Fandom High Dormitories

Sky was sitting cross-legged in a chair he'd pulled in front of the 3 washers he had going, reading a book and waiting for said washers to be done so he could dry his clothes, and his... somewhat-soiled bedsheets.

He was clad in only a pair of boxers and a tight red t-shirt.

No, he normally wasn't one of those kinds of people, but his laundry had piled up on him without him really noticing, and he found to his dismay that he didn't have any clean pants when going to change them after Eddie the seagull handwavily crapped on them. He'd been too irritated to handle the problem last night, so there he was this morning, washing his clothes.

In boxers. And a tight red t-shirt.

[Open in case you'd have any reason to stumble upon Sky in the laundry room, la~]

Now that Sky, alias Uberman, had been filled with a nice breakfast of pancakes, there were important matters to take care of.

Like fighting off invisible villains.

"Ha! Gotcha with my 'splodey baseball!" he crowed, tossing a tiny plastic ball at what he imagined was the wicked Space Turkey. "And I getcha 'gain if you come back! Uberman never gives up, an' he always beats the bad guys!" He spread his arms and ran in circles, pretending to fly, his red towel "cape" fluttering behind him.

"Here comes Uberman, to save the day..."

[Open for both the wee and the normal-sized to play! ... And no, I have no idea where I pulled Space Turkey from. My nether regions, I expect.]

Sky was being stealthy as he slunk to the common room in his incognito disguise after Martial Arts club- well, as stealthy as a 6-foot-tall, goateed man in a red work shirt, jeans and a cowboy hat could be. Time to partake in a very secret, insanely-guilty pleasure of his, which he'd wanted to do last week, but it hadn't been a good time.

Armed with a bowl of popcorn, a book and his class notes, Sky snuggled into a couch and turned the TV on, looking secretively gleeful. If anybody came in, he'd swear he just had this particular show on for background noise while reading/studying. Or that he had a gremlin bite. Yes, that would work. He clutched the remote as trumpet music and an announcer's voice filled the room-

"Live from Hollywood! This is Dancing with the Stars!" or whatever the meta version is if it exists.

[Open as a common room is. Yes, I am engaging in a bit of shameless pepperjacking (i.e. projecting my own tastes onto a character) here.]

There were times that Sky let his inner dork out in public.

They were rare, but it happened.

Today was one of those times. He had decided to take his much-neglected model of the Protector into the common room so he could spread out more and finally get a good amount of work on the thing in rather than having the clutter of pieces set in piles all over his desk and half his bed.

Currently, he was using a pair of tweezers to place weetiny crew members into their weetiny seats on the weetiny ship's bridge. He was so focused, he didn't notice that his tongue was sticking out the side of his mouth, or that he was peering at the weetiny pieces with all the intensity of a hawk eyeing a mouse for his next meal. This was a delicate, serious procedure, after all.

A pitcher of tea and some cups sat out for anybody who might be passing by.

[Open as a common room tends to be.]

Sky had decided to come down to the gym after dinner to practice his martial arts before the club met again. He'd been slacking on his training severely (at least in his mind), and didn't want to keep letting himself go while he was at Fandom, as he knew it would be his downfall when going back home to S.P.D. That and he wanted something to distract himself from the fact that he and Troy hadn't seen each other nor spoken since Sunday night...

He's probably just busy with schoolwork or something, he chided himself as he stretched. You can't spend every minute of every day together. Stop assuming the worst, or else you're going to make yourself depressed again.

He then got up and began doing his usual drills, quickly getting into the familiar rhythm of his workout routine. Punches, kicks, blocks... over and over... concentrating on repetition, throwing his whole being into it, his mind becoming intently focused on what he was doing, drowning out everything else. For now.

[Open, as gyms tend to be.]

Sky had decided to come out into the common room, thinking that a slight change of scenery from the four walls of his dorm room would somehow help him out of the deep depression he'd settled into when Troy had left after their snuggle Saturday. He was armed with a bowl of popcorn and his class notes from that week, in attempt to concentrate on his studies in spite of that being the last thing on Earth he wanted to think about, and flipped through the channels to find something decent for background noise, finally settling on a news channel.

[Open as a common area is. Also, the only reason he has popcorn is I wanted to use this icon.]

Sky had slept badly. Sometime around midnight he'd woken up with the most horrible, uncomfortable, bloaty and crampy feeling in his stomach. He had no idea what he could have eaten that made him so uncomfortable, and swallowing a few antacids didn't seem to help matters. He'd finally fallen into a very uneasy sleep a few hours later, only to rise at his usual early time feeling... not like himself. He was downright depressed, almost wanting to cry, for no real reason. Sky NEVER wanted to cry. His worries about Dru, which had begun to ease yesterday, had returned and smacked him even worse, though he couldn't have said why.

Sky finally went out to the lobby and made a pitcher of hot tea, pouring himself a mug and leaving the rest out on the table with a card reading "Free tea to anyone who wants, from Sky in 407" in neat handwriting attached. He then curled up miserably on the couch, armed with a stack of borrowed comic books, his tea, and a bowl of popcorn. He flicked through the TV channels, settling on a news channel for background noise, and began to read. He wondered vaguely if this was anxiety, or... something else.

[Open, as a common area is. Poor PMSy Sky.]

After labeling and putting away all of his groceries (not that he didn't trust Michaelangelo; it was the police cadet in him), Sky had decided to seat himself in the common area rather than shut himself up in his room. His only company at the moment was a bowl of freshly-popped popcorn, the precious Grape Judas Squishy he had purchased earlier from Turtle & Canary, and the Fandom High manual, which he was in the process of memorizing back-to-front. He thought about bringing out his CD player or turning the TV on, but decided he liked peace and quiet better.

And anyway, he had a feeling "peace and quiet" didn't last too long around Fandom.

[Open to all. Common room, isn't it? If you ask Sky nicely, he may even share his popcorn.]