Fourth Floor Common Room | Sunday Morning

[puppywithatutu.livejournal.com]

Making coffee wasn't exactly rocket science, but waiting for it to brew was maybe going to kill Caroline.

"Come on, come on, come on!" she ordered impatiently, leaning against the counter in hopes that her stare would make the machine work faster. "If I felt like taking half my day to get coffee, I'd have gone into town and flirted with the barista. Or like, paddled a freaking boat to Colombia to get the beans from Juan Valdez. This is just ridiculous."

She paused, realizing what she was doing. "Oh God, why am I talking to inanimate objects?"

Another pause as the coffee pot groaned in percolation completion. "Aaaand now I'm talking to myself. Great. Fantastic. Now I'll just pour myself some coffee and hope that I can manage to drink enough to shut up." Extra sugar mixed with her caffeine could only help that, right? Whatever, the coffee was good and the sofa was comfortable and it was Sunday and there was nothing better to do.

[Very much open.]

The Gym, Sunday Afternoon

[brat_inslayage]

So. Kennedy had heard the radio last night. Part of her was bummed about not getting to go along, but another part of her-- adjacent to if not necessarily the same part that was pummeling the crap out of the heavy bag right now (or trying to; she still wasn't hitting that thing nearly as solidly as she wished she could)-- had a feeling it was a good thing she hadn't.

She'd spent a good chunk of the morning on the phone with Constance, who'd been way more than a little alarmed when Kennedy'd barely waited until hellos were exchanged to start in on a barrage of questions about people coming back from the dead, but had, to her credit, explained fairly patiently what a very bad idea that typically was. (In their world's terms, anyway, which of course were terms toward which Constance was pretty strongly biased, and Kennedy had been too agitated to pay much thought to subtleties like other worlds maybe not following those rules.)

She knew she should be glad, and maybe she was. Just... it'd brought everything back: the frustration, the trauma, the anger at being used the way they had. All of that drowned out the relief, and if it was petty of her she didn't care. She should be happier about this, but mostly, right now what she wanted was to go off on Raven for letting all of this happen-- not just to her, to all of them, but she was still selfish enough that she was furious about the part she'd had to play.

Here was where the wacky came in: she was actually aware of the fact that it'd be a bad idea to do that.

Thus the gym, and the heavy bag, and the trying to wear herself into exhaustion or just burn all the anger off. Probably not the most constructive use of her time, but she cared less about constructive and more about venting.

[[cranky potential is cranky, but open gym post is open! i'm still doing the con thing today so I may be slow, but free con wifi is happy. ironically i may be around more than i usually am on weekends.]]

Fifth Floor Common Room; Sunday Evening [ 01/30 ].

[shes-got-legs.livejournal.com]

Ariel was hungry, but Ariel was also lazy, and, since she really shouldn't be cooking anyway, she was glad she was discovering the joy that was toaster-ready French Toast.

She only even burned a few of them! And that could easily be solved by dousing them in plenty of maple syrup. A little bit of orange juice to wash it down, and Ariel was feeling like she had herself a plate full of culinary, gourmet awesomeness! Now to just find a comfortable spot on the couch, kick her feet up on the coffee table, and see if there was anything good on television to watch while she had her shut up totally healthy dinner.

[[ open common room is open and inspired by the fact that my awesome roommate made me nummy french toast for dinner!!! Roommate, you are winrar. ]]