Fandom High Dormitories

So Jeff's flight wouldn't be leaving until tomorrow (that was the earliest he could get back to London, 1989) and Jeff's room was full of things that weren't Jeff's anymore. He couldn't really sleep well there, because there was supposed to be someone in the bed and there wasn't, and he couldn't sit in there, either, because Turtle might be there, and he didn't know what to say.

So Jeff was camping out in the common room, staring listlessly out in front of him, draped all over a chair. He had a hangover, but it meant little in the face of sheer, shell-shocked depression.

He lifted up the remote and turned the station to Beachview, but even women running around in bathing suits weren't helping.

[ open, of course! ]

The door to 513 creaked open, then slammed shut.

Jeff grabbed for his underwear. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. "Nudity!" he called out, to no one in particular, "I can't escape it!" His sheer terror seeped down into the carpet below him (at least, he had the idea that it was) and as soon as he stopped being rooted to the ground, he started running.

"Pants!" he cried, "All I've got are pants! I always knew this would happen! It's the Apocalypse! Open your closets!"

And so, he thundered across the hallway, and, after a while, down the stairs. "Closets!"

[ ooopen, of course, for anyone who wants to run into him! ]

It had been entirely too long since Jeff last took a moment (or five, or maybe a day) to watch some of his absolute favorite movies. Old favorites such as The Globule were on the menu, of course, but he was also hoping to catch sight of some of those new vampire movies he'd heard about.

So he had his feet propped up on the table, a bowl of popcorn in his hands, and people screaming liberally on the television. Life was good.

[ open like an open common room! ]

It was reasonably early in the morning, and so a reasonably early Jeff was reasonably happily walked by a reasonably large dog on the grounds. Nana bounced cheerfully on her paws; Jeff scrambled not so cheerfully behind her, clinging tenaciously to her leash.

Thunk.

Something bounced off his head, causing him to slip and let go of the leash. "..." Jeff spun in place, searching for whatever had just--

Thunk.

He nearly went through his knees, his hands grasping for his head. "Is it oranges again?!" he demanded futilly of the sky, "I thought we just did those!"

Thunk thunk thunk.

Nana was reasonably having the best day of her life, cavorting with the drop bears and barking like an enthusiastically mad dog while her owner whined pitifully into the ground, shielding his head from the unstoppable onslaught of bears. "Worse than oranges," he whimpered. "Cuddly bears of death!"

[ open, but with some sp warning! ]

Jeff had acquired crisps for the day's endeavour. He'd maybe gone a little bit overboard, leaving several horizontal surfaces covered in bags (including Nana's poor pink head, which stayed, moping, on the floor) and some bottles of soda.

However, the one thing he was truly interested in was the television. He had the remote, and he was using it to flip through the channels, trying to will images of the Portugal - Czech Republic game into being.

Stupid timezones. It had to be on any minute now.

[ open! ...yes, i know the game hasn't actually started yet. place yer bets ]

It was early.

It was really really early.

Too early for Jeff to be in the common room, watching more old horror movies. He was snoozing a little bit; and upon close inspection, one might be able to notice the fact that it was a little hard for him to move, considering the very large Saint Bernard who was literally sleeping on his legs.

[ open like a common room, y0 ]

There was a stack of horror movies by the television.

And a couple Britt Ekland ones. Just to even it all up.

Jeff was seated on the couch, surrounded by soda and popcorn, and holding a very large binder of something or other.

He was prepared. Very prepared. Capital Jeff Prepared.

[ oooopen, bouts of SP later ]

There was an air of menace hanging over the common room. An eau de danger, if you please. As if dust particles should be floating around and very masculine man in large hats and spurs should move into view to do battle at any moment.

Instead, Jeff ambled into the room, holding a stack of DVDs close to his body. "You are not beating me," he informed his opponent firmly. "I am the king of these movies."

Andrew snorted and hugged his own stack of DVDs closer to his side. Reaching up to adjust his sunglasses he replied, "You may be the king of those movies, but they are of a lesser kingdom - a kingdom with rocky soil where everyone herd scrawy sheep and eats tiny potatoes and stuff. My movies are the stuff of legend. Empires rise and fall at the whim of these films."

"That's not true," Jeff countered, gesturing wildly, "Mine have empires too, and they've got puppies in them! And naked women screaming. And really big monsters who can eat your head and still return back home in time for supper. Legends are built on these movies! Legends of globules chasing girls into cars that explode under the force of a million killer potatoes! Your films are no match for the killer potatoes."

"My films are going to rain down phytophthora infestans on your film." He nodded, trying to exude an air of cool. "That's, um, potato blight," he added.

Jeff just pointed a warning finger in his face. They sat down on the couch. It was weirdly coordinated.

[ wait for the geeky, geeky ocd online ]

Okay, so he'd managed to get his hands on some new clothes on the mainland, but trousers were still a matter of principle to Jeff. Having suspected Nana of hiding said item of clothing up on the roof for some time now, he returned to the scene of the crime to find them.

Together with Nana, of course. He scolded her every five minutes while he searched.

Being a dog, she had no idea why she was being punished, so she gave him the puppy eyes instead and wagged her tail a lot.

[ open! ]