fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with @bathrooms

Vi had been here long enough that her hair was starting to grow out on her left and shaggy (well, shaggier) on the right, and there was no way she was getting back to sleep after the rough night she'd had. She figured she might as well take advantage of the multiple mirrors in the larger baths and access to actual, sharp scissors to clean things up a little.

So now she was standing angled between two mirrors, passing the scissors from hand to hand as she tried to trim her hair into submission. It still wasn't going to be as close and neat as Vander had always got it, but it sure beat trying to do it entirely by touch with a rapidly blunting shiv.

[Open girls' bathroom is open.]

seriesofbaddecisions

On spring break there had been a conversation, and after working out the design, it was time to actually do it. So Sabine was waiting in the girls' bathroom, setting out the supplies while she waited for Lana.

Usually there wasn't a chair in here, but then she usually wasn't doing this on someone else.

[Expecting one but open!]

hashtag_chocobro

No amount of hot water and soap and showering was going to be able to wash off the last week.

But that wasn't going to stop Prompto Argentum from trying. And it wasn't even about the fact that, no matter how hard he scrubbed, his skin remained that awful, awful shade of grey (and yes, yes, he had noticed it was all greys and blacks and whites now, only without the benefit of him also being an adorable little puppy like last time)...because it was gone, actually gone, all those spikes and horns and tail, the black and red ichor contantly flowing from his eyes, his pores, his cuts and wounds, the insanity that drove him, the desire to just hurt things and ruin them and destroy them, feeding off the fear, the terror, the pain. He was back to himself again, back to Prompto, back to who he was, not what he was supposed to have been.

He'd lost track by now how many times he'd thrown up on his staggering return to the dorms; he was surprised how he managed to still find swells of sobbing inside, just when he thought he was done, it was over, there was nothing left in him anymore. No amount of hot water or soap or showering or time was going to wash this way, but he stood there underneath the shower in the boys' bathroom on his floor until the water ran cold, and he stayed there until he started shivering, and the shivering just reminded him of transforming, the violence of all his nightmares made real, and there he was, throwing up again, finally turning off the water as he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, grabbed a towel to wrap around himself as he found a wall, slid down in, and just...sat, staring at his hands, thinking of what they'd been capable of, staring at his barcode, thinking of how that was what they were always meant to do...

Man....fuck this place.

And Prompto was just going to stay there until he figured out just what he wanted to do about this, and he wasn't sure, so he figured he was going to be there a while. Good thing there were no classes this week, right? And he figured, if he was going to be anywhere, this would be a good spot if he wanted to avoid anyone who might be looking for him. There were, what, five guys in this whole school? And while a good chunk of them were on this floor, the bathrooms were pretty quiet. And he felt he was probably safe from Nina in here, too; she was a proper lady, after all, wouldn't dare go into a boys' bathroom!

Vette, on the other hand...

...so that was why, if anyone should try, they'd find all the vents into this place properly boobytrapped.

Though Prompto personally hoped (and didn't hope, like, at all, it was complicated) that they wouldn't really have even bothered, anyway. That they wouldn't have cared. That would make this thing so much easier...

...fuck this place.

[[oh, hey, bathroom post! s'open! ]]

white_oleander

#51. If you dye your hair, pick a shade and stick to it.

Somehow, Astrid wasn't sure going back to a shade would count, especially since she wasn't sure how well she was going to pull this off. She really should ask Sabine for help again, but...asking Sabine for help going back to the expected blonde hair seemed like a failure of another sort, especially with Sabine's own proclivities for more exciting tresses. But disappointment from Sabine she could handle; as much as she liked her, Sabine was just some girl she shared a room and some paints with. Sabine wasn't the complete fiery burning center of Astrid's whole universe. Ingrid was, and if Ingrid hated the red hair...the red hair had to go.

Even if the whole point of the red hair had been because Ingrid would hate it.

But a lot had happened since then, a lot of nothing, and then, boom, all off a sudden, so much, all at once, and waking up that morning back to normal was the last thing to push her toward the thing she'd been debating all week. She got through work, finally picking a few boxes, and then decided to take over the quiet bathrooms for the night to get to work. She just hoped it turned out okay, that she didn't mess it up, but she supposed there always was the possibility of just shaving it all off, and then it would all grow back again more to her mother's satisfaction.

"Ugh."

Two seconds after opening the bottle of hair bleach, Astrid felt at least a little regret. She could just let this all grow out, but, no, that would take forever, and that was just too long to risk.

[[oh hey look a bathroom post. and it's open! for, uhhh, all your bathroom needs?]]

thewrathofkaan

At 11:22 AM, anyone in or around the boys' bathroom on the fifth floor might potentially hear a really lovely rendition of The Carpenters' "Close To You" being crooned out in the shower by a perfectly content Roscoe Kaan.

By 11:25, Roscoe was out of the shower and his disposition was changing rapidly since, as it turns out, all his clothes were missing from the hook where he'd stored them. And so was his towel.

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me," he swore. This had to be hazing, right? If it was hazing, it was pretty unoriginal.

Fortunately, Roscoe wasn't self-conscious about nudity. He swiped his toiletries from the shower, used a paper towel from the sink to dry his face off, and paraded out of the bathroom into his room.

Not running. Not even walking quickly. He figured whoever had taken his stuff was waiting for a show and he was perfectly fine with delivering.

[[some SP likely as I'm heading to a museum but open!]]

rebelseekspizza

So the whole dating thing yesterday had been pretty great. But at some point in the past twelve hours Dante had stumbled into a bathroom, eyed the mirror, and realized the hair at the sides of his head was growing long enough again that his haircut might start to approach something people would find remotely acceptable, and that just wouldn't do. Now that he had a couple of hours to himself, he was gonna go do something about that.

He eyed himself critically in the mirror. Not for the first time in his life, he wondered if he could get away with cutting the words 'fuck you' into his hair, but... nope. He wasn't that good with hair clippers. Maybe some day, though. Live the dream.

He turned the damn clippers on, set them to a reasonably close shave (but not too close. Half-bald was a bad look) and got to work trimming the hair at the sides of his head, leaving a thick strip in the middle. He spent the whole time humming something loud, tuneless and aggressive under his breath.

[[ open! ]]

rebelseekspizza

It wasn't the first time he woke up like this: mind and body ready for a fight, adrenaline screaming through his veins, only to find there was absolutely nothing to fight. New place, new rules, Dante just didn't know them yet so he couldn't break them yet. Sure. Still, there was something eerie about it. Weird.

Getting out of bed to walk down to the bathrooms was the closest thing to polite he'd been to a roommate for a while, but the bathroom was clean, which just made the eerie worse. So now he was hovering over the sink and staring at himself in the mirror. Willing himself to calm down. Maybe if he wasn't new here, he'd have broken out, found some club or something. But he didn't know where anything was, and he didn't want to ruin a shot at a decent place to sleep and regular meals, for as long as it lasted.

He still wanted - needed - to punch something.

"Fuck you," he told his reflection.

Nothing happened.

[[ open, sure. ]]

not_every_mage

After he visited Alluka, Anders had gone back to his room to tidy as a way to stop him from thinking so bloody much. And, at the bottom of a pile of papers dating back to the summer before, he found the heavy gold earring he hadn't worn in ... it had to have been at least since before the spring cruise. Maybe longer.

And when he went to put the thing back in, he found his earlobe had sealed clean over. It was almost as if the hole had never been there at all.

Having a nice hoop earring and no pierced ear to wear it in was a sad state of affairs, wasn't it? Clearly it had to be remedied. The first time he'd pierced it, an older girl in the Circle dorms held the needle. This time ... he didn't know who to ask. He suspected his friends would tell him to go get it done in some shop, which seemed vaguely excessive. So he took the supplies as he remembered them -- rubbing alcohol, needle, and block of ice -- to the boys' restroom and set up to quickly put a new hole in his head.

He had forgotten that the first time he'd had it done, they'd used whiskey instead of rubbing alcohol, and he'd been fortified by three or four generous pours before the needle touched his flesh. This time, he was sober as a stone. Anyone walking past the boys' bathroom tonight would get quite the education in rude comments that could be made about the Bride of the Maker, her underthings, and her personal proclivities.

[OOC: IDEK, man. I thought of this and it made me giggle so I posted it. Open, though.]

stacyexperiment

So. Last night had happened. And it sucked that after all the dirty stuff, today was just as bad all over again. Rather than put up with it this early, Gwen grabbed her stuff and headed to the bathroom for a nice, chilly shower.

And horrifically it was putting "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Out Of My Hair" in her head, and ew, no.

[How have we not had a cold shower bathroom post yet? Open!]

tigerundercover

The trouble with going around everywhere shapeshifted into having clothes was that you tended to get a little grimy, leading to more showers than your average teenage girl tended to go for. So it was that she ended up spending her Saturday evening steaming up the bathroom. Hey, she didn't really get cold, but that didn't mean her muscles didn't love a good blast of hot water now and then.

She shifted out of habit as she stepped out, and seeing no one else in the bathroom just yet, took her time looking over her usual disguise in the mirror, trying to decide if she wanted to make any adjustments. Maybe add a mole or a birthmark somewhere? Normal people didn't have perfectly clear skin all over, after all. She fluffed her blonde hair a little, making a pouty face at the mirror, then reached up to wipe a little more steam from the surface.

"I wish I could just look like this all the time."

She let out a sigh and relaxed.

Nothing happened.

She was still blonde.

"Oh my god." She grinned at her reflection, rubbing her arms (so smooth!) and waggled her blonde eyebrows at herself. "Oh my god, I'm normal!" She bounced on her toes -- then froze and frowned. "Wait." She tried to shift to her big beefy man look. Nothing happened. She tried to change her hair to brown. Nothing happened.

"Oh my god," she said again, eyes going wide in the mirror. "Oh god, I'm normal." She tugged her too small towel around herself and looked down at it. "Oh god. I don't have any clothes."

She peered out of the bathroom. Her room wasn't that far. She could make it without traumatizing anyone too much, right?

[ooc: yeah, she'll work out the whole "four more wishes" thing eventually. In the meantime, naked blonde Raven trying to sneak through the third floor!]

theheadkid.livejournal.com

Travis had been mess After class, he was covered in cake, pudding and shaving cream and really just not happy with the world. He'd trudged back to the dorms, up to his room and grabbed some clean clothes before stumbling his way into the bathroom.

And then he took a shower. A long one. He wanted the pudding out of his hair, the shaving cream out from underneath his fingernails and the mud gone from behind his ears.

Of course, as it would happen, this would be the time when a sneaky little gremlin came into the bathroom, nearly getting lost in the steam that was filling up the bathroom. He couldn't even see the student who'd gone into the bathroom. He'd wanted to try for a bite but instead, he just grabbed Travis's clothes, the nearest towel (leaving only a small wash cloth behind) and took off. If he couldn't bite someone, he was going to do the next best thing to screw the student over.

Travis enjoyed his shower for a little while longer before he turned off the water, went to reach for a towel and came back with the wash cloth.

"Uh." Cautiously, he peered outside to see if maybe the towel had been moved. The towel had definitely been moved. So had his clothes. There was nothing left but the wash cloth he was holding and the steam. "Well. Shoot."

This was going to be a challenge. He edged closer to the door and opened it up, letting some steam out. "Anyone out there?" If someone answered, he could ask for help. If no one answered, he was going to make a run for it.

[Open, ofc. You can catch him still in the bathroom or running and trying to cover himself with a wash cloth. Class today afforded a perfect opportunity for this.]

Current Mood: pensive

dollpocalypse

There was a distinct smell of strawberries coming from the bathroom. It was Jessica Drew's fault.

See, a conversation yesterday had left Topher thinking that Jessica was some kind of hair care expert, and so her expert advice about using only fruit-scented hair care products had seemed rather important to him. For some reason. He didn't even wash his hair that often.

So Topher would just be here in the shower, humming the Galaxy Quest theme to himself as he lathered his hair with strawberry shampoo. As you do, or something.

It actually smelled pretty good, honestly.

[[open!]]

toomuchmoop.livejournal.com

Since the technology was actually fairly simple compared to some of the things Danny usually cobbled together, it hadn't taken him long to finish his work, and so now it was time to actually hook the thing up. He had no idea whether these sorts of modifications were allowed, but would he really want to exist in a world where such luxuries weren't considered inalienable rights? No way! So, with a toolbox, a ladder, and a network of wires connecting a control panel to a projector dome, he set out to the bathroom to get everything hooked up that afternoon.

In a few short hours, the holo-john would be hooked up, and he could finally use the bathroom like any civilized person in the comfort of a wacky holographic scenario to suit his mood.

[[ that's right. After today, the boys' bathroom on the third floor is now a Holo-John, meaning it has holographic capabilities, just like the Danger Shop. The controls are essentially the same; there will be a little panel to set up a sim outside the door, and, when not in use, it's pretty much just a regular bathroom, so it can still be used like that, too. Mega thanks to the assmins for allowing me to exploit this beautiful little bit of my canon into the game!

Post is definitely open!]]

toomuchmoop.livejournal.com

Late Sunday morning, waking up from a pretty good sleep where he really hoped his didn't snore so much as to disturb his roommate, Danny shuffled out into the hallway in search of the facilities. Part of his brain was going on auto-pilot, thinking he was still in the Invisible Hideout rather than his new school dormitory, but he found his way to the bathroom and struggled a little bit with the door. In his half-sleepy state, he stumble around, murmuring a little to himself as he felt for the controls.

"Computer," he muttered, "load Planet Zorkip Princess Rescue, Danny Program Four." He jabbed around at some places, frowning as he slowly realized this wasn't the Invisible Hideout and there wasn't a computer. Slowly, he was waking up to a horrible, horrible realization.

"Computer?" he asked again, and then he realized that no where in the bathroom was there a control panel. True, he knew that going back to the twenty-first century would mean having to sacrifice certain technological luxuries, but this...this was...this was...barbaric.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he said, to the computer-less walls around him. "There's no holo-john?"

Oh, man. This high school thing suuuuuucks.

[[ I'm on hecka slow play today, but it had to be done! Totally open if you don't mind the slow! ]]

craftyladyparts.livejournal.com

With the way things were going recently, Jessica just needed a change. Maybe something small. Well, not small. She had a lot of hair. But changing her hair was less permanent than a tattoo (which, actually, also sounded like an idea), so she was just going for it. She called her local hair color specialist and decided to dive headlong into blondeness, because that was something that no spider-person had dared to try before. As far as she knew.

Anyway, she bought the hair dye, went to her floor's girls bathroom, and set up shop while she waited for Gert.

[OOC: Specifically here for Gert, but open to anyone in need of this floor's ladies room.]

mummyspromdate.livejournal.com

So. This was still. going. on.

Call Maddie naive, but she'd thought that letting a de-aged trickster god swipe her V-card might have alleviated some of the, um, problems she was having. Apparently not! Apparently she was stuck with this feeling till it went away for everyone and that was stupid. God.

This wasn't even her first cold (okay, very cool) shower of the day, and while she knew it was probably killing the environment, it made her feel better at least for a little while. Not dirty, by the way, amazingly.

[Open for all your cold shower needs. YOU KNOW YOU HAVE THEM.]

mummyspromdate.livejournal.com

Maddie had ~~finally been able to upload icons~~ woken up late. It was one of the cool things about being here, getting to sleep in however late you wanted without having anywhere to be most days and she was planning to take advantage of that as much as possible.

Eyes still blurry with sleep, she got all the way to the sink to brush her teeth, looked in the mirror... paused... touched her face and saw that yes, it totally seemed to be her face...

Forgive the "AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" from inside the bathroom, everyone. It was her first time.

[Open!]

annieadderall.livejournal.com

There should not be anything strange about showering. That's like a rule. Unless you discover a lump that's not supposed to be there or find someone peeping in through your window, it's kind of a simple thing that shouldn't really require wtfing.

Yet halfway through Annie's shower, thankfully after she'd rinsed the shampoo from her hair, she thought she'd heard a noise outside, so she poked her head out from the curtain...And found a can of split pea and ham soup sitting in the middle of the floor where it hadn't been before. Just sitting there. As cans of soup do.

Annie stared at it.

It would have stared back if it had eyes.

Annie closed the curtain again. A moment later, the water turned off, and she pulled the towel around her before even opening the curtain again, half hoping the can would be gone.

It wasn't.

Still in complete silence, Annie tried to sneak past the completely motionless can of soup... and then nudged it with her foot, just to make sure it was really there. It was. It even moved.

Right then. Annie was just going to get dressed super quickly and flee before the soup, you know. Did anything.

[This is all

dollpocalypse's fault. Annie's fled, but if you want to wtf at the soup sitting in the middle of the showers, go for it.]

chief-cheerio.livejournal.com

After the brunch, Quinn had taken a page she'd torn out of Cosmo to Theodoric's of York, handed it to a stylist, and watched in satisfaction as the long hair fell away from her face. It was therapeutic; she looked like an adult now, not like some little girl who'd spent all weekend halfway waiting for Mommy and Daddy to show up.

And now she was standing in front of the girls' room mirror, tub in gloved hand. It would wash out soon, but was she really daring enough to streak her hair with pink, even for a week or so? It was just -- she needed something to distract her from the fact she didn't really have a family anymore. Hair worked. She was 17; there was practically a law mandating she have pink hair at some point.

She drew a deep breath and started dabbing the dye into the front part of her hair.

[OOC: Open bathroom post. ]

Current Mood: artistic

life_inshadow

The powers that be had decided to recast Tara to attract a younger, edgier demographic. The problem was the producers also believed that younger, edgier demographic had the intelligence of soup, and so they'd cast a model who was trying very very hard to act ... and not doing a very good job of it.

Not that backstage silliness was Tara's main concern tonight. Instead, she was standing in front of the girl's bathroom mirror, staring and staring and staring at a plus sign on a little plastic stick.

"Oh no," she said flatly. "It can't be."

[OOC: So open, yes. Tara is now being played by Allison Harvard.]

hoorayimrich.livejournal.com

It seemed that today was an odd day for the bathrooms in the dorms. Not that Tony knew that, of course. What he knew was that there was a random sheet of butcher paper on the wall next to the sinks.

It was hard to miss, really.

And it was tempting to draw on. So, so tempting. No one would care if he doodled a little something on it, right?

[[Like the girls could be the only ones... OPEN FOR DEFACING!]]

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Annie had gone into the bathroom to try and wash some of the seemingly omnipresent glitter off her hands, and it was then that she noticed the sheet of white butcher block paper taped to one of the walls. After drying her hands and checking to make sure it wasn't covering up any of her fliers (it wasn't), she regarded it for a second, wondering what it was there for and who put it there.

Then she shrugged, reached into her purse, and wrote Vote for Annie!! with a heart next to it. You really shouldn't expect anything less from her.

[I HAD TO. You know what to do. Annie can be in there if you want to talk to her, or you can mod her out.]

lockestheway

"Go fish."

This was not, Peter reflected, the most dignified position he had ever wound up in in his life: sitting on the floor of the boys' bathroom surrounded by improvised killing implements, playing cards with a sixteen-year-old kleptomaniac liar while monsters reigned both in and outside of the dorms.

Karla could go suck it, though.

Technically, they'd been locked in Peter's room for a while prior to this, but that was a plan that had run into a few technical snags -- namely the lack of presence of, y'know, a toilet. So now they'd been here for a few hours. It smelled. It was disgusting. Peter kind of wanted to die.

Valentine was never hearing about this. Ever.

[[ open to anyone who might be venturing near the bathroom at this hour ]]

nohaircutsplz

It was Saturday. That meant it was time for Medusa to wash her hair.

All six feet of it.

It didn't need washing as often as a human's, thank Agon, but once a week or so she had to go through the whole routine. And thanks to the Council's 'Pretend you're human!' brainwave, this took her considerably more time these days than it did under normal circumstances, as her hair couldn't actually assist. Especially in a common bathroom, which she had to use because, well, the little ones off the dorm rooms didn't quite accommodate six feet of wet prehensile hair to her liking. The hairdryer was her new very favorite labor-saving device, by far the best thing the humans had ever invented (even though the heat was doing questionable things to her precious hair) but she'd burned out four of the things since coming to the island.

At least she didn't have to worry about tangles.

So, yes: princess, standing in the middle of the bathroom in her underwear, methodically toweling off, then blow-drying, then combing out six feet of wet hair while trying to keep it from touching the floor with one hand, since she couldn't use the 'it's got body and wave' excuse when it was wet. And that was after she used up all the hot water washing it. The last five minutes of her shower were under cold water, in fact, so she wasn't exactly inclined to be in a good mood.

((Soooooo very open.))

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Bruce lived on the fifth floor. This was only the second. Bruce didn't care. It was the nearest set of showers for him to wash off the stink of sweat, filth, human blood (mostly not his), and grenade launcher exhaust. It had been a long weekend. Residents of the second floor were just going to have to deal with his trespassing.

And his humming. The damn Flower Waltz was stuck in his head after that last fight and it just wouldn't leave.

[OOC: It seems like a lot of people in the lobby were talking about showers, so why not. Come to the showers, wash up, and discuss what exactly that horrifying goop in your hair is! And try not to make out too much, I suppose.]

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

Overnight, pieces of butcher block paper with Things Every Girl at Fandom Should Know and Things Every Guy at Fandom Should Know written across the top had appeared inside every boys and girls room on every single floor of the dorms. Who put them there? Well, that'd remain a mystery for now.

Several pens and markers lay nearby the pieces of paper, giving everyone the means to mark up all that pristine paper. Got something to say? Got something you wanna tell people? Got a secret you wanna confess?

Just write it down!

[c'mon, i know some of you remember these! if you don't, check it out here and here. feel free to write whatever you'd like down! feel free to also talk to each other, react, tease, and/or sneak into the other bathroom (though be prepared for a smackdown).]

Current Mood: chipper

officetightass

Angela wasn't blind. Or deaf. (To radio. Get your minds out of the gutter.) She recognized that when you were in a school with no parental supervision, people were going to be a little... looser than they normally would. That was a nice way of saying she thought most people in Fandom were probably hos. And then when yesterday's assembly went ahead and encouraged that kind of behavior, she thought it was about time to teach a little something about responsibility that the lecture hadn't.

So there'd been a trip to the mainland- because she was not getting caught buying these by squirrels- and then a trip to each of the girls' bathrooms to deliver a present of sorts. By the time she was done, every bathroom was prominently displaying a bulk pack of pregnancy test strips on the counter. She fully expected they'd all get used in a terrifyingly short amount of time.

At least she hadn't put them in the boys' bathrooms, too. Yet.

[I MIGHT'VE HAD THAT LINK BOOKMARKED FOR WEEKS LOOKING FOR A GOOD OPPORTUNITY. Tell me it's not awesome how they're marked like 75% off. Feel free to react, and Angela's catchable if you're up for some hardcore SP.]

living_endless

For the most part, Didi liked being mortal. She loved food, she enjoyed sleep, and if there were things that were a little less enjoyable, the good parts of her life made up for it.

Then she woke up with a raging headache and a grinding cramp in her lower stomach. A few minutes later, she was in the girls' room, resting the back of her head against the cool tile as she tried to decode the instruction sheet from a box of tampons. It shouldn't have seemed nearly as complicated as it did, but, then, Didi had never exactly had to deal with this first-hand.

As soon as she'd sorted it all out, Didi vowed, she was going to eat her weight in Doritos. That might be enough to let her be her usual philosophical self about this.

[OOC: Open to girls and very brave boys who don't mind screeching. Squirrels, uh ... be discreet?]

first-guardian.livejournal.com

Ichigo had said his goodbyes to Rukia after their short conversation while she healed his injuries. What she'd told him preoccupied him enough that it wasn't until he returned to the dorms that he remembered exactly where they'd left his body.

Going inside the restrooms wasn't so much the problem. He was in shinigami form and the most anyone would see was the door opening and closing for nothing. It was getting out that would be harder. Ichigo wasn't sure why he was tiptoeing inside. He headed straight for the stall which luckily was still locked and crawled over it.

His injuries were mild enough, only bruises and a mostly healed cut over his eye, so it didn't hurt too badly to move back inside his body. What would hurt was getting caught and Ichigo listened carefully before he unlocked the stall's door. The faster he moved, the less chance he got caught.

[[Open if anyone does want to catch him.]]

Current Mood: nervous

thatsamilkshake

Francine? Was never, ever leaving the shower. Ever. She could bypass prune and turn straight into a raisin for all she cared. They'd have to hold finals in the bathroom and let her write it in waterproof marker. They might even have to hold graduation in the bathroom. Next year.

The only problem she could foresee was food and the fact that she was running out of shampoo.

[OOC: With all the handwavey ones, there might as well be a real shower post. Open to any girls who want to wash off the grime of fighting or zombification, or just bitch about same!]

Current Mood: dirty

wantstodirect

Tony didn't want to redo the bandages around his ribs but he didn't want to spend any longer with zombie guck in his hair, either. A pre-clinic wipedown had gotten the worst of it off, but there was plenty of second-worst to go around.

He covered his bandages with a messy (but effective) wrap of duct tape and plastic wrap and shuffled into the showers. He was probably going to be in here for a while.

[Open! Boys need showers, too.]

not-a-mused.livejournal.com

Cal figured he could have just called it good and gotten up to shower at fuck-early-o'clock to avoid this whole problem, but he was struck with a sudden stubborn streak to at least have one common room to himself as usual. It was a very important thing for a guy trying to hide the fact that he was part-girl, after all. The fourth floor was over crowded, the third floor contained Chuck Bass, and, apparently, the fifth floor had broken shower heads.

So that was why Cal was now heading into the second floor and thinking that, if this didn't work, then it was clearly a Fandom thing. Clearly. Stupid Fandom.

[[ I HAD TO. Just as open as the last one, tooooo, of course ]]

not-a-mused.livejournal.com

All Cal wanted was a place where he could shower without having to be insanely self-conscious (despite the fact that who would even look?) and be able to pee sitting down in peace. It wasn't too much to ask, one would think, but it seemed like it was too much to expect, as his usual bathroom was veritably all full up.

And so Cal relocated down a floor, peeked in, saw that it was so far, so good, and wished that you could just lock the doors.

[[ Cal is seeking privacy, so of course I had to do this and make the post is wide, wide open! ]]

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

With a towel over one shoulder, Hannibal had disappeared into the bathroom about an hour ago. The hot shower had taken up most of that time but now he was out, clad in only his jeans, and standing in front of one of the mirrors, doing what guys do when their in the bathroom.

Checking themselves out, of course. It was a time honored secret tradition amongst men. They might not act it but they all wanted to look good. Had to look good out of clothes to really think you look good in them. Or something.

For Hannibal, that mostly meant deciding if he needed a shave or not. He'd decided no and then moved on to wondering if he needed a haircut. The wet hair didn't really help that decision since it wasn't doing its normal 'stick up where it pleases' schtick that he'd gotten so used to.

"Maybe I could just do it myself," he said to no one, ruffling his hair and not realizing how bad an idea that truly would be.

[Open to boys (and boys from other floors are so welcome)...and girls! Like any of the boys care if the girls wanna sneak in! This was partly due to me wanting

rocksthescarf to make a post where Chuck shaved his chest hair (I used her favorite icon in honor of that) and wanting to see how many shirtless icons I could get in one place. Mondays do things to my brain.]

Current Mood: artistic

lovemykilt

When Priestly had sat up in bed this morning, his pillow had come with him.

His extremely multicolored pillow. Stuck to his still moderately glue-, marker-, coke-, and gel-filled hair. And he had magic marker smears all over his arms, neck, chest, and face. And bits of dried chocolate ice cream stuck in his goatee.

So he was spending rather a long time in the shower, this morning. Possibly using up all the hot water in the entire dorm. And more than his fair share of shampoo.

Stupid Fandom. Stupid Merlin pouring coke on him. Stupid Arthur for, well, everything.

Stupid four year old him and his lack of hygiene.

[ooc: most for establishing purposes, but it is, of course, a public bathroom. Well, for the boys, anyway.]

thatsamilkshake

By the time Francine finally found her way back to the big place with the beds, she was really really messy. Maraschino cherries and falling into several mud puddles accidentally on purpose can have that effect. And messy meant bathtime! And no Mommy around for baths meant she could do it all by herself like a big girl. Chuck said so too, and he was a grownup kinda.

Which was why Francine and her duckie and a towel were in the bathroom, and the water was running in the bathtub at the end of the long row of showers. "You stay there, bubber duckie," she said, putting him in the water to bob while she looked around for more bubbles. Yes, more. She'd already dumped somebody's entire bottle of strawberry shampoo into the water, but more bubbles were always better.

So was turning off the water before it ran over the sides of the tub and the bubbles took over the bathroom floor. Pity nobody ever taught her that in Big Girl Bathtime Class.

Then again, sliding barefooted (and, well, bare everythinged) across the tiles through the rapidly rising bubbles was fun too!

[Open! To GIRLS, naturally. Or, you know, extremely adventurous boys.]

Current Mood: bouncy

minnesota-teen.livejournal.com

Liir had agreed to wash Amber's clothes for her, or what she had left of her clothes (stupid machines), so that is what they were going to do. It was just too cute how he carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom. Amber was loathe to be put down, but she was carrying her small bag of clothes, while he carried her, so she assumed the weight could be stressing.

Laughing, he gently placed her on her feet and she was almost tempted to lock the door so she could have fun in the tub with him. But... not yet.

"So. I hope you won't mind looking at my panties," she said, lacking the modesty to not say what she was thinking.

[OOC: For Liir, who was modded with permission. But it's a bathroom, so can be open to others!]

bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com

Merlin was being a proper servant today and scrubbing Arthur's clothing in the sink. Because the cleaning machines weren't working and someone didn't trust them with his clothing.

This did not make for a terribly happy Merlin.

Although, at least that meant they both had clothing to wear this week...

[[OOC: Open like... a bathroom]]

my-tragic-past.livejournal.com

Kevin closed the stall door behind him, thinking it best to have some privacy in case the object in the brown package he had received was really naughty and he needed to try it out immediately.

What fell out of the package and clattered to the floor was the last thing he had expected: a really gaudy but insanely expensive looking bracelet. There was also a slip of paper with some writing on it, but that didn't seem really important at the moment.

Kevin picked up the bracelet and examined it closely. It was gold and covered with sparkly things, the largest being a ruby set in metalwork resembling a sun. He shrugged and tried it on.

Then he was gone; vanished in a sudden poof of shimmery magical stuff that one might expect when someone mystically disappears.

The note simply read: Kevin - Put this on and come back to me. You are mine. - A

[ooc: NFI. Kevin is now gone from Fandom; whisked back to Dante's Cove to be an unwilling sex slave to Ambrosius. Thanks for humoring me while he was here! It's been fun.]

death-of-hope.livejournal.com

It was an hour when most sane residents of Fandom were asleep. Even the insane ones were probably sleepily tucked away somewhere.

Two of its inhabitants, however, were sneaking into the bathrooms and filling the shower-heads with glitterized tinsel. No shower went untouched, and they'd be back periodically throughout the day to add more glitter to the pipes.

It was spreading the holiday cheer. Really. Fandom-style.

[OOC: Co-conspirator modded with permissions. Establishy, but feel free to post your reactions here! If you do not wish to have a sparkly day, feel free to mod that they didn't put the shower-head back on right or something like that.

Identity of pranksters is NFB atm, but smart people can probably figure it out from last night's radio. :)]

Current Mood: mischievous

ashockingbitch

Jenny had eventually dragged herself up from her most recent hangover and staggered to the restroom, intent on brushing her teeth to rid her mouth of the taste of old cigarettes and gin, aka 'death.'

Then she had discovered the tap was running with caramel hot cocoa.

Anyone entering the girls' room would find Jenny Sparks attempting to fit her entire head in the sink.

((Open! To, you know, girls. And guys who don't mind getting screamed at, I suppose...))

laidanegg.livejournal.com

Richard J. Grayson, Esq woke up in the shower. "It was all just a dream," he said, remembering his fictional silly bout with amnesia and a nap in a church that clearly never happened. What kind of schmuck was named 'DJ' anyway? Not THIS kind of schmuck. Richard was a schmuck with money who all the women wanted and all the men wanted to be (and possibly wanted as well because he really was that hot). If only he didn't have that mysterious past that he could never reveal to ANYONE unless it was during November or February or May...

But none of that mattered right now, because he was showering. Oh yeah.

[OOC: As far as Dick is concerned, nothing before waking up in the shower happened. Also, post is open.]

new-to-liirness.livejournal.com

He had put this off too long.

He had been positively slovenly in his disregard for this task.

...he was down to his last pair of wearable pants.

As such, Liir was headed for the bathrooms to get his laundry done, wincing faintly at the load he had in his arms. It was unfortunately one of two, and there was actually enough where he was quite sure he'd have to buy a new bar of soap soon. Perhaps he could have used the washing machines, but they were too tik-tokish for him to consider them seriously.

[open!]

decoder-rings.livejournal.com

It wasn't Hannibal's idea of fun to be carrying a stupid plush dragon like he was five years old and needed to cuddle it for comfort or something.

He was just...feeling a little guilty about realizing WHO the plushie was after way too long after having thrown it in the air during one of his boredom fits.

Now, he was carrying the damn thing down the hall with him, stopping right in front of the bathroom door to glare at the damn stuffed thing.

"It's really bad for my reputation to be carrying your plush ass around," he groused, glaring at the stuffed plushie.

[Hannibal's thread is locked to one TOTAL BFF and one other person. But, uh, if you really wanna wander by, you can. He's just not going to be able to answer you.]

Current Mood: aggravated

minnesota-teen.livejournal.com

"This is gettin' ridiculous," she stated, her Minnesota drawl thick. "I'm tired of you bein' a hyena and I'm tired of you rollin' around in the dirt despite the stupid fog. You're havin' a bath whether you like it or not," she declared with a finger point at Cal.

He growled but Amber knew he didn't mean it. He's growled at her a lot. Fickled hyenas were just a pain and why couldn't he be himself again already?

"Look. The tub is ready and it's warm and everythin'. You just have to help me get you in there. You kinda got a fat ass, Cal," she teased although seriously, he was rather heavy.

"Come on..." she said and tried to lift him up over the side. "Come..." grunt grunt "...on!"

But Cal totally didn't think he needed a bath so paws to the edge of the tub, he held strong. "COME ON!" she yelled, giving one last shove that threw them both over the rim into the tub, Amber head first. "Aaaaaaaaa!" she screamed and sputtered and spit out water when she came up.

Cal was standing leg deep, staring at her.

Amber screamed again in pure frustration.

[Establishy mainly but you can wonder what the hell if you're passing by.]

cheminthehead.livejournal.com

Gladys was in the bathroom with the door shut. It was her Holy Day, but after last night's performance, she had make up to remove before she went off to Be A Golem.

When you were made of clay, make up removal wasn't as simple as it sounded. She was using steel wool, and she was scrubbing hard.

As befitted a bathroom, the door was closed.

[ooc: Open if anyone wants to stumble over her beforehand, but definitely for the Laaand Shaaaark.]

sarcasm-guy.livejournal.com

That sound coming from the bathroom? Would be snoring. And a shower on full blast. But the snoring was louder.

Sokka was in there, somewhere amidst the clouds of rum-steam, passed out naked on the floor. He had been in a puddle of his own vomit, but the hot rum spraying out full-blast had washed it away.

[So very open!]

missed-the-gate.livejournal.com

John met Dawn in the bathroom as discussed where he'd already set up the bleach and green kool-aid along with his step-stool right by the sinks.

Uncapping the bleach, John winced at the aroma.

"Okay, so we probably should've gotten drunk for this to make it really fair, but we can work around that."

[Open for that girl and whoever else belongs there.]

Current Mood: rushed

missed-the-gate.livejournal.com

There really was nothing like waking up with your face pressed against cold tile floor.

And then seeing clippings of your own hair coating the floor around you.

John sat up quickly, and then groaned because ow, that made his head throb. He rubbed his hand on his head, remembering Dawn and the haircut.

This might be worse than the Nightmares.

[~~open if you have reason to be there~~ He's gone!]

Current Mood: morose

sixstandingby.livejournal.com

Gavin's shower wasn't draining. At all. And he couldn't very well go without a shower, not with hair like his (and he'd never admit to that being a girly statement), so he'd grabbed a towel, some shorts and scampered down the the communal bathrooms.

He'd had experience with these back home but never here and he almost expected a gremlin to pop out, bite him and turn him into a curly haired exercise guru.

When no gremlins appeared, Gavin disrobed and turned on the shower spray, enjoying the hot water and the quiet.

[Gavin's here for one person specifically but this is open, of coursssssse.]

Current Mood: annoyed

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