(no subject)

[garde723]

[OOM: Izana doesn't have a good time at the Gravity Festival.]

Izana limps in wearing not their usual white uniform, but a plain blue happi. They are also clutching a short stick that is currently stuck in their left thigh. They have had better times.

"Excuse me, is there a doctor or nurse available?"

Getting medical aid here or back home is the same right?

(no subject)

[half_french]

The door opens, letting in a fresh warm breeze. It carries with it the scent of the tropics - the salt tang of the ocean, the dryness of baking sand, the dark undertones of lush forest, and the char of roasting meat - the market is nearby.

It also allows through one young woman in street clothes, comfortable in the Saint Marie heat, but instantly shivering in the much colder bar.

"... What."

(no subject)

[never_shall_yield]

Javert sweeps into the bar this evening in a towering good mood. His back is straight, head held high, and for the first time in a long time, he wears an expression of fierce pride and self-satisfaction.

'Dinner, if you please,' he says, to Bar. 'Something with meat. And my snuff, if you would be so kind.'

It's around the time his snuff box appears that he blinks, and glances around the place. Then down at himself, before checking his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. It seems reassuring that he looks as he should...but still, his skin pales a touch, and by the time he sits in his usual far booth a little of his satisfaction seems to have melted away.

He's not sure what happened here while he was in Paris, but the fact he remembers some of it is highly, highly disturbing.


[OOC: Open all weekend.! <3]

(no subject)

[fry_sandhu]

Fry is wearing his Scout hoodie and is in the playground behind the Scout Hut with two large bottles of cola and some mentos.

He has attached the bottles to the swing, because clearly if he understands Science, the resulting propulsion should allow him to fly clear over the top of the swing and round the other side.

He sits on the swing and opens the two bottles as horizontal as he can manage, before trying to put both mints in at the same time.

Needless to say, the experiment does not go exactly as planned; to be precise, he doesn't quite get the two bottles in sync, the swing jerks just enough for him to fall off, and both bottles erupt a spray of foamy stuff over him.

"Aargh!"

(no subject)

[athelstanthescribe]

Behold, the returning prodigal patient, stepping through the door and looking around with visible relief and hope.

Athelstan still looks pretty awful, showing signs of bruising about his face - albeit a good way faded, and now he can see out of both eyes - and the thorn wounds on his forehead not fully healed.

That said, at least he's back in his right mind, on his feet and walking, with the aid of a tall wooden crutch under his arm. Now he just has to find the people he knows will have been desperately worried.

[ooc: open to all, indefinitely!]