Third Floor Common Room - Monday Morning

[joan-notjane.livejournal.com]

Joan's big plans to stay awake all night didn't quite work out since weetiny people are not known for their ability to stay awake all night.

At some point after falling asleep, all the weetiny people sleeping in the common room became normal-sized people sleeping in the common room.

Joan found herself curled up against... someone. She was kind of afraid to open her eyes and see who it was.





[ooc: mostly for those who slept here, but also open like a common room. The Peter-cuddling was modded with Peter's permission. Joan humbly requests that Sam not kill her.]

5th Floor Common Room, Monday Morning

[thatsamilkshake]

A weekend of weirdness had happened in Fandom, and the only potentially embarrassing thing Francine had done? Had no witnesses. This was an event of epic proportions, and called for a celebration of epic proportions.

Or, you know, French Toast.

Because she really could make breffast.

Lots and lots of breffast, as it turned out.

[Open! Syrupy!]

Second floor boys' bathroom, Monday early morning

[lovemykilt]

When Priestly had sat up in bed this morning, his pillow had come with him.

His extremely multicolored pillow. Stuck to his still moderately glue-, marker-, coke-, and gel-filled hair. And he had magic marker smears all over his arms, neck, chest, and face. And bits of dried chocolate ice cream stuck in his goatee.

So he was spending rather a long time in the shower, this morning. Possibly using up all the hot water in the entire dorm. And more than his fair share of shampoo.

Stupid Fandom. Stupid Merlin pouring coke on him. Stupid Arthur for, well, everything.

Stupid four year old him and his lack of hygiene.

[ooc: most for establishing purposes, but it is, of course, a public bathroom. Well, for the boys, anyway.]

The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

On Friday, Arthur had reached a decision. After the weekend, he wasn't in the best mood to follow through on it, but there were few reasons to let his mood interfere with what was, essentially, a duty of some kind.

The duty of survival. As Crown Prince, it was a real one.

Still, he thought, as he arrived in the salle, Dinah had best be grateful. And it was all tactics. His gut still twinged with the sting of clear betrayal, but his sense of morality was as confused on this subject as anything else ever was, and so he ignored it.

[[ open! ]]

The Roof - Monday Evening

[rocksthescarf.livejournal.com]

After a rather awkward morning, Chuck spent most of the day in his room, clearing it of anything that reminded him of cuddling. Yeah, those sheets were gone for good. Gross.

Now he was sitting on the edge of the roof with a joint in his hand, getting stoned out of his mind. He needed it after this weekend.

[Expecting one but totally open since it's a roof and all]