fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with eleanor lamb

fly-so-serious.livejournal.com

So, everyone was back from Skyrim safe and sound, and no one (at least, no one Joker knew of) had come down with dysentery, or Legionnaire's, or botulism, or tetanus, or anything. Success!

Beyond that, however, there was something much, much more important to celebrate: Eleanor's birthday!

As soon as they got back to the dorms, Joker picked up the flyers he'd put together weeks ago and started posting them in the halls, and then he got started on decorating the common room. This party was going to be EPIC! Or... well, they'd just had a week that was epic, and it wasn't as fun as it ought to have been. So, this party was going to be AWESOME!

Eleanor had been wanting to watch good movies for a change, so he'd lined up some of the best for the evening's entertainment. Snacks, pizza, cake, and ice cream rounded out the party's backbone, and all that was missing was the people.

Oh, and of course, because of the day's special surprise, Joker had scribbled "BYOB (Bring Your Own Baggage)" on the bottom of every flyer before he posted them.

(open post is open!)

stacyexperiment

Yesterday's class had gotten pretty ridiculous, and because Gwen was a totally rational person who felt like she should have been granted sainthood somewhere around hour five of the discussion, today there was gonna be a party.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen! There'd been hastily-photocopied flyers put up around the dorms this morning to advertise (and warn anyone who didn't want to stumble into it). Gwen had taken advantage of the pizza place's weird fixation on giving extra food and so there was plenty in the kitchen, there were (non-alcoholic) drinks and popcorn, and there was nothing but ~~moddable~~ dirty movies on the TV. There was plenty of room, come and stay as long as you want!

That's what she said.

(But don't actually do that, ew.)

[Open, and this is me trying to keep your flists clean at work! Can't guarantee the comments will be worksafe, though. You can miss the flyers if you'd like to innocently stumble in anyway, and also feel free to bring your own movies.]

ultimatehottie.livejournal.com

Johnny had an emotional but overall good weekend. But after doing radio this morning, it was clear that Parents Weekend wasn't as pleasant for everyone.

And so, as promised, Johnny bought some cupcakes and brought them to the first floor lobby. They were available to anyone who wanted or needed them, provided they would accept a hug from Johnny. And no, that wasn't a thing for the girls. Guys were getting a bro hug too. This was a platonic hug of support.

And if you needed, he was willing to give a pep talk, too. Girls had told him that he was great at saying the right thing to make them feel good about themselves. Why not apply that to people in actual need of cheering up?

Fandom needed it's favorite flaming superhero to do something a little different today and he was completely willing to do that. That's what being a superhero was, ven if he wasn't on fire.

not_a_moonie

There were two reasons for the party being organized in the second floor common room tonight. The official one was that Sparkle and Alana were both campaigning for seats on the Student Council and needed to get their names out there.

The less official one was that Minako's fifth floor party the week before had been amazing, and the hosts wanted to prove other floors could host something just about as awesome.

Other than the VOTE FOR ALANA and VOTE FOR SPARKLE posters taped to the walls, the set-up was standard for a dorm party. They'd filled a table with pizza and snacks (including, at Sparkle's insistence, homemade sparkler-topped cupcakes), and Alana had set up her tablet to play a mix of trancey pop music. The electronica battled for ear space with an intentionally campy sci-fi movie playing on the TV.

Everyone in the student body had gotten an emailed invitation, so now it was just a matter of seeing who would show up.

ultimatehottie.livejournal.com

Working under the specious logic that if he couldn't remember anything before yesterday that anything dumb he did today might be forgotten soon anyway, Jonathan - no, JOHN Storm set up some chips, a few bottles of pirate rum, and a sign just outside the common room announcing the Let's Make Some Mistakes We Won't Remember Party.

He had to get creative with some of the entertainment, but John was pretty sure this whole thing would work out regardless.

pasunereveuse.livejournal.com

Celia had grown tired of the strange coldness of the room she shared with Eleanor -- it came and went, in patches and bursts, and something about the room made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. As much as she loved the architecture and design of the house, and as much as it was almost a relic of home...perhaps it had been left too long on its own.

Still, there wasn't much she could do about it, so Saturday night found Celia wandering out to the parlor and tucking herself onto a couch to watch the television. She flipped through channels, since that was really all she knew to do, yet, until she stumbled across some sort of bizarre medical show, in which people conducted interviews about something called a botched plastic surgery.

Celia paused as a woman described how her nose had turned out completely wrong, and how new doctors would be correcting the prior doctor's mistake. Celia only had long enough to realize that they were going to show the surgery before the channel abruptly changed to some sort of advertisement.

Without her doing so.

The advertisement was not nearly as interesting as the surgery -- there was a man telling her, in a very extended sort of way, why she ought to own something called a Ninja Blender. But she'd leave it, for just now. She wasn't messing with the remote again, for the moment. Either the television was acting on its own (bad) or there was something else at work (also bad.)

[open, omg! hat tip to

nobloodymessiah for Botched, which sounds like a horrifying/awesome show.]

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

All right, Eleanor hadn't had as much sleep as she might have liked. Those stolp bugs had been singing Fri-ee-day, Fri-ee-day continuously, and the cat had been nervous about her new surroundings, insisting on sniffing every last corner and climbing up to the highest possible perches. And then she would settle down and nuzzle against Eleanor and nap.

Eleanor could have watched the kitty for hours. And had, to be honest. In the wee hours of the night, she had wrapped herself around the warm fuzziness and stolen a few hours' sleep herself.

Soleil -- that was the cat's name, you see, Soleil -- had been a bit upset by the ferry crossing, but seemed to be settling in to their new temporary home just fine. The house was full of interesting smells, and shadows to chase.

It was weird, how Eleanor felt like she could hear someone tsking at her. Probably just the wind. But Eleanor herself was in a lovely mood, and the parlor was so very, very open.

(Is there a tag for the first floor parlor? I couldn't find one. ANYWAY OPEN!!!)

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

It was a lovely day today. Exactly the sort of day to spread a blanket out on the lawn, wear sunglasses, read a book and enjoy the sunshine.

Elsa -- usually an ice princess, but temporarily a polar bear cub -- was scampering around on the lawn, making the most adorable honk-growling noises. There was a very localized sort of storm around the cub: the lawn was frosting over under Elsa's feet. Little snowflakes danced in the air; Elsa was striving valiantly to catch them on her tongue.

It was incredibly cute. In fact, Eleanor was too busy watching to get very far in her book.

If anyone asked about the implausible snow, Eleanor would claim there was some Fandom-ish weather strangeness going on. Hopefully, they'd be too distracted by the adorableness to question that.

(SO VERY OPEN.)

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

Joker and Eleanor were not on a date. Dates were lovely, but dates were private affairs, not ones where they set up in the common room and tried to lure other people into joining the activity. (Which would be a little odd, since most date-related activities involved kissing, anyway.)

This was, rather, a Bad Movie Night. Joker had discovered Eleanor's dearth of knowledge about horrible movies, and was seeking rectify matters. There was popcorn, there were fizzy drinks, and there was a miniseries that Joker had promised was going to be nothing short of abominable on all possible fronts: ludicrous science, half-hearted acting, wooden characterization, paper-thin plot. Super-earthquakes were coming, from super-secret faults! And only nuclear bombs could save the day!!!

"Okay," Eleanor said, frowning at the TV as she waited for the miniseries to start. "I'm still not following you. If it's so awful, why are we watching this instead of something good?"

(Joker modded with permission. But this is emphatically not a date, and this room could not be more open; if you so much as stroll by, you can be dragged in and made to experience fake science at its worse. PLEASE, COME WATCH A TERRIBLE MINISERIES WITH JOKER AND ELEANOR.)

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

It was so sudden. One moment, Eleanor had been carving up a harpie, and the next -- it was gone. So were the zombie piranhas. And Eleanor was ... Eleanor, again. Finally. Somehow.

But the memories of it -- who she had been, what she had done -- were clawing at her. She'd been someone careless and dark, and before that, the Messiah her mother had tried to shape her into becoming. An utter absence of self.

She spent at least an hour in the shower, scrubbing, but she couldn't get that feeling out of her skin, the itch, the memory of other voices speaking through her. As her. In place of her, in the empty space where she used to be, where no one was ...

She gave up, finally, and pulled clothes on -- not the shift. Maybe she would burn the shift. Maybe that would be satisfying.

Maybe she would go up to the roof and scream and find something to break. Or maybe she could sit and watch the stars. Anything, so she didn't feel trapped under a roof right now.

(OPEN. WARNING: thread with Celia discusses suicide of an NPC and its aftermath, in some really harsh terms. (Also, Eleanor's views are her own, not mine.))

craftyladyparts.livejournal.com

Party. Party. Party. Party. Party. Party. PARTY!

Guess what time it was on the sixth floor, people. You can have a hint. The hint is "party." It said so in a banner in the common room.

It's Not Just St Patrick's Day!
It's Saturday!
Let's Party!

There were chips and a veggie plate and some sandwiches. There was water, punch, and lemonade. There was music at a level that should keep things lively here without disturbing people on lower floors.

And oh my god, there were even some games, you guys. This was going to be SUCH a fun time. Assuming people came. And Jessica, standing by the punch in yet another very pretty pink dress (where did she get all of these on such short notice?), was assuming just that. She was a very positive person.

[OOC: Party. Party. Party. Jessica put up posters yesterday, so all students are invited.]

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

Eleanor had signed herself up for a Philosophy class, assuming it would be interesting. It was. It just also made her mind hurt. She had been cooped up all weekend with the same book; she had decided to read in the common room today, in the hopes that the change of scenery might improve the matter.

The book she was currently coming to terms with was Rene Descartes' Meditations on First Philosophy, particularly Meditation I, wherein Descartes began arguing that the senses could not be trusted and that very few experiences could be accepted as factual, except the bare fact of existence itself.

It wasn't that she disagreed, exactly; it was just that it was really disconcerting to realize that he was right. And to wonder if perhaps he was wrong about existence, itself, and to extend that outward.

She was highly interrupt-able, especially if you wouldn't mind hearing about epistemology.

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

This week had been ... eventful, to say the least. Thankfully, she was no longer forced to carry around that hideous shrieking doll. So she was going to celebrate her first night of freedom from single-parenthood by trying to find Octo ER on television.

Surely it had to be on somewhere.

(so open!)

fly-so-serious.livejournal.com

Joker sat on the couch with his foot propped up. Stress fractures like the ones he'd given himself yesterday weren't so big of a deal -- he had pills for that -- but it still hurt, dammit.

He was playing a match 3 game -- in other words, swiping with one hand at glowing objects floating in the air above his other wrist -- and he had the TV on in the background, for company. It was tuned to The Weather Channel, and he was starting to get a little sick of the Winter Storm Orion coverage. "You know what I hate?" he remarked, to no one in particular. "Weather. We don't really get that, where I'm from."

[Open like a common room!]

suitably_heroic

Okay, so the weather on Fandom was slightly less bone-tinglingly cold than the mainland, but that was really all there was to be said for it. One thing it wasn't, for instance, was ideal weather for anyone to stand around in for prolonged periods of time.

Which was why the Powers That Be had decided it was the exact ideal time to have a fire drill. Loud noise rang through the dorms at exactly 2 AM; good morning, students.

Hope you had time to snag a coat.

[[ fire drill post! go go go! ]]

iceolatedqueen.livejournal.com

Elsa had woken up today knowing straightaway that her powers appeared to have gone into some sort of... remission or something. There was no frost in her bedsheets, there was no need for her usual 'conceal, don't feel,' mantra. And, in a fit of daring, she'd left her gloves on her nightstand before making her way out into the common room. If it was safe to be social today, she was going to make the most of it.

By some miracle, she'd figured out how to work the kettle (the fact that the plug looked about the right size to fit into the outlet had been a good hint), and she'd made herself some tea. She hadn't quite worked her way up to the point of turning on the television yet, but she had found a ball of yarn and a crochet hook, and while she'd never really tried crochet before, she seemed to be a good way along in making the first of a pair of long lace gloves. It was remarkable what a person could do with their hands when they weren't wearing thick gloves over them all of the time, apparently.

As she crocheted, she hummed a little to herself. Today was shaping up to be a pleasant day, and she'd worry about what was going on with her powers later.

[OOC: That moment when two people post the same common room at the same time. Changed to afternoon, and open!]

flickofthewrist

Besides his throat, Flick was pretty much feeling better. He'd felt good enough to walk his way into town to pick up some dinner and he felt good enough that, instead of eating in his room, he'd brought the Chinese food into the common room and taken a seat on one of the sofas.

When he flipped the television on, he immediately came upon some awards show and immediately decided that he wasn't going to be watching that because nope. He didn't want to watch a giant circle jerk no matter how funny anyone might be. Just not his thing.

So, while he forked some noodles into his mouth, his journey through the channels eventually landed him on a movie that he didn't recognize. Or, well, after watching it for a few minutes, he recognized the story it was based on but it was nothing that he remembered.

Well, he was curious now. Might as well take a look and maybe get a laugh or two while he ate his dinner.

[Open common room, of course. Couldn't help it, I came across this movie and had to use it in a post considering Sebastian ends up playing the Hatter too.]

Current Mood: uncomfortable

dollpocalypse

Topher wanted grilled cheese, but there weren't any spatulas in the kitchen.

He had options. He knew he had options. He could go out and get grilled cheese from Luke's or Mooby Land. He could order grilled cheese to be delivered, although that would take longer. He could go to another common room and look for spatulas there, which would require either ascending or descending stairs or spending an extended period of time waiting for the elevator.

Or he could just try not using a spatula, and seeing how that went.

Topher chose the last option.

What resulted was fairly painful for Topher's hands and not tremendously rewarding for his taste buds, because the sandwich wound up being fairly charred and the cheese didn't even melt properly. But the important part was the scientific takeaway from the whole experience: Spatulas were important.

And so were band-aids.

[[open, i guess?]]

bearmaidenfair

Cold weather didn't really bother Vider that much even before she became a berserker, being of pure Scandan stock and all, but there was cold and then there was cold. In light of the current situation, she'd decided to order in rather than venturing out in search of food--yes, the delivery person had to half-freeze, but at least they were being paid for it. She didn't know her way around the various different cuisines here that well yet, so she'd picked a few items off the Chinese place's menu and hoped for the best.

Her hopes had been rewarded when the guy handed her way more food than she'd ordered. What was she supposed to do with all of this?

((Open common room is open!))

nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com

It had been a terribly long day, but Eleanor couldn't sleep. The excitement from traveling five time zones and four decades, perhaps, or the nervous energy from not being on the run for the first time in days. She wasn't sure how to relax, and had wandered into some sort of communal space.

She hadn't watched television in years, although she hadn't realized the surface had quite so many channels. There had to be something on, with this many channels, didn't there?

And so, it was around midnight, and Eleanor Lamb was watching a program quite inexplicably titled OCTO ER. It seemed to be fashioned around the lives and times of a number of cepholopods working in a deep marine emergency room, though the plot seemed less concerned with medical emergencies than it did which octopodes were having carnal relations with each other.

Octopodes? Octopi? Maybe she'd wait for the show to mention it, and see which term was canonical.

(SO SO OPEN. Someone teach this girl that soapy dramas require popcorn! OCTO ER 4EVA. Idea hatched from a particularly hilarious typo to

furnaceface back in, erm, October.)

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Entries tagged with eleanor lamb

Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Evening

4th floor common room- Wednesday after classes

First Floor Lobby, Monday morning

Second Floor Common Room, Monday After Classes

Third Floor Common Room, Sunday afternoon

First Floor Parlor [Saturday evening]

First Floor Parlor, Saturday Afternoon

Dorm Front Lawn, Sunday Afternoon

Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Evening

The Roof, Saturday Evening

Sixth Floor Common Room, Saturday evening

Third Floor Common Room, Monday Afternoon

Third Floor Common Room, Thursday Night

Fourth Floor Common Room, Friday afternoon

Dorm Lawn, Tuesday into Wednesday Night

Third Floor Common Room, Saturday Afternoon

5th floor common room ; sunday night

Third Floor Common Room, Thursday Afternoon

Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Evening

Third Floor Common Room, Late Saturday Night

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