scoffs_at_tradition

It had been weirdly awkward between Steve and Tony since the emotional baggage day. Tony had been working in the lab, Steve had been ~~eating all the Moobyburgers~~ working out, restocking the cheese fridge, and checking in with his colleagues at home.

But today, Father's Day, Steve was giving Tony another hour before going into the lab and dragging Tony out, feeding him, and making him talk. He missed them being them.

[OOC: For that husband.]

somethingwithturquoise

Even though there walls a whole Dimensionality factor involved, Summer would have actually have felt a little bad about spending Father's Day Weekend around Seattle and then not at least stop in to see her dad and grandpa (and, he'll, Morty, too, joining the line of terrible fathes in this household). She definitely wasn't dropping in until later in the afternoon, when the ringing from the concert started to finally drain from her skull, and she was spending most of her time on the couch and on her phone.

But, like, it was important, what she was typing out, in a mass text to whoever the multiverse wanted to deliver it to:

hey everyone!
Just do you know, I'm throwing a big
BIRTHDAY BEACH PARTY SUMMER SUMMER BASH!
On Friday (the 20th)

Drinks, food, music, maybe games, idk, but whatever, just show up and have fun!
Because it's almost summer and it's also mg birthday!

There. Now to text a few other people spd finally about stuff and continuing ignoring her family in real time so that she could at least say she was present, what more did they want?

[[ open for calls, texts, rando visits, whatever!]]

grenadesandohana

Steve had been gritting his teeth and pushing through pain all week, nourished only by bland, terrible food, decaf coffee, and stubbornness.

(He was also fueled by his transplant anti-rejection pills, which he'd take for the rest of his life. He hated that.)

He wasn't running, but he was definitely walking up and down the steps of the island until his calves burned, and then did it for another half hour.

(His body had betrayed him after decades of work making it a finely oiled machine. He was punishing it just a little.)

And now he was back in the apartment, looking for something interesting to eat. There was nothing interesting to eat, but he was looking anyway.

[OOC: For Danno.]

suitably_heroic

"Wow," said Jack, as he stared up at the sign 'Some Hot Hipster Brewpub With a Really Dumb Name' that hung off the side of the building. "Irony and hipster, all at once? I feel like I just got sandblasted in the face by the Pacific Northwest."

Hi, Summer.

[[ for her ]]

grenadesandohana

Steve had gone to bed a 20-something super-soldier who'd run around the island being healthy and athletic and woken up in his nearly 40-year-old body that was still recovering from a liver transplant and being shot multiple times. It took three tries to get out of bed and to walk slowly (he wouldn't call it hobbling, but someone else might) towards the kitchen, only to discover that his other self had eaten alllll of the food.

He was blaming the other Danny for drinking all the expensive coffee.

"Dammit," he muttered, staring into the empty fridge.

solo_sword

Jaina was up early in the living room, sitting on the sofa and working out what class was going to be for today since it had been a little hard to do that this weekend. Not that she didn't know how these things worked.

As expected, Jag came in the front door, looking pretty damn broody. He stood there for a second, like he hadn't counted on Jaina being right there.

"We're not talking about it," he said.

"Never talking about it," she agreed, watching as he nodded and walked into the next room.

She'd give him a whole five minutes of not talking about it.

imafuturist

Harry had not found anything out about how or why he ended up here. And doors just randomly locked on him, proving that someone (JARVIS) was pulling the strings like some kind of insidious puppet master.

Which meant he ended up on the roof through a series of doors that weren't locked.

Upside? There was a whole fridge full of cheese and wine and also a hot tub. So guess who was getting white girl wasted in the hot tub. This guy.

[for those tower mates!]

suitably_heroic

Yes, Jack believed all the Force users in the multiverse could use a few lessons in doing normal people things more often. He had frequently coerced, wheedled, and poked several of them into it over the years. But this? Making Lana Beniko, ex-Sith spymaster, man the merch booth?

Had to be his greatest achievement.

It maybe gave a little extra oomph to his performance that evening.

It was also when, after they were done, one of the first things he did was haul his sweaty ass back to the merch stand. "Sooo," he said, grinning. "How are we doing?"

[[ for a lana ]]

solo_sword

It was a concern when Jaina didn't find Jag in the house when she got up. If not for the circumstances at home, she wouldn't have thought much of it, but the boys were fine and nothing felt wrong so she tamped down the paranoia and got ready for the day.

And on the way out with the kids, she spotted the car. It was impossible not to. The streets here were not built for cars, and it almost blocked the door. Which was a concern until she came around to the side of the car and saw that it was a Jaguar.

She sighed so, so hard. "This is the saddest way to get me to handle all your calls."

[Yep. Open if you're in the area!]

grenadesandohana

Steve and Danny had arrived back from Hawai'i late last night after being released from the hospital earlier in the week. (Well, they thought it had been earlier in the week. Time had gotten weird traveling back from 2010.) They'd taken their bruised selves to separate bedrooms (it had taken only one night to realize that two people with still-healing liver transplant scars and restless sleep habits did not mix) and had gone to sleep.

And now Steve was waking up feeling amazing. Dare he say that he even felt swell?

Because he felt a lot like a super-soldier in the 1940s. He leaped athletically from bed and headed out into the kitchen, preparing to eat all the food he found there while trying to figure out why he wasn't still in London in 1945.

[OOC: Yes, I've swapped to a different Steve again.]

heroic_jawline

Jake Jensen was not, let's say, naturally a morning person. Yes, when he was being all he could be he was up with the rest of the Army, jogging and sweating like an idiot, but that wasn't his first inclination. Or second. His inclination was to be up until all hours absolutely destroying some kids in a first-person shooter game and then really rubbing it in that he was old enough to both buy beer and grow a sweet goatee. Sometimes he would take both of those abilities to a bar in search of companionship, which, though he didn't remember doing so last night, appeared to be the case this morning.

This bed was sweet. And enormous. He stretched out his arms and legs, reveling in the feel of sheets that had definitely been washed more recently than his had, and rubbed up against a hairy leg that definitely wasn't his.

Okay. Okay. This was fine. He was an open-minded guy! He--very smoothly, okay--slid his foot up that leg again trying to decide if the leg hair was free-spirited-lady-with-no-time-for-societal-expectations hair or, you know, dude hair.

Both of which would be fine! A-Okay! Nothing to freak out about! He was definitely not freaking out and he'd shoot anyone who said he was.

[OOC: Steve is Jake Jensen from The Losers for the weekend! Open for that dude he's definitely not married to.]

thatwaslucky

It had been a while since they'd had a sangria night, and they were pretty much due. This time it was at Rey's apartment, which had her trying to clean up some since she didn't have people over much, and she was doing that despite the fact that she didn't have much of anything. Several years in and the place was still pretty bare bones aside from the mermaid sofa and assorted mismatched furniture.

She'd ordered pizza, and it had occurred to her that she hadn't asked if Summer was bringing the sangria or not, so she'd gotten a couple bottles of something and hoped it was okay, just in case. And if not, someone was going to have to have a party she could donate it to.

[For girls night!]

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Shuri

Reading

Stark Tower but Smallish [Sunday afternoon]

The Smith Household; Earth, Dimension FH-001, Sunday Afternoon [06/15].

MCA #0, Friday evening

Some Hot Hipster Brewpub Spot With a Really Dumb Name, Seattle, Friday Evening

MCA #0, Monday morning

IX Serendipity Place- early Monday morning

The Roof of The Weirdly Tall For The Island Aesthetic Stark Tower - Sunday Evening

A Music Venue in Brooklyn, Sunday Evening

IX Serendipity Place- Saturday morning

MCA #0, Saturday morning

Stark Tower but Small [Saturday morning]

MCA #1- Friday evening

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April 2020

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