fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with claudia donovan

It was Claudia's last night in Fandom.

She wasn't going on to do anything really Earth shattering. Tomorrow she'd be catching her regular portal to South Dakota and going to the Warehouse, like she did most Fridays, anyway.

She just wasn't coming back.

But that was tomorrow. And tomorrow was an eternity away. So she sat up on the roof, her feet dangling off over the edge, and stared out over Fandom. Even if she came back some day, she was never going to get this view again. Because tonight was her last night.

She was just going to South Dakota. She'd done way weirder things, and gone to way more dangerous places.

So why the hell was she so terrified?

[ooc: probably Claudia's last post as a student before swapping to alum status. Fridays are busy for me at work, so I may not have time to put her anywhere.

So, you know, open.]

childhood-taunt.livejournal.com

Matt had "gone out" for the evening. For some that meant a night on the town. For Matt, it meant leaping from rooftop to rooftop in the warehouse district. Unfortunately when he got back to room he found it somewhat... busy

So Matt has been exiled to the common room for the evening listening to ESPN while he attempted to make himself a bowl of cereal.

Damn you, Rebecca.

[Open like an open CR. Which is open. Or something.]

notmyownage

"HELLO!" Claudia greeted her non-existent internet audience. "Today on my drunk kitchen, we're going to make . . . meatballs." She nodded seriously, pouring herself a finger of apple cider.

It was nonalcoholic cider, but she wasn't about to let that stop her.

"The firsht thing you need to know about makin' meatballs is that they're made of meat." She nodded firmly, gesturing with her glass of cider. "The second thing is . . . what was . . . they're ball-shaped. I conshidered making salad, but thass not -- it doesn't take any kitcheninginginging. Ing."

Oh, this would go well.

[ooc: Open! Starring Claudia as Hannah Hart of My Drunk Kitchen fame. Only sans icon because I didn't think of this until after I got to work. Come watch her antics! And maybe keep her from burning anything down!]

zetabetabrat.livejournal.com

So over the past two weeks on the island, Rebecca hadn't really done very much. Did some work for her classes, rearranged the furniture in her room and taken over part of Matt's closet... normal fun stuff. But she'd come to the conclusion that it was time to start networking with people. Forming alliances, as it were.

Or making friends, as normal, non-Rebecca Logan people might put it. Really, she was in it for the allies and networks.

So after placing a few quick calls, she managed to get some fairly fancy Italian food delivered to the third floor common room. There was more than enough to share with... probably half the student body. That should be a step in the right direction, she decided.

Plus, her top showed a lot of cleavage. So.

showmetheproof.livejournal.com

After witnessing an giant squid sing, and hearing snatches of song around the town, Scully was fairly certain oddness was happening again today. So she was avoiding people, up on the roof, and looking through a telescope.

Satellite in my eyes
like a diamond in the sky
How I wonder
Satellite
strung from the moon
and the world your balloon...

Scully blinked. Because even if she felt compelled to sing? That still didn't mean she could carry a tune in a bucket.

[open as a roof often is!]

notmyownage

Claudia hit the ground with a soft whump and blinked into the dirt. She looked up just in time to catch the last of the clouds disappearing on the horizon.

There was a horizon again! She remembered horizons. Horizons were good.

She remembered the rest of it, and not sure where the urge came from, she focused in on it nonetheless, remembering her dorm room and her friends and the town, her brother and their parents and Artie and the Warehouse and Myka and Pete and their families and Leena and Mrs. Frederick and everything else she could think of.

It took awhile, that much remembering. But for the first time in what felt like ages, Claudia figured she had awhile to spare.

[ooc: sure, it can be open, why not?]

notmyownage

Claudia had spent a fair chunk of her time over Thanksgiving alternating between harassing Artie and her brother on a frighteningly regular basis and going out to the Causeway to try sending various objects across as many different ways and at as many different points as possible.

So far, she'd learned pretty much nothing at all, other than that sometimes the objects came back and sometimes they really, really didn't.

She'd taken the time to add Peter and her mystery caller to the new bulletin board and scan it, looking for patterns, then had grabbed her guitar and headed to the roof. She was too stressed out, right now. She needed to decompress a little. As usual, she'd picked a song rather before her time to try her hand at.

( She was cut off by the buzz of her Farnsworth )

Claudia threw her phone across the roof with a howled "No!".

[ooc: open roof is open. Claudia's howl is pretty impressive (at 1:29).]

notmyownage

Claudia's online guitar course was going well, but hot damn, were the practice lessons boring. After checking out her roommate's fabulous new hair that morning, she felt the need to flex a few punkier muscles herself. Things were too crowded in the dorms, so she'd headed up to the roof, a guitar tabs app loaded on her phone, to try out a new tune.

Advantage of punkier side: she only had to worry about transitioning between four chords. The Pixies beat out "Oh Susanna" any day.

[ooc: what can I say? I'm an eensy bit nostalgic tonight. Roof is always open, though Claudia is certainly not expecting an audience.]

chief-cheerio.livejournal.com

Quinn put her hands on her hips and surveyed the lawn beside the dorm with satisfaction. The tea party for the Fabray/Wyndam-Pryce ticket didn't look bad at all, she thought. They'd cordoned off an area with red, gold and black balloons and stuck campaign signs in the ground, and there was a buffet of herbal tea, scones, fruit, and finger sandwiches for everyone to nibble.

They hadn't known about the debate when they planned this, but really, it was a perfect companion event -- a little lower-key chance to polish their lines and make sure they'd connect with the voters.

Pasting on a smile, she stood near the front of the space and waited for potential voters to wander past.

Current Mood: hopeful

whateverknight.livejournal.com

Squall didn't know what to do about the people getting sick. He didn't know what to do about the creeping grayness of the land, or how to fix things.

There was one thing he could do, though. And he could do it very well.

Beside him lay a pile of dead creatures, slowly leaching foul fluid into the grass. Some of it was blood. Some of it was green and globby, or thick and black and inky, or a purple that almost seemed to glow. Where it had spattered on Squall, it sizzled and slowly burned away at his leathers.

None of the twisted animals were going to get NEAR the front door of the dorms -- not if he could help it.

(Open like an open thing!)

[ETA: LJ is being a sucky thing right now and not sending me notifications. If I accidentally drop a thread, smack me via email or IM.]

Current Mood: whatever

dollpocalypse

It had been bad enough to wake up as a pony. Now Topher was realizing that his hooves made it impossible to play video games. Video games. IT WAS KILLING HIM. He stomped around on the controllers, trying to figure out a system, but his tiny character just kept getting blasted with fire that he could have avoided if he had had opposable thumbs, damnit.

Stupid controller.

Then it cracked under his hooves. Frustrated, Topher flopped down on the ground in front of the TV. This sucked.

wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com

Wesley somehow managed to make it all the way out to the campfire before he saw -- it. A cluster of enormous metal spiders. And on top of that, they all appeared to be trying to roast marshmallows over the fire.

He shrieked -- in a completely manly way, of course -- and suddenly felt incredibly grateful that he had never quite broken the habit of carrying a knife around with him, just in case. He had to hop around a bit to get it out of his shoe, but then he had it in hand and, with a battle cry that he certainly thought would sound fearsome, leapt forward and went after the little metal buggers.

Dear lord, they were tough.

[[Open campfire filled with moddable spiders, hooray!]]

puppywithatutu.livejournal.com

For once, Caroline actually had a project to do! She was kind of excited about the idea of making signs for the sibling she hadn't technically gotten yet, but felt certain she deserved, so of course she was going to get one, it was simply a matter of time. And so Caroline had gathered a ton of supplies from the shop in town, and okay, since there were vikings all around, there was a total Icelandic theme going on. Makers, glitter glue, and construction paper in colors she had deemed within the viking spirit were laid out all over the floor in the common room.

Sorry people who had hoped to walk by.

Caroline wasn't certain about her first attempt, but that was why she had more poster board, duh. She brushed a bit of glitter from her bare knees as she got to her feet, surveying the work she'd done so far. She took a few steps back to see if her sign was readable at a distance and nodded, pleased with her work. Now if only she had a name to add. Fill in the blank was kind of hard.

But then, maybe someone was taking the whole big sibling thing a little far.

[So totally open as CRs are!]

Current Mood: busy

notmyownage

Claudia supposed it was inevitable. She'd come back from the dance, all tired and cheerful and about to open the door to 317 when she heard . . . well. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the odd noises on the other side of the door meant -- just someone who'd watched her share of the raunchier sitcoms over the years. She about-faced and headed for the common room, wondering if she should stay up and try to wait it out, or try to figure out how to make homemade toothpaste out of the stuff she found in the fridge.

She settled onto the couch, pulling an afghan over her shoulders, and flipped on the TV. "Just like a sleepover," she muttered. "A slightly lame, one woman sleepover." Quinn so owed her.

[ooc: Common room is open.]

notmyownage

It was cold and the power was out. That could only mean one thing for Claudia -- time to hit the common room kitchen and try to make her homemade chemical heat packs again.

What else was a girl to do after classes on a quiet, cold, central-heating-free afternoon? Cuddle up beside the fire with hot cocoa? Please.

[ooc: as open as a common room could be.]

notmyownage

It'd taken an exceptionally long time -- especially after Claudia became convinced the rickshaw driver was a stealth-goblin and decided to abandon ship -- but Claudia'd finally managed to haul the lightly snoring Scully back to her room. She had her arms hooked under Scully's, locked tight over her chest, and after half of town, the school grounds, and two flights of stairs, Claudia wasn't actually sure she'd end up being able to let go.

"Next time --" she gasped, fumbling around to try and get at Scully's pocket for a key without dropping her friend. "-- I'm just gonna --" *pant, wheeze* "ow -- take pictures and -- keeeeeeeeeeeeys -- send them your -- ha! -- lonely sniper friends."

Okay. She had keys. She had Scully. She had no idea where her knees were supposed to be.

"Oh lord. Going down." She tipped over backwards. "Okay! We'll just -- rest here a bit."

[ooc: I haaaaaaaaaaaaad to. Scully modded with permission.]

exspeedydotcom

While Roy was aware that things were...weird today (and possibly for the last few days), he was also aware that he was hungry, dammit. So he was in the common room with way too much pizza. Also, no shirt. What? He was overly warm. He thought there might be something wrong with the heating system.

((Open common room is open for socializing, traumatizing, overshare...izing.))

notmyownage

Holy crap, Claudia was actually trying to cook. You'd think she'd have learned her lesson after trying to overclock a waffle iron, but, well, every now and then her plucky and adventurous side had to make itself known, and today, it wanted to make itself known through food.

And humming.

And every now and then, singing ever so softly to herself.

( Lalala, lyrics )

[ooc: open! Results of Claudia's attempts to cook are not guaranteed to be edible.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

After getting back from Colorado, Bruce got some dinner from Ching Tai. Unfortunately, they gave way too much food, so he set up in the common room. If people were hungry, they could take. He could have done that and gone to his room with his food, but he figured that would prevent him from seeing how other people were reacting to the gender switch. And really, his want to be left alone was easily overruled by his curiosity.

While he was in the common room, though, he wasn't touching the TV. It would end up stuck on the Style Network or something if he did. He could deal with being a girl, but that was asking too much.

[OOC: Open like a gender-neutral common room.]

need-no-moon.livejournal.com

Jake was reclining on one of the chairs, his bare feet propped up on the railing. He was bored, bored and bored. Which led him to having gone off island for a while, catching up with the rest of the pack. On his way back, he'd found a nice piece of wood which he was working it with his knife so it slowly started to take the shape of a wolf.

It was kind of relaxing and he was able to push aside thoughts of how fucking annoying Leah was, needing to keep insinuating things. Damn, but was he grateful he didn't need to put up with her every frigging day. It was much like Professor Skywalker had told him, keeping your hands busy helped to clear you mind.

[Open like an open deck.]

Current Mood: artistic

notmyownage

Claudia had no classes. She had no work. She was waiting to hear back from some experts in regards to the whole Joshua question, and she had no current projects in regards to building, experimenting, or overclocking anything.

She was (god help us all) bored.

So here she was, in the common room, sacked out on the couch and watching a movie about bouncing puppets and a rock star who stuffed his pants.

[ooc: open!]

endsthegame

A rip opened in the middle of the dorms lobby-- but it was unlike any void the island had seen before. It didn't precisely shine, but white light did filter out, almost tentatively, like the rays of the morning sun. It did not pull or pluck at anything, and when it vanished, it would leave the dorms exactly as it had found them.

It was not a rift that would take; it was a rift that would give.

Give back the people it had taken, that is.

[[ for those who were formerly strewn across the multiverse, after they touch their part! come home, folks ]]

notmyownage

So, it was official. They said it on the radio and everything. Fandom sucked, and was out to get her.

Okay, so they didn't say that bit. But they did confirm that the latest weirdness meant it was, like, the one time she could have gotten any of her family to actually visit the island. She figured it would have been nice if her parents showed, but she could forgive them. She barely even remembered them -- she'd been too young when they'd died. But to have Joshua not show up?

That was just . . . mean.

So she was up on the roof, staring vaguely over the edge, watching out for people wandering around with their dead loved ones and generally being grumpy. It was probably a really good thing she and Scully hadn't put a trebuchet up here, yet.

[ooc: Roof of emo is open, yo. My poor girl is working on an epiphany, but she's absolutely botherable.]

need-no-moon.livejournal.com

Jake was barrelling down the stairs. Barrelling because he liked speed, and stairs were boring. He was jumping three, four stairs at once, trusting his hearing to pick up on anyone coming up the other way. It was near the landing of the first floor that it happened. It shouldn't have happened, he was a wolf and he was fast and balanced. He didn't fall. Just didn't.

It made no sense. Absolutely no sense for him to go lose his balance and miss the next stairs. And then he wasn't barrelling, but more... following gravity on his way to the ground.

[For one please, but the rest of the post is open in case you need the stairs.]

Current Mood: rushed

notmyownage

So, cooking was basically just chemistry, right? Combine items in precise measurements, add a catalyst for a specified result. In this case, waffles. And Claudia was a physicist, but she totally rocked the chemistry on occasion. In theory, she should totally be awesome at this, too.

Unfortunately, being a scientist meant she also knew that just because something worked in theory didn't mean it actually worked in the real world.

It probably didn't help that she kept having to fight the urge to try and overclock the waffle iron.

[ooc: open]

theotherpeter.livejournal.com

Peter was deliberately trying to ignore the fact that he seemed to be plastic. He didn't want to deal with that.

It was, however, making sipping his coffee a problem. As he sat in the common room, Dirty Jobs on the TV, he couldn't help but wonder if he was going to accidentally melt something.

That would be terrifying.

He was avoiding thinking of a lot of things, right now. There was only so much the sane human mind could deal with.

[ooc: Open like an open thing.]

notmyownage

No classes or work -- and not quite having the energy to go out and attempt to rebuild the trebuchet -- made for a nice lazy afternoon. Claudia was curled up on one side of the common room couch for a little light reading.

Look, when you spent more than half your time studying theoretical physics, Gravity's Rainbow WAS light reading. Maybe not as light as, say, Vonnegut, maybe. And, okay, she'd only made it 20 pages in, so far. She kept getting distracted by the whole thing with the giant blobby slime monster eating London.

Literature was totally screwed up, yo. English teachers never told you that.

[ooc: Do I have to meta Pynchon? Open!]

notmyownage

The last thing a hungover girl wanted to be doing was sifting through the trash. But when that hungover girl had spent the afternoon before throwing out all her books, research papers, and gathered supplies? That was just what she was doing.

"Oh god, oh god, please be here, oh god."

Like attacking the trebuchet, getting trashed on mojitos, flashing the bar tender, drunk dialing one of her best friends, and crashing for the night in the graveyard wasn't enough.

[ooc: establishing, but can totally be open, too.]

notmyownage

Claudia was feeling weirdly restless after class, today. Pacing back and forth in her cabin restless. All she had lying around were, like, chemicals and books. She was so not in the mood to read anything, and you know, when you got down to it, those chemicals just kinda took up space and smelled funky. They were probably an affront to the island gods. She gathered it all up, books, jars of minerals, even her bunsen burner, lugged them outside, and dropped them in the trash, then went to burn off some excess energy.

Which would be why she was out dismantling the trebuchet.

With a sledge hammer.

[ooc: oh but she's gonna hate me for this in the morning. Open.]

notmyownage

The trebuchet was nearing completion. Soon it would be time for ammunition trials.

But, well, sometimes Claudia was impatient. Which would be why, despite having not yet perfected the counterweight system, she was loading the sucker up with some water balloons -- it'd taken some doing, but she'd finally managed to double up on the balloons so they'd have a chance of surviving the force of the fling and make it to their target.

Time to give this baby a test run.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

The first balloon burst halfway up the arc of the fling, sending water all over the trebuchet and its operator. The second flung off backwards into a tree -- but at least the balloon survived.

This was way better than trying to figure this stuff out on paper.

[ooc: bleah, work. Open for distractination!]

theotherpeter.livejournal.com

One month to the day, even though he hadn't planned it, Peter was back in the rec room playing on the piano. He was awaiting the arrival of his ~~date~~ prearranged meeting person, but while he waited he was playing a bit of Bach, just hoping that maybe the classical music might keep others away. Maybe.

[ooc: Peter is here for one, but totally botherable previous to her arrival!]

showmetheproof.livejournal.com

Scully's progress at the gun range was going well; although she was feeling restless. Maybe it was time for a visit off-island? Just to see her mom? And play a prank on the Lone Gunmen?... and maybe check up on Mulder?

In the meantime, there was shooting. Which helped. And showing Claudia how to do so.

[for

notmyownage, but open to all]

notmyownage

Claudia was sitting propped against the trebuchet-in-progress, surrounded by sheets of paper held down with rocks, with a notebook perched on her knees.

Some of the papers had diagrams of potential finished trebuchet. Some had calculations regarding the probable velocity and forces acting upon anything flung from the potential finished trebuchet. Some of them . . . regarded something else entirely. Something about a very large compass, and accounting for inertia and the rotation of the Earth. Those were the ones she was poking at, now.

It was best not to ask, really.

[ooc: I'm drowning in documents! Save me with distractions of an RP kind?]

theotherpeter.livejournal.com

Peter was technically tempting fate, lying down near the campfire. He made sure his feet were far enough from the fire that he wasn't in danger of accidentally setting himself on fire.

He was humming 'Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds' to himself, looking up at the stars. This totally beat random TV in a common room.

[ooc: Open!]

kissytheface.livejournal.com

Anyone walking near the Godzilla cabin could probably hear the ruckus. The ruckus in particular appears to be a certain girl with pink hair holding an impromptu concert for two squirrels who can only sit and stare at her. She is a frenzy of energy as she shouts and yells into the microphone as she rocks out on an out of tune guitar with a good deal of feedback coming from the speakers.

"I'M NOT SAYIN' I'M BETTER THAN YOU! I'M BETTER THAN YOU! I'M BETTER THAN YOU!
I'M NOT SAYING I'M RUBBER NOR DID I IN ANY WAY SUGGEST YOU ARE GLUUUUUUUUUUUUUE!"

Dandelion Naizen finished the song with what could almost be called a power chord and threw her hands in the air forming the fists of rock.

"THANK YOU FANDOM!"

She waited until she realized there was no applause coming from the squirrels and scowled at them.

"You f%#$ers have no soul. CLEARLY YOU ARE INSINUATING I AM SOME SORT OF VIKING!"

The two squirrels looked at each other. Clearly there was no insinuation.

"DON'T LIE TO ME! CLEARLY YOU ARE OF NORDIC DESCENT! I'll have you know the secret government agency I work for has cleared me to use DEADLY FORCE!"

The squirrels put down their notepads and backed away. This might get ugly.

[Open, yes]

showmetheproof.livejournal.com

Time to both catch-up, and experiment.

"This may not work," Scully said to Claudia. "But I'm just honored to help."

The construction in question was getting larger as she watched.

[for

notmyownage, but open for bogglers - all Claudia's cool idea]

abitlegless.livejournal.com

Ender had told him about television when he'd been trying to explain the computer and holograms: light that was shaped into things. Hiccup hadn't actually made the connection between the box he'd seen in the common room and television until he'd come wandering in search of food and seen the pictures playing across the glass.

Quest for food forgotten, he dropped to his knees in front of it, eyes wide, one hand on the glass. There were people and animals and machines and some sort of magical liquid that promised to make him irresistible to girls if he sprayed it all over himself. There was even a man on a horse.

Enraptured, Hiccup just kept staring, eyes about six inches from the screen.

[OOC: Open, of course! But you may have to shove the Viking out of the way if you want to watch TV.]

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

Inspired by her French class today, Rilla had slipped into her room to pick up her copy of a Victor Hugo novel (in English. Her French wasn't nearly that good) and curled up on a sofa in the common room with the book, an apple and a cup of tea (which tasted a bit stewed. Rilla wasn't used to make her own tea).

This, she decided as she turned a page, was a marvelous way to spend the afternoon.

[OOC: Oh so open.]

Current Mood: calm

notmyownage

Graduation and the seniors leaving only stood to make Claudia realize that she'd been kind of anti-social, especially towards the end of the semester. Sure, avoiding people was something of a habit of hers, what with growing up around folks who couldn't even begin to understand her, but around here, most people seemed to take her brand of crazy in stride. Clearly, something would have to be done.

Which would be how she ended up on the roof with a baker's dozen bottles of diet soda, six rolls of Mentos, and several model rockets.

Yeah, she knew exactly what would happen when these things combined. That wasn't the point of this particular experiment.

[ooc: Open roof is open! It's a glorious day, and I'm jealous of Claudia's ability to enjoy it.]

thismaskiwear.livejournal.com

Katchoo being shorter than Francine wasn't new; Katchoo being this much shorter than Francine was.

Also not new: Francine feeding people, where for the time being the term 'people' encompassed her tiny four-year-old roommate-slash-girlfriend, currently plunked down three feet in front of the TV and flipping through the channels because nobody wanted her anywhere near the food preparation. That remote control might get thrown sometime soon.

Why?

"STUPID GOLF! I WANNA WATCH SOMETHING ELSE!"

Because of that.

This could get messy, and that was even before the food.

[OOC: Francine modded with permission, common room is open. Beware of Chewie-flung projectiles.]

bigbadgunn.livejournal.com

Having nothing better to do today, Gunn had set himself up on the couch where a rerun of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker was playing on the TV. Between laughing at the show he was busy shoveling spoonfuls of Peanut Butter Crunch in his mouth.

In his opinion there were few better ways to waste an afternoon.

[Open of course.]

notmyownage

Claudia was slouched on the couch with some show about random stuff at the Smithsonian on as background noise as she sifted through her notes from her classes, so far. She was less of a mind to review what she was supposed to be learning than to figure out which teacher to approach for a pass into the library's special collections. There was a small voice in the back of her head reminding her that Joshua probably wouldn't see it as fulfilling his legacy if she got eaten by carnivorous books, but that was easily ignorable.

She was not so intent that she didn't spot the small fuzzy thing walking across the common room, though. She watched it for a long moment, tilting her head curiously.

"What are you supposed to be? Some kind of lemur?"

[ooc: open, natch]

notmyownage

It was generally just a good idea, when one was trying to create exothermic chemical reactions, to look for a spot with good ventilation and not a whole lot of extra people. She'd considered the roof, but, well, Minnesotans might be used to cold, but that also involved knowing when to stay in from it, so she settled for wiring her desk fan to a couple of lithium batteries and bringing it to an unoccupied common room. She cracked a window, set the fan up to blow outwards, and got to work.

She had vinegar, baking soda, and several bags of salt and vinegar potato chips lined up on the counter, a large pot of water boiling over the fire -- and yeah, she was trying not to think too hard about where the fireplace had come from -- and several varied sizes of heavy duty plastic sacks.

Time to make some homemade chemical heatpacks!

[ooc: open, should anyone else be up and about at this hour!]

bitchprince

Normally, he'd be out harassing Katchoo at this hour, but Katchoo was otherwise preoccupied and far be it for Arthur to acknowledge in any way, shape or form that he sort of missed her being human-shaped. So, in order to avoid the appearance of sulking by staying in his room with his copy of Salammbo, he trudged down to the common room to do the same.

He spent all of two seconds considering the idea of baking himself an egg, then discarded it. Instead, he scrounged around for some grapes and flopped down in a seat with his book.

Getting his own food. How the mighty had fallen.

[[ open ]]

wwiii

The thing about having wings and living on an island where, theoretically, one could walk around with them in plain view without raising a huge fuss was that, sooner or later, one had to get ideas about the whole thing.

And Warren's idea as he stood on the edge of the roof looking out over the island once again was this; That he had wings. That it would be a sin to just keep them bunched up underneath that coat of his for the rest of his life, after leaping out a window in order to keep from losing them in the first place.

And oh, yes. That he could fly. That was the important bit, right there.

That was why this evening, as he made his way up to the roof, he was shrugging out of his coat. Because he'd had these wings since he was just a little kid, and he'd used them twice. Twice. And both times had been more exhilarating than he'd ever imagined they could be, and he wanted more.

Just as soon as he was finished balking at the fact that he was standing on the edge of the roof, and all. Maybe he should have started on the ground?

[Open roof is open! Why not, right?]

need-no-moon.livejournal.com

Yes, Jacob knew it was January, thank you very much. No, he wasn't wearing shoes. Look, he'd actually dragged the stupid t-shirt with him to avoid odd looks, but there just was no way to fit the shoes in the rubber band that was still tied around his ankle.

He'd done some experimenting and discovered that when he morphed on the island, he couldn't hear any of the other werewolves. Which was cool and worrying at the same time. It also meant he was going to have to actually call home if he wanted to catch up with what was going on. At least that worked, he'd tried it as soon as he'd gotten to his room on Saturday.

He'd slumped down on one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table as he contemplated his stay so far. Class could have gone better. A lot better. His roomie hadn't killed him yet for snoring and he was four years in the future. He wondered if Bella was still alive.

[Open like a deck in winter time.]

longislandiceme

Bobby's ability to somehow procure massive amounts of food had not deserted him, as evidenced by the fact that currently in the common room there was one (1) Bobby Drake, a stack of the last three (3) issues of Rebel Justice Unleashed and one dozen (12) pizzas of various varieties.

The common room was open and Bobby was perfectly willing to share... the pizzas, that is. Persuading him to share comic books might be a more difficult task.

[ooc: bored. avoiding doing anything resembling something productive, at least until I have to go back to school tomorrow.]

notmyownage

It was cold and windy in Maryland tonight, yet Claudia had already found her way to the roof. What? She just got here from Minnesota. Sure, this wasn't exactly balmy but it was better than possibly setting off a smoke alarm on her first day here.

See, she wasn't just sitting up here being emo or contemplating or what-have-you. She was perched on the edge of the emo garden in her work goggles with Karla's welcoming basket at her feet. She had the umbrella on her shoulder to act as a wind-block and a pair of boxer shorts on her head as a hat. She was sipping from tiny little bottles of rum as she dismantled the prepaid cellphone to see if she could salvage any of its various parts.

For Claudia, this was something approaching heaven.

[ooc: Yeah, so I mostly wanted to get her into the goggles already. But open roof is open, for any willing to brave the weather.]

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