The Salle; Tuesday Morning after 1st Period.

[bound2blade.livejournal.com]

It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that Setsuna was working in the salle this morning. The sign, though, on the door, however, might have caught a few off guard.

Enter with Caution.
Potentially Dangerous Techniques being Practised.

By potentially dangerous, Setsuna was referring to the wind attacks she was executing, often sending the pile of rocks she used to practise on flying and keeping up with her speed, her quickness, to take care of them before they hit anything, either through more Shinmei Ryuu or the sheer force of her chi paired with Yuunagi's steel. This was no light forms, that was for sure.


[[ open of course. Watch for falling rocks! ]]

Musical Rehearsal, The Gym; Tuesday, 7pm (ish)

[by137.livejournal.com]

While A.J. seemed to be busy crawling on the floor of the gym with a tape measure, Troy was bouncing excitedly as he waited for the cast and crew to come in. First rehearsal! A.J. was starting to wish he'd brought a tarp, because Troy looked about ready to explode with excitement and, well, quite frankly, A.J. didn't want to clean up the mess.

"Okay, guys," Troy said, "we're going to break up into two group; actor-types, you're going with me and we'll warm up and go over scripts. Tech-types, you're stuck with A.J."

A.J. let the tape measure snap shut dramatically and let out an evil chuckle. "Mwa ha ha. By the way, Aly is our awesome adviser, and without her, we wouldn't be able to do this, so I suggest we bombard her with gratitude, pie, and muffins. Great, big muffins." Not dirty. Mostly.

"Okay, lots of work to do! Let's get going!"


[[ Up early, due to me having work later and Troy being abducted until the evening. Troy, by the way, was tooootally modded with permission. Please to be waiting for the OCD! It be up! ]]

Second Floor Common Room: Tuesday morning

[anextimeagent.livejournal.com]

There was a rather cranky Jack in the common room this morning, and he was cursing a certain temporary Principal under his breath. He was bruised from falling on his...posterior when the floating spell had worn off. The shirt she'd cursed him with he'd thrown in the garbage and contemplated setting fire too, and he was still fighting the urge to scratch his chest (though he was prepared to admit that might just be in his head).

What wasn't in his head, however, were the scratches and redness from yesterday's magic induced attack of the itchies, scattered all over that part of the body traditionally covered by a shirt.

And no, he wasn't wearing one. He was giving serious thought, as he sat on the kitchen counter, drinking his coffee, to never wearing one ever again. Just to make a point.

[ooc: it is a common room of openness!]