Fandom Island and Town

It was one of those Mondays that had Joan remembering how much fun it was to be twenty-two. While she still was only thirty young, her body was more inclined now to clue her into things she couldn't do anymore, such as enjoy three cocktails while watching terrible television without feeling it the next day.

She was still perfectly coiffed and made up, and it'd be hard to tell she was feeling under the weather, unless you were looking for it. But today, at least, she wasn't drinking at work. At least, nothing but water.

[open, though I go AFKish around 4:30 EST!]

Joan still didn't exactly know her way around computers, but she knew enough to make her just the eeeeensiest bit dangerous. More dangerous than usual, anyway. So it was on this sunny almost-spring day that Joan pulled her new laptop up into the bar, comfortably settling into a booth to work on electronically restoring the bar's inventory.

And if she accidentally stumbled across some shoe sites, well, a girl had to be given time to learn.

[mild SP after about 4:30 EST but yay open!]

Joan was normally quite above this sort of behavior. She inspired this sort of thing, where she was from. But all morning, she had found herself highly distracted by the simplest things -- such as picking up Eric's leather pants from the dry cleaners. The sheer mental imagery had nearly left her fanning herself.

So she did what she always did: she repressed it for now, however she could. She was sitting in a booth in the bar as she went over tax documents today, because that was the least sexy thing she could find. She was smoking, and rather than anything with a kick, she'd gotten some ice water.

In case it was needed to pour on herself, rather than drink.

[open, yes!]

Being mostly unable to travel was, not to put too fine a point on it, a pain in the ass for Joan.

It wasn't like she'd particularly gotten used to the idea of portals yet, no, or this 'traveling through dimensions' thing. While it was all still new, she'd at least managed to get here just fine. But when Eric had left her a list of things to accomplish in Louisiana, and Joan had discovered that getting to his particular version of Shreveport would involve at least three layovers in Alaska, Timbuktu, and something involving an arena for the 72nd something-or-other games -- well, no thank you. She'd just figure out her phone, finally.

Half an hour into it, Joan had needed coffee desperately. And while she wasn't allowing any of her harriedness show in her features, it didn't change the fact that she was quietly chain-smoking and sipping something whipped and delicious and Italian in the coffee shop as she snapped on the phone. "I understand that, sir, but Mr. Northman simply will not settle for anything other than B-positive. No, sir, not AB-negative. I believe I was very clear in my request, and if you can't adhere to my Mr. Northman's understandably high standards, then I'm afraid I'll have to take our business elsewhere." A pause, and then, "Yes, that means the liquor supply for both bars as well. Yes, it would be quite difficult for most people to find another vendor at last minute notice, but I've already got a list of available -- oh, you've found a case of B-positive? What wonderful luck."

And with that taken care of, Joan was able to draw a neat line through Resupply both bars + E's TB stash. She was just going to sit here and eye her phone and smoke for a moment before tackling the next few items. Doing this in person was far easier.

[open omg!]

When Joan sauntered her way into the club, flicking on the house lights as she peeled off her gloves and adjusted her updo after unpinning her hat, she realized she had absolutely no idea where to start. Though the office was probably promising. And when she got down there and realized that first, she was alone in the building today, and secondly, Eric kept files in several languages she didn't recognize.

So Joan pulled the files out, bringing them up into the club proper so she'd have not only light but comfort to work in, and set to the task of organizing them by language. There were so many with umlauts, though. She had to guess a bit for those.

And if she was repressing the fact that there had been small people running around all weekend, and she was fairly sure her boss had been a child who'd wanted to slide for her...well. Could you blame her?

[open, hooray!]

When Joan had arrived on this funny little island, she'd immediately wanted to find somewhere to relax, and maybe take in a little people-watching before her meeting. And while she was a little thrown by what was essentially a job interview in the evening, it wasn't exactly unheard of - how many times had she made reservations for the boys to take a client out for drinks? It wasn't so different, she supposed.

Even so, she knew that rather than a drink, she needed a pick-me-up. So Joan found herself a cute little coffee shop, marveled at the exotic drinks (she had no idea what a macchiato might be; time to brush up on her Italian) and found herself a seat with her coffee.

She was slowly noticing the odd technology and clothing. Somehow, a jump forty-one years into the future hadn't occurred to her yet.

[some sp for the next hour or two but otherwise open yay!]