The Park, Sunday Morning

[stykera]

Stark had spent a long time on the beach yesterday, enjoying sunshine and fresh air and views that didn't end with cave walls, but had eventually gone inside for the night. But he hadn't slept well (maybe 2.5 weeks underground had that effect, or maybe it was his insistence on keeping the lights on, or maybe it was a combination of the two things and others) and had given up on more sleep fairly early this morning.

He could have stayed inside (maybe taken the time to shave his head and face which were both on the fuzzier side of things after all that time in the hole) but he was still feeling restless. That wasn't likely to end all that soon. Instead he'd gotten up and headed to the Perk. The coffee wasn't really a substitute for sleep but it was better than nothing.

Now he was seated on a bench in the park, sipping his coffee, and occasionally glancing around as if to reassure himself that everything was where it was meant to be. And if he was keeping a close eye on the ground, just in case, who could blame him?

[Open post is open for Park or Stark needs, of course]

The Junkyard; Sunday Afternoon [07/18].

[somethingwithturquoise]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, so Summer knew her ship was in good hands because of Rey, and, in fact, it was hard not to notice that improved paint job that meant, somehow, it had come out of the hole looking better than it did going in, but she, who had been trying to seem very casual about the potential lost of her own personal intergalactic method of travel despite having literally drawn up designs and plans to foist on Barry immediately if the poor thing wound up RIP-ing in pieces, was going to spend a good chunk of time that Sunday, now that she had it back, looking it over, checking it out, searching for any issues or injuries it might have taken on, and generally giving it as much love, attention, care and tune-ups as her limited but not unsubstantial amount of skill could provide.

Everything...seemed okay, though. Just like a lot of the buildings that got taken would be, too, she realized. So she sucked in a breath, and realized that the reason she was focusing so much on her ship right now (or the reason she had focused so much on her ship in the first place) was because it was much easier to see that it would be fine, even if it hadn't been fine. But it was much more difficult to know if the people involved in all of this would be fine...

Summer frowned a little at her ship as this thought began to percolate into some top choice fodder for her next therapy session.

"Geez," she murmured to it, mostly under her breath, "you couldn't have at least had something wrong with you so that I could just focus on fixing that right now, could you?"

She was definitely considered just throwing her own wrench into things to mess things up just to be able to have that to focus on instead, but, in the meantime, it was back to tinkering and checking things for the umpteenth time as if maybe she'd missed something with the previous passes.


[[ yeah, apparently F all my other characters who might have things to go through right now. Open junkyard is open! With a possible SP-from-me caveat slapped on because that's just my life now ]]

Devil's Nest | Sunday Evening

[long_memory]

The bar had certainly looked better, but it looked pretty good considering where it had been for a week. Tiny was already on top of ordering more of what had been pilfered throughout the week and Silver was doing his best going through what was leftover.

Honestly, what was leftover was probably left there for a reason. This stuff looked disgusting.