Fandom High Dormitories

". . . and that's how you GET TO LLAMA SCHOOL!"

*beep beep*

". . . and that's how you GET TO LLAMA SCHOOL!"

Yes, Archie was playing with his phone again. And he already had far too many gratuitous pictures of the campsite on it. Really, he ought to have been working on his photography assignment, but he was done with workshops until Monday and anyway, the camera didn't play the llama school song. This was more fun.

Luckily, he wasn't so distracted by the phone that the bacon and eggs he had going in a pan over the fire were going to burn. But he'd probably drive anyone within earshot insane with that ringtone if nobody stopped him.

[OOC: Open, verily. He'll totally share food.]

Even on his best days, Archie found his clockwork workshop challenging. There was simply no way he would be up to the challenge today, though, not in this frame of mind. Being in his room didn't seem like an appealing option, either.

So, tired and haggard-looking, he took his latest ship model -- he'd gotten a bit ambitious and was recreating "Lucky" Jack Aubrey's HMS Victory on a small scale -- and camped out in the first floor lobby to work on it. People passed through here all the time; perhaps the coming and going would keep Simpson's apparition away.

( He would be sorely disappointed in that regard, though. )

Hands shaking worse than before, Archie picked up the next piece of carved railing and his bottle of glue and set to it, his face flushed and sweat pouring down his forehead. Every noise, however minuscule, seemed to make him jump, and his eyes, when they weren't darting around the room, frequently lost focus. But he was too petrified to move.

[OOC: As established in plot guidelines, unless you are canonically able to do so you will not be able to see Simpson sitting in the chair. The post is open, though, for those curious about one very jumpy and terrified sailor, or for your general lobby use.]

Archie doesn't feel like walking down to the park today, but he does want to play with his toy boats. He's spent most of the day sitting out in the grass in front of the dorms with a spade and a bucket, carefully digging himself a little pond.

Pond digging, as he's come to discover, is hard work, and only after four hours of very concentrated work has he managed to get the pond to be about four inches deep and three feet around. But an empty pond isn't any good, so he's been toddling back and forth with his bucket, trying to fill it. The faucet took some work to figure out, and the bucket is rather large for him, so half the water has ended up all over his clothes.

There is one not-so-minor problem as well. No matter how much water Archie pours into his little boat pond, it just keeps draining out into the soil. And now he's tired, wet, and slightly muddy, not to mention becoming quite cranky as well. The remote-control sailboat and little wooden yacht are lying right here on the grass, and he just wants to play with them, but he can't!

He plunks down by the edge of the would-be pond and puts his chin in his hands, deep in thought as to how to solve this little dilemma.

[OOC: For certain events that will be taking place, but feel free to come by and ask what he's doing.]

Not having had any classes today, Archie has spent most of it . . . well, in his room as usual. He does, however, have the Tick's Advanced Criminal Justice course first thing in the morning, and he's determined to do better than he did last term.

So he's sitting in the lobby going over his notes from last term, a large carafe of coffee and a plate of *fingerwiggle* buttery crumpets muffins on hand. He'd be willing to share with anyone who happens to wander by, of course.