The Preserve, Wednesday Afternoon

[glacial_queen]

There were things one might consider to be cookies at the reserve today. Might, if one had an iron stomach or an entire bottle of Tums handy to deal with them after managing to choke one down.

Merlin was faaar too chipper about them, though. Because he baked something. With Karla, but they managed it somehow!

"Good morning! Today we will be talking about how to communicate with each other in case of emergency and any ways you all have to do so magically." A beat. " And I suppose the cell phones are also a bit like magic."

Nevermind that now, Merlin.

"So please, share if you have any particular way that we all might learn!"

He looked to Karla to see what she had to say on the matter.

"Among my people, we can speak on what we call psychic threads," Karla said, also beaming proudly at the lump of black and gray 'cookies' on the table. She had baked!

And it had only been a small fire, anyhow. Ish.

"The good thing about psychic threads is that you aren't limited to a single person. I could send a thought to Merlin on a a thread specifically meant for him, or to a group, or all males, or, back home, all people of a specific Jewel rank, or to anyone at all who can hear me."

"But there are other forms of communication, too. If you're in an emergency and you don't or can't worry about enemies, something as simple as a flare of magic can pinpoint people to your location. There are messages that can be triggered by a specific use of magic so that anyone else who sees the message will be confronted by a blank sheet until the spell is cast."

"What are some other ways you can communicate magically? I'm wary to trust my cellphone. It stopped working in Kaeleer without warning, so it could happen anytime."

It didn't help that Kaeleer has neither satellites or cellphone towers, but that was far beyond Karla's understanding.

"After we've discussed our options, we're going to play a small game. There are a pile of handwavy messages on that table over there," she said, pointing to the pile of foled note cards next to the totally delicious looking cookies she and Merlin had brought. There were also blank notecards and pencils nearby. "Grab a partner and a message and try to communicate magically."

She grinned at them again. "And don't forget to eat the cookies!" she chirped.

Do it. Don't let the kitchen's sacrifice be in vain.

[Written with bigdamndestiny. Eat the cookies. Doooo it. You know you want to. You can eat them while you're waiting for the OCD is up!]

Second Floor Common Room, Wednesday Afternoon

[puppy_fair]

Now that Zack was officially done with classes for the summer, it was time for a little getting out and about and being social. It was also, Zack decided, the perfect time to get the gerbil that Deadpool had given him out for some exercise.

And that was why, armed with a hamster ball and a bunch of notebooks, Zack was hard at work constructing the most epic gerbil floor-maze the second floor common room had ever seen!

Poor, poor Mr. Winkles.

[Open, as common rooms tend to be!]

Outside the Dorms; Wednesday Afternoon [ After Workshops; 08/19 ].

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

This was it. While Turtle, who was never going to shake off how much she hated that she'd been accused of bombings she'd never done in the past, was not one to support the damage of public property, especially not so close to a very important election, she felt much more strongly about her hatred of gym class uniforms...and her annoyance with certain teachers' usage of them. She liked to think that many fellow students felt the same way, too, and it was a destructive position she felt her campaign would gladly suffer.

And being Mr. Dex's TA made getting the uniforms all the easier, too.

It would have been nicer to do this in the main campfire, but right outside the dorms would be a higher traffic spot. There, in a very contained and approved fire ring, was crackling the beginnings of a nice little bonfire, mingled with the smell of burning spandex/polyester blend, as Turtle fed more of the gym uniforms into the fire, smirking proudly.

It was almost tradition, really.

"Come on!" she called brightly to passersby, and might even toss a uniform or two their way. "Down with crappy gym uniforms! They severe our individuality and insult our sense of fashion! Burn 'em all!"


[ uniforms so burned with permission, and of course the post is open! ]

Fifth Floor Common Room, Wednesday Evening

[weetuskenraider]

The TV was still tuned to Fox Soccer Channel, but the sound had been muted and Tahiri was sitting on the couch with the remote in her hand, arms crossed and glaring at the screen. If you looked at said screen, it was playing soundless highlights of the semifinal playoff game between St. Louis Athletica and Sky Blue FC.

Every time a graphic flashed up on the screen proclaiming that the final score had been 1-0 Sky Blue, she'd glower a little more.

"Stupid, stupid . . . why couldn't you guys capitalize? You had all that momentum going in the second half and you took some really bad shots!" she complained, before going off into a half-muttered rant about bad field positioning and not enough of an offensive mindset.

Wait, when had she started paying attention to the strategy in this sport? Weird.

[OOC: . . . shut up. And open, of course.]