Stark Industries- Sunday

[thatwaslucky]

Rey wasn't a naturally tense person anyway, but today was... different than normal. Her gremlin assistant seemed to be having a terrible day, and after a while she began to suspect he was breaking things on purpose, but but that was okay. She'd clean up the mess and start fixing things.

She didn't even mind when he re-broke the thing she'd just finished fixing. Silly gremlin, this could all wait till next week.


[Open!]

Luke's- Sunday

[complexfemale]

Maeve would like it to be known that she was totally normal.

It was not the case for the rest of the staff. The busboy was glaring at everyone, the cook was happily talking but too relaxed to actually do anything, and she was getting the feeling it was just going to be one of those days.

SPECIALS
GOOD LUCK WITH THAT


[Open!]

The Perk; Sunday Afternoon [03/14].

[chef_chocobro]

Considering that yesterday had been incredibly frustrating for Ignis (he had been quite convinced that living with a cat was possibly one of the worst ideas anyone could ever conceive of and it was beyond his comprehension that anyone should find cooking beans as challenging as his roommate seemed to have found them, and it certainly didn't help that Seivarden seemed terribly distracted the whole time, driving Ignis nearly to the very edge of his sanity), today was...remarkably, somehow, the exact opposite. He found himself relaxed in a way that he had, quite frankly, never experience before in his entire life. Every worry, every care...every duty...that had been beset on his shoulders since a very young age had just been....completely lifted. He felt liberated. He felt free. He felt...

Well, rather lazy, to be honest, but without even a moment's guilt about it. He had actually slept in late into the day. He hadn't bothered even styling his hair. He could have made his own coffee, but why bother when he could just go down to the Perk and have someone make it for him? And now that he was there, also enjoying a pastry with his beverage, he got to thinking that there really was no rush to even get back to Insomnia as usual, now, was there? It wasn't like Insomnia was going anywhere; it would still be there if he left tonight as planned, or tomorrow, or....maybe sometime later in the week. Or not at all. What was the hurry?

His whole life had been about living by someone else's timetable and demands; it was high time he started to enjoy some of that time for himself.

Or, really, mostly, he didn't see the point in bothering at the moment.

He didn't see much of a point in bothering with too much of anything, honestly.


[[ open for all your perkly needs, of course! ]]

Devil's Nest | Sunday Evening

[long_memory]

Silver had noticed that weird little crystal thing on his stomach yesterday and spent a lot of time worrying about what it meant. Let's just say he spent a lot of time on WebMD and convinced himself he had several types of terminal illnesses.

Today, however, he was pretty okay with it. Que sera sera and all that. There was rum, he was content to be at work. He would have been content to be anywhere today, really.

Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Sunday [03/14].

[special_rabbit]

Yesterday had been a great day for Amaya; she felt incredibly relaxed, had herself some nice tea, a good book, some fine work done in the greenhouse. Which seemed to make it all the more the shame that it didn't carry into the next day at all.

The way she felt that morning when she finally groggily woke up seemed to be taking the idea of 'waking up on the wrong side of the bed' to new levels.

Not even the lobsters could make her feel better.

In fact, the lobsters very much almost ended up in a pot.

They would have been in a pot if it weren't for the fact that Amaya had a very good, time-honored tradition for dealing with moods just like this one, and that was going down into the forge and taking out all her unbridled and unaccounted for anger on some metal with a big hammer.

Of course, the only problem with that was that one really should keep one's temper when tempering weapons. The flares of the flames of rage within her were far too heated for the work, and she kept messing things up in very obvious and simple ways, which only seemed to make things worse.

"Ahhhhh, zards!"

The clanging of her hammer against steel quickly turned into a depressing clank.

"Confound it!"

A mighty swing sent the hammer flying out of Amaya's hand an into the Crumbler.

"Blast!"

Amaya got a little too close to the fire and wound up singing part of her skirt.

"Ohhhh....Fuck!"

This may have been a terrible idea.

The Forge is open!

JGoB, Sunday early afternoon

[stykera]

Stark was in a terrible mood today. He hadn't slept well, or slept much at all. At first he'd been too anxious to rest and at some point in the night he'd switched over to being angry about his inability to sleep.

Things had not improved after he'd given up on resting. An attempt at breakfast had been a disaster and nearly inedible (someone who wasn't in the worst mood might have considered it perfectly fine). Then there had been raccoons again. Why were there always raccoons on his balcony? He'd yelled and thrown the remains of his breakfast at one (which, being raccoons, they were probably excited about) after opening the door.

Eventually he'd stomped off to the bakery in hopes that would help. But probably nothing would help.

It didn't help. He'd yelled at a baker over a lack of good chocolate options (who had yelled right back) and at guy behind the counter who had just shrugged and taken it in stride. Somehow, that was even more irritating than if he'd been angry back.

Stark was now seated at a table, glaring at the bakery staff, especially the one who had come over and been cheerful at him, and picking at a cupcake that was doing nothing to improve his mood.


[Am I channeling my tech support related rage right now? Maaaaaybe. Open post is open, cranky alien is cranky but will feel bad about later!]