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| Castiel stood before the congregation today looking very serious. "I would like to speak to you," he said, "about love.
"I must admit, I have little experience with and thus know very little about romantic love, that which seems to preoccupy most of your minds. I'm far more knowledgeable about paternal love and generalized love." He went on to explain that, as an agent of the Lord, the paternal love his father gave him lead him to the generalized love he had for all of God's creatures -- but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to copulate with them, did you see what he meant? And while he might certainly be flattered by another's attentions upon him, he didn't seek it out, and while he's certain you're all wonderful people, even if you are demons -- or you know, cats or hunters or infected with blood that gives you horrifying powers that could destroy the world or, say, atheists -- you may perhaps find better luck elsewhere. It's not that he doesn't enjoy your company. Not in the least. It's not you at all. It's him. And he's sure you'll find the right person someday, if not in this world, then perhaps the next. They'll likely understand you better, there.
[ooc: I swear, I just open the post-entry box and this stuff just . . . spills out. IDEK. OCD is up!] | |
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| Priestly entered the diner that morning to find the kitchen staff at the counter with a set of bongos, all wearing black turtlenecks and snapping their fingers at him.
Priestly rolled his eyes and walked right past them into the kitchen -- only to discover that at least part of why they had enough time to make up bad spoken word poetry was because all the knives had been replaced with candy canes. So he came back out with a head of lettuce and declared it "Salad day!"
The busboy snapped. The cook glared him down.
Today's specials Any salad, half off!
Luke's was open. | |
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| Lindsay was at her desk this morning writing out checks to local homeless shelters.
It was the spirit of the holidays that was motivating her. Not anything that happened over the weekend.
Really.
Any distraction would be welcome at this point. | |
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| So far, so good. Nothing had exploded, no one was a beaver, and there was not a single ice rink to be seen. Maple syrup was absent, was any other unfortunate substance. No one tasted like anything specific--
This might in fact be a production without something going wrong, though Geoffrey wouldn't even quite think the thought for fear of jinxing it.
...little did he know, of course.
[ocd up!] | |
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| Loki still had cookies leftover from yesterday. Look, he didn't see the need to cook any fucking thing so when the island provided him free food, he held onto it. So, with his feet up on his deck and some Christmas music (every single fucking station seemed to be playing it constantly) blaring on the radio, Loki was munching on some cookies.
Maybe tomorrow he'd get to the mainland and finally do some fucking Christmas shopping. Or maybe he'd just give everyone a macaroni sculpture. One or the other. | |
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| After Tara got to the shop, she took her usual quick walk around to make sure everything was where it should be and see if anything needed to be restocked.
Everything was in its place, but the ceremonial blades and daggers were all candy canes.
This barely registered on the scale of weird for this week, so Tara left the candy cane blades where they were and turned on a CD of new age Christmas music. She was grateful her employee discount would help with her holiday shopping.
The Magic Box was open.
[OOC: OCD stabbed itself with a candy cane. Oops.] | |
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| Her head was still full of thoughts of ladies, tigers, idiot kings, sexist archaic crap, and new boots by the time Katchoo arrived at work, and it was really the last of those thoughts that had her whistling occasional broken snippets of classic showtunes around the shelves as she restocked. Mmm, clunky heels. She was a little sorry about the lack of cookies today, just because she could've crushed 'em under said clunky heels. She'd have to settle for breaking out a new set of watercolors instead. Oddly, Katchoo was fine with that. [OOC: Farmville did that thing again where it ate some of my gifts. It took the OCD with them.] | |
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| She was pretty sure the island had gone insane but Maron, having mostly adapted, was of the opinion that if the insanity continued on the way it had been that she was more than willing to deal with it.
Better ridiculous than anything, well, else.
Humming as she idly flipped through a novel behind the counter, Maron settled in for the day.
Today's Squishy Flavors: Red, White, Candy Cane
Turtle & Canary is Open! | |
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| Like last time, the front end of the theatre had practically been attacked by a mountain of sweets. And tea. (And coffee, but Mitchell occasionally enjoyed focusing on the tea, as long as it wasn't chamomile, drink of the devils and heathen and whatnot) The film of the evening? Farewell Lenin ( 'tube link) Mitchell thought it was a good choice, honestly. Show a bit of the aftermath. Which was why he greeted anyone arriving with a quick bit of babble about the world after the Second World War, Stalin, and the Germans and how they coped. "Bit of a change for the previous generation," he said, "Tearing down the wall. But don't let me spoil you. Hurry on in." | |
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| Such a strange mood Alice found herself in today. Oddly contemplative. And, it would seem, surrounded by cookies. Wasn't that unexpected?
She was going to try to make a playlist for cookies, but was having difficulties. Candy and sugar were far more popular themes, it would seem.
(OCD-free because late!) | |
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| Marshall was slightly disappointed that he missed out on all the fun over the weekend. Having an evil twin last year had been kind of fun. Except for, you know, the coma thing. Oh, well. Maybe he'd make his own drama.
Huh. The bar wasn't exactly the place for drama, was it? Couldn't even slap Tino in here. Laaaaame. | |
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| Mat decided that the morning rides on Pips were a bloody insane practice to continue (since he tended to rise at the crack of...noon), and so today he'd gone riding at a much more reasonable time.
He was now taking a break as Pip explored the low-growing shrubbery (it was important to know how these things tasted, after all), leaning against a tree and whittling.
[OOC: Expecting one, but if you are randomly walking through the forest, knock yourself out...] | |
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| Jack opened the Imperial Brim and started the shift off with making sure everything was presentable, and checking over any new inventory.
Why, yes, he was trying to keep himself busy instead of thinking about the weekend, as you do.
[Open! OCD-less] | |
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| It had been a wonderful evening in Florence. Aphrodite and Bliss had enjoyed dinner, wine, and laughter. Right up until he'd mentioned that his on-again off-again romance was currently in an off-again phase.
'Dite cackled evilly and rubbed her hands in glee. "Is that why you were flirting yesterday? Will you be on the prowl on Sunday?"
"I was flirting because she was cute, and I want your absolute promise, on the River Styx, that you will not play matchmaker at the party, especially not between Karla and I." He eyed his grandmother sternly. "Swear it -- or I won't show up."
She'd tried to get around it, even pointing out a supposed frown line, but in the end she'd sworn. After all, Bliss was handsome, charming, totally a babe, and she was certain someone on Fandom would catch his eye, even without her making it happen.
Speaking of the party, most of her preparations were finished, or had to wait until the weekend. The biggest thing she needed to do was decide on the proper dress. Calmly going through a recent fashion magazine, she looked up as an NPC customer opened the door. Her eyebrows rose at the sudden cascade of cookies from nowhere.
When the customer went to close the door she stopped him, propping it open and turning up the heat. After all, how many cookies did Fandom think her customers could eat?
(ooc: Post, store and door open. Anyone currently affected by Puck's stolen love potion, please email me or grab me on AIM so 'Dite can remove the spell after she's made aware of the situation. Thanks!) | |
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| Over the weekend, the Cat had developed a habit of pawing at the various doors and windows of the church and meowing pitifully to let Castiel know that it was hungry or cold and wanted to be inside.
Castiel had gone to check on it the first few times, but having determined it was in no immediate harm -- and having spent a good chunk of his time letting the Cat in and out of the church seemingly at the slightest whim -- he'd decided to ignore it.
The Cat had now resorted to hurling itself bodily against the door and making noises like it was dying a horrible, tragic, and most importantly unfated death.
"No," said Castiel, "you're not."
"Meeeerreeeeowwoowowwwwwwww!" said the Cat.
Castiel looked down at it and sighed. He stepped back to let it into the vestibule. The Cat immediately set about attacking his coat. He sighed.
"I suppose you want another tuna."
[ooc: the church is, as always, quite open.] | |
|
| ...Liir almost didn't think there was a point to coming in today. After all, anyone who was hungry could get something to eat by opening a door. That said, he had to come up with something.
Today's Special MILK Truly inspired, really. [ocdless but do come by!] | |
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| Cookies, cookies, everywhere, and all Priestly wanted was a muffin. Possibly because there were cookies everywhere. He just had to be different, yo. So here was Priestly, sitting by the front window of the bakery with a giant chocolate chip muffin and an even larger coffee, reading a book on Beat Poetry. Not because he was all that into the Beat movement, or poetry, but because it looked good and he was pretty sure that Dean wouldn't be caught dead reading anything like it. [ooc: . . . now I want to go to some independent cafe and be seen reading Ginsberg. Open!] | |
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| Beka's had two days to consider a strategy that'd not get her sacked for bedding the boss. Two days and her plans to not leave aught to remark upon were buried under an avalanche of cookies the moment she opened the door to the gym. Retrieving the broom from the janitor closet had caused another rain of cookies and an hour later, one of the instructors ran screaming from the gym, ranting about cookies and addictions.
Somehow she'd be the one who'd ended up cleaning the avalanches and she'd found some empty boxes to store the cookies in. Food that rained from the sky was still food and Beka'd grown up in the Lower City. She'd not waste any kind of food.
[Open, once it rains OCD.] | |
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| Layla deftly stepped out of the way of the sugar cookies that fell when she opened the door to the store and started getting the place ready for business.
By the time she had the store opened and ready she was already feeling ill from all the cookies she had eaten. Granted she knew it was going to happen but she really had no willpower (or free will for that matter) when it came to these things. | |
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| It was chilly and damp out, but after opening her closet door only to be attacked by an avalanche of cookies (for which she might have blamed her roommate and her strange closet activities, except that opening the door to the hallway had the same sugary effect), Raven decided that the only proper response to this was to get tea to go with the cookies. Pomegranate Vanilla would go nicely with the cookies, and since since she was out of her own supply, she had gone down to the Perk for a cup. Now she walked back toward the school, sipping the hot tea and nibbling at a cookie, cloak drawn tightly around her shoulders. She was definitely going to have to get warmer clothing for the winter. Like, say, gloves.
[Expecting a *ahem* suitor, but the park is open to all, of course.] | |
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| It may have been cold outside, but there was a thaw happening inside as the kitchen staff finally realized a) that lion kid was coming back every week and 2) he wouldn't eat them, as long as they kept him well fed. "You guys are the best!" said Lion-o, finding yet another plate of cookies waiting for him. The kitchen staff wasn't the one making cookies, but they were more than happy to take the credit. Today's Special Cookies, Cookies, Cookies!Luke's is open, and there is plenty of hot cocoa and apple cider to go with your cookies. | |
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| Mina was not pregnant, thank you very much. Nor was she a ninja assassin for any organized crime elements.
She was doing her British duty and ignoring that anything odd had happened over the weekend and would continue to pretend along those lines unless someone made her very cross.
For now, she was behind the desk in the MCA lobby, finishing up some paperwork. If anyone had anything they needed, she would be glad to help them.
[ooc: Open! Off to work I go, but I'll be around afterwards to play!] | |
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| Cookies were all well and good, but they went much better with some sort of warm drink - say perhaps hot chocolate.
Millie made her way to The Perk for just that purpose, snagging a large one - with whipped cream, of course - and settled in at a table by the window to enjoy it with the cookies while she watched the passersby.
[ooc: Open, of course!] | |
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| Katchoo hadn't ventured out of her room in close to a week now, although it felt like a lot longer than that. She was sugary and cinnamony already by the time she was fiddling with her key in the lock of the store's front door --
And a lot more so once the latest tidal wave of door-related cookies had abated, leaving her knee-deep in colored sugar, icing, and ginger snaps, with the faint tinkling sound of the entry bell wafting away over it all.
Katchoo sighed, slogged her way into the shop, and slouched behind the counter with her headphones in and some new music she'd acquired blaring. Yes. It was something not Griffin Silver. Be shocked.
[OOC: Open, but SP may be of the epic variety today, just as a warning.] | |
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| Ino had found out about the cookies while getting dressed (her closet had been full of sugary goodness) and then when she'd tried to open her door to the dorm hallway...
Well, more sugary goodness. She was a Fandomite with two and a half years experience here, if she'd thought she could get away with it, Ino would've gone in a window to get into work.
Only, well, Cable-san and his security measures. Ah well.
She gathered up the cookies and snagged a few as she went to fuss with her plants. As it was, she'd be living off of the cookies today, it looked like. Mmm.
Wellspring Arms is Open. | |
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| As Naomi arrived on time for her shift, she couldn't help but wonder if Jack would turn up today or not, given what had happened on the weekend and she hadn't exactly being going out of her way to talk to him since then. She busied herself in making sure that everything was set up and organized before she opened and was trying not to focus on last weekend.
Stark Industries is open. | |
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| There had been cookies in the cabinets where the pots were kept. And cookies under the counter. And cookies on little sticks arranged with the flowers, how awesome was that? Dinah was nibbling on them in between making herself a really large crown of roses and poinsettas. Because you had to be ready! Just in case! You never knew! Someone might come in and sweep you away to Vegas for a surprise winter wedding! Someone really tall! Someone she had an order of roses ready for tomorrow's performance of the play! Covent Garden FlowersVida Boheme, prop. Fresh flowers from nosegays to bouquets! Delivery available upon request.Covent Garden Flowers is open. And really, really delusional Happy. [tiny OCD is up.] | |
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| Tonight when Robin came in, she was humming. Stupid, stupid song had been stuck in her head all day -- at least in part because she had heard it everywhere.
So, she was absentmindedly making up dirty lyrics to fill in, since she could only remember the tune, anyway.
[I R uncreative tonight; paper-writing make me stoopid. Mod Tino for anything resembling speed!] | |
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| After the performance, Robin headed for the perk for some cocoa. It was cold out, so it was a good way to warm up for the walk back to the dorms.
Robin was feeling really good. He'd also saved his muffin at the last minute till now.
[In case someone wants to show up for a love struck frog serenading them.] | |
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