Fourth Floor Common Room [Sunday evening]

[dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com]

So, okay, Olive had sort of...sublimated all the stuff from yesterday. It was just easier, if she stopped freaking out and just rolled with stuff. So, okay, yesterday she'd met a guy from another galaxy and a robot and hey her roommate could fly. No big deal. Really.

You know what was helping? TV. Olive wasn't like, a TV junkie or anything, but being able to count on a Sunday afternoon spent in front of a marathon of the meta for Futurama was like a universal constant. A multi-universal nexus constant, even, it seemed.

So Olive had brought out her sewing to the common room and flung herself down on the couch, eyes half-trained on the screen and half on her needle. Eventually, she might even get up and make popcorn or something, but that seemed like work. Right now, she was good where she was, thanks.

[open, totes. And do you know how hard it is to make up a meta for Futurama? I don't usually give up on these things.]