fandomhighdorms | Member Posts

Arden woke up a little after dawn, curled up on the ground near selkie peak after apparently being a forest all weekend. She generally didn't worry about temperatures unless they hit extremes, but even so, she felt very lucky that it was early summer and not, say, winter, where she could have woken up covered in snow, or a very rainy springtime. The grass was even surprisingly soft to lay on.

But that didn't change the face that she has, in fact, been sleeping on grass and dirt.

"This fucking island," she groaned, pushing herself upwards and dusting herself off.

...Which was how Arden discovered that, much like transforming back from a random animaling, the island had neglected to provide her with clothing to celebrate her return to personhood.

Sometimes this place really was the worst.

[Open if anyone wants to run across a naked and blushing Elemental trying to make her way home!

solo_sword

Jaina was up early in the living room, sitting on the sofa and working out what class was going to be for today since it had been a little hard to do that this weekend. Not that she didn't know how these things worked.

As expected, Jag came in the front door, looking pretty damn broody. He stood there for a second, like he hadn't counted on Jaina being right there.

"We're not talking about it," he said.

"Never talking about it," she agreed, watching as he nodded and walked into the next room.

She'd give him a whole five minutes of not talking about it.

imafuturist

Harry had not found anything out about how or why he ended up here. And doors just randomly locked on him, proving that someone (JARVIS) was pulling the strings like some kind of insidious puppet master.

Which meant he ended up on the roof through a series of doors that weren't locked.

Upside? There was a whole fridge full of cheese and wine and also a hot tub. So guess who was getting white girl wasted in the hot tub. This guy.

[for those tower mates!]

suitably_heroic

Yes, Jack believed all the Force users in the multiverse could use a few lessons in doing normal people things more often. He had frequently coerced, wheedled, and poked several of them into it over the years. But this? Making Lana Beniko, ex-Sith spymaster, man the merch booth?

Had to be his greatest achievement.

It maybe gave a little extra oomph to his performance that evening.

It was also when, after they were done, one of the first things he did was haul his sweaty ass back to the merch stand. "Sooo," he said, grinning. "How are we doing?"

[[ for a lana ]]

solo_sword

It was a concern when Jaina didn't find Jag in the house when she got up. If not for the circumstances at home, she wouldn't have thought much of it, but the boys were fine and nothing felt wrong so she tamped down the paranoia and got ready for the day.

And on the way out with the kids, she spotted the car. It was impossible not to. The streets here were not built for cars, and it almost blocked the door. Which was a concern until she came around to the side of the car and saw that it was a Jaguar.

She sighed so, so hard. "This is the saddest way to get me to handle all your calls."

[Yep. Open if you're in the area!]

deathsmajesty

Liliana and Ignis had returned home very late Friday night, late enough that it was past his usual bedtime and verging on hers, so all they did was head up to their room and go to sleep, content to catch up on a week's worth of island news - and possibly sharing news of their own - the following morning.

The island, of course, was amused that they'd made plans, and the next morning it was not Liliana Vess, Planeswalker and the Multiverse's preeminent necromancer who woke up, nor did she wake up next to her newly affianced, Ignis Scientia. Instead, Princess Lili awoke with plans to run off into the woods to find her beloved, Jack O'The Green, and ended up next to--

"Who are you?!"

[For that sassy chap next to her, please!]

heroic_jawline

Jake Jensen was not, let's say, naturally a morning person. Yes, when he was being all he could be he was up with the rest of the Army, jogging and sweating like an idiot, but that wasn't his first inclination. Or second. His inclination was to be up until all hours absolutely destroying some kids in a first-person shooter game and then really rubbing it in that he was old enough to both buy beer and grow a sweet goatee. Sometimes he would take both of those abilities to a bar in search of companionship, which, though he didn't remember doing so last night, appeared to be the case this morning.

This bed was sweet. And enormous. He stretched out his arms and legs, reveling in the feel of sheets that had definitely been washed more recently than his had, and rubbed up against a hairy leg that definitely wasn't his.

Okay. Okay. This was fine. He was an open-minded guy! He--very smoothly, okay--slid his foot up that leg again trying to decide if the leg hair was free-spirited-lady-with-no-time-for-societal-expectations hair or, you know, dude hair.

Both of which would be fine! A-Okay! Nothing to freak out about! He was definitely not freaking out and he'd shoot anyone who said he was.

[OOC: Steve is Jake Jensen from The Losers for the weekend! Open for that dude he's definitely not married to.]

needsacatchphrase

Well, Jane had for sure gone to bed as Jane Foster. Which was perfectly normal and fine for this island. But she then went and woke up as a galactic senator who for sure was confused by the non-secret husband in her bed.

And yes, her hair and makeup was somehow perfect upon waking up. And the pajamas were just unnecessarily elaborate.

Because reasons. George Lucas reasons.

"Hello?"

[for sp and the poor, poor boyfriend]

thatwaslucky

It had been a while since they'd had a sangria night, and they were pretty much due. This time it was at Rey's apartment, which had her trying to clean up some since she didn't have people over much, and she was doing that despite the fact that she didn't have much of anything. Several years in and the place was still pretty bare bones aside from the mermaid sofa and assorted mismatched furniture.

She'd ordered pizza, and it had occurred to her that she hadn't asked if Summer was bringing the sangria or not, so she'd gotten a couple bottles of something and hoped it was okay, just in case. And if not, someone was going to have to have a party she could donate it to.

[For girls night!]

chef_chocobro

After a weekend like the last, Ignis and Liliana had whisked themselves south, shirking their oh-so-pressing duties on the island to cloister for a few days in the sunny countryside villa that had entered their ever-growing roster of hideaways, habitations, and households, and weren't they both better off because of it. Of course, for Ignis, it wasn't just about some well-earned relaxation to ease the physical and mental strain and drain that went with several days hunched over in a workroom or traipsing around Innistrad.

For Ignis, things were rarely so singularly intentioned as that, although yesterday....that had been intentionally simple, a day of basking in each other's company, feasting on local foods, making idle plans that may or may not be followed through on, distractions pending, and just reveling in the intricate steps of their surprisingly easy and endless waltz. And today had been much of the same, with just a bit more laziness involved. Lounging in bed a little later, less complicated recipehs that lent themselves well to distracted cooking, skipping his training forms out on the deck in favor of appreciating the fine work of Liliana's fingers as they plucked at her lyre or brushed through his hair and behind his ears, his head in her laps, as they discussed the artistic merits of more of that Kamigawan poetry she'd recently unearthed.

And now, as evening fell, the next second. The underlying purpose. And also the edge of a potential point of no return. And one might argue that he could still step back from that precipice, but he would find that arguement faulty and flawed. The last few days had only bolstered his convictions.

He might not be able to see the slowly emerging stars in the stretch of sky darkening above them, but he could feel the coolness creeping into the air, he could hear the sounds of the day shifting into the music of the evening, and feel the oh-so-subtle weight of the shadows shifting and lengthening to let him know that the twilight hour was upon them.

"Darling?" He found Liliana, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of one of the wines they had cultivated together on one of their first ventures out here in the other. "I think tonight is an excellent one to enjoy the fruits of our labors. Don't you agree?"

[[ for the paramour, por favor, and NFB for distance~ ]]

betterthanaplan

It was Duke's birthday.

It wasn't something he'd ever made a real big deal about. Most years he wouldn't even notice it happened until well after the day had already passed. But this year? This year, when he looked at the actual date, was one that couldn't be ignored.

According to math, today was the day that Duke turned fifty.

Of course, he'd traveled back and forth through time enough times -- and spent enough chunks of time in places where it just worked different -- that he had absolutely no idea what his "biological" age would be. For all he knew, his body had reset when Lucifer resurrected him and he was actually less than a year old. But his birth date had always been June 2, 1975. And the current date, Fandom-wise (and . . . maybe in this LA? His phone still kept Fandom time, as far as he could tell) was June 2, 2025.

Fifty years. Did he feel fifty? What did fifty even feel like? He knew what "old enough to just fuck off and die" felt like. He didn't feel like that. But hopefully he wouldn't have until he was in his 80s, anyway.

He sat sprawled on Lucifer's couch, a drink on the side table, and tilted his phone this way and that as he used the selfie mode to take in his "reflection". The silver at his temples didn't seem to have grown much over the last couple years, which he supposed was good. There were a few gray hairs in his beard these days, too. Where else was he supposed to see age? None of his parents or grandparents had stuck around long enough -- or lived long enough -- to even get old. He didn't have anything for perspective.

And again, time travel. So.

"Age ain't nothin' but a number," he muttered to himself. And tried to decide if the crows feet around his eyes were too prominent or not.

[for those in LA with him, for ALL the slow play, and look. Day-after is actually REALLY GOOD for me remembering this boy's birthday, okay??]

deathsmajesty

It had taken ~~her steward~~ a week to set up her office to her specifications, but now it was once more an ode to coziness and comfort once again. She currently had a kettle going for tea, while she curled up on her chaise to go over her notes for next week's class.

And maybe nap. The arrival of baggage had lasted well into the night. Rude. What Liliana lacked in different baggage, ~~her psyche~~ the island had decided to make up in amount of it.

gospel_of_oblivion

It was a nice enough night, and Illyana had Baggage, and, well, it was time for one of her favorite traditions from her high school days --

Yeeting baggage off a roof!

She already had her wireless speakers blasting some of her favorite tunes, an entire punch bowl of Moscow Mule that she had mixed-up, more vodka in a cooler, a lawn chair, and an truly impressive array of portals spaced apart off the roof.

Yana grabbed a backpack with the number '55' on it, and whooping at the top of her lungs, spun around to throw it as far as she could, before shifting a portal over slightly to catch it.

"Three points," she decided, leaning over to write her score in her therapy journal. "Nice. I'll take it."

...was this what Doc Sampson meant her to use the journal for? Unclear. But this was today's journal therapy anyway.

[OOC: OPEN! COME DITCH YOUR BAGGAGE!]

heroic_jawline

Steve was trying to get out the door for his classes today, truly he was. Every time he turned around, though, he was blocked by duffel bags labeled "HOWLING COMMANDOS" or neat, compact and heavy hatboxes with "PEGGY" and "SHARON" on them. The suitcases labeled "BUCKY", "BUCKY (OTHER)," and "BUCKY (OTHER OTHER)" had already been shoved against the wall with some super-strength and he honestly wasn't sure if the giant safe labeled "NEVER ENOUGH" that was blocking the elevator belonged to him or to Tony, but either way, it wasn't moving.

So he'd retreated to the kitchen and the comfort of reheated bagels from New York and ignoring the "FOOD INSECURITY" box blocking his way to the pantry.

It was gonna be a day. He could tell.

mustbeawitch

Lydia had to admit she had rather hoped the bags would not follow once they left the island, and thus had been rather excited to set out for this week's Supper Club destination. She might even have been *gasp* unfashionably early.

Unfortunately, here she was outside a ramen shop, surrounded by a pile of trunks and reticules and such with things like WICKED and VAIN and SILLY printed all over them. She didn't know why the bags were just declaring all her traits to the world, but it was rather awkward, practically speaking.

At least she was going to get to try some Japanese food that was cooked, this week. She still wasn't onboard with sushi, it seemed.

Welcome to Supper Club, everyone!

ifwebeworthy

Don woke up, rolled over to sit up on the edge of the bed, and reached for his walking stick. He raised it up, but before he could bring it back down to summon Thor, he noticed something. Several somethings, stacked against the wall: a rolling suitcase you could hide a body in with FAKE printed all over it in huge letters, a duffel bag labeled FORGOTTEN, bags with WEAK and BORING and MORTAL and even LAME.

"Okay," Don told the pile of bags. "That one's offensive." But he remembered Odin telling Thor that, that he had made Don lame to teach Thor humility, so really the offense was Odin's, which...typical. He hated how much it had stuck in his head.

They are wrong, as well, Thor said. You are not boring, or weak.

"I am fake, though. I mean, I'm real, but I'm also fake."

I say thee nay.

The corner of Don's mouth turned up. Thor had said it like that to amuse him. Then he raised the stick again. "I don't have to deal with it today anyway," he declared, and brought the stick down. Lightning struck, and washed him and his baggage out of reality just as he caught sight of one almost buried in the pile that said VOID-TOUCHED. Oof. Well...

Thor didn't even bother to look at the new pile of parcels that took its place. It would be another load of nonsense, he was sure.

(Don turning into Thor remains NFB, rest of the post is FB. Warning for mild ableism.)

Fandom High RPG

About the Game

---       Master Game Index
---       IC Community Tags
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---       Application Information
---       Existing Character Directory

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---       Fandom High School
---       Staff Lounge
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---       Fandom Town
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---       Radio News Recaps
---       Student Newspaper
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Off-Island Travel
---       FH Trips

Once Upon a Time...
---       FH Wishverse AU

Out-of-Character Comms

---       Main OOC Comm
---       Plot Development
---       OOC-but-IC Fun

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Disclaimer

Fandom High is a not-for-profit text-based game/group writing exercise, featuring fictional characters and settings from a variety of creators, used without permission but for entertainment purposes only.

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Member Posts

Selkie Cove, Early Monday Morning

IX Serendipity Place- early Monday morning

The Roof of The Weirdly Tall For The Island Aesthetic Stark Tower - Sunday Evening

A Music Venue in Brooklyn, Sunday Evening

IX Serendipity Place- Saturday morning

The Creepy and Very Confused Mansion in the Woods, Saturday Morning

Stark Tower but Small [Saturday morning]

MHA #19, Saturday Morning

MCA #1- Friday evening

A Villa in Argentina; Wednesday [06/04].

Lucier's condo above Lux, LA, Monday (shhhh, timey wimey)

Liliana's Office, Friday

Midnight Manor's Rooftop, Thursday Evening [5/29]

Steve & Tony's Apartment, Stark Tower But 50 Percent Scale, Thursday Morning

Ramen Utsuke, Baltimore, Maryland, Thursday Evening

Don & Thor's Room, Stark Towerette, Thursday Morning

Fandom High RPG

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