Groovy Tunes; Thursday [09/23].

[x_discospider_x]

Troy was having a really good week, to the point where he almost thought about actually doing some of the reading for his literature class on his shift that Thursday, but the stereo seemed to be on a really big saxophone jazz kick that day, which was...not very good music to try and read through. So he wound up just mostly doing organizational tasks while drumming beats on everything (and when he was pretty sure no one was around, dancing, because how could he not?), and that suited him just fine, too.

Especially since he had this cool new hat.

Groovy Tunes is open!

Community Center Class: Beyond Cup Noodle; Thursday Evening [09/23].

[chef_chocobro]

"Welcome back, everyone," Ignis greeted the class as usual from the front of the room, tossing something small and round in his hand casually, but very gently, until everyone was settled at their stations and no doubt noticed that each one contained a likely very recognizable carton. "Last week, we were able to talk about the versitility of the humble potato," the boundaries of which were no doubt pushed too far by some, Tisarwat, "and this week, I'd like to focus on another simple staple that is loaded with nutrients that can make an easy and fulfiling option in any circumstance. I am, of course, speaking of a food that is rather deceptive in its simplicity, and that is the egg."

With that, he tossed the egg in his hand up a little higher, catching it easily, and holding it up before a flip of his wrist cradled it back in his palm and he set that one aside.

"There are a great many ways eggs can be prepared, but today, we're going to focus on six of the most basic and on perfecting those before we delve into things more complicated. There is much to be said about having a mastery over the simple basics, and that is what this particular class is all about."

"Let us start, then," he said, moving around to the other side of the station at the front of the class room so he could begin breaking down the different styles in earnest, "with the soft boiled egg..."

Which moved naturally into hard boiled, then poaching, then frying...both 'sunny-side up' and the much more delicate 'over easy', and then "when all else fails," scrambled, all explained in the patient, low-key passionate way he had even managed to approach something like boiling water in earlier classes.

"A little salt, a little pepper, should be all you need to truly enhance the flavor of a well-prepared egg, and you're finished. Sound simple enough, right? Well, then. Let's see if it's as easy in practice as it sounds in theory! Any questions before we begin?"

Thursday- Fix and Clean Shop

[alwaysonguard]

Dwight was busy in the shop downstairs early that morning, as usual. A fresh pot of coffee had just finished brewing and sat on the counter tempting him for a refill of his mug again. He had lost track of how long he had been up for, but he had yet again watched the sun rise from his apartment upstairs. And rather than going for another run, Dwight decided to work down in the shop and check out the latest supply delivery that had come in the other day.

With the newly repaired radio playing softly, Dwight MIGHT have found himself singing along to the current song as he worked. The shop was coming together nicely and he finally had enough extra inventory and variety to start organizing the shop by categories. So, there he was, organizing and taking stock of the inventory as he went, after getting another cup of coffee of course.

The Perk, Thursday morning

[stykera]

It was officially fall now, according to the calendar, and the baristas had seemingly embraced that fact. Someone at the Perk had fully embraced the season, in any case, as evidenced by the day's decor (pumpkin themed), the sweaters worn by all of staff (the air conditioning had been turned up) and the signs advertising an assortment of fall flavored drinks (pumpkin, apple, caramel, cinnamon, etc).

Stark had considered the pumpkin spice coffee since he genuinely did like the flavor but went with the cinnamon crunch ice latte instead. He didn't remember seeing it offered before and it was covered in whipped cream and cinnamon sugar. How could he resist?

He found a table near the door with his coffee, and a pumpkin cookie because it seemed like the thing to do, and sat for a while.

[Open! Trying to manifest a calm work day by posting but I may disappear for stretches until 3:30 EST if school is a disaster. We'll see.]

The beach, Thursday

[existencemisspent]

Eliot was exhausted. But, like, in a familiar way, and one he was pretty sure he’d brought on himself for talking to the man with a literal evil eye staring out of him. He’d tried throwing himself into redoing the new house, but he could only take so much of Margo eying him with increasing annoyance and concern, so he decided to take himself for a walk, today.

Which eventually led to him sprawling artfully along a conveniently bench-shaped rock along the beach to enjoy a cigarette and the sunshine and all the ways this tiny little bumfuck town didn’t remind him of the tiny little bumfuck town he’d grown up in.

He’d gone to the seaside, he decided. To take in the air. It was all very healthy — so long as you ignored the cigarette.

[quite open, yes!]

Devil's Nest, Thursday, September 23, 2021

[texted3times]

Eric had managed to shove Lucifer's giant, ugly piano outside (which was surely good for it) and replaced the empty space with a disco ball and a giant (tasteful! truly!) fluorescent wall light that blinked "AXES" and then "ERIC" at different, non-seizure-inducing intervals.

It was...a thing that was happening, that was for sure.

The music was Europop, the drinks were strong and the sign on the bar reminded you that there was only one drinking day until your relatives-and/or-friends showed up tomorrow.

When there would ALSO be drinking, but you'd probably have to invite them.

The Devil's Nest was open! And piano free, at least for the moment.

Pick Your Poison, Thursday

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Eliot had an Eldritch whatever attached to his brain, sucking down his nightmares like he was a cup of soda with infinite fucking free refills. The guy responsible was a sad sack of a man who barely knew anything, and they were in this situation because he’d tripped over his own shoelaces once right into fucking Eldritch god juice.

Margo had a headache.

Margo wanted a goddamn massage, her book, and her new Mr. Hitachi.

Instead Margo was at work, sitting on the floor between the scented candles, trying to remember second year Brakebills bullshit about energy cords. She hated everything. Everything.

Except for Eliot. She hated his dumb fucking stoic silent drunken bullshit, but she could never hate him.

[ open! ]