(no subject)

[vance_prime]

It's early morning out behind Milliways. The sun is just beginning to peek over the treetops, and the heat of an August day won't set in for a few more hours yet. All is still and quiet.

Which makes it the perfect time and place for Alyx to do her yoga exercises. Usually she doesn't start this early, but she was up half the night because the twins were being fussy, so she figures she might as well.

Interrupt her. We dare you.

[ooc: Subject to immediate slowtime since I gotta go to work.]

(no subject)

[mr_gaeta]

[Not-quite-OOM, just prior: Physical therapy.]


"One more" turns into three more exercises by the time Gaeta departs the infirmary. Awful as he felt, it didn't feel right to leave off after so few; at least this way, he isn't wasting his or Dr. Tam's time with such a brief session.

Whether he'll be able to move from the couch he just collapsed on is another story. After requesting a glass of water from a waitrat, he gulps down three painkillers (the usual dose is two, but frak it, he hurts so much right now) before stretching along the couch's full length. Some minutes later, the same waitrat returns with a silver tray.

Gaeta eyes the tray's contents. "Um."

The rat chitters.

"Sorry for the language, but...what the frak is that?"

Squeak.

In lieu of pointing out that he doesn't speak rat, Gaeta just sighs, scoops up the small -- very colorful -- magazine, and opens it to take a look.

Apparently there's a tie-in comic book series for that famous squopera, Tentacles of Our Waves. Who knew.



[ooc: in and out for a bit, but back for good at 10 PM eastern!]

Happy Hour

[gryphon_leaper]

The Bar, as is sometimes its wont, is a quietly unresponsive piece of wood-work. As happens most nights, there is someone behind it, tending. But this time differs; there is no chalkboard, nor are there pictures on offer. Instead, several amphorae have been positioned along the bar: one holds a deep, dark red wine, one unlikely to be wise to drink without being mixed with water, another a paler, almost tawny-colored wine, and a few others. All of them save the last hold some form of alcohol. The last offers only water.

The one tending the bar is a girl of perhaps fifteen, dressed in very little clothing and a great deal of jewelry. When one first achieves bull-leaper status before the Cretan crowds it tends to attract gifts, and everyone knows bull-dancers are showy and love finery. The Cretan nobles who have seen the Gryphons perform took swiftly to Thalestris, sending arm-rings and earrings and a great collar-like necklace of the sort the Egyptians wear, with the fine linen that they hang from it that's held to the body by a belt worked in gold and ivory. . If armor might be made of stuff as soft as gold she would be kitted out for battle.

The Bar made it plain she had to serve drinks this night, but gave her no more information than that.

(no subject)

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

[OOM:

Moonlight becomes you, it goes with your hair
You certainly know the right thing to wear
Moonlight becomes you, I'm thrilled at the sight
And I could get so romantic tonight]


[ooc: Adult content warning applies.]