fandomhighdorms | Entries tagged with petra west

mummyspromdate.livejournal.com

So. This was still. going. on.

Call Maddie naive, but she'd thought that letting a de-aged trickster god swipe her V-card might have alleviated some of the, um, problems she was having. Apparently not! Apparently she was stuck with this feeling till it went away for everyone and that was stupid. God.

This wasn't even her first cold (okay, very cool) shower of the day, and while she knew it was probably killing the environment, it made her feel better at least for a little while. Not dirty, by the way, amazingly.

[Open for all your cold shower needs. YOU KNOW YOU HAVE THEM.]

dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com

Eighteen wasn't so different from seventeen thus far, except for the fact that it was kind of a big day to be turning eighteen. Olive had gone out and done her civic duty earlier that day, and somehow the rite of casting her very first vote hadn't been all that exciting. Maybe she was too cynical, or maybe she was too ADHD in general. Either way, she'd spent most of her time in line, texting, before finally, painstakingly filling out her ballot.

She was now in the common room, as she'd emailed she would be, with a festive birthday hat cocked to one side on her head. She'd put on NBC -- though at eleven she'd change it to Comedy Central, because Jon Stewart was both more palatable and kind of hot -- and was vaguely watching the screen in between texting with Rhiannon (who was waiting in her own voting line -- god help them all.)

There was a stack of pizzas as well as some ~~moddable~~ snacks and drinks, and Olive was fine with going ahead and terming this a 'party.' As long as no one brought a case of beer again, Sparkle. And...Cade. And Atton. (It was hard to be narratively accusing when there were so many guilty parties last time.)

[party is open to alllllll.]

craftyladyparts.livejournal.com

Jessica didn't really feel like checking out whatever was on TV tonight, but it seemed as though the Syfy was calling to her. She could barely resist flipping over to see what motion picture atrocity they were showing tonight.

It was worse than she could have imagined. It seemed there was a marathon of Sarnac Lake movies on tonight. And, okay, that was bad enough and Syfy should have been ashamed of themselves. But the worst thing? "Wait, they made four of these? That is four times as many as I thought possible."

Apparently Jessica was at the "eating popcorn while watching terrible movies about killer crocodiles" stage of grief.

[OOC: This post brought to you by Elaine, and the fact that yes, there are four Lake Placid movies.]

wasthecuteone

After Model UN, Petra hurried back to the dorms to get the table in the lobby set up for her turn selling tickets to the homecoming dance.

Tickets, glittery sign, ballot box...she was good to go.

HOMECOMING 2012
BUY YOUR TICKETS HERE

She occasionally had to remind herself that it would be bad form to campaign for Homecoming Queen while working the poll, but that was a minor issue.

pursuedthestars

There was a ferret following Jim around. At first, he'd just thought the island was giving out pets again and he'd rolled his eyes. Then, the ferret had started talking. At that point, Jim thought maybe he'd gone on a bender he didn't remember and was still drunk.

But, the ferret hadn't gone away and he hadn't sobered up (because he hadn't ever been drunk) and Jim had eventually just chalked the talking ferret (who'd introduced himself as Aesina) to the island.

Wasn't that what Sparkle had told him the reason for most things was? Whatever, Jim and the stupid ferret were now out on the deck because it apparently hurt like a bitch if Jim tried to get away.

"Are we here to get a tan?" Aesina asked. He was stretched out on a lounger, looking pretty comfortable.

"You've got fur, you can't get sun."

Aesina sniffed haughtily. "Says you. I'll do whatever I want."

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head. Stupid familiar sounding ferret.

[Deck is open]

Current Mood: confused

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!))

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.]

godgavemecable.livejournal.com

So. Today was Toby's sixteenth birthday. He'd decided against holding an actual party or anything in favour of just hanging out in the common room with some pizza and cake.

And the Titanium Dude movies, which he'd been meaning to check out ever since going to the movies with Kenzi last month.

[ooc: Yes, I know Titanium Man is a Marvel villain, but dude, there are only so many cool-sounding metals out there, so Titanium Dude it is. Food is moddable, CR is open!]

nottheshoes.livejournal.com

Some kids chose to lie in on a Sunday. Most, probably.

George was not one of the these kids.

One week down and he'd remembered and reacquainted himself with at least the basics of Broken technology: lights, kettle, toaster. Enough to make a passable breakfast and a mug of tea. The television still confused him somewhat, despite what he'd seen of it, and no matter, since he had no desire to watch people punch each other anyway. It was left switched off.

He had other things to keep him busy anyway. Spread on the coffee table along with his tea and breakfast were a couple of atlases. There were a few things he wanted to compare, and what better time to do it than when half the school was asleep.

[[ open common room! ]]

Current Mood: content

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.))

willbethenight.livejournal.com

The ceremony was over. Nothing had eaten his diploma. He got to test out the taser function of his grapple. He punched a bear until it cried (basically).

Bruce was having a pretty great day.

Of course, the day was ending soon, and it was almost time to start focusing on leaving in a few days. Almost time. For tonight, he could give a small token of thanks to the students of Fandom for the past three years by paying for pizza, cake, and refreshments and getting it set up in the common room.

Yes, it was completely impromptu. But if people remembered him putting together a quick celebration, maybe they would focus less on him tasering a bear. Probably not. Oh well, he could deal with being known for that here.

[OOC: Open for an impromptu celebration!]

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

wasthecuteone

There were things Petra was willing to do in the name of appeasing the school board and not getting the school shut down. She'd wear the stupid uniform, albeit not without some serious modifications. She'd smile and act nice and yell at Britta not to melt polyester all over the lawn.

Canceling the Pride meeting, however, fell under the heading of 'Oh Hell No.'

So Petra had a determined and slightly too bright smile pasted on her face today, and, newly flush with cash from selling Loki's coin and negotiating an even better rate than his estimate for it, she'd sprung for a variety of ~~handwavey~~ treats from J,GoB--and told them to go heavy on the rainbows in decorating the cookies and cupcakes. She'd also gotten various sodas and other drinks to go with it, along with rainbow paper plates and napkins. Her iPod was in its speaker dock next to the refreshments, piping a playlist that ran from "Born this Way" to "I Will Survive," currently at a pretty moderate volume, but she could crank it up later if so desired.

"So obviously this situation sucks," Petra said for an opener, mostly just hoping no one was overhearing it who shouldn't. "And that's without even talking about the rabbits that tried to attack me like four times on my way back from town. I think they might really like cupcakes. But I say we just forget about it for an hour or two and enjoy ourselves. Or we can bitch about it and eat cake. I'm open to either.

"Point of club business, I don't know if clubs usually keep meeting over the summer, but do we want to do that even if it's unofficially? Or we could just suspend it until fall. Let me know if you have thoughts. Oh, and if anyone wants their uniform to look less hideous," as evidenced by the fact that Petra's actually fit and all, "I can do that, just talk to me after the meeting or drop by 511 or whatever. For now just enjoy the cake and let's try to make lemonade out of these giant lemons."

shestheworst.livejournal.com

Unfortunately, it would take a lot more than the threat of losing funding to allow Britta Perry to be able to take this sort of fascist regime to take over, even if only for a week. She regarded the uniforms with complete disgust, seeing them as nothing more than symbols of conformity and the loss of individuality for the mindless monotony demanded by the Man to ensure that no one had their own brain, personality, or even fashion sense. This was not going to stand. Oh, no. Not while Britta Perry had anything to say about it.

The smoke bomb had been a failure, but Britta was sure that this protest would be more effective...and more important. Uniforms! Ha!

Needless to say, Britta was not wearing her uniform. In fact, her uniforms were piled up in front of her on the ground.

"We will not be confined to the strict and starchy guidelines of uniformity!" she called from the front of the dorms. "We are not clones, but human beings! We are not factory made cogs to fit into your machine, but people! Down with your pre-fabricated attempts to make us all mindless blank slates to serve the one percent! This is America, not Communist China! This is the Land of the Free, not the Land of 50-50 Cotton-Poly blend! I reject your pathetic attempts to make us conform and substitute it with anarchy of my own! Behold!" She held up her lighter in triumph. "This is what I have to think about your fascist dress code!"

And this was where she was supposed to ignite the lighter and set the flame to the uniforms and send them up in a glorious blaze of revolution, but her thumb seemed unable to spark the flint. "Damn it!" she said, giving the lighter a shake and trying it again, to no avail. "Why isn't it working?"

[[ stop her. please. ]]

wasthecuteone

Petra had fully intended to go along with this whole song and dance for a day or whatever, buck up, wear the uniform, in the name of just getting it over with.

That was, until she saw the uniform in question. Some things were not meant to be borne. More plaid than a lumberjack convention, ugly boxy cuts, and none of it in breathable fabrics¹? Oh hell no.

Upon returning to the dorms, Petra had dug through her sewing supplies, collected everything she thought she'd need, and relocated it all, including her sewing machine (which was set up on the coffee table), to the common room. She figured this was going to be an all-nighter, especially if she was going to restructure a blazer² into something figure-flattering, and she didn't want to test Dany's patience.

And now? She was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, surrounded by...well, mostly, at this point, pieces of cloth. Plaid polyester cloth. It might look familiar. And if the penny didn't drop then, the fact that Petra was currently taking a seam ripper to those pants might trigger a clue.

She couldn't fix this sartorial disaster completely, but she could remake it. She could make it better.

¹Not to mention the disastrous rise on the pants she'd been given, which were also about three inches too short--kind of astonishing when you considered practically everything else she'd been given was at least two sizes too big.
²Something she was actually kind of excited about attempting. Petra was kind of a dork about sewing sometimes.

((Open common room, y'all know the drill.))

wasthecuteone

Fact: Petra West totally loved Dancing with the Stars. Costumes, sequins, drama, ballroom dance? She was so very there. So on Tuesday she went to the common room to scrounge up food--there seemed to be a lot of Thai takeout in the fridge, for some reason, not that Petra was complaining, and no one's name was on it so: fair game--and watch the results show. As she waited for the show to start, she channel-surfed, pausing on--why was there beauty pageant imagery on CNN?

Oh. THAT was why.

Petra's shout of, "YEAH, JENNA TALACKOVA, YEAH!" may have been audible on other floors. And she wasn't even going to deny the jumping up and down and fistpumping.

((Open common room is open!))

shestheworst.livejournal.com

Britta was not on the roof. It was a shocker, to be sure, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was broke and totally out of both cigarettes and pot. She supposed she could go up and wait for someone and bum a smoke from them, but that seemed just pathetic.

So she was bumming in the common room instead, a bag of baby carrots in her lap and the remote control in her hand, as she flipped through the channels, looking for something interesting to watch. She wasn't expecting to find anything, and her steady commentary supported this fact.

"Crap," she said, changing the channel. "Crap. More crap. Capitalist crap. Ugh, misogynistic crap. Feminist crap. Crap. Crap. Crap."

"Ugh. Where's The Real World?"

One day, Britta might stop expecting it to still be 1997. One day.

[[ open common room is open. duh-doy! ]]

wasthecuteone

"Hey, guys," Petra said from where she sat on the couch--wearing sweats, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her only makeup concealer, lip balm, and mascara. Oh, and she was holding a large cup of tea, and a bag of cough drops sat on the table next to her. Yeah, Petra wasn't 100%. "So I woke up with a sore throat this morning, so don't expect a lot of talking from me." She grimaced apologetically, then said, "So, I don't know, just talk among yourselves...any issues you've had lately. Maybe we want to do something for St. Patrick's Day? I mean, there are rainbows with the whole leprechaun thing." She coughed a few times into her hand, then said a little hoarsely, "So yeah, just let me know what you think."

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?"

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!))

willbethenight.livejournal.com

It had been a long day, at the end of a long weekend, at the end of a long week, and so on. So Bruce was pleased enough to take it easy for a night and head to the common room. But that was just a cover for something he really wanted to test.

When Bruce made his contributions to remembering everything back into existence, he cheated in one area and changed one small detail in the dorms. Bruce turned the television on and flipped channels freely.

He won.

That - and the overall return of Fandom, his home reality, his cave, and apparently all other realities - meant that he was even willing to compromise from his habit of watching true crime documentaries by watching a stupid-looking Christmas movie about a con. Why not? Twas the season, after all.

[OOC: TAKE THAT, TV! Ahem. The common room is open, naturally.]

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!]

wasthecuteone

Petra still had her apron on and a smudge of flour on one cheek from the Thanksgiving cooking fest, and she was frowning down at her cell phone as people started to arrive. Tiara's number had been disconnected? That couldn't be right. She'd send her an e-mail when she got back to her room, asking what was up.

Then she remembered herself and looked up to tell everyone, "Hey, guys. No snacks today because tomorrow is a big ol' eat-a-thon, so I thought it might be overkill. So, I know some of us are probably going home for Thanksgiving and some of us are staying, but we all have stuff to be thankful for, so let's go around the room and talk about that, yeah? Me, I'm thankful I survived the Miss Teen Dream pageant and met so many cool people there and here, and that I didn't turn out to be crazy."

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Today seemed to be a busy day for a lot of things, but Annie hoped people would show up for today's cooking extravaganza for tomorrow's Thanksgiving feast. When she wasn't in class, Annie was here, getting things set up or trying something from a recipe book. Cooking was easy, right? You just put stuff together according to directions. Nothing hard about that, and way easier when you weren't four.

~~Moddable~~ ingredients and utensils and things were available for anyone who wanted to stop by and help!

[So open, and set so no one has to choose between this and reserves or the party. I may or may not be slow, so you'll just have to ping in and talk to each other too. *nods*]

wasthecuteone

Okay so. Half of everyone were little kids running amok. Petra didn't think she had a hope of corralling them all, and she wasn't that great with kids anyway, so she honestly hadn't even tried. But as the day wore on, she'd realized they'd all be getting hungry soon, if they weren't already, and might not be able to fend for themselves. She'd thought about ordering pizza, but she didn't think she had enough money for that and feared the kids would think 'pizza party' meant 'excuse to act even crazier.' So she'd called her dad and gotten his recipe for vegetable soup, packed up Fake Baby Sadie, and gone shopping, then to the common room, where a big pot of soup was now simmering on the stove with a pile of grilled cheese sandwiches on a plate nearby.

"I sure hope there are some hungry kids around here!" she sing-songed as she stirred the soup. "I can't eat this all myself!" Fake Baby Sadie made a burbling noise, and she frowned at her. The thing was really kind of creepy, the more time you spent around it. "Not you. You don't eat real food."

If any hungry big kids wanted to stop by, that would, of course, also be fine, and probably help Petra's sanity.

wasthecuteone

The intercom crackled to life on Saturday morning, and Petra, who was as of yet unaware of anything wrong today and hadn't given thought to the possibility people were still asleep since it was a weekend, began to speak. ( Overdue contest winners under here. )

((Open for reactions.))

wheeler-360.livejournal.com

"No, really," Marshall said, balancing his phone between ear and shoulder as he measured sugar into his mixing bowl. "I'm baking. Like, the common room on each floor has pretty much a full kitchen, it's totally cool."

"I didn't mean that," Corrine said, on the other end of the call. "I was surprised that you're baking, not that there's a place at your school you can do it. Since when do you bake?"

His timer dinged; Marshall turned around and pulled a pan of orange-flavoured cupcakes. "Well, I mean, it's just applied chemistry," he pointed out. "Besides, it's not that hard to follow a recipe. Just like doing a lab, y'know? Anyway, I should go, I don't want to be distracted while I'm making the ganache. Tell Vaughn and Z that I said hi, okay?"

"Sure. ... What's a ganache?"

Marshall laughed. "Goodbye, Corrine. If Lucas asks, yes, I'll be online later tonight."

[Totally open and distractible. There are tasty things! Come and get some.]

wasthecuteone

"Hey, guys," Petra said to the group, "I don't really have an activity planned today, so I thought we could just...talk about whatever's up with us, or what's bugging us, or whatever. I hope that's okay and I'll try to have something more fun for us to do next week, okay? In the meantime I made cookies. I hope you like them."

wasthecuteone

It was Halloween, and you know what that meant: time was up! Either people had decorated their doors for the contest or they hadn't. Or they'd left it to the last minute, were mid-process, and were about to get a shock, because it was time for the judging to happen. And no, no extensions allowed.

((OOC: How this works: Ping into the subthread for your floor with your room number and a description of how your door is decorated. ICly, Student Council representatives will handwavily come by at some point during the afternoon to judge and rank your door. (Any StuCo reps who feel like dropping into the post to comment on doors for real are of course welcome to do so. And anyone else who wants to comment on/observe a door, you just don't get to fake judge, la.) OOCly, winners by floor will be chosen via RNG. Fabulous fake prizes will be announced tomorrow!))

wasthecuteone

Petra wanted to do an orange and black half-moon manicure for Halloween, so she carted her supplies down to the common room and started flipping through channels on the TV, looking for something to provide background noise while she worked and entertainment while she waited for her nails to dry. She found...crazytown.

After a few moments of jawdropped amazement, she concluded, "I don't know who this drunk lady is but I appreciate her commitment to insanity."

wasthecuteone

There were the usual ~~moddable~~ snacks and the jar for funds for future snacks on a table, but also, there was a bin of assorted trims and sewing notions, and even a few pieces of fabric, with a sign on it that read 'Free to a Good Home.'

"Hey, guys!" Petra said, sounding super-excited. "Next week is Halloween and we have the mixer with the frat and the sorority, so we'll be working on costumes this week so we'll all look fabulous." Which probably explained why she was sewing silver fringe onto a shirt. "I know everyone isn't as crafty as me, so I brought some stuff I'm not going to use and you can take anything that looks like it might be useful for your costume. And if you can't sew, you know, there's hem tape and superglue and safety pins, it's really just a matter of creativity and making do with what you have and your skillset." Petra sounded completely blase about this because, well, she was. In the absence of any better materials, by God she'd rip someone's ballgown apart and make thread out of it. "But if you hit a roadblock I'm here to help, and if you need second opinions I'm sure we'll all be happy to help you."

annieadderall.livejournal.com

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

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

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

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

wasthecuteone

Petra was ~~apparently taking over the dorms community~~ manning the table for ticket sales today. She had tickets, she had a book to read if things got slow, she had a glittery sign:

HOMECOMING 2011
BUY YOUR TICKETS HERE!!

And she also had a ballot box for Homecoming Court. That one was important.

wasthecuteone

Before the Pride Meeting, Petra went through the halls with a stack of fliers and a copy of the student directory, sliding one under each occupied door and posting a few more in the stairwells and common rooms for good measure. They read (minus the bat and haunted house clipart):

( Flier under here! )

((~~Please hold for minor OCD.~~ OCD Mission Accomplished.))

wasthecuteone

There were snacks and soda, and as a, "Yay, we all survived vacation!" treat, Petra had even sprung for doughnuts from the bakery. "Hey, guys!" she said. "I hope everyone had a good vacation, or at least not a scary vacation. My roommate turned into a dragon." After a moment she thought to add, "But a tiny dragon. Oh, but she's better now. Anyway, Homecoming's coming up, is everyone excited? And then there's Halloween. Sooooo," Petra indicated the pile of cosmetics on the table before her. "I brought makeup! And nail polish! If anyone wants to go get their stash, too, great, and then we can do makeovers or test out our looks for the dance. And guys, get over your 'boys don't wear makeup' hangups, because you should totally at least embrace concealer, trust me on this one, and guyliner can be so hot. But," she sighed, "if someone really doesn't want to, you don't have to. You can talk about vacation instead! But if you're just hesitating because 'I don't wear makeup' or 'guys don't wear makeup' or you're scared, don't be. It's totally not scary. It's fun! And then I was thinking next week we could have a costume workshop for Halloween, so you guys might want to think ahead to that and plan on bringing whatever costume stuff you've got. Halloween's so great, because you can be whoever you want to be. Don't you think? Anyway, yes. Makeup!" She was so excited.

willbethenight.livejournal.com

Break was actually in pretty nice as far as Bruce was concerned.. Some good was done, some sights were seen, and Bruce was able to keep up with his training to some degree. After checking out the cave to make sure everything was in order, Bruce decided to stop in the common room and make a show of social behavior.

In this case, Bruce turned on the TV and it was on some kind of zombie show. Not having any particular issue with zombies himself, he settled in with a glass of water and started considering what he knew about the science of dead bodies, the state of zombies as depicted on the show, and the only zombie he'd ever fought, Solomon Grundy. He was making notes about these comparisons. And yes, he was considering this as "a show of social behavior."

[OOC: Open CR!]

wasthecuteone

"Hey, guys," Petra said. "I didn't have time to make anything this week," because she'd been busy trying to keep her roommate from burning down the dorms. You were welcome. "So I picked up some stuff from the store." She gestured to the snacks table, where there were chips, pretzels, and Oreos.

"So, Parents Weekend is over and we all survived, yay, so let's just talk about how that went and our families this week, yeah? My family's been great, they're super-supportive, and we've had our problems but largely they've been money-related so, you know, who hasn't?" Aw, look at her making all light of it. "And my mom was really sick for a while, but she's better now. So I know that I'm really lucky to have them, and I'm not, like, bragging or anything, I'm just saying. That's my story. What's yours?"

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.]

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

wasthecuteone

There were no cupcakes this week, because Petra hadn't gotten to them. There were, however, freshly made chocolate chip cookies, possibly even still warm if you got to them quickly enough, and milk and soda. There was plenty of room on the table for other snacks if anyone wanted to bring them, plus the jar was back, now with a glittery sign taped to it reading "Snack Fund!:)"

"Hey, guys!" Petra said. "So, business first: I was talking to Tony from the frat last week about maybe doing some events in collaboration with them and the sorority, like maybe a Halloween party? I told him I was down for it, but I want to hear your thoughts, too. So, what do you guys think about that? The frat does have a neverending pizza supply in its favor..."

"Moving on, this past weekend completely freaked me out, and nothing even happened to me, but I'm realizing that that's about me, not about anybody else and how they choose to react to something like that, and also that I really need to apologize to Rosella. So if you want to talk about that, we can, and we can talk about Parents' Weekend. I know that it might be tricky for some of you whose parents haven't been around and might not know certain things, or maybe you're not sure how it'll be when they're around. But just know that we are here for you, okay? I'm in room 511, and if you need to hide out for a while, or just to talk, you know, come on by. My parents aren't coming because plane tickets cost money, but, you know, enough about me. I'd like to open the floor and if you want to talk about this stuff or anything else, great."

wasthecuteone

The current bit of madness at the school was basically Petra's worst nightmare. She was thankfully unaffected, but she'd spent most of last night running through a jungle in her dreams, chased by a giant frilled snake wearing a Yale sweatshirt. The snake kept calling her 'JT,' and when she'd caught a glimpse of herself in a pool of water, the face peering back at her hadn't been hers. That had been when she'd woken up and decided sleep was no longer happening.

So she'd thrown on a sweatshirt over her pajamas and dragged herself into the common room, where she started a pot of coffee, then made a breakfast for herself of some leftover cake she'd found in the kitchen as she gazed semiblankly at the television screen, where a Spanish soccer game was going on. She didn't know anything about soccer except that Cristiano Ronaldo and David Beckham were hot, but some of these guys were pretty decent, too, and it was kind of hypnotizing, so she left it on. She had a vague idea some of these guys might be Basque. Or maybe Martian. Agirretxe? How did you even say that?

((Open common room!))

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!))

wasthecuteone

Petra was, she would readily admit, not what one would call a great cook. She could do the basics and maybe even get a little creative from time to time, and she could catch and clean a fish and cook it over the campfire like a pro, but she wasn't about to start whipping out five-course gourmet meals. But she was pretty confident in her ability to follow directions, and she'd been poking around on the internet earlier when she found the perfect recipe for the club fair tomorrow: cupcakes. And not just any cupcakes, but rainbow cupcakes. They were so cute, so cheerful, so on-theme, so delicious!

Sure, there were a lot of fiddly steps involved in making the layers come out right, but as long as she took her time and read through carefully, and didn't freak out when some of the yellow batter somehow got in her hair, it was all good. She even made the frosting, although she was tempted to just use Funfetti. Also, her apron was super cute, if she did say so herself.

((Open common room is open! But Petra'll swat your hand with a spatula if you try to take one of her cupcakes. They're for tomorrow.

Well. Maybe if you're really nice she'll let you sample one for quality control.))

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!"]

wasthecuteone

Petra, dressed in her beloved gold lamé jumpsuit, killer gold boots, and a sparkly blue cape¹ she'd whipped together on Bruce's suggestion (plus it made her outfit school colors!) came downstairs pretty early for a weekend to set up at a table in the lobby. And by 'set up' she meant 'drag a chair behind it and make sure there was an outlet so she could plug in her laptop to look at the Miss Universe national costumes, because it was truly the most wonderful time of the year, while she waited for someone to talk to her.' She taped a glittery, colorful sign to the front of the table reading, because she'd decided to just go with it:

SuperPetra!*
For Junior Student Council Representative
I'm Here For YOU!
Tell Me Your Concerns
*No actual superpowers.

She was READY.

"Wow. Miss Bahamas' wings are just like that one kid's...Oh Canada honey no." Wait until she got to Miss Tanzania...

¹Yes, it was costumey. She also thought it was fairly awesome.

((OOC: So very open, although I may be in and out for a bit. Petra is her normal self, as she already is a transgender former boy band member turned pageant queen whose plane crashed on a deserted island where a shady corporation tried to kill her.))

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!]

wasthecuteone

Making campaign posters was hell on a girl's manicure, and Petra's nails had finally reached the chipped-up point of no return. It was time to redo them. She decided to relocate to the common room, both for more space for the fumes to dissipate in and so she could watch TV while she worked and waited for her nails to dry, and, since she couldn't decide which colors she wanted to use while she was in her room, she wound up carrying around a dozen with her, which she would be more than happy to share if anyone else wanted to get in on the nail-painting action.

She had a bottle with her name, which she thought was pretty cool, but the color was a little darker than she was feeling right now. Maybe for her toes. She finally decided on a blue foil, with silver glitter on her ring fingers just for fun, though she laughed for about five minutes straight when she remembered what those two were called.

She flipped through channels looking for something to watch before she got started. Most of the TV was weird and not what she was used to, but she was able to find a rerun of The Shills, The Corporation's wildly popular program about product placement and the teens who love it. It was the episode where Lorrie and Chad broke up and she tearfully gave him back the Frou Frou bag he'd given her when she agreed to fake marry him to promote his new beer line. Perfect.

((I own all three nail polishes mentioned, and am wearing Swimsuit..Nailed It! right now. I blame Beauty Queens 100%. Open common room is open!))

annieadderall.livejournal.com

Annie had gone into the bathroom to try and wash some of the seemingly omnipresent glitter off her hands, and it was then that she noticed the sheet of white butcher block paper taped to one of the walls. After drying her hands and checking to make sure it wasn't covering up any of her fliers (it wasn't), she regarded it for a second, wondering what it was there for and who put it there.

Then she shrugged, reached into her purse, and wrote Vote for Annie!! with a heart next to it. You really shouldn't expect anything less from her.

[I HAD TO. You know what to do. Annie can be in there if you want to talk to her, or you can mod her out.]

rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com

Rilla, after listening to the radio avidly for the last few days, had decided that the other candidates for Student Council had tapped out the baked goods bribery market, which was why she was seated at the table writing a series of very polite notes to the members of the sophomore class and tying blue (which were scary, but school colour-related!) and yellow carnations to each with a pair of blue and yellow ribbons.

Jims was snoozing in a wicker basket nearby, and pot of tea was waiting by the stove. She'd share with anyone who stopped in, but especially if you were a Soph.

inaskinnyway.livejournal.com

Susan knew that this place was much different than her own world- it still felt strange to think of it that way but she supposed that was the best way to put it- and she was determined to adapt as quickly as possible. The most glaring differences were the technological ones, and so she'd started there.

She'd quickly decided that anyone who took longer than five seconds to deduce what a light switch was for and how to work it was an idiot. With that accomplished, she moved on to the common room, testing out whatever it was she didn't immediately recognize and see if she couldn't figure it out. To her surprise, it hadn't been difficult to work anything. It was almost as if she already knew how to turn these things on and make them go, which she knew was ridiculous. She'd never seen these devices before, so there was no way that she would know how to operate them, and therefore they just had to be simple to operate.
The only thing that was causing any trouble at all was the television. Susan knew that pushing the button would make it turn on, and she'd figured out that pushing these other buttons would make whatever was on the screen change. Of course, anyone coming into the room would find her doing so by standing next to the television and making the channels change that way. She was already deciding everything on this thing was drivel. There would never be any reason to learn to use the remote.

[Open!]

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