the gym; saturday afternoon

[flickofthewrist]

Last weekend about this time, Flick had been someone else who enjoyed the simple things in life like blood, torture, fighting, and destruction. Flick remembered those things acutely even if he'd gotten better at realizing it hadn't really been him. Still, they weren't great things to have suddenly pop up and tease you with.

It was too cold to go brood on the roof and he didn't want to stay in his room so the gym was the most logical place to be. He found his way right over to the heavy bag and, after some warming up, started striking it with stiff jabs and the occasional harder hook.

Chase hadn't been all that fond of using his hands to fight, Flick remembered. He preferred using powers that Flick did not have but would probably be helpful in some instances. He figured he could go take down the Mandel alumni one by one, find Frank and bring him home and never worry about worrying again.

When Flick realized he what he was thinking about, what he was wanting, he grimaced and hit the bag harder and harder. The thoughts wouldn't go away though and he stopped trying to make them. He just hit the bag some more.

[Open]

4th floor common room, Saturday evening

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

The day had been mostly uneventful, and Ichabod had left his room to enjoy whatever the television had to offer. Surely there had to be something that would make him roll his eyes at modern times? In order for the evening to be even more enjoyable he had bought ice cream, chocolate, strawberry and vanilla, and of course this should be enjoyed with a cup of tea.

After deciding against a disturbing movie with walking corpses trying to eat people, something involving indecent dancing, another movie with excessive amount of kissing, he found something that caught his interest. Gossip from his own time, how could he resist that?

[Open!]