Second floor common room, Friday evening

[abitlegless.livejournal.com]

Ender had told him about television when he'd been trying to explain the computer and holograms: light that was shaped into things. Hiccup hadn't actually made the connection between the box he'd seen in the common room and television until he'd come wandering in search of food and seen the pictures playing across the glass.

Quest for food forgotten, he dropped to his knees in front of it, eyes wide, one hand on the glass. There were people and animals and machines and some sort of magical liquid that promised to make him irresistible to girls if he sprayed it all over himself. There was even a man on a horse.

Enraptured, Hiccup just kept staring, eyes about six inches from the screen.

[OOC: Open, of course! But you may have to shove the Viking out of the way if you want to watch TV.]

The Roof, Saturday Morning

[wwiii]

Everybody had their grumpy days. Or their uncomfortable days, or their just plain wrong-side-of-the-bed days. And for any reason under the sun, really. It all depended on what was up.

What was up for Warren was spring, headed into summer. Which meant fewer layers or even just the option of lounging around shirtless, a heightened likelihood of seeing pretty girls wearing less than they were a few months ago, and, less pleasantly, a molt.

Large feathered wings were amazing, breathtaking, and absolutely liberating right up until you realized that having a pair of them meant that you'd have to deal with itching, feather dust, and pinfeathers on a seasonal basis. And so Warren had made his way up to the roof in an effort to at least minimize some of the mess in his room to spare Hinata the headache, and was now sitting on the edge, frowning at a molted four-foot long primary feather and trying to figure out what the heck to do with it as he turned it over in his hand.

This sort of thing was so much easier to deal with when his dad could just smuggle it all out through his company as 'medical waste.'

[I don't know. All I know is that I've been vacuuming up cockatiel dust for weeks now, and finally he's starting to drop real feathers so it's time to torment Warren thus. But the roof is open!]

The Gym, Saturday Morning

[endsthegame]

If there was one thing Ender was loath to miss out of his schedule, it was his morning exercise. Two years since he'd arrived here, and he still hadn't quite gotten rid of the habit; by now, it was as comforting as anything ever was, a simple focal point of structure in his day.

He slung his towel over his shoulders as he came in, loosening up his hand and wrist with gentle kneading motions with his other thumb. Weight-lifting, beyond a certain point, was fairly useless for his purposes, but it was good to keep his lower body strength up.

Bikes, first - torso after, in the same ritual he'd been following every day since 2008. He took a deep breath and sat down, pressed his feet to the pedals and his hands to the support bars, and started moving.

He was quickly lost in the sense of his own muscles working. It was nice.

[[ totally open, although I'll be gone for a short while after posting! ]]

Fifth Floor Common Room - Saturday Evening

[boywonder03.livejournal.com]

Tim ordered pizza for himself and got a few extra boxes, since he was starting to get a feel of how things worked around here. He turned on the TV and found the Gotham Knights game on one of the high-numbered digital channels. Third inning and the Metropolis Meteors were already leading by four runs. Tim picked up a slice of artichoke heart and Canadian bacon pizza and settled in to watch his team get their asses kicked.