Second Floor Common Room, Wee Hours of Tuesday Morning

[glacial_queen]

There was a small, black lace bra prominently displayed on the coffee table in the second-floor common room. There were no identifying marks on it (that idea having been properly vetoed by both parties involved), though there did happen to be a thin strand of spidersilk attached to one strap.

Should a discriminating party notice that thread and happen to glance upwards, they would see that thread looped over a small hook in the common room ceiling. Dangling from the other side of the thread was a small, heavily-weighted net. Should our hypothetical observer be both discriminating in judgment and vision, he or she would surely come to the most obvious conclusion: it was a trap. Should the bra be pulled, the thread would snap. Should the thread snap, the net would fall. Should the net fall, whoever was trying to steal the bra would (hopefully!) be caught.

And, even more hopefully, it would trap those damned Smurfs!


[Open like a common room is! And bra is most definitely open for interaction.

Can I take "Lines I never expected to write for $300 Alex?"]

Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

[puppy_fair]

"Alright!" When the Reserves crew assembled today, they'd be greeted by Zack, holding up... Half a sword! The last two feet of the length of his blade were nowhere to be seen, and what survived was the hilt, and a length of metal that had definitely seen better days. "Broken weapons! They happen! I know some of you think your blades are all but invincible, but considering the sorts of things we see around here every day, I think it'd be safe to assume that someday, something will invade that stands a chance at disarming even you."

Like, say, Klingons.

Zack tossed what was left of his sword onto the ground at his feet, and then crossed his arms over his chest.

"A broken weapon means that you're going to have two problems. First, the very immediate issue of an enemy that quite possibly has now gained a serious upper hand against you. And second, the eventual repair or replacement of your weapon." He perked a little, giving his hands a clap together. "So! What we're going to do today is discuss both. Can you hold your own in a fight with something big and mean if you've been disarmed? Is your weapon still capable of doing some damage with what might be left? My sword isn't any good for attacking anymore, but at least I can use it to block incoming attacks with what's still there. And then talk about the repair or replacement. Is there someone on the island who can fix your weapon in particular? Can you find another one if it's beyond repair, or is it one of a kind?"

"Some of you may remember the meeting we held on searching your environment for an appropriate weapon," Arthur cut in, "In a pinch, remember to look around you, and to make use of what you've got. In fact, you're best off making sure you've got the measure of the area before you even start - lest you lose a flail and don't know to find the blunt instrument you might need to take out your enemy." NOT THAT HE KNEW ANYTHING ABOUT THAT. "Look around the grounds -- do you see anything you could use to your advantage if disarmed? And, on a related note - how great are your skills of avoidance -- although we'll go into that next week."

[OCD is up and the Reserves are open to all!]

Throughout the Dorm, Tuesday Morning and Early Afternoon

[not-jaded-yet.livejournal.com]

With no class today, Jennifer took the time to finally get up her campaign posters

( Cut for image )

[The text reads: Jennifer Walters for Student Council Junior Representative. A Hulking Good Choice]

She'd happily chat with anyone that wanted to, as she put up the posters. She might get more votes that way.

[ooc: Open, sure!]

Around the Dorms [Tuesday afternoon]

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

Triela had a stack of hand-lettered posters. Fortunately, Triela was actually an expert calligrapher, so they almost looked professional. Except for that whole black sharpie on white poster board. At least it was very attractive-looking sharpie on poster board.

She had considered trying to come up with something as expansive as Turtle's stuff, but that wasn't one of her strengths. Not even remotely. So she'd just kept it simple and relied on her strengths.

Triela for Student Council
Level-headed and calm

What more could she say about herself? She was pretty sure that highlighting the fact that she could shoot someone for not voting for her would be counter-productive.

[Feel free to catch Triela as she's putting up her very boring posters.]

Fourth Floor Common Room | Tuesday Afternoon | September 15

[onlysmokesnics.livejournal.com]

Hayley was lying down on a couch, poking at the TV remote. She wasn't finding anything that was interesting at all. She switched the TV off and sighed.

"Bored bored bored," she said.

She grabbed a gossip magazine from the table and started to flip through it.

"I don't even know who any of these people are!" she said, before throwing the magazine across the room.

She was getting restless. Restless and angry.

[ooc: Open to anyone and everyone.]

Fourth Floor Common Room [late evening]

[notqueenyet.livejournal.com]

Aravis, as it so often happened, could not sleep. She'd tried pacing, she'd tried reading, and eventually, she'd tried coming out to the common room to lose herself in the light of the television. Perhaps that very informative program from the other night would be on again. (And she did hope that Raven tracked it down again somehow.)

Eventually, she made herself a pot of tea, weakened with honey and milk, and set to work on a few letters home while listening to the news. She started with the one to Hwin, as that would be the easiest (though she'd have to censor her latest, er, activities somewhat.)

[YES I AM PLAYING ALL MY CHARACTERS TODAY. WHATEVER. Open CR is open.]