Fandom Island Museum, Thursday Daytime

[hasaknightjob]

It was the gift giving season. As such, Steven was working on souvenirs that might be useful for the holidays. The museum hadn't done this sort of thing before, so Steven and Blathers had agreed to start small to see how it went.

As such, Steven was setting up a small display of Fandom Island Museum themed coffee mugs and keychains right there on the welcome desk. Once that was done, he worked very carefully on designing and printing a sign saying how they made a great gift.

He was of course interruptible by any visitors who might wish to come by.

[open]

Plant Parenthood; Thursday [11/30].

[what_big_teeth]

The drakondia that Eleanor had brought with her from her grandmother's greenhouse was, inexplicably and, if you asked her, against all odds, thriving now, and so she was feeling more confident about being able to uphold that aspect of the family legacy these days. A little less confident was some of the more magical aspects of her family legacy. Of course, she understood that she might not have any at all, just like she couldn't transform like her father's side of the family, but tarot, at least, seemed like something that didn't require someone to be a full-blown witch with spells and curses to be able to figure out.

And so she'd brought in her grandmother's old deck with her to work that day, expecting it to be fairly slow, like it always was on her days in the shop, shifting through it and comparing it to a book she'd picked up about the topic when she wasn't taking care of the things she did around the shop to justify her actual employment here.

Plant Parenthood is open!

Pixie Dust; Thursday [11/30].

[beautiful_boc]

It had been entirely by accident, of course, but Boc had actually gotten out and socialized (a little last week), which meant he was feeling pretty proud of himself, and also like he'd filled some sort of quota that would allow him to not have to worry about going out and about anytime soon, stumbling into a Friendsgiving should hold him over for quite some time now.

But what he was feeling far less confident about was the array of sweaters that had arrived that day, all of them very bright and colorful and gawdy, mostly red and green with slogans on them that he couldn't quite read, or snowmen or some man in a red suit that reminded him a bit of the merchant who had settled in the Church of Elleh just outside his home cave if he'd maybe gone to too many Friendsgivings...

Ugly, all of them. Horrid, actually, to the point where even Boc felt he would be less offensive than some of these sweaters, but he dutifully put them up and on display, all the while shaking his head and wondering if he would ever truly come to understand the way people seemed to prefer to dress in this world.

Pixie Dust is open!

The Photo Hut - Thursday

[flamesburned]

Liz had had a nice Thanksgiving with Prompto and Noctra and she was looking forward to getting ready for Christmas and the upcoming festive season. She was spending most of the morning finishing up some last end of month admin work before, which she didn’t have a lot of she decided to start bringing out the Christmas decorations so they were ready for decorating the store later.

[the Photo Hut is open!]

Trooper Station, Friday

[pocketpretzels]

Watts had given serious thought to throwing his mobile telephone into the ocean this morning. But no, it would not do to be unable to be contacted, and so he endured. The volume button on the device at least allowed him to turn the incessant noise down, though in a way having it almost but not quite inaudible was worse.

The computer that typically sat at his desk as well as the corded telephone had been unplugged and rather unceremoniously delegated to the area of the station outside of his office. He'd considered adding his own telephone to the pile, but had eventually opted to wrap it in a handkerchief and stuff it in a desk drawer, where at least it was... reasonably accessible. Sort of. Inaudible, in any case, except for when he periodically removed it to check for any missed calls or texts.

All this was of course exacerbated by the fact that the Troopers were (maddeningly enough, in perfect tune) singing what he assumed were the lyrics to the song.

Joyfully they ring, while people sing
Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here

The Trooper Station was open, the Sheriff's door was closed but knockable.