The Salle, Monday morning early

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Dinah had gotten a voice message in the middle of the night before she could grab her phone. Then she'd gotten a handwavey but approved text two minutes later that said: DON'T THINK YOU'RE NOT PRACTICING WHILE I'M GONE, DINAH. She was willing to bet that he'd figure out radio podcasts just to check on this, too. But probably only if she didn't practice. That's just the way her luck ran.

So this is Dinah. Killing a practice dummy in Arthur's honor.

[open, up early so I don't forget, but I'm not online 'til midday.]

Third Floor Common Room - Monday Afternoon

[formermayqueen.livejournal.com]

Cordelia was in a great mood today. Nothing traumatizing had happened over the weekend, she's managed to avoid all but Buffy despite saying she'd wanted to run into the other Xander, and it was just a good day. A good start to the week even. And she decided to start it off by baking, since that was the only sort of cooking that Cordelia Chase did, and sharing with anyone who wanted some.

There were two platters of brownies, one with nuts and one without, a towering platter of rice crispy treats and she was working on frosting several dozen cupcakes.

5th Floor Common Room - Stupidly Early Monday Morning

[weetinyreese.livejournal.com]

The sun wasn't even up yet, so Kyle wasn't sure if now counted as morning. He eventually decided it was close enough, which meant it was cereal time. And toast time. And Pop Tart time. And eggs time. The television was on with some show about psychic private investigators and the table in front of the couch had several plates and a jug of juice. Anyone would think he'd had a busy weekend or something with the way he was packing away the food.

Second Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

[wantstodirect]

Tony had a bag of popcorn and a bomb bottle of cola and was ready for the Halloween episode of Darkest Night. Tonight, Raymond Dark and James Taylor Grant would take a road trip to a farmstead to track down a mysterious killer - could it be the scarecrow?

(It could.)

[Open!]

Outside the Dorms, Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate Monday Night/Early Tuesday Morning

[glacial_queen]

Karla fled towards the dorms, running as if there were Hell-hounds flat on her heels. Just a little bit further, she thought. Just a little bit faster… She was flagging, and quickly, but she reached down deep in her reserves and dredged up enough energy for one last little burst of speed.

( Too bad it was impossible to outrun one’s own fragmenting mind. )

[ So starts the plot of Crazy! Open for reactions from anyone inside. Psychics, empaths, telepaths, people prone to odd dreams, random people up at stupid o’clock in the morning—anyone can react to the waves of emotion. Karla herself is not available for interaction. Further posts can be found here and then here. These posts are NFI, save for Plot-slaves Team Rescue! WARNING: MORE DARK THEMES AND CREEPINESS AHEAD. POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING. AFTERMATH OF VIOLENCE, PARTICULARLY SEXUAL AND AGAINST CHILDREN. I WARN BECAUSE I CARE.

Yes, my canon is MADE OF WRONG.]