Third Floor Common Room [Sunday morning/early afternoon]

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

Celia normally rose early -- it was partly a defense mechanism, so she could get everything she needed for the day under way before her father rose from his hangover. But after all of yesterday's commotion and surprises, she found herself still abed when it was nearly noon, on Saturday morning.

She quickly found a warm winter dress in her trunk and pulled her hair up in a passable bundle of curls, then ventured out to the common room. Supposedly this was where food could be found -- after the picnic yesterday, she'd not had much interest in seeking out still more food, but today was a different story.

The first and easiest-to-access item she encountered was a blue box bearing a tiger and the words 'Frosted Flakes,' sitting out on a countertop. Celia frowned at it, then peeked around before opening the box. She didn't want to go into someone else's food, but she'd also been given the impression that this was where community items were kept, so....

Hm. Flakes. And they did indeed look frosted. Celia gingerly plucked one of the little morsels out of the box and tried it, then decided she liked it enough to keep eating from the box as she perused the kitchen. Yes, it was much less dignified than how she'd behave with company about, but that was neither here nor there since she was alone for the moment. She was strongly considering levitating things down from top shelves, too -- her father would have told her that if she didn't use her magic, it would lose power, of course, but Celia was still a little cautious about possible witnesses and what it meant that she was here.

She had more pressing concerns at the moment, though. "What in the devil's name is a Froot Loop?"

[totally open, whooooooo! save me from housework. EDIT: shhh it never said Saturday. wishful thinking.]

The Salle, Sunday Crack o'Dawn Until Well Into The Afternoon

[jaegerborn.livejournal.com]

You got used to certain things, in Jaeger Academy. Like getting up at five sharp and spending the next fourteen hours in the Kwoon, working your arse off. Chuck didn't have any instructors now, or any fellow students to practice against-- didn't matter. He'd been slacking for over a week now, waiting for this new school, and it was time to pick things back up again.

Even if he was nursing a minor hangover. In fact, the hangover helped pick up the right level of aggression - that level that he was unleashing on one of the poor practice dummies right now. Going through the forms, hitting at least half of the major ones. Keep going. Keep working at it.

When he got back to the Academy in summer, he had to be in the same shape as everyone else. It didn't matter he'd be forced to stick to a crazy island boarding school, or that his father seemed to have lost his goddamned mind-- he was gonna keep working for it.

Max sat in the corner of the room, his leash tied to one of the benches. Training or not, there was no way Chuck was letting the pup out of his sight.

[[ open! ]]