It's just down to a matter of days, but Sara, eschewing her doctor's advice, decided that she needed out of the Loft before either she or the other occupants felt inclined to do grave bodily harm at some point ( Read more... )

T-minus twenty something days or so.

Not that Sara is counting.

Right now, she's reading a book.

April is sitting at a table with a calendar and a pen, frowning a bit. She chews on her bottom lip for a moment, then starts counting for what is probably the fifth or sixth time, murmuring the numbers under her breath.

Feel free to interrupt her.

The door opens, and an empath waddles in. Yes, that is waddles. She is wearing one of Luke's old farmboy tops over a long skirt. Flopping down on a couch, she mutters rather darkly in about five languages. Some of that might just be grouching at a certain Jedi. Pulling a datapad out of a pocket, she starts poking at it. Just because yesterday was ( Read more... )

There is an Ivy in the Inn. She has a copy of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and a bowl of Cheetos Puffs.

She's laughing every few moments. The book is just that funny.

Feel free to interrupt.

Jason's sitting at a table downstairs, hunched over a piece of paper, a pen in his hand ( Read more... )

Overalls? Not too good for hiding growing baby bumps. Ivy has learned this already. That doesn't change the fact that it's about the most comfortable thing she can wear right now ( Read more... )

Sara is downstairs this evening, reclined on a couch. She's looking through a list ( Read more... )

They young woman who walks through the door was expecting to see Nadia's bedroom, so the lobby of a hotel is rather throwing her off. She glances over her shoulder uncertainly, frowning at the blank wall behind her. She then returns her suspicious and nervous gaze to the rest of the room ( Read more... )

Pregnant CSI is in the Inn, reclining on a couch. She's holding a magazine in one hand.

The other is on her belly.

It's a thing.