Wednesday Morning, the Deck

[inthereflexes.livejournal.com]

Jack was bouncing a ball off the furniture and the steps outside on the deck. It was too early to be emo contemplative on the roof, so the deck was the next best place as he sat and thought about things. About Fandom. About the people here. About.... where he would be this time next year.

And if he'd ticked off Karla that other day. Hey, he got pizza out of it, couldn't be too bad.

The Salle, Wednesday, Mid-Day

[notasuiciderisk.livejournal.com]

Eric was frustrated.

No, contrary to what one might expect, that frustration didn't have anything to do with any particular flowers or scents around the island. In fact, the frustration had everything to do with his complete and utter inability to use a sword.

He glared at the practice sword in his hand -- one of the lightest ones available, in fact -- and almost began swearing at it before he sighed, collected himself, and began once again his unpracticed swings at the practice dummy.

Goddammit, he was going to learn how to use a sword, if only for his Rangering workshop.

[Expecting one in particular, but open salle is open!]

The Roof [Wednesday, Afternoon]

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy hadn't really noticed the flowers, and certainly hadn't considered any affect they might have on her mood, but she was up for enjoying the warmth today, at least after the midday heat had passed, anyway. So she was up on the roof again, sitting right on the edge, and smoking. Nothing illegal today, even.

Class had actually been rather... enjoyable, and she was hoping to keep up that feeling for the remainder of her day. She could be the kind of brooding sort she was, and still make the most of an afternoon in the heat at the same time, yes.


[[Open roof! Effy's um, totally dirty on a regular day, so... fair warning.]]

Fifth Floor Common Room, Wednesday Evening

[wantstobehuman.livejournal.com]

George was in a good mood.

Scratch that, George was in a very good mood.

He bustled around the kitchen area of the common room, wonderful smells spreading out as he set out a couple of serving platters. There was a salad of diced vegetables -- red, green and yellow peppers, mushrooms, red onion, and broccoli florets cooked just 'til warm, not actually cooked, and dressed with a cracked-pepper-and-lime balsamic vinaigrette; a pile of hamburgers, big, juicy patties on whole-wheat buns, with an array of toppings just to the side, and pretty much any moddable condiment you could want; and, finally, thanks to the ancient ice cream machine he'd unearthed (and thoroughly cleaned) -- God only knew where it had come from -- there was lime-and-rosewater sorbetto chilling in the freezer for anyone who wanted it for dessert.

George filled his own plate -- three burgers tonight, topped with sauteed mushrooms and onions, swiss and cheddar cheese, and a thick slice of beefsteak tomato each, and a large helping of the salad -- and sat down to watch whatever brainless movie was on TV.

[Don't mind me! I'm just continuing my tradition of making everyone hungry. :D ]

Third floor common room, late Wednesday night

[cataclysmicluck.livejournal.com]

Zayne was stranding himself out of his dorm room. Force only knew what - if anything - Claudia would wear to sleep tonight and that would just be awkward. Way too awkward to get any sleep.

So he eventually made his way to the common room and laid down on the couch. He could get some sleep here. And he was a light enough sleeper. He'd hear if anyone was coming and then he could pretend that he was watching TV and not just avoiding his cute roommate. Not his cute roommate. Just his roommate. Ahem.

Zayne pulled his outer robe off and balled it up to use as a pillow, and then he let himself drift off to sleep in the common room. What could go wrong?

[OOC: Zayne's asleep, but the common room is open! And he's a heavier sleeper than he thinks he is. So, if you're inclined to walk in and draw on his face or something, please, feel free. Just don't break any laws.]