the gym - sunday morning - 6/8

[new-to-liirness.livejournal.com]

Liir should have been practicing. It was why he'd woken up early, why he'd gotten dressed and warmed up. He'd spent most of yesterday practicing his various skills in one way or another to the point where he hadn't actually seen another soul for most of the day, but he still should have been practicing.

He wasn't.

Instead, he was sitting on the ground, grinning his head off, feeding and playing with some of the tiny albino monkeys that seemed to have scampered onto the island last night. There were a couple on his shoulders, one on his head, and another one swinging between the broom handle and his arm. He spoke to them, told them all about Chistery and the others even as he knew they were animals and (probably) would not understand, and wondered absently if they were there to stay for a time or if they leave come the next day.

[open for all your gym or Liir needs]

Second Floor Common Room - Early Sunday Afternoon

[goodgirlmeg.livejournal.com]

Meg was attempting to relax on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a gangster movie. She was having a little trouble thanks to Sparkles. One second the little robot was sitting on the couch next to Meg, the next he was flailing around with weetiny albino monkeys on his back. Meg thought the monkeys just wanted to play. Sparkles thought they were trying to kill him.

"Quit your whining. They're not going to hurt you," Meg said to the wee!Transformer. "Now, shush, I'm trying to enjoy young Al Pacino."

[Open, yes]

The Roof; Sunday Evening.

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

There were two reasons why Cal was currently sitting on the roof of the building, slowly drawing in the smoke and tobacco and cancer of a menthol cigarette. The first had to do with the tiny little albino monkeys, two of which were currently still occasionally hopping up on his knees, chittering something, and tilting their heads at him before scattered off for a little longer. Not the monkeys themselves; for the most part, they hadn't actually surprised Cal too much when he woke up and saw them. When he woke up and saw them, however, they had gotten a hold of the pages he had typed up yesterday and planned to burn today. What pages weren't being wrinkled or torn or nibbled on were being carefully thrown around, like ticker tape at a parade, or, as Cal dreaded, being carted off to God knows where. So his morning and his afternoon had been spent trying to reclaim what was his from their little primate clutches and send them to the originally intended fate, hoping that whatever was slipped out of the room, pillaged away by the monkeys, was nothing too incriminating.

The second reason was the residual, remaining effects of the contents of the pages in the first place. He'd hoped that writing about it and then sleeping on it would have allowed it to fade, but it didn't. Not even after chasing monkeys. And so he gave in, went outside, and had a smoke, and then decided that the view was too nice and he was too lazy, to bother with doing anything else.


[[ damn, I'm all poetical and whatnot tonight. Either way, open roof is open! ]]

3rd Floor Common Room: Sunday night [6-8-08]

[lovelylana.livejournal.com]

Lana had gotten a tad too much sun yesterday so she'd spent most of today in her room. However, now she was feeling the need to get out a little, so she'd made a batch of popcorn and was curled up on the couch hoping to find something interesting to watch. Several of the tiny little monkeys were curled up with her. They were surprisingly good company.


[Open as common rooms are!]

Salle, Sunday Evening

[ella-obeys.livejournal.com]

Ella was not nervous; in fact, she was rather excited that Aravis had handwavily agreed to show her some swordplay. She found some modern clothes that seemed like they'd make sense for such training, then got to the salle early and started to stretch out, eyeing the weapons as she worked.

She wondered if picturing Hattie would help improve her accuracy.

[OOC: Mostly for Aravis but open.]

Outside the dorms, Sunday morning

[cheminthehead.livejournal.com]

Gladys was on her way back from the stables. (The genet had decided the hayloft was a good place to spend its days, and as it was decimating the rodent population, Gladys had decided it was fair that it should sleep there. Fair pay for fair work, and the horse didn't seem to care.)

A tiny monkey suddenly appeared in front of her, chirruping as it cocked its head, staring up at her. Gladys stared back. "Hello."

Apparently, this was an invitation in monkey, because it scampered forward and straight up, perching on her head. "I Am Not A Tree," she insisted. It chittered demandingly, and a dozen or so more tiny monkeys appeared out of nowhere, all staring at her with gleaming eyes. "Do Not Even Think About It."

They didn't, simply swarmed, and soon Gladys' head and shoulders were covered in tiny albino monkeys, all chattering at each other and leaping around. "This Is Not How The Day Was Supposed To Go."

[ooc: whee, tiny monkeys! Open of course! ]