had the AC absolutely blasting on a day like this, instead it was only 'mildly uncomfortable' within the confines of the Trooper Station. Where he had- huh.

Another personnel file on his desk.

"That figures," he muttered to himself with a snort as he started to flip through said file and realized just who it was about.

[ooc: open, barely-functional-AC and all!]

The park- Friday afternoon

[thatwaslucky]

Right, so Rey didn't know about this today. The warehouse had some light from the outside, but it was mostly dark, which made it cooler, which also meant it had that gross, stuffy, closed-in quality to it, and she couldn't get rid of that without opening the door and letting hot air in. She found a woodchuck that she'd thought was hurt or sick, but it turns out it had just flopped and waved her off before throwing something at her.

So Rey was in the park under a tree for shade, and had texted Anakin to let him know she was here. She didn't think it was so bad right here, but she was used to the heat, and she'd even managed to work a bedsheet into something that vaguely looked like her usual clothes, so it kept her covered while letting her breathe.

Some people adapt easily.


[Open!]

Town Hall, Friday

[fjordicswagger]

People were losing their pants. And other clothes. And it was hot.

Tamsin, wearing nothing but her underwear, parked her feet up on her desk. She picked up the letter again.

--the theft of my wardrobe is utterly unacceptable. I suggest you take steps to remedy the current situation. If not, we'll take care of it ourselves--

"Like to see you try, tough guy," she said, and cracked up. She threw the letter back onto the desk. "Hey, what's-her-name! Hurry up, these people aren't going to make fun of themselves!"

Your mayoral system was working as designed.

[[ open ]]