fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with dave nelson

It was raining.

It was not raining very hard, but it was definitely raining at the insane time the sirens went off across the school. The lawn outside was slowly but surely turning into a wet mess, and the grass was just high enough in some places that it might leave wet splotches on an unsuspecting passer-by's pants.

Clearly this was a great time for a fire drill.

It was clearly also a great time to test the new volume on the sirens, which blared even harder than they had ever done before. Hope you didn't have to take any tests in the morning, kids!

[[ has a firedrill! students, have at. ]]

notconflicted

Sia had gone to the common room looking to make dinner, really. Unlike some family members, she'd figured out pretty quickly that putting dry pasta in boiling water and throwing some sauce on it was really all you had to do, and no one even had to push her into doing it.

She hadn't gotten that far yet, because she'd been distracted by her phone ringing. "I'm sorry," she replied once she'd listened. "You have the wrong person." And she hung up.

A moment later, her phone rang again. "I told you before, this is the wrong number. Stop calling."

It was ringing again. She was contemplating throwing the phone itself in some boiling water.

[This is what happens when you ask Nick for a prompt. Open!]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

For the life of him, Dave couldn't find where his tent was supposed to be. He spent a while looking and for the life of him, he just couldn't find it. Eventually Dave had to give up and made his way to the main campfire, figuring that maybe somebody could point him in the direction of Nonexis Te...

Oh. He just got the irony.

Well, whether they worked as payment for somebody who could point him toward his tent or to help him deal with the thought that his tent might be a cruel joke at his expense, Dave had the basic materials for S'mores. And dammit, he was making some.

[OOC: I promised

rilla_myrilla I'd post something like this when the tents were announced. Because of course I did. Campfire is open!

And as far as I know, Nonexis Tent does exist. Dave just can't find it.]

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

Rilla had intended to spend her evening cooking for her boys: Jem and Jerry in Flanders and Walter and Kenneth in training in Kingsport.

Instead she was shrieking at a goat and beating it with what was left of her cookbook.

"YOU SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW! THAT'S MY SHORTBREAD RECIPE."

The goat was sad, so sad, but not letting it go.

Just another Thursday night in Fandom.

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Assuming Miley wasn't so devastated about not going to Mispronounced Stanford (Dave kind of refused to believe that "Standford" was an actual school) that she couldn't take him to the Prom, Dave would be going to the dance tonight. But until then, he was manning the table in the lobby, ready to sell last minute tickets and watch over Prom Court voting.

Dave was also available to give last minute opinions on hair ("It looks great! Have you bought your ticket?") and dresses ("It looks great! You do have your ticket, right?"). Or, alternately, suits ("You know most suits are pretty much the same, right? Just don't stray too far from the pack and you're fine. And you've bought your ticket, right?"). He took his duties seriously.

longislandiceme

Bobby had almost- almost actually smiled when he'd woken up this morning only to find he wasn't in the camp anymore. No, he was back at that strange school the other-him apparently attended.

Which was why the almost smile, because he knew from experience that this was only going to last a couple of days before he was back at the Alamo.

Still, might as well make the most of it, right? So he was puttering around the kitchenette, trying to find something to eat that required a minimum of preparation. And then maybe there would be some television to watch. He hadn't watched TV in forever.

[ooc: Bobby Drake is now the House of M version, and this common room is now the open version!]

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Annie had decided to take it upon herself to clean up a little bit this afternoon. You're welcome, third floor. She'd turned on the radio because music always made cleaning a little more fun, and she was done with the kitchen before she knew it.

So she went out to the living room, dusted a little and fluffed the pillows, all while bopping around the common room, and there really didn't need to be any reason not to dance around to good, peppy music, right?

[An impromptu dance party was requested, and an impromptu dance party ye shall receive. Open!]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Dave went down to the table in the lobby early and stayed there all day. Well, nearly all day. There was Jamie and Jeff's class in there....

But when he wasn't in the insane class, he was here to sell Valentine's Day dance tickets and flowers. Students could also sign up for a fraternity-sponsored blind date.

Really, Dave was currently your one-stop shop for Valentine's-related activities. Yes, that thought was bizarre to him, too.

its-theclimb.livejournal.com

Miley had just come into the common room because she wanted some waffles, was the thing.

What she hadn't wanted -- what no human being alive had ever wanted -- was to stumble across what appeared to be a creepy doll tea party. Except instead of drinking tea, the dolls were eating soup.

Vivid red, blood-colored soup.

Miley screamed.

[[YOU KNOW SOUP IS SCARY. YOU KNOW IT. JUST ASK

annieadderall. OPEN!]]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Dave had recently had a passion stirred within him. A longing that had but one name: TAP. Well, it probably had more names. Hoofing, for one. Tripping the light fantastic for another, if you believed synonym.com. But it was a passion that was, admittedly, kind of embarrassing and extremely noisy, so he tried not to practice it in his room for fear of Topher or neighbors.

That's why he was in the rec room practicing right now. Slightly out of the way but still putting himself out there for encouragement and, perhaps, bonding with fellow semi-hidden hoofers. There was just one problem.

Breasts.

Dave didn't have a whole lot in that area this weekend, but a little was enough without the proper undergarments and while tap dancing. He hadn't yet figured out how to adjust for extra bits flopping around wildly. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it felt true when he couldn't get a traveling Maxie Ford right. The breasts were the only explanation. He didn't know how, but they were throwing him off completely.

So never mind the guy cursing the very existence of his breasts while making noise by stepping awkwardly around the rec room. He was just practicing.

[OOC: Do yourself a favor. Never read descriptions of tap dance moves on Wikipedia. Just YouTube them. Anyway, open!]

dressedinblood

Anna wandered into the second floor common room on Monday afternoon in search of something to do with herself. She picked up the remote control, not really knowing what it was or what it did, and wound up turning on the TV, which gave her a bit of a start at first. She hadn't realized that flat black thing was a television. They had been substantially different when she was alive, and her family had never had one, anyway. And it was in color and the picture was so crisp and bright!

She was quickly able to figure out the remote now that she knew what it was for, and she flipped through the channels--"Good grief, how many are there?"--until she found "HOCKEY!" Her squeal of delight was possibly the happiest she'd sounded since, well. Since she was alive. And they were playing outside! How fun! "Who's playing?" she muttered to herself, squinting at the screen. "The Rangers and...who are the Flyers? Philadelphia? Well...I guess that makes sense..." The NHL couldn't possibly have stayed exactly the same for the last fifty-three years. She would have to find out more.

You could take the ghost out of Canada, but not Canada out of the ghost, it seemed.

((Open!))

wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com

Okay, so this wasn't the happiest event Student Council or the Reserves had ever put together.

It wasn't even in the top fifty.

Still, there were some of the trappings of a standard student event: Free food, for one, represented by a table of pizzas. Odd decorations -- CPR dummies, in this case.

And, of course, people standing in the front of the room waiting to talk.

"Hey," Quinn said. Her hair was pulled back simply , and she looked tired. "We know this is not the best week, so thanks for coming out. A lot of us are feeling sort of run down by what's going on, and we wanted to get people together outside the library. There's pizza, and if you want to brush up on CPR, Dave and Wesley are both pretty handy."

She glanced over to Wes now to see if he wanted to add anything.

"We'll be doing some demonstrations in a brief while," Wesley said. "In the meantime, help yourself to anything you'd like to eat, enjoy yourselves, er, as best you can, and feel free to come to us with any questions you might have."

Way to put people in the party mood, Wes. Really. Two thumbs-up on that one.

Quinn didn't have much else to add, so she tried to smile and wandered off toward the first aid area and hoped people would follow.

[[OCD up! Have at!]]

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

Rilla had noticed that the volume level on the fifth floor seemed slightly higher today than she was used to, but she (being her normal size and having no roommate other than Jims) brushed it off in favor of heading to the common room and starting to prepare lunch: soup and toast for her and a bottle of milk for Jims.

Just another Saturday in Fandom, right?

[OOC: Mwahaha.]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Dave was going to have a sandwich for dinner while he watched some television. There was a station with nothing but really old TV shows, which was exactly the kind of thing he wanted to see when he was spending a quiet night in.

Unfortunately for him, Dave accidentally turned on the hockey game. He had a moment of panic and turned it off as quickly as he could, somehow ending up on a Spanish language channel. He had no idea what was happening on it, but the characters were definitely involved in some kind of intrigue. There was a moment of relief when he realized that there was no way anyone would ever suspect him of being a Mexican spy, so he put the remote down on the couch to take a bite of his sandwich. Taking a moment to calm down about his irrational spy-phobia, Dave decided that he could change the channel so he reached for the remote... which had disappeared.

Dave looked on the floor, under the coffee table, in between the cushions, and even in his pockets. The remote was nowhere to be found. He resigned himself to having to watch whatever was on the Spanish channel and sat down to go back to his sandwich... which had also disappeared. He looked around to see that there was nobody around at the moment.

"Well, fine. I'll just watch whatever this is without food," Dave said defiantly.

[OOC: I have no idea.]

hoorayimrich.livejournal.com

When people arrived for the party, the sixth floor was decked out with what appeared to be half of a party store. Like Halloween got sick all over the place. With glitter. You couldn't have Halloween without an inordinate amount of glitter, right? It was high school, this was a law.

If you ignored that, the rest of the place was set up for people to be able to hang out and get to know each other. Or continue to know each other.

Whichever worked for the guests.

dollpocalypse

This morning, signs had ~~handwavily~~ gone up in the common rooms advertising the presence of a free laundry service in the laundry room today who would wash people's clothes upon request. That free laundry service (read: pair of students in detention) was less than thrilled about the arrangement.

"I don't see why I have to be here," Topher whined, kicking the machine he was sitting on. "I didn't do anything!"

"You shrank my clothes, asshat," Ramona replied, rolling her eyes as she investigated the room for a window she could crack so she could smoke. "Shut up and get ready to use some fabric softener. Maybe no one'll show."

"I have asthma," Topher informed her. "You can't smoke in here."

A beat.

"And what's fabric softener?"

Request their services at your own peril, Fandom.

[[Open to all, muahaha. Prewritten with the lovely

dabblinginbitch, obviously. This detention is brought to you by the brilliant

nookiepowered. OCD ~~on the way~~ up!]]

annieadderall.livejournal.com

After second period, Annie lugged all the supplies she had access to down to the rec room, figuring it wouldn't distract people in the lobby (especially while tickets were on sale) but people could wander over if they were interested. They might have to work around some stuff, being the rec room and all, but it was doable. It wouldn't hurt anyone to see homecoming decorations beforehand, right? She'd sent an email to the rest of Student Council to make sure they knew where she was and to bring anything they might have with them that might help out, and then got all the ~~moddable~~ supplies she had set up in an orderly fashion.

Then she found a spot on the floor to begin applying glitter to a moose.

That's right. You were going to get glitter moosen, and you were going to like it.

[Mainly for the StuCo members, but if you just wanna wander on in, come see! Be blinded by glitter! So much glitter!]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Last time Dave was down here with a table, he had free jam as a way of selling himself (not like a prostitute). Today he had tickets to sell for Homecoming. But that wasn't the only difference between now and then. Now the sign he had with him had a whole lot of glitter.

HOMECOMING 2011
BUY YOUR TICKETS HERE!!

And that meant he would have some glitter on him for weeks. At least it made him appear more festive.

And also there was, of course, the box for voting for Homecoming Court. It had been there the whole time. Really.

[OOC: Up early because I would forget it if I had to put it up in the morning.]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Dave needed to practice. The recital for Parents Weekend was coming up soon and he hadn't thrown a single knife in months. He'd called home to let his mother know that he'd be needing his performance knives, but a quick look around the common rooms had supplied him with enough decent quality knives that he could at least get back into the groove before the weekend.

Of course, that begged the question of where exactly you could practice throwing knives at things around here without getting a detention for it. So Dave - quite reasonably, he felt - chose the shooting range. It gave good distance to the target, was relatively isolated, and there was even something specific to aim at! It was a win-win situation.

So that's where Dave was right now. With his stolen common room knives. That he was throwing. And yes, he still thought that Fandom was weird compared to Wisconsin.

[OOC: Open ~~shooting~~ knife throwing range!

~~Also, if anyone would want to get knives thrown at them for the recital on Saturday, please contact me. :D~~ The job is taken!]

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Annie had had a weird last week, and this one wasn't exactly off to a normal start, either. Sure, the weekend had been seriously messed up, what with smuggling alcohol and making out with someone she'd never even talked to before and oh yeah, dying from trying coffee just once, but at least it was over.

Then she'd woken up in a supply closet.

And then she'd gone back to the common room to retrieve her backpack from last night before going to class, and found alcohol in it. A lot of it.

At first she'd just hidden it in her room, and as long as she was away from there, it was fine. But when she'd gone back after class, she found she couldn't concentrate because she knew it was there. It wasn't that she wanted it. It was just that even in a town where Caritas didn't card and she'd reported on students smoking pot and drinking, she became really worried that she'd get in trouble for having it. Add in worry about going to tomorrow's NA meeting and wanting to share but all she had was that she got addicted to something and died from it and again with having the alcohol and then she started feeling stressed and guilty.

That was when Annie panicked and checked to make sure no one was in the common room yet, then dragged the bags of alcohol bottles to the kitchen area. And now all she had to do was pour them down the sink...

[Yes another dorms post. I know, and I'm sorry, now for the love of god, SOMEONE STOP HER.]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Dave Nelson was a coffee junkie. But he was a nice junkie. (...Who just happened to cut himself a deal with Anakin Skywalker himself with the condition that he share some of the coffee so he could get others hooked. He still thought he was being nice and spreading joy, even though he was keeping a sizable amount of the stuff for his private stash.)

So now that he had enough coffee to pass around, he set up a little brew house in a supply closet on the third floor. And while he was in there anyway, he just happened to find an old stereo and strobe light in the closet. So it wasn't long before Dave had set up a rave in the common room.

Techno beats were thumping, the lights were flashing, and once you dropped the $2 cover in the jar, you could get all the coffee you could drink. Although supplies were limited.

[OOC: Open for ravers and/or complainers alike! ~~Please wait for~~ minor and very presumptuous OCD is up.]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie was only partially scrambling to get everything in place for the live broadcast. Chairs were set up for the audience, each candidate had a podium, and Sam even had a little moderator's table. He'd gone all out for this set-up, even going so far as to wear the tux he'd worn for when they'd done the iCarly awards.

"Okay, we'll be live in just a few minutes, everybody," he announced. "Just relax, be yourselves, and if anyone in the audience tries to interrupt at all, I'd just like to remind you that our moderator is Sam Puckett."

It wasn't so much a threat as a healthy reminder. "And again, thanks to all you candidates for joining in. I promise we won't throw any pies or ask you to sit in fudgeballs."

And with that, Freddie went about the final prep, leaving a few minutes for the audience to mill about, and the candidates to do their final prep as well.

[ooc: ~~Please wait for massive OCD~~ Mostly up and running! More questions will be added, but you can get started within the framework!]

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!]]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

After finishing up his radio broadcast, Dave made his way back to the dorms - with a detour for coffee, of course - and started to set up a table in the lobby. He had a couple dozen jars of various fruit jams that he made last night and a poster hung on the table reading:
Dave Nelson for Sophomore Class Representative
Great with jams
Better with student government

Free homemade jam for all sophomores!

He was now ready to buy votes with smashed up, jarred fruit. Who else could say that?

[OOC: Open lobby, naturally! Dave will probably give jam to non-sophomores, too if they promise to mention his generosity to sophomores.

Oh, and I'm dropping a tiny bit of OCD in here on the off chance that somebody else wants to campaign in the lobby. Dave's not a lobby hog.]

iwishiwasbig.livejournal.com

Dave had a few things on his mind right now. Concern over the beginning of the school year. Boredom now that his horrifying yet entertaining roommate had been away for a few days. Worry about voicemails talking about giving him weapons. But right now he was focusing on the Student Council election. He intended to win one of the sophomore seats, and he was going to do it the best way he knew how: by making the best damn jam he could. And he could make pretty good jam. He won gold medals three years running for Best Preserves at his local 4-H.

And if that didn't work, maybe he could ~~terrify~~ impress people with his trick knife-throwing. But he'd have to get the money for throwing knives, or at least have his mother send his set from home. So really, the preserves were his best bet.

And that's why he was hard at work in the common room's kitchen with several jars, pots, and plenty of fruit. Once he was done with this, he just needed a good tagline. Something about... "Dave will help you out of a JAM." Except that he was using jam to win votes. Somehow.

Dave was starting to realize that he hadn't really thought through the idea of preserves as a campaign tool. But it was too late to stop now.

[OOC: The common room is as open as common rooms tend to be!]

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Annie had decided to venture out into the common room tonight, because even if she was a little psychotic when it came to school she was perfectly capable of enjoying the last few days of her break by not doing much. She could do what any other teenager would do on a Thursday night: order a totally shareable pizza, turn on the TV, and hang out.

The TV thing would be going a lot more smoothly if she could find anything on worth watching. Mostly it was just cartoons, or Reading Rainbow, or some too-cheerful program aimed towards teaching kids something or other. Given how the Hallmark commercials had brought her to tears that one day, she knew what Fandom was up to now.

Too bad she didn't figure that out before she got to Barney. ~~Or whatever meta-ly passes for it.~~"Oh nooo, I'm never getting this song out of my head."

[Open like a common room! I love you, you love me...]

forhisfriends.livejournal.com

Simon didn't mind the cold. Being a pale Englishman, he actually much preferred it to the summer heat he knew they should have been having on the island. And it wasn't just that: the cold also cleared his head. Which really needed clearing, after he'd spent half the day trying to calculate just how much slower time was going back where he was from. It seemed that even though he made calls to England at regular intervals, every time less and less time had passed over there between his calls.

It was a little troubling. He tried telling himself that at least it was probably better this way around: had time been going faster there, he would've run the risk of missing something important. This way, he'd have more time to react to whatever might happen. He could be there in an instant, from their point of view.

That's what he kept telling himself to stop worrying. But, he needed distractions. So he was out. Roasting marshmallows. Occasionally chewing on his lip as he got lost in his thoughts without meaning to.

He'd burned a few marshmallows that way, too.

[ooc: Open!]

geewhizfellas.livejournal.com

Butters was still pretty darn sure this wasn't a very good idea, but, as usual, Stan had convinced him otherwise, and so there they were, him, Stan, and Jim, in the common room with a brand sparkling new deep frying machine and about a dozen boxes of Twinkies.

Well, Butters was with the deep fryer and the Twinkies. Stan and Jim were over behind the couch, using it as a shield in case this goes horribly wrong and the Twinkies blew up everywhere. Butters was much less defended and was given the task of the actual deep frying.

Each Twinkie was held tentatively over the boiling, roiling oil before he dropped it in and then jumped back, arms up over his head with a little, "Ah!" A second would pass where he'd realize everything was okay, and take a peek at the snack cake floating inside. It was the same drill with each one, and so far, none had exploded or nothing else bad had happened and it should just be a few minutes before the first batch would be ready.

Boy, cooking sure was stressful!

[[ open common room is open, and Stan and Jim modded with permission! Come. Deep fried Twinkies for everyone! ]]

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

As Rilla was practically fifteen right now, she felt quite grown-up enough to attempt to light the campfire by herself and managed without setting anything other than the kindling ablaze. In a long-ish skirt and multiple layers, this was a trickier business than you might imagine.

She settled herself onto a comfortable log, stared starry-eyed into the campfire (it reminded her of good times with her family on the shore when they burned all of the debris that washed up over the winter) and began singing a Scottish air from home.

Her voice was surprisingly good for someone who wasn't prone to singing in public, but around a campfire, such a thing was expected along with ghost stories and toasted bread.

She'd provide the bread if someone else had ghost stories.

[OOC: So very open!]

Current Mood: happy

lockestheway

Peter prided himself in being able to adapt to any situation in a short span of time. By the end of this week, he was genuinely no longer thrown by their current location. Skeptical of half the stories that had been told him, yes, but a touch of healthy skepticism had never helped anyone.

He'd also noticed the importance everyone here seemed to put on their friendships with one another. Their little common room get-togethers. And, wel, it was obvious he was already a little behind, PR-wise, here. So what else could he do but move his ass to the common room in the morning and set out some cereal? Enough to make it look like a properly catered breakfast.

It took a little planning, sure. But if his brother had managed to make friends here - of course he had - then he'd just have to pretend to be just as loveable as Ender to get ahead.

So, cereal, a stack of plates, bread, stuff like that. And Peter with a bowl of cornflakes, watching the news.

[[ open! ]]

vanillajello

After a somewhat stressful week, Kate had actually managed to have a pretty pleasant weekend. (A ~~handwavy~~ one-month anniversary could do that to a girl.) She was relaxed and something approaching happy, so today was the perfect day to devote to third floor party planning. Which was good since, you know, she hadn't actually done a lot of it yet. She'd decided the date would be next Friday, sure, but other than that... She had ideas. They just hadn't quite come together yet.

So she was in the common room, absently eating candy while sitting on a couch with her feet propped up on the edge of a coffee table and her MacBook in her lap. In no way waiting to pounce on innocent passers-by to pester them for ideas. No sir.

[ooc: You guessed it, it's an open post!]

Current Mood: creative

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

Rilla had noticed plenty of new faces and in an effort to make the ones on her floor feel particularly at home, had gone to J,GOB and picked up some cupcakes to go with the tea she was brewing. (Rilla was also learning the extent of her baking prowess and icing wasn't among her talents yet.)

She'd ignored the television, but had found the only radio station around that played music she found particularly interesting to listen to, so if you were wandering past the fifth floor common room, you'd hear the kettle shrieking and the sound of jazz playing.

Rilla was ahead of her time on music--just a few decades behind the rest of the school.

godgavemecable.livejournal.com

So yesterday had been- well, weird didn't even cover it. And today? He'd managed to find the laundry room, at least, and lucky for him they didn't need quarters or whatever to operate, so now at least what little he owned was clean. There'd also been a real honest-to-god shower to be had, and so so far Toby was counting today as a win.

There was still a part of him quietly freaking out about the weird stuff everyone had told him about yesterday, but for now? Toby was content to eat some leftover pizza he'd snagged from the picnic and channel-surf.

Fandom High RPG

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Fandom High Dormitories

Entries tagged with dave nelson

Outside the Dorms, Very Very Late Monday Evening/Too Early Tuesday Morning

Third floor common room- Thursday evening

Main Campfire, Sunday evening

Fifth Floor Common Room [evening]

First Floor Lobby, All Day

Third Floor Common Room, Saturday Morning

Third floor common room- Sunday afternoon

1st Floor Lobby- All Day

Third Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening

First Floor Rec Room, Sunday morning

Second Floor Common Room, Monday Afternoon

Student Council/Reserves Mixer and CPR Class, Friday Afternoon

Fifth floor common room [early afternoon]

Third Floor Common Room, Tuesday evening

Halloween Mixer - 6th Floor, Monday After Classes

Laundry Room, All Day Sunday [Detention]

1st floor rec room- Thursday afternoon till whenever people actually leave

1st Floor Lobby- All Day

Shooting Range, Tuesday evening

3rd Floor Common Room- Monday evening

Third Floor Common Room, Sunday evening: DAVE'S COFFEE RAVE

First Floor Rec Room, iCarly Presents the Student Council Debates, Friday Evening

Boys' Bathroom, Monday Evening

Dorm Lobby, Saturday morning

Third Floor Common Room, Friday evening

Third floor common room- Thursday night

Paranoid Parrot Campfire, Saturday Afternoon

Second Floor Common Room; Tuesday Evening [ 07/05 ].

Main Campfire [evening]

Third Floor Common Room, Saturday Morning

Third Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

Fifth floor common room [evening]

Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Evening

Fandom High RPG

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