Second Floor Common Room [Sunday Afternoon]

[death-and-pies.livejournal.com]

Father Ned had decided to go out to be with the people today. Yesterday had been fulfilling and exhausting between all the guidance he'd tried to provide, the last rites he'd given those poor coma patients, and the marriage of those two young children that would be together forever. He just knew it.

He tried not to think about the girl with the enormous chest who'd confessed...something to him. He wasn't sure and she'd run and he was...confused.

It was almost enough to make him forget about his own sordid past. Almost. He'd had nightmares about that again last night. So vivid, so real.

No, he was reformed now. He wouldn't go back to that time, to that place. Now, he was a giver of counsel, a provider of aide.

"Friends," he said to no one in particular, "I welcome you on this glorious day. I'm so glad you all could come out here and reach out to those less fortunate. And, just because you're less fortunate, does not make you any less of a person. You are all beautiful human beings, ready to spread your wings and fly. You must, though, resist temptation. You must resist the evils of the dark paths. Do not go gently into that good night. Follow the light and you will shine like the sun. Follow your heart and it will lead you to the meadow of utopia. Follow the dark path and purgatory will welcome you with open arms. You will be unable to leave. You will be forgotten. Because, dear friends, if you go down this path, you will only certainly end up in a clinic, in a coma, with half your face done and friends, I do not want to watch you all die of comas. It is a sad thing. Comas are SAD. Say no to comas. Thank you."

With that Father Ned took a seat with his book and hoped his message had gotten through.

[Ned's still around after his "sermon" so feel free to talk to him!]

The Roof, Sunday Afternoon

[death-of-hope.livejournal.com]

It was a beautiful day outside, so Anemone had taken her paints to the roof of the dormitory, hoping for some peace and quiet as she worked on the painting she had begun yesterday.

She breathed in the lovely air and smiled as she set brush to paper, praying she would be left alone to finish her work. Her classmates were too boisterous to understand True Art.

[OOC: Looking for one, but open roof is open.]

The Roof; Sunday Early Evening[ 10/12 ]

[senor-chado.livejournal.com]

Cuando él no había estado gritando, República eo Tchad había estado handwavily en la gimnasia, donde él había estado entrenando. Entrenando a su corazón hacia fuera. Entrenando a las grandes inflamaciones de la música inspirada, a cada sacador que realiza una escena de montajes de todo su trabajo duro y esmero, a la sangre, al sudor y a los rasgones. Sobre todo rasgones. Y culminaron todo a este momento. Él se colocaba en la azotea, batió su pecho pelado con sus puños enormes, y levantado para arriba un gran grito. " ¡Venga conseguirme, viento, usted híbrido! ¡Déme su mejor tiro! ¡Usted tomó mi amor lejos de mí, viento, y ahora usted debe pagar, con una furia quemando dentro de mí más furiosamente que la furia de mil soles! "

Y República eo Tchad, él luchó ese viento, él lo luchó con todo el el suyo pudo, determinado que saldría solamente uno de él vivo. " ¡Esto está para usted! ¡TEEEEEDDDDDDYYYY! "

[[ la azotea abierta está abierta ]]


Translation: When it did not have been shouting, Republic eo Tchad had been handwavily in gymnastics, where it had been training. Training to its heart towards outside. Training to the great inflammations of inspired music, to each sacador that realises a scene of assemblies of all their hard work and care, to the blood, the sweat and rasgones. Mainly rasgones. And they culminated everything at this moment. It was placed in the roof, he beat its chest bare with its enormous fists, and raised for above a great shout. " It comes to obtain to me, wind, hybrid you! Déme its better shot! You took my love far from me, wind, and now you must pay, with a fury burning within me more furiously than the fury of thousand suns! "

And Republic eo Tchad, he fought that wind, he fought his yet could, determined that it would leave only one alive him. " This is for you! TEEEEEDDDDDDYYYY! "

[[ the open roof is open ]]

Laundry Room, Sunday night

[laidanegg.livejournal.com]

Dick woke up. The realization that his dream wasn't a dream? The lighthouse? The horrible, horrible death by leaping out of said lighthouse? "It was all just a dream!" Dick said, happily.

He sat up, taking a moment to realize that he was in the laundry room in the dorms. This may have been the weirdest place he remembered waking up this weekend, but all of those other places were in dreams, so they didn't count anyway.

Then he heard something weird.

La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento — e di pensiero.

Dick looked around. He could swear that the singing was coming from the laundry detergent. He got up and started walking toward the door when he heard a continuation of the song coming from the liquid soap by the sink.

Sempre un amabile,
Leggiadro viso,
In pianto o in riso, — è menzognero.

Dick wasted no time walking out the door. He needed to get to his room. Although he'd apparently spent the entire weekend sleeping, he felt extremely worn out and wanted to sleep in his own bed tonight.

[OOC: La donna è mobile. Ba dum ching.]

The Roof: Sometime between Early Evening and Late Evening...

[multi-madrox.livejournal.com]

Evil!Jamie aka "Skippy" stood at the edge of the roof, his overcoat billowing dramatically in the breeze.

In one short weekend he had destroyed his brother's life, love life and finances in one fell swoop.

Plus he managed to get some action from Jamie's former lover.

As far he was concerned it was the best weekend ever.

All of which he summarized in a long monologue to a potted plant that was next to him.

[For one... sort of.]