Shooting Range, Friday Morning

[withoutverona]

It wasn't that Romeo had spent the time since Monday and its goodbyes sulking, exactly. He had sulked, but there had been research to do on business schools in Tokyo, and papers to fill out, and innumerable emails and phone calls with his father to hammer out his plans; when he finally found a school that was willing to consider taking him at this late date, he almost felt happy enough to overcome his sulk.

The forms had been mailed off Thursday, with a donation attached in addition to the usual fees to make up for the university's trouble. All Romeo could still do was hope they'd find their way to the right desk.

On Friday, he arose early and decided to spend part of the time he had entirely too much of at the shooting range. Wearing safety equipment on for once, he rhythmically shot off rounds into a target.

Maybe he'd try it left-handed.

[OOC: Open range, yep.]

The Roof, Friday Morning

[intraspective]

Ino was so glad there was something going on tomorrow because, seriously, she was starting to go stir crazy with lack of things to do. Yes, she had research, and studying, and training to do, but all of that was so not enough to keep herself occupied or to distract her from the steadily emptying dorms.

Which was why she’d wandered up to the roof, Staffy in tow, with the vague idea of maybe going for a bit of a fly. So far, all she’d managed to do, was sprawl out on the blanket she’d brought with her and stare at the sky. The clouds reminded her of Shikamaru, so she started trying to decide what each cloud-shape looked the most like.

She’d get to flying. In a bit.

[Open, of course!]

3rd Floor Common Room - Friday morning

[bad-nose-job.livejournal.com]

With nothing to do and no roommate to talk to, Penelope wandered down the hall to the common room with her box of Ho Ho's tucked under her arm. She poured herself a glass of milk and walked over to the couch and made herself comfortable before she reached for the remote to turn the TV on. Finding nothing much of interest, she left it on the food channel, settling in to watch this man make pastry.

Penelope should really learn to cook.


[Common room is open, of course.]

The Salle, Friday Morning

[bitchprince]

There had been a moment where Arthur had flirted with the idea of not showing up at all. There were more pressing matters to deal with - the only problem was that the only thing he had right now involved waiting: for Liir to find something, for the Lady Zoe to hold her audience for the day, for-- something.

He wasn't up for much of Dinah's cheer, either, and he'd have preferred a male training partner just so he could have something to squarely beat the shit out of for his own nerves' sake, but it seemed he'd have neither.

He brought a staff with him into the salle, tapping it on the floor once before he settled into a stance. Any exercise might keep his mind off things until he actually got to act; he was fairly aching for some action.

There just weren't any answers he could use.

[[ arthur is expecting one, but the salle is a free and open space ]]