Outside the dorms [Sunday morning]

[emo-padawan.livejournal.com]

Anakin waited for the the students from his flight workshop and Veronica's photography workshop to arrive so that they could head to Washington, DC.

He got to drive the bus and everything.

He was a little excited.

[OOC: Mostly to establish them all leaving at the correct day and to linkdrop for your convenience, but if you want to play out Anakin driving like a fiend, come on in...]

Fifth Floor Common room, Sunday morning

[cyclopeanmerc.livejournal.com]

Put on the heat, grab the eggs, crack 'em one handed.

Sunday morning crepes. Just like Granpere used to make. And presumably still did make.


The old undying bastard.

_{[[Open to everyone who enjoys a tasty crepe. Up early (for you) so I don't forget about it later.]]}

The Roof//Later Sunday Morning

[union-jane.livejournal.com]

After a breakfast of tea and yummy crepes, Seras made her way up to the roof to wait for Walter.

It was a warm day, but it was cooler up high and there was a breeze blowing.

Just walk to the edge and jump off...

Seras peered over at the ground below.

Sure. It sounded simple, in theory.

[The roof be open]

Sunday Night, 3rd Floor Common Room

[tyler-gone.livejournal.com]

Tyler sprawled on the couch with a bag of Doritos and the remote. He was watching a rerun of The Z-Cases and shouting at Wolf and Lana to get more powerful flashlights if they were going to run around in dark places like idiots.

[OOC: Open, of course.]

Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Night.

[bound2blade.livejournal.com]

Sakurazaki's face was pretty red tonight, but it had nothing to do with the common cause of excessive blushes. Nope. She hadn't even been out in the sun for very long, had slathered herself in suntan lotion, but she was still incredibly burned. A lot of it had gone away, thankfully, but it still hurt on her shoulders (well, her right shoulder anyway; her ponytail acted as a pretty decent shade for the left), and her nose was peeling pretty badly, and the tender spot between her shoulder blades was nearly flaring. This was almost worse than post-flight aches, and it was keeping her up, making it uncomfortable to snuggle into a pillow. She drifts toward the freezer of the kitchenette, taking out some ice cubes and putting them into several plastic baggies, wrapping a few small towels around them. That finished, she walks over to the couch, laying down on it with one pack wedged between her back and the arm of the couch, one pack rested on her shoulder, and another carefully balanced on her forehead as she tilts it back slightly. She cracks open her book, a few grains of sand falling out of the pages, and holds it up to read.

[[s'open]]