Happy birthday, Enzo!

[a1enzo]

[OOM: In his own world, Enzo celebrates his birthday with family and friends.]

Out by the Caribbean inlet this afternoon/evening, a makeshift boardwalk has been set up on the beach, and on and around the boardwalk, a small funfair. Booths offer carnival games for prizes; waitrats are dispensing food (free; it's a party) from the type of carts normally associated with hot dog vendors, although there's rather more variety available here. Beachy music—with, if you pay attention, oddly computer-centric lyrics—plays over loudspeakers.

And, of course, the sand and waves are ever so inviting.

[OOC: Party time! All Enzo's friends are invited, of course, but everyone is welcome! Open forever, slowtime is love! Slowtime is really love, in fact, because I'll be in the car for hours today and Sunday and have to tag very slowly via Kindle, and Saturday is my sister-in-law's baby shower...]

(no subject)

[balancingminds]

Since that strange night, Charles has been an owl. He hasn't seen anyone he knows and has been enjoying flying around outside but he wants to get back to himself. This is awkward and his feathers require a lot of work.

Today he is perched on the back of a chair with a newspaper laid out on the table and a small bowl of nuts. He refuses to eat a mouse or bird even if some of them do look tasty.

Tiny tag: Palamedes
(OOC: Open all weekend. Charles will be speaking telepathically into your pup's head if he decides to talk to them. If they have mental shields, let me know, as he's sort of listening, just not as much as usual. Being an owl is distracting. Also ignore the rather large timestamp from one thread to the other, its been my first week of work. Thank you.)

(no subject)

[spaceblasterchic]

Barbarella (where'd she come from? Where'd she GO?) is seated at a large table, several small pieces of plastic and metal scattered around her glass of something sparkly.

She twirls a bit of hair around her finger as she squints at a metal cartridge. Letting go of her hair, she picks up an oily rag and begins to scrub out the inside of the cartridge.

"Honestly," she tells the space blaster parts good naturally, "you are sometimes more trouble than you're worth."

"Oh, who am I kidding? You are entirely worth it." She kisses the cartridge and moves on to the next part.

What can she say? She loves her loyal guns!

(no subject)

[thekidfrombrooklyn]

Steve has discovered the gym.

He'd love to spar with someone in the boxing ring, but he's not sure there's anyone he won't, um, damage. Badly.

So he's whaling on a punching bag instead, working out all of that pent-up energy.



(His unit leaves for the continent in a few days. His energy will have a more productive outlet soon enough.)



[tiny tag: Minty]

[ooc: Slowtime on all threads, please!]

(no subject)

[nerves_of_ice]

Looks like Steve was right about him being able to find the end-of-the-universe bar once he'd been shown the way.

Although he hadn't exactly been trying, Bucky's rather satisfied with that right now, all told. It's not that he doesn't like hanging out with the rest of the Commandos, it's just that sometimes when they really get going, it's nice to have the option to do a quick fade.

Besides, he's not had the chance to give the rest of the place a full look-see yet. Once he gets a drink, maybe he'll do just that.


[OOC: Slowtime in effect as of midnight Mountain time. I'll tag up again tomorrow. Love to you all!]

First Entrance Post

[poins]

One tavern in Eastcheap is much like another tavern in Eastcheap, and even a discerning man cannot discern much between them. A less discerning man, however, will know the inn-keepers and wenches, and where his drinks will be chalked up without complaint, and where he must pay coin.

Ned Poins is one such undiscerning man who knows them all by heart; and when he saunters in today he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that this is not a tavern in Eastcheap.

Appointed much like a nobleman's home, but set up much like a tavern.

A stately country inn for travelling merchants?

But not in Eastcheap, surely?

(no subject)

[thegoodeson]

You know what was missing in the bar tonight? That lovely little touch of teenage boy angst. Luckily, Sam's just wandered in to fill that void with that certain kind of face you get when it's the weekend and you have no friends to hang out with and your mom spent the morning listening to French tapes while she cleaned up by throwing out some more of your dad's old stuff you'd been hiding. The discerning might notice the piquant aftertaste of headache in addition to the previous - he's still wearing his dad's glasses.

(He knows it's stupid because it gives him headaches and it's going to fuck up his vision or something. He's going to keep doing it anyway. At least until Someone remembers that her son has perfect vision.)

Also he has a sandwich, because teenage boy. Ahhhh, Milliways is now complete.