fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with kenzi

dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com

So. She was really, obviously,stupid to think that things would be different here, right? Like...she could just have friends here, and be happy, and oh, god, last week she'd had a party and people had come and no one had made fun of her or paid her at all, and she had a homecoming date, and --

Well. Probably not, anymore. Olive was back to feeling just as ostracized as she had back in Ojai. And it wasn't even that she was embarrassed about what she'd done -- that was a little bit of it, sure. But the reason she was up here on the roof, crying, her knees tucked up to her chest -- and crap, now the cliches were following her, too -- was that she'd gotten used to things just being...normal here. And now the whole thing had followed her after all, and there was a common room of people she actually cared about laughing at her all trussed up in lingerie, who all knew about all of the lying.

So, yeah. Cliche or not, she would just sit here and feel sorry for herself, and then run back down to her room and pack her things before Karolina could notice she was gone. Or something. That didn't seem like the most intelligent course of action, but she couldn't think clearly at the moment.

[totally open, obviously.]

dollpocalypse

Well, around five on Thursday evening, Topher learned that Portalocity officially sucked harder than he had ever suspected, because they'd somehow managed to jostle his luggage on his return trip from Africa badly enough that his laptop screen was cracked.

He had other laptops, yeah, but this one was the fastest, so until he could replace it tomorrow, he grabbed an HDMI cable, hooked it up to display on the TV, and checked his email there. And then some forums. And then his Facebook and some tracked tags on Tumblr and... look, he had a lot of stuff going on, okay? He doubted anyone was going to say anything.

After a while, he began wondering whether there was anything else he was supposed to do tonight. There was some work for Peter he still had to do, of course, but that kind of thing probably merited more privacy than a common room TV screen. There was... oh, right, wasn't he supposed to talk to that Tomato girl?

Not Tomato. Another vegetable. Or maybe plant. Was Venus Fly Trap a name? No, wait, she wasn't a superhero, that didn't sound right.

But Topher was comfortable, and he didn't want to talk to Lettuce when he could just hang out on the couch here. Internet-stalking her was almost the same thing, right? Sure, it took a little more effort since he had to actually check the school database for a list of names first in order to find out what her actual name was (and Topher personally thought Tomato would've been a better choice, but hey, that was Olive's parents' fault), but before long he had a few searches going.

Hmm. There was a surprising amount of dirt on this girl, Topher had to say. Including something called freeolive.com, which brought him to a video.

"I really hope this isn't a creepy valkyrie thing," he said aloud, eyeing it dubiously before hitting play.

[[this common room brought to you by request of

dirtiest_skank, of course. please beware spoilers for easy a within, but it is open!]]

wasthecuteone

Petra had come down after the Student Council meeting to set up the rec room for the Pride meeting, hanging the banner and rainbow flags, and setting up ~~handwavey~~ snacks, including a tray of cupcakes, on a table, along with a jar labeled 'SNACKS! BECAUSE I'M NOT MADE OF MONEY,' which was located in an obvious but not obnoxiously front and center place.

"Hey, everyone!" she said once people appeared to have finished trickling in. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Petra West, and this is Pride. Which is LGBTQ Pride. For those of you who don't know what that is, I have informational pamphlets, please come see me to get one of those. If this isn't the club you meant to join, no big, you can leave now or you can stay if you want. We have a new faculty sponsor this year, Mr--uh, Thor, so let's all make him feel welcome." Petra thought he might have been drawn by the rainbows, but as long as she had a signature on her club form she was happy. "And please consider throwing whatever you can spare in the snacks jar, if you get a chance.

"So, okay, this week I want to keep everything pretty low-key, and if at any time someone's feeling uncomfortable or like this is not a safe space, please speak up. That said, if someone's feeling uncomfortable or like this isn't a safe space because you're straight and you feel like your straightness is being 'threatened,' you have three options. One, get over it. Two, you might want to think about whether you belong in our Q ranks. Three, there's the door, you know how to use it. That said, I'd like everybody to introduce themselves, give your year, tell us a little about yourself, and you can say why you joined the club if you want to, and then I'd like to hear any ideas you have for things we can do in the club this year. Okay? Okay."

((Open to all Pride members and anyone who didn't get a chance to join at the club fair who'd like to join!))

dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com

Olive had set up the first floor lobby to accommodate the inaugural meeting of the pajama club -- setting up in this case meant making sure that there were plenty of comfy pillows and fuzzy fleece throws on the sofas, and that there was a Real Housewives marathon going on the television. On a table to the side, she'd set up a variety of cereal (though pretty much everything was colorful or chocolately or sugary. No Raisin Bran for you. Who were you people, who wanted like, Chex at Pajama Club?) as well as some milk and a set of bowls. Since it was still relatively warm out, Olive's pajamas were not particularly cozy, but they were, at least, pretty cute.

"Welcome to Pajama Club," she said, once pretty much everyone was assembled. "I'm Olive, if you didn't already know. And I'll be honest, this mostly started as a joke but I'm kind of super-glad that so many people turned out. Um, for our first meeting, I figured we'd do introductions and maybe you could share why you joined? Oh, and your favorite type of cereal, so I know what to get for meetings."

myownface

Okay, so Sparkle had attempted to detach the velcro-cat several times on Thursday, to no avail. And on Friday, he'd been kind of flattered that the little black blob of clingy kitten had stuck around, but kind of concerned all the same. It wasn't as though he knew how to take care of a pet, after all. He'd fed it a can of tuna, gave it some water, and took it outside to do its business a few times, because it wasn't like he owned a litterbox or anything.

When Velcro was still around this morning, he'd relented. Even used some of the money he'd been saving from working at Demon Marcus to get cat supplies that morning, because... well, if it was going to stick around, it was probably a good idea to keep it from crapping in his laundry pile or something.

The thing was, Velcro didn't seem to like the crunchy cat-kibble things that Sparkle had bought. A bit of a piss-off, since he didn't have all that much money in the first place, but hey, that was what common room food was for, at least until he could wean the little guy off of people-food. A rummage through the cupboards, at least, yielded some canned food that the kitten did seem to like.

"Hah! Cats do too eat ham!"

Why did Fandom let Sparkle keep the cat, again?

[OOC: Open common room is open, and all Sparkle threads will be fuelled by the power of chocolate-covered espresso beans. Fear.]

dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com

When Olive had woken to the shrieks of her classmates and seen unfamiliar young ladies in the halls, she'd put it together with the information she'd been given about people changing genders, and she laaaaaaughed. Oh, initially, how she'd laughed.

But eventually, the laughter had given way to her natural instinct to help, along with her resourcefulness. So Saturday morning found her in the common room vaguely making pancakes (she'd gotten a batch down) and, more important, with a box of her (many, many) clothes and a sign set up beside it. Yes, she had included some of her items from the whole...thing. No, she had not included any bustiers. Or bras. You were on your own there, boys. But there was quite a collection of tank tops and cardigans and leggings and skinny jeans, at least. (And a Juicy sweatshirt that probably should go to someone with bigger boobs than her own. She'd been told this.)

TAKE SOMETHING. BECAUSE NONE OF YOU KNOW HOW TO DRESS WITH BOOBS, AND YOU MIGHT STILL WAKE UP LIKE THIS TOMORROW

In smaller letters, she'd added:

Ladies, feel free to donate to the cause. Write your name on the tag and I'll make sure it gets returned to you.

There was a sharpie beside the box for such a purpose -- and an "OP" on each of Olive's tags -- and she'd brought her sewing kit down for modifications, should they be needed.

And of course, in her pocket, she had a camera, too. She was kind, but she wasn't stupid.

[open CR is open, for all your "oh god i need clothes" needs, and/or if you are a kind person who'd like to donate. or if you just want pancakes to go with your breasts!]

godgavemecable.livejournal.com

Tonight, Toby decided, was a 'laze around in the common room with pizza and hilariously terrible movies' sort of night.

Which was why there were a number of pizza boxes on the table, and Cactibear- that made-for-TV classic about a half-bear, half-cactus that killed base-jumpers- on TV.

Aww yeah.

[eta: FEEL FREE TO MAKE UP RIDICULOUS DESCRIPTIONS OF WHAT'S HAPPENING ON SCREEN, GUYS. ANYTHING GOES.]

pursuedthestars

Jim had brushed today's class off about ten minutes after he'd left the classroom. It was ten questions, pointless in the grand scheme of things, and Jim wasn't going to let ten questions put him inside some kind of box.

Tomorrow, he'd planned on finally getting out and seeing what this little island had to offer. Maybe he'd hit up that bar Cade had mentioned to see what was the what there. Tonight, he was staying in and spending some time in the common room.

Feet up and head pillowed by the cushions, he'd already fallen into a habit of flipping through channels to find something interesting. Television during this time period was all kinda...lacking.

Eventually, Jim stopped on some movie when an explosion caught his eye and switched his attention to the apple he'd taken from the fridge. After taking his first bite, Jim decided the apple was much more entertaining than the movie.

[Open place, open common room]

Current Mood: lazy

milkedhiseel.livejournal.com

Tyrion was still adjusting his gauntlets as he took his place atop a large rock and raised his voice. He supposed the muggy day meant he'd pay in sweat for the suit of armor as the sun rose higher, but he was still a Lannister. He would wear proper red and gold insignia today for the sake of that.

He took a moment to glance over his army. It wasn't much of one, a few dozen children and every explosive that could be cobbled together out of scraps. Those with him still deserved the dignity of any troops.

"We don't have a lot of time before we're noticed," he began, "so I will make this short. Today, you are all doing something very brave in taking up arms, and I thank you for it. We may be hurt. We may not succeed. If we do succeed, you may find no glory in it. We may not get songs written about us, or gold to fill our pockets -- and if you're out here for any of that, wipe those thoughts from your mind.

"But this island -- the people on this island -- deserve better than the dictatorship of a madwoman. We deserve the freedom to think as we want. The right to kiss someone we love outside on a summer day. And as I speak, some of your compatriots are risking their lives to free our imprisoned friends from her clutches. Others will be working through the night to find a way to dethrone her once and for all. Our distraction will give them the time and space they need to reach those goals. Let's not let anyone down."

He drew a breath, took one last glance to the school. "Now, on three, pick up your weapons and go."

3girls-1core.livejournal.com

Sholeh was dealing fairly well with the cabins. She was used to sharing close quarters, even if normally it was just with her sisters. Never being alone made for usual ideas about space and privacy. Sharing a tent with a swan--though Lucrezia was a very well-behaved and gentle swan--was something new entirely.

And so were s'mores. Tasty, tasty s'mores.

The light from the campfire was bright enough to read by, and Sholeh was alternating between making s'mores for herself and feeding Lucrezia strips of bread.

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.]

wasthecuteone

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.))

holy-daughter.livejournal.com

Lucrezia wasn't certain how time passing here affected time's passage back home. If the ratio were a simple one-to-one, then today would be her sixteenth birthday. But she had not been gone nearly so long in reality, which meant it seemed false to claim it as such, even if she had perhaps lived the days necessary.

What was required for today was an alternative to the increasingly aggravating costumes the guests had insisted upon. Lucrezia had many old dresses that she did not mind sacrificing to this cause; there simply had to be a way to extend her dress such that it fell to the floor as dresses ought to do. And perhaps some petticoats underneath?

She had enlisted Petra's assistance, and the two had decided that this should be open to any who wished to change their garb -- or, even more simply, to come and spend time and gossip about their odious benefactors.

The sign outside the common room simply read, SEWING PARTY. Snacks and drinks provided, as well as copious amounts of needles and thread -- bring only yourself and, should you like, the atrocity known as your school uniform.

(

wasthecuteone modded with permission. Sewing party! All are welcome! Come if you want tweaks to your outfit, or if you just want to hang out.)

Current Mood: devious

bigdamnprincipal

The ~~Freedom Costumes~~ uniforms had been given out, the teachers had been prepped, and everything was as set as could be for the school board's special guests to arrive and start their tour. Zoe wasn't one for prayer, but it seemed like that was all she could do at this point. And hope that Annie wasn't the kind of person who needed caffeine to function.

[This post is for the tour of the dorms/school, for Annie, the Howells, any school board members who want to ~~supervise~~ come along, and any students who want to be in the dorms during the tour. There will be a tour of the town posted this afternoon!]

chief-cheerio.livejournal.com

Quinn was at a table in the dorm lobby today. The table had been decorated with a patterned red tablecloth and red and gold ballons that she hoped might remind somebody who squinted of the planet Mars. She was wearing a small pink FABRAY FOR PROM QUEEN button on her sweater, and figured that was about as much campaigning as she needed to do.

She had a couple celebrity magazines to flip through, but mostly she was there to sell tickets and scope out any good gossip from people who bought them.

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Today was a busy one, and as soon as the play was over it was time to dash back to the dorms to make all the last-minute touch-ups for the party. It was as beachified as someplace in the dorms could be, there were plenty of (non-alcoholic) tropical drinks, and glitter everywhere.

Glitter, sand, totally the same thing.

And, Annie decided, considering the rampant "Do you want to go to the party?" happening last night, it was probably a good thing they hadn't gone the bouncer route.

[OCD ~~going~~ up! If you want to come and haven't received an invitation, totally feel free to say Annie tracked you down and invited you. So, technically open to all! *nods*]

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Kenzi had made a big bowl of popcorn, grabbed a liter of Diet Coke from the fridge, and settled in to channel-surf. "Law & Order SUV... reality TV... cooking show?... Ooo. Excellent."

~~Meta for~~ The Shawshank Redemption. It was always fun to see other people in prison. Especially when it wasn't her.

[ooc: so, so open.]

abitlowkey

The television was on in the common room. And there was a tiny god watching it.

That was not the strange part of what was happening, though. The strange part was what was on the television. It was a channel that proclaimed itself to be 'Logo' and the players upon the stage were men in dresses and made up as though they were women.

And yelling at each other quite a bit.

"Huh." He could only wonder if his brother knew of this.

[ooc: Open like a common room!]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Continuing on with his new tradition of making a point to take some time to actually enjoy being social, Bruce made his way out to the common room. The TV was already on cartoons when he walked in, though. Classic Looney Tunes.

Really, Bruce probably hadn't even seen any of these cartoons since he was eight, but he found it amazing how quickly he related to it. The villain was designated as such by his use of a gun. The hero used his wits, disguises, and bent laws (both civil and physical) to overcome this shady Fudd character. Even when Fudd declared his intention to stew Bugs, the rabbit got out of it by declaring himself a fricasseeing rabbit and demanded that Fudd produce a license for that. And it worked! Absolute brilliance.

Who knew that Bruce was missing out on lessons that could have been inspirational just because he had long ago declared cartoons childish and not worth his time?

Bruce made some popcorn and kept watching as the less intelligent but apparently near-invulnerable (judging by how little he was killed after being shot in the face repeatedly), glory-seeking duck started to poke his bill into matters. That wouldn't eventually define the early dynamic between Bruce and a future friend. Not at all.

[OOC: I've been in a Looney Tunes mood anyway, but let's call it WB corporate synergy. Open as a common room tends to be.]

dressedinblood

Anna had takeout.

Anna had a lot of takeout, from about half of the restaurants in town, and while she didn't expect she could eat all of it, especially not after pancakes (with lots of butter and syrup and bacon) for breakfast and a cheeseburger (also with bacon) and fries and a chocolate milkshake (oh, chocolate) for lunch, she intended to at least try to sample everything. Because food, as it turned out, was even more delicious than she remembered, and she hadn't been able to decide, so she just...bought all of it.

Since she didn't stand a prayer of eating all of this, she was more than happy to share, but if anyone tried to touch the brownies she'd gotten at J,GoB, she'd probably take your hand off.

"Okay, so what's Pad Thai?" she muttered to herself, and then took a bite.

Pad Thai, as it turned out, was delicious.

((Open common room is open! And full of food.))

childhood-taunt.livejournal.com

Matt has been out on the rooftops, trying to burn off some extra energy only to come back to his room and find out that he had been sexiled. Again.

"You've got to be kidding me," Matt groaned as he flopped onto one of the couches. "This is the second night in a row."

He fiddled with the remote for a few minutes before it got he found a "Dirty Jobs" marathon.

"Huh. Ironically appropriate."

wasthecuteone

Today the snacks table sported the usual beverage options and snack fund jar, plus a plate of red velvet cupcakes Petra had made (starting with a devil's food cake mix, she wasn't afraid to admit) and a smaller plate of vegan red velvet cupcakes from J,GoB with a little sign propped up next to it reading, "Vegan!" with a little smiley face.

"Hey, guys!" Petra said. "I hope everyone's having a good week, and wasn't too traumatized by last Thursday." She shuddered a little dramatically and said, "So, okay, business first, I talked to Tony from the frat and they're doing a sort of Secret Valentine thing, where you can sign up to be paired up with someone on Valentine's Day. It totally doesn't have to be a romantic thing, it can just be to have someone to hang out with and eat chocolate or whatever. I thought it sounded really cool and I promised I'd tell you guys about it, so, I have. They're doing signups in the lobby with the Student Council flower sales and dance tickets, so hit all that up on your way out the door if you haven't already. If you want to, I mean.

"Anyway, that got me thinking, we can't let the frat beat us, right? We should do something cool for the student body. Valentine's Day is pretty much covered, but there'll be other holidays, or we could do something just because it's Friday some week or whatever. So I just want to toss that out there. Does anybody have any ideas? For a St. Patrick's Day activity or something? And even if you don't, is there anything anyone wants to talk about with the club this week?"

dollpocalypse

So after their...uh, the movie they'd seen last night, Topher and Billy had ~~handwavily or not, it depends~~ headed back to the common room to watch a Space Battles marathon. And... apparently they'd fallen asleep there.

Waking up, Topher opened his eyes, slowly lifted his head off of Billy's shoulder (what? He was comfy!), took in the room, and shrieked at the top of his lungs.

"OH MY GOD!"

[[open like a weird weekend common room, omg. no, i did not set an alarm to wake up and post this. YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING.]]

zetabetabrat.livejournal.com

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

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

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

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

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!]

leavingthenest.livejournal.com

The newbies had been on the island for an entire week! Rapunzel was pretty sure that at least some of them had to be feeling overwhelmed.

Besides, she hadn't had a chance to meet most of them!

But that was okay. Rapunzel had a solution to both of those problems! Baking. Lots and lots and lots of baking! Cookies, brownies, muffins, and cupcakes were already strewn over most of the flat surfaces in the common room.

And now? It was time for pie!

Rapunzel's tongue was caught lightly between her teeth as she caaaarefully worked to separate egg whites from their yolks.

Hopefully people would show up soon to either help bake, or help consume the results of all the baking. But either way, Rapunzel intended to take the opportunity to smile broadly and talk to them!

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

Kenzi had gone out earlier, but fallen back to the dorm after the first time the force field failed.

Now she was watching the action from on top of the roof with her binoculars, and biting her lip.

It did not look good.

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.

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!]

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Bruce was in the common room with a book and a pile of socks. Next to the socks was a sign.
FREE SOCKS
FRESHLY LAUNDERED

You see, Bruce had finally finished his laundry after the recent... unpleasantness with the laundry machines. But when he pulled them out, all of the socks were argyle in various sizes. Did machines change them? Were they secretly argyle all along and were just pretending to be single toned socks that fit Bruce? Did gremlins switch them mid-wash? Bruce didn't know, and buying new socks, throwing them in the same machine, and watching from a hidden location didn't reveal anything useful.

So screw it, he was just going to get more new socks and give these away. Because Bruce Wayne didn't wear argyle socks. Just... no.

[OOC: Inspiration for the post taken from

momslilassassin. Open CR, naturally. Take the socks.]

batwaffles.livejournal.com

With Mom working nights and Dad . . . never around, there was usually nobody to stop Stephanie if she decided she wanted to climb up on the roof at night and watch the sky, hoping Superman or Wonder Woman or Batman or someone would come to find her and take her away from home.

Climbing up to the roof here meant a lot more stairs and a lot less sneaking (and she couldn't decide if that made it more or less fun), but she'd gone up last night anyway, with a pillow and some blankets, and fallen asleep curled up against a planter full of funny-looking plants.

Her neck felt funny 'cause of the weird way she'd fallen asleep, and that was why she woke up, yawned, rubbed a little fist against her eyes, then hopped up. Pulling the pillowcase off her pillow, she tucked it into the collar of her shirt to form a makeshift cape and then contemplated climbing up onto the roof ledge to pose dramatically. 'cause she could! It would look cool, and she could play superhero lots better if she looked cool.

Uh huh. That sounded like a good idea. If only she could just scramble up onto it . . .

[OOC: Will be in and out a bit today, but open if occasionally SPish. I love that I discovered this bit of canon. :D]

leavingthenest.livejournal.com

Saturday was a good kind of day to bake cookies! Especially when it was chilly outside. Because that only made the cookies extra-delicious!

That, at least, was Rapunzel's firm opinion.

And the kitchen in the common room made it super-easy to bake! There were so many supplies! Sometimes, actually, there were too many. After all, Rapunzel knew better than to take all of the delicious ingredients and try to make one crazy batch of Franken-cookies. But that didn't mean that there weren't way too many delicious-looking ingredients.

So Rapunzel had settled for the only reasonable solution: bake different kinds of cookies. So while the chocolate chip were on the wire cooling rack (and weren't those a neat invention?), Rapunzel slid a tray of oatmeal raisin out of the oven and replaced it with a tray of peanut-butter cookies. She glanced at the sugar cookies and estimated they needed another five minutes...

There were far too many for Rapunzel to actually eat by herself, but Fandom had a tendency of helping her out with that sort of thing.

momslilassassin

Ben was hoping he'd get ALL the extra-credit for this, as well as the thanks of his grandfather for saving his droid babies from makeovers, experiments in being flung from a window and whatever else the now-small Ethics class would come up with to torture their homework.

Which was why he had a sign (that he would be happy to explain to the non-readers) that read:

I'LL TRADE YOU A LOLLIPOP FOR YOUR DROID BABY

It was worth a try, anyway.

godgavemecable.livejournal.com

Toby had just gone to get a little dinner for himself, but apparently the Chinese food place was in the middle of a 5-for-1 special. Which, well. He wasn't gonna turn down free food, but now he had entirely too much. Hence, common room, in hopes that he might be able to foist off some of this food instead of letting it go to waste.

Flipping through the channels, he stopped on something apparently called Spirit Speaker, and before he knew it he was totally sucked in to the storyline.

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Kenzi was still fighting a cold, and randomly flipping channels in the common room. One of those dance shows had now come on, and there were were people dancing to music she thought might be from the Seventies. Hard to be sure. Nyquil was kind of making some of the details fuzzy.

Singing along might be happening.

[method RP, yes. Distraction would still be good.]

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!]]

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

Bunnies bunnies bunnies bunnies-- half the bunnies had gone to Pinkie, to decorate her office; Kenzi had kept the bunny chair; and about a fourth were now going to be detailed for a special project.

But the rest were now arranged on the roof in a Bunny Exhibition. A bunny crime scene, with a paint out-line for the deceased, bunny coroners, bunny crime scene techs, a bunny crowd mourning and taking pictures on their bunny iPhones; it was awesome. More paint to explain this was outside the Bunny Club, and seriously, she should charge admission.

She beamed over at Bart. "Do you think we need more crowd, or more bunny police?"

[for the roomie, and expecting one other, but open to tourists!]

regretiz4suckas.livejournal.com

"Here!" Kenzi was carefully putting her stolen butter sculpture down, and then beaming at Seifer. "You're sure you can make it so these don't melt?"

[ooc: for the ~~partner in crime~~ ~~kidnapping victim~~ political protester first, but feel free to react to the Art Installation. ~~Kenzi, at least, is entirely subject to any Detentions or punishments that seem reasonable.~~

Installation up! AVENGE THE BOVINE! FOR THE DAIRY COWS!

Both are okay with whatever Detention they've earned.]

chief-cheerio.livejournal.com

After the brunch, Quinn had taken a page she'd torn out of Cosmo to Theodoric's of York, handed it to a stylist, and watched in satisfaction as the long hair fell away from her face. It was therapeutic; she looked like an adult now, not like some little girl who'd spent all weekend halfway waiting for Mommy and Daddy to show up.

And now she was standing in front of the girls' room mirror, tub in gloved hand. It would wash out soon, but was she really daring enough to streak her hair with pink, even for a week or so? It was just -- she needed something to distract her from the fact she didn't really have a family anymore. Hair worked. She was 17; there was practically a law mandating she have pink hair at some point.

She drew a deep breath and started dabbing the dye into the front part of her hair.

[OOC: Open bathroom post. ]

Current Mood: artistic

wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com

It had been brought to Wesley's attention by a number of parties that teaching Kenzi how to shoot a pistol was inadvisable at best. Teaching her how to shoot something long-ranged like a rifle, though? That was probably a biiiit dangerous. You know. A bit.

And yet.

He waited for her to show up and practiced on the target, relishing the kickback slightly more than usual. While he generally preferred pistols for a variety of reasons, after the disaster that had been yesterday's phone call with his father, today he didn't mind hurting his hand in the name of relieving some tension.

[[For she he's waiting for, though it's an open range! ETA: And let's call all talk of Faith NFB, please!]]

necroslacker

Sam wasn't really a fan of being up this early. He couldn't say what'd woken him up either. It hadn't been a nightmare because he remembered those vividly and it hadn't been a visit from Brooke or Ashley either. He'd just...woken up and hadn't been able to get back to sleep.

So, he'd ended up in the common room. He'd thought about cooking something but that way lay disaster and pain so he'd made himself a gourmet bowl of cereal (Captain Crunch to be specific) and flopped down on the couch. When he found Saturday morning cartoons on some channel, he felt like he was five again instead of pushing nineteen. Man, Ramon could never find out about this or he'd never live it down.

Cartoons were more entertaining than news shows and infomercials so Sam settled in to wake himself up (just because he was awake didn't mean he was awake) and hopefully get himself together enough to run some errands later.

Or maybe he'd just eat more cereal.

[CR's open for one and all]

Current Mood: mellow

lockestheway

Just a few weeks ago, Peter had been celebrating the end of the war he'd set in motion himself - the one that catapulted Locke into political prominence.

Roughly a week later, his parents had kind of squashed his enthusiasm thoroughly with all that crap about Ender.

After some thinking about it, though, Peter had realised there was only one option - Ender would have to go. And not to some interdimensional school he could easily come back from: he needed to leave.

He'd been working on that for a while now, trying to get some interesting footage released while dealing with the minor world leaders who were now interested in Locke's backing. Which went well, generally speaking, except for minor glitches. Like last night. Like last 'drunken Topher calling him on his 21st century phone' night, which had resulted in at least an hour of apologies to the Congolese prime minister because he really hadn't been telling him to 'have a lie-down'.

Peter hadn't slept much last night.

All of this boiled on down to one thing: Peter Wiggin, lying on the sofa in the common room before classes, a bowl of cereal balancing on his stomach and a giant mug of coffee on the tale.

Topher would pay. Right after he finally managed to grab a nap.

[[ open! ]]

wasthecuteone

The cupcakes this week were just Funfetti, as Petra hadn't had the time or the budget for anything fancier, but sometimes you just had to have Funfetti, and still: cupcakes. To drink, Petra had provided coffee milk, the drink of her people (Rhode Islanders), along with regular old plain milk and chocolate milk, and soda for those who weren't feeling the milk. Also, the enormous, sparkly 'PRIDE!' banner was hung up along one wall.

"Hi, guys!" Petra said once people had stopped arriving. "I'm Petra, and I started the club so I guess I'm in charge here. So, business first. Apparently I didn't make this clear enough at first, my bad, I've never run anything like this before, but this is an LGBTQ Pride Club, which stands," yes, she was going for the small words here, "for Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender Questioning. Or Queer. If this isn't the club you meant to join, no big, you can leave now or you can stay if you want. Vice Principal Deadpool has agreed to be our club sponsor," even if he did think it had something to do with tracking down some kids, "so let's hear it for him, and I have a jar set up by the cupcakes, and if anyone wants to throw in a dollar or two toward snacks that would be great, because I'm kind of..." she pulled a face. "Not made of money.

"So, okay, this week I want to keep everything pretty low-key, and if at any time someone's feeling uncomfortable or like this is not a safe space, please speak up. That said, if someone's feeling uncomfortable or like this isn't a safe space because you're straight and you feel like your straightness is being 'threatened,' you have three options. One, get over it. Two, you might want to think about whether you belong in our Q ranks. Three, there's the door, you know how to use it. That said, I'd like everybody to introduce themselves, give your year, tell us a little about yourself, and you can say why you joined the club if you want to, and then I'd like to hear any ideas you have for things we can do in the club this year. Okay? Okay."

((Open to all Pride members and anyone who'd like to join who didn't get a chance at the Club Fair!))

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!"]

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.]

life_inshadow

The powers that be had decided to recast Tara to attract a younger, edgier demographic. The problem was the producers also believed that younger, edgier demographic had the intelligence of soup, and so they'd cast a model who was trying very very hard to act ... and not doing a very good job of it.

Not that backstage silliness was Tara's main concern tonight. Instead, she was standing in front of the girl's bathroom mirror, staring and staring and staring at a plus sign on a little plastic stick.

"Oh no," she said flatly. "It can't be."

[OOC: So open, yes. Tara is now being played by Allison Harvard.]

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!]

endsthegame

Ender had been gone for the weekend, and since then he'd spent no small amount of time either in his room or in Tony's secret laboratory. But, he decided, it was time to stroll back into the common room and see if there was anything interesting he could catch on TV.

He suspected not, honestly. But sometimes - sometimes - there was an interesting documentary or two. Like right now-- a well-researched, thoughtfully filmed piece on the social and cultural development of early man. Because of the year they were in, some of the information would be out of date, Ender knew.

But at least it was food for thought.

He sat back and snacked idly on an apple as he watched. Speaking of food for thought - that fruit basket hadn't exactly been easy to find around here. He was starting to suspect someone had exchanged all the fruit for snack food.

[[ open! ]]

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