fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with freddie benson

Petra had come to the common room to watch TV while she did her nails, but she hadn't gotten quite as far as the 'doing her nails' part yet. This was because, while channel surfing for something to watch while doing her nails, she'd encountered a flashback. At first she just sort of stared at the TV screen, stunned to realize they still had boy bands in this dimension--she'd kind of thought they'd worn out their welcome years ago, and had frankly found that a relief--and momentarily insulted that the song implied that the only reason someone would wear makeup was "to cover up." Hello, maybe the fictional girl in the song just liked makeup. But then one of these babyfaced teenagers with hair that looked like a bunch of seagulls had attacked it earnestly sang that to prove he was right, he put it in a song, and the idea that being in a song made something right struck her as so funny the whole thing hit her at once, and she wound up laughing so hard tears ran down her face and she fell off the couch.

Okay. This wasn't exactly a flashback, although the terribleness of that hair was pretty familiar. There was the fact that, "You don't even dance!" as Petra hauled herself up via the coffee table to shout at the screen before collapsing with the giggles once again.

So, yes. Anyone entering the fifth floor common room, or simply passing by, would find a British boy band singing on the TV and Petra West laughing herself sick. Business as usual?

((I had to. Open common room is open. Come mock One Direction with Petra! Or defend them. Whatever floats your character's boat.))

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie sometimes should not be left to his own devices.

With the combined power of garbage bags, duct tape, and industrial sized bottles of, erm, personal lubricant (hey, he was the iCarly technical producer, this was not his first time needing that sort of thing), the entire hallway was now a giant slip-n-slide.

Some mattresses on either end made sure no one would end up dying.

For now, though, he was just going to be in his swim trunks and penguin sliding up and down the hallway. Because he could.

"Pantalones!" he cried, because that's how Freddie Benson rolled.

[ooc: Open to anyone still in the dorms! Chaos cleared with the admins.]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Bruce was watching cable news. Nothing but talk of financial meltdowns, political bickering, angry old people yelling at each other, and something about cute animals every fifteen minutes or so.

It wasn't terribly exciting or interesting or anything. It was exactly what the night called for. Because dear god, Bruce needed a quiet night in after the way his week had been going.

With that in mind, he was drinking water, eating some crackers, and wearing a plain black hoodie. Nothing exciting at all. This was a matter of willpower, and nobody had more willpower than Bruce Wayne.

Well, by definition any given Green Lantern probably did. But screw those guys, willpower wasn't even an emotion.

[OOC: Seriously, screw those guys.]

hurtingzeebo

Sam . . . was not so much looking forward to tonight's broadcast. Why?

Well, Carly was in Yakima, tonight. Which meant Freddie was cohosting. With sketches he wrote.

Sam double checked that Baggles, the trashbag filled with yogurt with a face drawn on it, was in place on a swivel chair, ready to fill in if need be.

She had a feeling she would definitely be needing him.

[ooc: OCD is up, and the post is open! Those who wander into the proper threads may well be recruited to do something involving food in semi-solid states!]

hurtingzeebo

Sam had laid down tarps on the rec room floor and hung more from the walls, today, which couldn't possibly bode well. She was currently setting up two tables on either side of the room and laying out an assortment of warm -- not hot, she'd learned that lesson after the last big Puckett family dinner -- dishes. There was fried chicken, grilled chicken, chicken liver pate. Chicken meatballs, chicken salad, chicken alfredo, orange chicken, sweet and sour chicken, chicken soup, chicken gravy, pulled chicken, chicken fingers, and even a couple whole roast chickens.

It was really, really, really, really hard for her not to just dig in right away. Everyone should admire the hell out of her restraint.

But, dammit, she was determined to actually get to have a chicken fight on the show, tonight.

[ooc: The post is open and the food smells delightful!]

ihavediabetes.livejournal.com

Feeling particularly social today, Stacey had gone into the common room and made popcorn. She'd even made sure there was ~~moddable~~ popcorn seasoning available in case anyone else wanted some, and she could even put some on hers and not have to worry about it. Go Team Diabetes!

With snacks achieved, she found a seat and turned on the TV, and found that the channel was still on those same orange people from class. And when she went to change the channel... the batteries wouldn't work in the remote.

"...This is not funny," she decided, hitting the buttons on the remote again in case it decided to work this time.

[Idek, guys. Come on in!]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Given the weather and Freddie's insistence, today they stuck to the rec room. He didn't want to risk his equipment in case the weather turned weird.

"So do I have to worry about you two getting PDA all over my webshow?" Carly teased via the webfeed from Seattle.

Freddie just laughed. He'd let Sam deal with that one.

[ooc: OCD ~~a-coming~~ up. Open to anyone and everyone! ...well, anyone that could end up in the dorms, at least.]

hurtingzeebo

Sam could say she was in the rec room to check on things for this week's iCarly.

Actually, she was just bored.

She bopped along, humming to herself and nodding her head to a rhythm only she was aware of. Well, until an actual beat started, seemingly coming from nowhere. Sam might find this odd, except she was distracted by the sudden urge to freestyle.

"We’re rockin’ out here in the rec room, yo,
We’re dancing out high and we’re dancing out low.
Oh, there is a rug and it’s really kinda pretty,
You know it’s really good and you know it’s kinda gritty.
( Aimless freestyle is surprisingly long )

Sam finished kissing her camera phone and tucked it back into her pocket.

"RANDOM DANCING!" crowed a voice from wherever the beat box rhythm had come from, followed by some generic techno.

Far be it for Sam not to oblige.

[ooc: because freestyling about nothing is way more Sam than Jennette McCurdy's country-pop tracks. Open rec room is open!]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie Benson had sat down to watch the DVD he'd been handed earlier in the week. It was Petey Sci-Fi, and he really didn't have much of an idea what he was in for.

When the movie started with a disembodied lips singing, he was certain he was not prepared for this at all. He hugged a pillow to his chest and tried to ignore the voice of his mother in the back of his head asking him what exactly he thought he was doing.

[ooc: Open post, as it is a common room! Help the boy not feel traumatized or something...]

onapalebicycle.livejournal.com

The fourth floor common room had been transformed. Do not ask how the best talk show hosts ever had found a disco ball to hang from the ceiling, one that showed off their matching white double-breasted pantsuits. They were here to sing about politics and chew bubble gum, and they were all out of gum.

There were chairs arranged in a semi-circle, for the important political guests, brothers Barry Gibb and Robin Gibb (also known as the surviving two thirds of the best effing band ever, the Bee Gees) faced away from the studio audience. As if on cue, Barry and Robin spun around, and began to sing.

"Here we are
In a room full of strangers
Discussing politics
And the issues of the day
Well, I want to talk to you
Though you may not want me to
I'm still gonna talk to you
I don't care what you say

Talkin' it up
On the Barry Gibb talk show
Talkin' bout issues
Talkin' bout real important issues
Talkin' it up
On the Barry Gibb talk show
Talkin' bout politics
In this crazy, crazy town
Oh yeah
Yeah yeah
Yeah yeah"

So maybe George and Squall had been gremlin-bit earlier this evening and thought they were washed-up disco superstars now hosting a belligerent talk show about politics. That might be cool, too.

(~~There will be OCD for this.~~ OCD UP! Come be a guest on the show, or a member of the studio audience, or stand in the back with a camera! JOIN US.)

Current Mood: chipper

hurtingzeebo

So Sam was a TA now.

That couldn't end well.

She came up to the roof right around sunset with a golf club and a bucket full of little foam Nerf balls. She set herself up at the edge of the roof, peering over for any passersby. Then she set the first ball on the roof, warmed up her hips, and took a swing.

"Fore!"

She looked over again to see if she'd managed to hit someone.

"Damn, just a squirrel."

[ooc: yes, Sam is hitting foam balls at people and things from the roof. They are soft and smooshy! Open! Any threads that aren't

randomspanish take place prior to

randomspanish.]

wasthecuteone

It was Petra's birthday, and she was throwing her own party, thank you very much, because she deserved a party, and also cake. There were streamers and balloons, a cake she'd picked up at J,GoB (She didn't realize it yet, but the inside looked like this. It would be a delightful surprise) and ice cream, along with chips and dips and plenty of other ~~moddable~~ snacks and drinks. There was a ~~handwavey~~ party playlist pumping from Petra's iPod's speaker dock, and there was a ball pit. What more could any party want? Petra was pretty sure the answer was nothing. Come on, ball pit.

The birthday girl was wearing a green velvet party dress and her sparkly gold boots. She had on black leggings under the dress, though, because she was totally getting in that ball pit and didn't want to flash anyone. Especially, you know, considering, but mostly just in general.

((Open party is open to all!))

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Popcorn. Nuts. Cookies. Pretzels. Chips. A liter of Diet Coke. And one of those Barry Plodder movies on TV.

Hello, Denial, Kenzi's old friend. Nom nom nom noooom.

glacial_queen

Today, the Reserves met outside. The leaders figured that people might need a little fresh air and the chance to move around a bit. There was the traditional table of ~~moddable~~ snacks and beverages for anyone to partake of. Assuming they had the appetite.

"Today, we're going to be talking about how to deal with an invisible enemy," Karla said, because they enjoyed being topical. "Of all the senses we have, most of us rely far too heavily on out sense of sight. That hinders us greatly when it comes to enemies that are invisible, or when it comes to fighting in the dark or when we're fighting enemies from ambush."

"Or when you battle disease, that some might have given you purposefully," Dolf said quietly. He hadn't quite managed to disassociate any of this from the Crimson Death since Cally's message yesterday. "There are many kinds of enemies that can't be seen, and not all of them are things you can hit. Or they might be things you can see, but that creep in when you least expect it, take someone and then go." Experience with that? Never. "But there are ways to deal with this. Keeping watch, and even just knowing."

"From a martial perspective, it's important to utilize your other senses as much as you can, to avoid letting a lack of a visible opponent become a handicap," Wesley added. "In an ordinary fight, one might not even realize all the clues provided to you by simply listening and being present in your physical space -- but when you're no longer able to see what you're fighting, it becomes that much more imperative to take advantage of these things."

Off to the side, there were basketballs and strips of cloth set out. "For martial and support," Wesley continued, "we'd like you to pair up and take turns approaching one another. One of you should wear the blindfold and try to -- gently -- toss the basketball at the other, using the rest of your senses to the best of your ability to try to locate them, while the other tries to be as quiet as possible. You can trade roles when you're finished."

"For magic," Karla added, "we're going to do the same thing, only use power to try to deflect or shield against the ball while blindfolded. If your powers don't work that way, we can talk about other ways to practice using your gifts while unable to see."

[Co-written with the usual suspects!]

unburnt-queen.livejournal.com

Dany had gotten another letter. She was now missing two different bloodriders, and at this rate, all of Westeros would be gone in days. And she didn't know how to make it better, or what to do, or how to fix any of it. And after speaking to Chuck, she came to the realization that no one else was coping much better than she was.

So she decided to do what she knew how: she would provide. She couldn't cook, no, but she could just barely work a phone, so it wasn't long before the common room was filled with Chinese food. Dany opted to eat with a fork rather than the silly sticks, of course, but it was filling and warm and good, and she pressed buttons on the television until she found something light and easy to watch.

It made nothing better. But it helped, the tiniest bit.

[oooopen!]

hurtingzeebo

"No, I'm telling you, the frog is Freddie." Sam held the Freddie-frog up near the camera so Carly could get a good look.

"Is this like that time he tried to convince me you were a badger?"

"No, it's like that time I was a badger."

"Or the time you were a pony."

"Yes. Except he can't seem to talk and has no interest in ham."

"Ponies don't eat ham."

"Well this pony did!"

"Whatever! So you can't do the Curmudgeonly Carrot sketch?"

"Nope. I found a carrot costume for him, but he keeps hopping out of it. I told him it was unprofessional, but I don't think he cares."

"I guess frogs are like that."

"Yep."

It might be an interesting show, tonight.

[ooc: and no OCD since this is going up super late. If anyone wants to do some iCarly-ing with Sam and Freddie-the-Frog, feel free to just ping in!]

hurtingzeebo

Sam spread a tarp across the floor, then checked the squirt guns. Once that was done, she went over, opened up a five gallon bucket, and took a deep whiff.

"Oh gravy. I love so."

Yes, iCarly this week was going to involve gravy and squirt guns. While the laundry machines were refusing to work.

No one had ever accused Sam of thinking ahead.

[ooc: open! Those who wander in might be recruited to appear in the webshow. iCarly officially wavers any responsibility for any cleaning bills resulting from Sam's bucket o' gravy. Side effects may include large stains and hilarity. Use only as directed. See store for details. Offer expires eventually.]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Today was going to be an extra special episode of iCarly. Don't ask how he got convinced to do this or why he was doing it at all, but Freddie was dressed as a turkey. Which made doing the normal tech checks a little odd.

"I still think it's too early to be doing Thanksgiving stuff," Freddie grumbled as he checked the shutter on the camera.

"I'm sorry, all I heard was 'gobble gobble gobble'," Carly teased via the feed from Seattle.

"...this is gonna be a long night," Freddie said.

[ooc: ~~Plz wait for OCD!~~ Open post, open show!]

hurtingzeebo

Sam arrived in the rec room straight from the Homecoming Carnival, carrying her water pistol, a small smear of poutine gravy on her cheek.

"Alright suckas, let's get this party started!"

She was maybe just at touch hyper.

[ooc: OCD is a go-go. The post is, as always, open to anyone who wants to wander in. Come on down and get your fifteen seconds of internet fame!

unburnt-queen.livejournal.com

There were many things at which Daenerys was quite skilled. She'd become a great rider during her marriage to Drogo. She was a lovely dancer, when inspired or asked. She mothered dragons, which took quite a different sort of patience than most people probably expected.

One thing she could not do, however, was cook. She had simply never had to.

Tuesday found her in the common room, trying her hand at it all the same. She was starting small -- she'd found some bread and vegetables, and had skewered them on the tips of forks and knives. She'd removed the grate-like thing over one of the small fires on the stove (and lighting the burner itself had been an experiment of several minutes) and was now attempting to toast the bread and roast the vegetables.

The dragons were outside, asleep in the sun (she assumed -- that was where she had left them) while they still could do such a thing, and she wanted to learn to use fire without them, anyway. So while she'd managed to set a few things on fire already, she'd put them out quickly and easily using her hand. Being the Unburnt had advantages she hadn't realized.

[common room open! come play before she sets her hair on fire or sets off the smoke alarm, omg.]

its-theclimb.livejournal.com

The thing about doing the Hoedown Throwdown in front of an audience was that it tended to exhaust a person. So while Miley and Lilly had planned to spend the evening going out and being social, there was a slight change of plans when they got up to the third floor.

And that was when the loco hot cocoa recipe came in handy. They made two mugs of that, popped a bag of popcorn with movie theater butter, changed into pajamas, and conquered the couch in the common room. A movie was on (one of Miley's favorites), but they were talking through most of it. And if Lilly was a tad bit unenthusiastic at first, she seemed to warm up once they got to the trading-stories part of the evening.

"No way," Miley said emphatically, shaking her head. "No way. Oliver did not do that."

[[Open common room full of chipper teenage girls!]]

angelo_wings

Rinoa was sitting on the couch in the fifth-floor common room, surrounded by several thick books. Most of them were propped open with torn papers crammed inside, with scrawled notes about sovereignty and the illegal use of force. If it looked like she was doing research, well ... she was. Just not for school.

She was also in the process of becoming very upset at the cable channels she could find. There was a History channel, and it was showing ... something about dangerous roads. That was history? Seriously, where were the shows about military invasions?! Okay, fine, there had to be other educational channels, right?

She flipped through and found a show about a pregnant stripper, a way too tanned medium, some weird shocking incidents caught on tape, and a really detailed show about how to live off the grid, which -- while fascinating -- was not exactly relevant, and was somehow the only one that even counted as remotely educational.

She was seriously going to write a letter to ... to ... whoever was in charge of educational television, to tell them how badly they were doing with it and make them try harder to fix it, except she didn't have time right now. She'd settle for flipping channels and glaring at it and maybe hoping people would come in that she could commiserate with. Or else ask about military strategy. One or the other.

(open like a CR, bbs)

Current Mood: cranky

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie had something new, something amazing.

A Trudge Master '51 model train. And he could tell you exactly what made it differ from a '52 model. He was setting up the track on a coffee table in the common room, the TV showing a rerun of a Lightning Bug episode. Not that Freddie planned on running the train. He just wanted to see how it looked all hooked up.

He missed his train club from back in Seattle. The rest of The Training Bros were probably all having fun without him. But he had a Trudge Master '51, so that made up for it just a bit.

[ooc: Open common room! Oh canon, thank you for making Freddie even nerdier.]

hurtingzeebo

Sam had managed to successfully avoid Freddie for another week, and had managed to avoid thinking about the whole "we kissed!" thing for almost that whole time, right up until it was time to get ready to come down stairs for iCarly.

Dammit, why did he have to be somewhat more mature and less nubbish, now? Why'd the kiss have to be good?

As though life wasn't confusing enough.

She bounced around in a circle to warm up, a thoughtful look on her face. If anyone spotted said look, she'd just tell them she was pondering the wonders of ham.

[ooc: OCD is up! As always, anyone is welcome to wander in before, during, or after the broadcast. Those during may be asked to do something excessively silly.]

wwiii

There was more than a decent amount of pizza waiting for people at the meeting this afternoon. Possibly because, for a pair of rich kids, they still clung to the food of their people: New York Style pizza.

“Hi, everyone,” Tony said, nodding at the group. “I’m Tony, if you don’t already know. I’m not a Skrull, clone, or Life Model Decoy if you know me from somewhere else.”

Look, it came up a few times already.

"And I'm Warren," added the winged boy standing next to him. "And I don't wear tights, before you even think about asking." It had also come up a few times already. "And we're going to be your fraternity leaders this semester. Which, so far, has mostly meant that we get to fill out the paperwork, order pizza, and chase the girls away at the door."

It was an important job, boys. You should be thanking them for this.

“So... welcome to the frat,” Tony said. “Today we just wanted to hang out and get to know each other.”

"Since I'm pretty sure you're all kind of introduced out, we're going to make this one simple," Warren continued. "Let's hear your names, and then what sort of group activity you'd like to see organized if you had a million dollars at your disposal to do anything you wanted to. And then you can help yourselves to the pizza and we can kick one another's butts at Foosball or something."

[Open to all our Frat Boys! All girls will be stopped at the door and sadfaced at by a sleepy rich boy with feathers.]

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Soooo, Kenzi had gotten the video she'd asked for from Topher... of various shots of Wes while he was teaching her about guns. And put it to a soundtrack. Then hooked up a DVD player to the TV in the Common Room and concealed it. It was on an infinite loop.

So, at random moments, Kenzi would amuse herself while watching The Spy Amnesia Movie on the Science Fiction channel by hitting the remote button, and having Wes interrupt it with his campaign.

[establishy, open, and likely to be repeated in other CR's if she thinks she can get away with it. Wes's video is nowhere near as complete or complicated as that one, but is mostly shots of him being badass and showing off guns to Kenzi, interspersed with "Vote Wes! For Fandom StuCo! Guarding Your Welfare!"]

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!]

whenshewasnice

Natalie was pretty sure there had been sofas in the common room when she'd come in a few times over the weekend. Normal, common room-y sofas. She was pretty sure.

Right now, though? Nests. Just nests. This was probably part of that oh-so-wacky Fandom weirdness that she'd been hearing about, right?

So far, it wasn't really impressing her. It was more of an inconvenience than anything. Still, she went about making her oatmeal, and thanked whatever higher power happened to be at work on the island that a table and a few chairs had been spared from whatever this nest thing was supposed to be about.

She leafed through some random magazine while she had breakfast, and hoped nothing important had suffered from a transformation.

[ooc: Open like a common room! A common room with nests!]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie had enjoyed the welcome picnic yesterday quite a bit. He'd even met a cute girl, which was a definite plus. But today he was in his floor's common room, trying out a very special recipe from home.

Spaghetti tacos.

He was making more than enough to share, but for right now he was chilling in the kitchen as he ladled out the spaghetti into the taco shells.

The TV was tuned to an episode of Celebrities Underwater, which Freddie was also happy to find on the TVs here. It was like a little slice of home. Minus Carly, Spencer, and his mom.

"Wow, I had no idea Flea could hold his breath that long," he remarked, filling another delicious spaghetti taco.

[ooc: Open post! Spaghetti tacos are just that: taco shells filled with spaghetti. Canonically delicious.]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Honey Badger Sam in tow, Freddie set up everything in the rec room to prepare for the show tonight.

Carly, on the computer feed from Seattle, was a little skeptical.

"So, Sam is a 'badger'," she said, actually air-quoting with her fingers. "And this Miley girl is going to sit in for her?"

"Miley's awesome," Freddie said. "She'll be a... more perky, brunette Sam."

Carly's skeptical look was skeptical.

"I'm serious!" Freddie retorted.

"As serious as you are about her turning into a 'badger'," Carly retorted, air-quoting again.

"Badgers are real, Carly!" Freddie exclaimed. "That's not the part to 'air-quote'." He even air-quoted himself at that.

[ooc: ~~OCD first, plz~~ Open post! Interlopers and interrupters welcome!]

its-theclimb.livejournal.com

So Miley was having an issue with the rather noticable lack of world-class dance studios on the island. She needed to practice her choreography, and more importantly, she needed to let off steam. So that brought her and her giant pink iPod speakers to the roof in dance clothes, where she proceeded to blast one of her songs as loud as the volume would allow and get to practicing.

She had definitely needed a good workout for a while, and before long she was sweating and too hyped up on adrenaline to even think about stopping.

Enjoy the crazy loud music, Fandom.

[[Open roof, which is uncharacteristically devoid of emo!]]

withasword.livejournal.com

No more calls today for Kate, for which she was really, really grateful.

Today she'd done nothing in particular, and looked set to continue with that, complete with pizza, and the apparently rare ability to tune the TV in the common room onto something that wasn't a talk show, infomercials or trippy cartoons. It was a fucking miracle. She'd managed to find a ~~meta~~ Terminator marathon. Enough about this world was the same, that she recognised some old movies.

She was here, and she had no plans to move for a while. This was her celebration, see Greg?

[[ooopen common room!]]

Current Mood: calm

randomspanish.livejournal.com

There had been a lot complicating the last few broadcasts of iCarly, so Freddie was more than happy to get things set up in the rec room. He had props at the ready, computer feeds were set, and he'd even gotten some pizzas from a large dude who was wearing a skirt to set out so he could lure in ~~poor schmucks~~ potential guests!

Of course, that was assuming that Sam didn't eat them all, first.

"Okay, good news," Carly said on the feed from Seattle. "We do have enough gravy for the thing with Gibby. Spencer didn't use it all."

"What was Spencer even doing with all that--" Freddie started.

"We will not speak of it," Carly interrupted.

Ah, the good old problems of iCarly.

[ooc: ~~Plz wait for OCD!~~ And we're open for fun! Anyone is welcome to join in.]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie was in mild panic mode. He had everything set-up properly, extra cameras on hand, extra lighting, tons of plates of cinnamon and sugared toast were about just so that Hannah Montana wouldn't be more than two steps away from some if she wanted any.

He was so ready for this, even if he didn't feel it.

"...who is this North Dakota lady, any way?" Gibby asked via the feed from Seattle.

"Gibby!" Carly barked.

"Whaaaaat?" Gibby protested. Hey, the poor kid didn't have cable. He didn't know these things.

"She's very important," Freddie told Gibby. "So be on your... best Gib-havior."

[ooc: ~~OCD coming up!~~ Post is open! Expecting some, any are welcome to wander in to the show!]

glacial_queen

Karla and Warren had celebrated their return to their proper forms in the way that many teenagers would find appropriate: they'd headed back to the modern mainland, found a toy store, and bought a gaming system (or three). Along with the games they bought to go along with said system, they also picked up a few guitars, a keyboard, a drum set, and two microphones.

Once back in the rec room, the rest of the afternoon had been spent setting up the systems and buying every single song available for the game. Waiting for them to finish downloading actually took longer than the initial setting up, even taking in Karla's attempts to 'help'.

But now the system was set up, the songs were ready, and the instruments prepared.

Fandom High? Get ready to rock.

[Open for anyone who wants to play.

not_a_parakeet modded to an ungodly degree with permission! Just a warning about SP and Karla's threads--I will be AFK all day, but if you're willing to wait until Thursday that's fine by me.]

dabblinginbitch.livejournal.com

Ramona had flung herself onto a couch in the common room, in the interest of actually being social. Now, granted, while she had the television tuned to reruns of Rescued by the Alarm -- because who didn't love reliving the early nineties? Such large phones! -- she did have her nose buried in a book as she kept half an ear on the TV.

Look, the last Barry Plodder movie was coming out in a matter of like, a week, and while she wasn't a super-fan or anything, she had to try and remember exactly what happened when those kids weren't just walking around in the woods all the time. That was all they seemed to do for like, half that book. So she was refreshing herself on the events that took place in the latter half of the book, because she didn't want to be caught off-guard again like she had when she saw the last movie and that cute goblin thing had bit it.

[totally open, omg. I am totally watching SBtB right now, too.]

knight-fatali.livejournal.com

Thanks to the care package that had ~~handwavingly~~ arrived from Fuijin on Friday, and the pretty little bottle of glowing liquid it had contained, Seifer had slept for damn near 48 hours, and felt much better for it. This meant the tall blond had slept through the welcome picnic the day before and had absolutely no idea that there was newbies on the island.

Of course, that still wouldn't have stopped him from standing at the counter in the small kitchen area, in just his boxers, slowly eating a bowl of cereal while he watched television. He had no idea what started this world's fascination with these 'reality' shows, but he was quickly understanding the addiction. Especially this one about those stupid people from Jersey or something.

The orange skin was kind of terrifying. And the hair. Definitely the hair.

hurtingzeebo

Sam was bored. This was a rather dangerous situation, without Carly around to keep her entertained and mostly out of trouble. At the moment, she was just dealing with it by watching the Food Network, but the way she was side-eying the door to the common room hinted at possible troublesome antics on the way.

She wondered if she still had that paintball blow gun stashed away, somewhere.

[ooc: open common room is open. Let's give radio something to report!]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie was totally excited to get his big sibling onto iCarly, even if it was a pre-recorded segment. But at least this way, Wesley was protected from Sam.

Assuming Sam didn't find them at the shooting range, of course.

Freddie had his A/V cart with all his equipment, and his camera in his hands. All hummed to himself as he awaited Wesley's appearance. Unfortunately for Freddie, it was a Ginger Fox song that was stuck in his head.

[ooc: Open post, expecting one!]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Freddie had not expected to exit his cabin to find all his A/V equipment back by the campfire. He really had not expected that it was all still in perfect working order (and only had some cosmetic damage in scratches and gnaw marks). Of course, once he started poking at his laptop, he discovered the one thing he could never have expected.

The gremlins had stolen his equipment in order to make, and upload, their own episode of iCarly.

He stared in horror at his laptop screen as the two gremlins in wigs (one brunette, one blond) danced randomly, gnawed on a TV remote, and even did a pathetic play.

Of course, none of the dialog was intelligible.

"...How are we going to explain this to the internet?" he whined, out loud.

[ooc: Open campfire!]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Fredward Benson had pulled out all his A/V equipment and set up near the campfire again, so that Sam and he could film ther parts of the weekly iCarly web show. Of course, this experience could never go entirely smoothly, and this week Freddie was having trouble with the feed from Seattle.

"Are you entirely certain you didn't press any buttons, Gibby?" he said to the video of the feed from Seattle.

"I don't know, I don't have cable," Gibby retorted on the other end.

"Well something has the video feed upside down," Freddie said.

[ooc: OCD ~~coming~~ up and running, Wanderers-by are more than welcome, though may at least be asked to participate in random dancing.]

longislandiceme

Right, so. Bobby was clearly making up for lost campfire time by following Alex's example from the other day and dragging just about every sort of camping-related food out to the campfire. He may be somewhat hopeless in the kitchen (well, even that wasn't entirely true- he could make a passable cupcake so long as no fish or other disgusting ingredients snuck in) but he could roast a mean marshmallow, damnit.

[ooc: OPEN LIKE A CAMPFIRE.]

wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com

Today Wesley felt like being outside. He didn't much mind where exactly, which was why he ended up wandering around the campgrounds, weaving between cabins in search of something to do. It had been a little while since he'd managed to get himself up and about, but today was the day and he was eager to make good use of it. The weather was nice and there was social interaction to be had.

Antsy? Him? Not at all.

[[oooopen!]]

hurtingzeebo

Sam was still attempting to juggle -- possibly a dangerous proposition, considering there was a roaring campfire not far away.

"Are we sure we want to have an actual campfire?" Carly asked, ever the more thoughtful and responsible of the two cohosts.

"What?" said Sam. "It's not like Spencer's anywhere near it."

She felt this was a valid point.

[ooc: ~~just a sec for some~~ OCD is up! Wanderers-by are more than welcome, though may at least be asked to participate in random dancing.]

vanillajello

So, Kate had been pretty pissed off over having let that pale guy escape earlier. For a bunch of reasons. She was telling herself his words weren't one of them.

Luckily the building offered more than enough distraction from that. She'd been here a month or so ago, just for a few days until she'd skipped to the fun side of town. It hadn't been like this, though: this place here was alive. It smelled utterly human, like a bunch of breathers going about their puny little lives, oblivious to the danger now right outside their doors. It was intoxicating.

Later, Kate wanted to see if the rest of the town was the same but for now, she was soaking up the smell of humanity by prowling the hallways. Occasionally, she knocked on a random door just to see if there was someone amusing there.

For now, she considered the dorms her own personal playground.

[ooc: OH SO OPEN. Feel free to run into her in any hallway, or mod your door being knocked on. She's not going to bite anyone (at least not without proper OOC permission omg), but she is going to be hella creepy at everyone, because it's what you do when you're a teen vampire.]

randomspanish.livejournal.com

Instead of the roof, this time Sam and Freddie had set up shop in the first floor rec room. Freddie had even set up a green screen for extra wackiness, along with all of his technical equipment so that they could both sync with Carly in Seattle and broadcast out across the web.

"Okay," Freddie said, pressing a few keys on his laptop. "We should be good to go in just a few minutes. You ready there in Seattle?"

"Freddie, which way do I point this camera?" Spencer said through the live feed from the West Coast. Freddie looked at the feed and saw a close-up of Spencer's mouth.

"The other way," he said, flatly.

[ooc: ~~OCD coming~~. Open! Mainly for the co-host, but if anyone wants to walk in on the broadcast, they're welcome!]

hurtingzeebo

"I'm not late!" Sam announced as she hurried in from the party, still clutching a handful of chips and a tropical beverage (not booze, she was good and avoided that). "It's the time zones! The island's doing it!"

Or . . . something.

She skidded to a stop in the middle of the roof, stuffed the rest of the chips in her mouth and started to chug her juice before looking at Freddie. "Is it set up? Is it working? Do we have Carly?"

She might be just a tad hyper. She hadn't liked missing doing the show last week. The internet missed her!

[ooc: primarily for

randomspanish and iCarly's live broadcast, but it's the roof. Anyone interrupting may be hushed/drafted into the show, though.]

godgavemecable.livejournal.com

The drawback to having both his workshops early on in the week, Toby was finding, was that without something to do, the rest of the week got kind of boring. Funny how even with no classes at all, boredom had never been a problem when he'd been on the streets. Still, he'd take boredom over being cold and hungry any day.

So he'd wandered over to the common room, snagged someone's sandwich they'd left in the fridge and a half-full bag of chips he'd found tucked in the back of one of the cupboards, and flipped through the channels until he stumbled across one playing a rather distinctive theme along with an opening text-crawl.

Something seemed wrong, though- he'd seen these movies tons of times, and none of this was familiar- he frowned and checked the channel listing. "Space Battles: Part 1?" he frowned. "What the hell?"

necroslacker

Exploring Iceland had been fun enough (though he was sure his skin was still red in places from that hot spring) but Sam was really feeling the whole slacker in the guise of a couch potato thing tonight. He'd done well enough with that gig in Seattle, he figured he could transfer it to this place. Yeah, he wasn't the same slacker he was but he still knew how to loaf with the best of them.

Really, all that was required was some food (easily solved by ordering Chinese takeout, thank you island food places) and something good on the television. That was a little harder since there was a lot of crap on these days but Sam eventually settled on some cooking show that made him miss Ramon's mom's cooking.

Maybe he'd call Ramon and Frank a little later on and try to grease the wheels to see if he could get a care package sent out here or something. For now, the Chinese food would do.

[Open common room, open post]

Current Mood: lazy

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.

Fandom High RPG

About the Game

---       Master Game Index
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---       Fandom High School
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Off-Island Travel
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Once Upon a Time...
---       FH Wishverse AU

Out-of-Character Comms

---       Main OOC Comm
---       Plot Development
---       OOC-but-IC Fun

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Disclaimer

Fandom High is a not-for-profit text-based game/group writing exercise, featuring fictional characters and settings from a variety of creators, used without permission but for entertainment purposes only.

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