http://union-jane.livejournal.com/ (
union-jane.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2006-08-31 11:21 am
Fourth Floor Common Room//Thursday Morning
Seras had taken the medicine that Ms. Poppins had given her before bed last night. It had, oddly enough, tasted just like gingerbeer. And, it seemed to be at least somewhat effective.
Seras still looked rather corpse-like, but her appetite was back. Which was a good thing because the two pairs of jeans that she hadn't cut up while under the impression that she was, in fact, an anarchist punkish rebel, were starting to bag at the waist.
Still clad in pajamas and wearing thick, though mismatched socks, she'd made her way down to the Common Room and fixed herself (and anyone else who cared for some) a large batch of apple cinnamon oatmeal with lots of brown sugar.
She was now curled up on the couch, dividing her attention between her breakfast, the old Errol Flynn movie that was on tv, and her copy of the London Times, circa 1993.
[Open!]
Seras still looked rather corpse-like, but her appetite was back. Which was a good thing because the two pairs of jeans that she hadn't cut up while under the impression that she was, in fact, an anarchist punkish rebel, were starting to bag at the waist.
Still clad in pajamas and wearing thick, though mismatched socks, she'd made her way down to the Common Room and fixed herself (and anyone else who cared for some) a large batch of apple cinnamon oatmeal with lots of brown sugar.
She was now curled up on the couch, dividing her attention between her breakfast, the old Errol Flynn movie that was on tv, and her copy of the London Times, circa 1993.
[Open!]

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And had Tyler convinced he was losing time again.
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Not that Tyler was identifying or anything.
"That's great, Blair. Really great."
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No one gave him that choice, anyhow.
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"I think when the bad Jamie was made it was just the angry parts without the rest of his personality to compensate. So in essence, it was him and yet it wasn't. I would hate to inflict just a bad side of me with no conscience on my friends, but I would hope they would understand that it wasn't truly me." Blair shuddered. "Wouldn't you?"
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"I have an alternate personality," Tyler said. "Much more secure, much more charming, much more violent. I don't always know everything he does." He paused. "It's under control right now."
He ran a hand through his hair. "So you could say I know what Jamie's going through."
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"Wait, you know what Jamie's going through and you still hit him? Shouldn't you be treating him better than anyone else?"
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Then again, he had never apologized. He idly wondered what would happen if he did.
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He shrugged. "I'm not asking for a medal. But no, Jamie doesn't get to say it was his evil duplicate and he's off the hook. Doesn't work that way."
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"What happened to you because of what your other personality did?"
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Actually, that might almost be enough. Well, that and the suit.
"What I did or didn't do is a story for another day," he said lightly. "Nothing I want to talk about."
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"You know, man." Blair added seriously. "If you ever do want to talk, I'm willing to listen. I'm pretty good at accepting people without judging."
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The rest of what Blair said wasn't quite in one ear and out the other, but he didn'tt want to adress it.
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