Fourth floor hallway, stairs, and the third floor- Wednesday Evening

[deliciouslucky.livejournal.com]

"They're after me Lucky Charms!"

That wee exclamation broke the silence of the fourth floor hallway as a wee leprechaun carrying a large pot of breakfast cereal made a manic run for safety, pausing to look into empty rooms for the perfect hiding place for himself and his precious treasure.

He just couldn't get a break. Everywhere he went, pesky children were trying to steal his Lucky Charms.
This would have to stop.

Down the stairs he ran, leaving a trail of magically delicious cereal behind him as he made his way to the third floor, peering into more empty rooms, desperate for a place to hide - any place to hide.

Finally, he found his haven behind a door marked "333." The room held the faint stench of body odor, but there was a pleasant faux-fur sun hanging from the wall, and the closet, it was most invitingly empty...


[[OOC: Feel free to gawk at Lucky as he runs by, but he's not about to interact with anyone except the handful of us who are already chasing him to Macbeth's room.]]

Comments

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

Hamlet carefully followed the sugary trail down the stairs wondering where exactly all these stars, hearts, horseshoes, clovers, and blue moons, pots of gold and rainbows, and the red balloons were coming from. Was there some kind of new horror at this school that dropped sugar breakfast snacks in its wake? Was this like the tale of Hansel and Gretel?

He wasn't sure, but he could feel that some kind of corporate evil was behind it.

[sea-incarnadine.livejournal.com]

Macbeth didn't particularly care about what sort of evil was the cause of these pieces of marshmallowey goodness. He was hungry.

So, naturally, he picked the odd marshmallow off the floor as he followed the trail and popped them into his mouth.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Maybe it's an invasion?" Bridge asked, resisting the urge to eat a clover-shaped marshmallow. "Or maybe we'll all die horrible, horrible deaths at the hands of a cereal killer?"

[sea-incarnadine.livejournal.com]

Macbeth wasn't terribly worried about any cereal killers.

Had he been paying more thorough attention in Forensics class, he might even know the nature of the bad pun. Fortunately, he didn't catch it.

"I'm not worried about any killer, unless they're not of woman born," he said proudly as a purple horseshoe met its cruel end.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Bridge is trying to figure out how that "not of woman born" thing would work.

The possibilities hurt his brain.

So he just continues to follow the cereal trail.

[sea-incarnadine.livejournal.com]

The cereal trail led down the stairs, and Macbeth followed it hungrily curiously.

What manner of walking cereal was this, then?

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

Hamlet doesn't want to think of this "not of woman" born thing, so he ignores the comment. Because that goes to the dark and Dirty! place that he doesn't want to head to right now.

"Why is there so much cereal here? Just how much of it did the person who left this trail have on them to drop all this?"

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Maybe they're made of cereal?" Bridge suggests with a shrug.

[sea-incarnadine.livejournal.com]

"Cereal.. that leads into my room," Macbeth said flatly as they reached the third floor and the Lucky Charms trail took a sharp turn.

He pushed the slightly ajar door open entirely, squinting at the usual brightness of the decorations that his old roomie had left behind (that Faux-Fur sun was never going to go away), and followed the cereal bits across his floor, toward his closet.