The Roof, Late Saturday Night

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

It was cloudy, and it was cold, but Demyx was in a good mood. He let his sitar vanish into nothing, and ran-skipped over to the edge of the roof instead. "Man, this place is seriously the best," he said to nobody, looking down over the railing at the school grounds.

At this moment, he didn't know how anything could be better than it was. He wasn't even thinking about Fandom wacky.


(for a couple someones in particular, but the roof is open, as it is a rooooooof~)

The Preserve's edge: Saturday night

[vkandis-son.livejournal.com]

A cheerful fire was crackling away just at the edge of the Preserve, where it could probably be seen from the dorms. It was safer here, away from the dry underbrush, and Galahad could watch the stables. Which was important in case anyone else appeared there over night.

There was a half-naked bard curled up next to him, one who was fast asleep with a stomach full of roasted bunny, his head pillowed on Galahad's mail shirt. It didn't look at all comfortable, but he'd accepted that his new-found companion was far from normal.

Galahad leaned back against a tree, his sword naked beside him, and stared at the stars that weren't his stars. He was alert to any danger, but for the most part was relaxing in the warmth from the fire.

Gawain, the horse he'd stolen borrowed was hobbled and grazing close by (Trenor was getting very annoyed with this whole thing, and he wanted his stall now), and there was even some left over bunny, should anyone happen to wander by in need of dinner.

[ooc: completely open, and Chaucer and his near nudity modded with permission.]

3rd Floor Common Room: Sunday afternoon [1-20-08]

[lovelylana.livejournal.com]

Donny still hadn't shown up and Fiona was getting more than a little pissed off. She couldn't spend one more minute in that stupid little nun's room so she'd made her way to what seemed to be a common room. At least it had a big TV and comfortable couches. She turned on the marathon of ANTM and alternated between making snarky comments at all the wanna-be models and practicing her own poses. She could so do better than all of them!


[Open! Come snark or practice your own poses!]

Laundry Room, Sunday Evening

[missed-the-gate.livejournal.com]

John had had a busy day. He'd blown off football to go to the garage, the salle, and to call Jaina's comm a half dozen times. He'd seen and heard no sign of her.

Sitting in his room was no longer an option as he had gotten quite a headache from banging his head on the wall. Or was it a result of the tequila?

There he was, sitting next to a pile of clean clothes, staring at the spinning contents of the dryer - the sheets that he'd suddenly found so offensive as to prompt him to wash them three times.

[I have no idea, really. Open for others who need clean clothes?]

4th floor common room, Sunday early evening

[minnesota-teen.livejournal.com]

Amber was feeling restless so she put on her tap shoes and headed down the hallway to the common room, ready to make some use out of it. Seeing no one around, she put on some music and began warming up by doing a few leg and arm stretches.

After that? She started tap dancing to her hearts content, loving every single minute of it.

[the CR is open like an open thing that's public. yep.] 

The Preserve's edge: Sunday morning

[vkandis-son.livejournal.com]

The temperature had dropped drastically overnight, to the point Galahad was just waiting for it to snow. He'd stoked the fire up as high as he could, and coaxed Gawain to lie down (not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination - Trenor was a very irritated horse) next to it.

Between the warmth of the horse, the warmth of the fire, and the warmth of the half-naked bard at his back, it was almost comfortable.

If he ignored the pricking of his conscience. True, the woman had been infuriating: quite mad, insulting, and she'd tried to steal his horse, but... He blew out a long breath, watching it curl in the air and sighed. Gawain, the real Gawain, would thrash him when he heard.

[ooc: so very open, yes.]

Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Evening

[ashockingbitch]

Jenny's homework was to cook a meal, right? That people could eat? Well, Sunday night seemed as good a time as any to make breakfast for her fellow students. After all, she'd only woken up a few hours ago, so it totally counted as breakfast time. She'd decided to take this to the fifth floor in case she set something on fire. More plausible deniability that way.

There was cereal from a box, bacon that was not quite burnt around the edges, some slightly questionable scrambled eggs, tea, and toast. There was nothing wrong with the tea or the toast.

((Open like a common room!))