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fandomhighdorms2011-04-12 08:25 pm
willbethenight.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhighdorms2011-04-12 08:25 pm
Entry tags:
Fifth Floor Common Room, Tuesday night
The end of the semester was starting to approach quickly. This week, prom. No date. That was fine, Bruce could go without one. Next week, finals. That was simple, of course. Graduation in a few weeks? Wasn't his, didn't matter.
But now he was trying to work out his training schedule for the summer and, of course, he had to pick a mystical hidden city that was spoken of only in rumors. You had to figure out where it might be, get clearance to land your plane someplace nearby, make sure you had the proper mountain climbing gear.... It was a much bigger ordeal than just scampering off to New York for some boxing training.
But even Bruce needed a break from that. And that meant challenging the television until for one of the final times before summer. Bruce was, of course, aiming for Mobsters on the Biography Channel. So the television gave him Dancing With the Stars.
Oh, TV. Bruce was glaring at you so hard. He was staring with the kind of intense hatred that would pop popcorn if it got in the way and... huh. There was a bowl of popcorn on the table. Bruce was positive it wasn't there before he started glaring.
In actuality, a gremlin dropped it off, but Bruce had been too busy glaring to notice that.
[OOC: My brain is apparently odd tonight. And always. OPEN CR.]
But now he was trying to work out his training schedule for the summer and, of course, he had to pick a mystical hidden city that was spoken of only in rumors. You had to figure out where it might be, get clearance to land your plane someplace nearby, make sure you had the proper mountain climbing gear.... It was a much bigger ordeal than just scampering off to New York for some boxing training.
But even Bruce needed a break from that. And that meant challenging the television until for one of the final times before summer. Bruce was, of course, aiming for Mobsters on the Biography Channel. So the television gave him Dancing With the Stars.
Oh, TV. Bruce was glaring at you so hard. He was staring with the kind of intense hatred that would pop popcorn if it got in the way and... huh. There was a bowl of popcorn on the table. Bruce was positive it wasn't there before he started glaring.
In actuality, a gremlin dropped it off, but Bruce had been too busy glaring to notice that.
[OOC: My brain is apparently odd tonight. And always. OPEN CR.]
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You could say that. "Don't hold any of those against me."
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