Jackson Whittemore (
nomoresportscars) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2013-06-13 02:02 pm
Entry tags:
Big Top Bounce Campfire, Thursday Morning
Jackson was getting pretty ready to move out of the campgrounds. Actually, he'd been pretty ready to move out from the moment he'd first seen the bouncy castles, and that had been before he'd found out that he'd be waking up every damn night to find Stiles drooling on his shoulder after rolling across the castle to where he was. So if the girls in the castle had been woken up by his bark of "GET OFF ME, STILINSKI" several times in the past week and a half, well, Jackson was ––
... Well, no, Jackson wasn't sorry. If he was suffering, so should everyone else.
But apart from the continued inconvenience of living inside a children's play area, Jackson was actually in an okay mood. With the kanima business him, he was feeling pretty good about himself. Strong and powerful, even. Werewolf now, and not someone else's plaything. Things were looking up. (And he was yet to realize what day the day after tomorrow was, and consequently, what day tomorrow was.) All in all, this meant that while he was sitting outside by the unlit firepit, eating a cold Pop Tart for breakfast, it might actually not be a hugely bad time to approach him.
By Jackson's standards, anyway.
[OOC: Open!]
... Well, no, Jackson wasn't sorry. If he was suffering, so should everyone else.
But apart from the continued inconvenience of living inside a children's play area, Jackson was actually in an okay mood. With the kanima business him, he was feeling pretty good about himself. Strong and powerful, even. Werewolf now, and not someone else's plaything. Things were looking up. (And he was yet to realize what day the day after tomorrow was, and consequently, what day tomorrow was.) All in all, this meant that while he was sitting outside by the unlit firepit, eating a cold Pop Tart for breakfast, it might actually not be a hugely bad time to approach him.
By Jackson's standards, anyway.
[OOC: Open!]

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He didn't need all that pop-tart, right?
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So said hopeful polar bear dog was getting eyed warily right now. "No, Naga."
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Naga laid her head by his feet and kept looking up expectantly at him.
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With perhaps slightly less resolve this time, but that was neither here nor there.
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At least an entire hour.
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Then he sighed heavily, rolled his eyes – and broke off about half of his pop tart to hold out to her. "But don't expect this to become a habit."
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He gave that a quiet snort as he went to eat the rest of his breakfast. Before that'd end up in her belly as well.
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She flopped onto her back, legs in the air.
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No, she probably wasn't. And he had to wonder whether this was some kind of wolf side effect but nope, she'd probably always been like this.
But he wasn't feeling like that much of a jerk right now, and there wasn't even anyone watching, so with another oh so put-upon sigh, he reached out to give her a few maybe somewhat awkward belly rubs. Someone hadn't had pets, growing up.
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Naturally, that was when Korra came around the bouncy castle after realising Naga wasn't hanging around hers, and boy was she glad for the existence of camera phones right now.
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But he didn't look up, or even pull his hand away from what it was doing. Didn't need that to know what was happening. "Don't play paparazzi, Korra."
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Naga was just going to stay riiiiiiiight where she was, thanks.
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"My adoring fans back, missing me in Beacon Hills."
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Harsh, Korra.
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"Well, all the better for the failure of your paparazzi attempts."
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Jackson. Jackson, sometimes the squirrels reported people waking up.