bigdamnprincipal: (i am glancing up)
[personal profile] 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!]
[identity profile] onapalebicycle.livejournal.com
The fourth floor common room had been transformed. Do not ask how the best talk show hosts ever had found a disco ball to hang from the ceiling, one that showed off their matching white double-breasted pantsuits. They were here to sing about politics and chew bubble gum, and they were all out of gum.

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

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

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


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

(There will be OCD for this. OCD UP! Come be a guest on the show, or a member of the studio audience, or stand in the back with a camera! JOIN US.)
[identity profile] 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!]
[identity profile] rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com
Rilla had noticed that the volume level on the fifth floor seemed slightly higher today than she was used to, but she (being her normal size and having no roommate other than Jims) brushed it off in favor of heading to the common room and starting to prepare lunch: soup and toast for her and a bottle of milk for Jims.

Just another Saturday in Fandom, right?

[OOC: Mwahaha.]
[identity profile] 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.
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Today, the table in the fifth floor common room was covered with all kinds of (moddable) snacks. Pretzels, popcorn, chips, candy, you name it. There was punch, of the dubious red and fizzy variety, with a lump of sherbet floating in it. There were 2-liters of every kind of soda imaginable. And there was a stack of pizzas, piping hot and greasy.

But all of that was backdrop.

Because the focus of the attention in the room was the television -- not the normal common room tv, which had been set off to the side, but Squall's giant high-def flatscreen and surround sound system. When you HAD money, you might as well use it, after all. Squall had enlisted the help of the Internet to rent some of the best worst B movies ever made, and they were going to be presented to anyone who stopped by in the highest definition picture and sound quality available.

Scheme 10 From The Galaxy was in there, of course, along with Orc II, but the very first movie hadn't actually appeared on any of the online lists, and it was only by chance that he'd stumbled across it.

On the screen, some sort of asthmatic fiend shambled down the same stretch of hallway over and over. It wasn't scary. It wasn't campy. In fact, the reason the movie hadn't appeared on the internet lists was probably that it was so bad that it wasn't even good-bad, it was just bad. And yet, Squall sat on the couch with a grin on his face, enjoying himself.

Yes, Squall. That Squall. Smiling. Look, it was his birthday, he was allowed, okay?

(Open common room is open!)
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall didn't know what to do about the people getting sick. He didn't know what to do about the creeping grayness of the land, or how to fix things.

There was one thing he could do, though. And he could do it very well.

Beside him lay a pile of dead creatures, slowly leaching foul fluid into the grass. Some of it was blood. Some of it was green and globby, or thick and black and inky, or a purple that almost seemed to glow. Where it had spattered on Squall, it sizzled and slowly burned away at his leathers.


None of the twisted animals were going to get NEAR the front door of the dorms -- not if he could help it.

(Open like an open thing!)

[ETA: LJ is being a sucky thing right now and not sending me notifications. If I accidentally drop a thread, smack me via email or IM.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall was bored, so he was flipping through channels on the television. He could have been doing that on the expensive television in his room, sure, but...

No, he wasn't out here wanting to meet and talk to the new kids. Shut up.

At any rate, he'd happened across "The World's Strangest UFO Stories", and was just... confused. The narrator was insisting that aliens were invading some place called Scotland, and it somehow involved the Holy Grail not being in a place called Rosslyn.

(These people are all complete idiots. They're just asserting things without any evidence.)

He got some chips and settled in to watch.


(Open common room is open! Please come bother the Squall, because I suck and he hasn't been out and about in ages.)
stars_and_money: (That doesn't please me.)
[personal profile] stars_and_money
After his one class of the day, Jeremy thought he deserved a lazy afternoon. (Yes, despite the fact that he had barely done anything in said class. Shush, just be glad he chose to somehow rationalize his laziness today.) He got himself a bunch of food (mostly snacks) and soda and camped out on one of the common room couches, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. The channel the TV turned itself on to didn't catch his interest, but no matter. He could just click-click-click his way to another channel.

About half a dozen clicks later, he was noticing a problem. Namely, that a children's show featuring pudgy fleece humanoid creature things with monitors in their bellies was on. On every channel. Every single one of them.

"... Uhh."

Jeremy got off the couch to try and smack the TV into behaving. The screen flickered once, but other than that it was no help. He tried turning it off. It refused to do that. "Aw, man." And he'd been so enamored with the idea of lazing in front of the TV all afternoon, too. He was already looking towards the doorway in the hopes that someone more technically-minded would come along and save him.

[ooc: IDEK, maybe the 5th floor TV set really hates rich kids or something? Open common room, entirely moddable Teletubbies!]
trigons_child: (Considering)
[personal profile] trigons_child
After all the candy and sugary treats devoured when most of the island's inhabitants were transformed into children, Raven was very careful to provide a lot of healthy snacks for this meeting of the Reserves. There were fruits and veggies and whole grain goodness, but in the end she'd caved enough to provide some sweets as well.

"We are celebrating the end of the semester," Raven said to begin the meeting. "We have survived not only our classes, but everything that Fandom -- and our own worlds -- have had to throw at us. We thought we would take this time to take a break from the stress of finals and relax among friends, though perhaps we can also speak of what we have faced over the past several months and what we learned from it, about ourselves and our companions and our abilities."

"I think the most important thing I learned," Tara began, "and this might sound cheesy, is -- trust yourself and trust your friends. I've seen people do amazing things. Things they, they would have sworn they couldn't do if you'd asked. But stress people out enough, and bam. Magic happens. Not just literal magic, either."

"But there are always consequences to your actions," Karla added, sounding a little subdued. "And those consequences can have much further-reaching effects than what you might expect. Be careful of those around you, especially your friends. Just because they are likely to forgive you doesn't mean you have the right to treat them poorly, even for the sake of the 'greater good.'"

"Sometimes you owe your friends more than that," Dolf piped up. "Sometimes the 'greater good' is your friends, and sometimes you need to just look out for them to get the right things done." Not that he had any idea what Karla might have been referring to, but it had been his experience. "So we want to talk about it, and help make this part of the preserve a nicer place for today. Just to talk about the things we have done this year, and what they mean. Because everything means something, and everything we fight for is something important."

The boy was really ridiculously earnest.

"For my part, I have learned much the same as Tara has said," Raven said. "No matter how frightening something is, no matter how ashamed you are of something that is happening to you, you should not keep it to yourself and deal with it alone. The friendships forged in Fandom are strong, and our unique abilities and upbringings may bring valued insight into one another's problems. None of us are alone here."

She smiled and looked around at each of the students attending the meeting. "And if you have any words of advice for new students that will be arriving in Fandom, we would like to hear those as well."

[Co-written with the fabulous [livejournal.com profile] glacial_witch, [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow, and [livejournal.com profile] swordsandsoccer.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall was tired -- exhausted. Ever since he'd woke up in bed with the crazy girl yesterday, he'd been out searching the island for Sis. She had to be somewhere, didn't she? He was going to find her! Except she was all gone, and he'd looked everywhere.

Amazingly, while he was out searching for Sis, he hadn't managed to find anybody else, either. Maybe he was just bad at looking for things.

(What do I do now?)

(Am I... all alone?)


Well, what he was going to do NOW was munch on some chips and soda and watch TV. Maybe later he'd shower off the dirt and twigs and sap and blood and everything else that covered him head to toe. Then, tomorrow, he'd either go looking again or sit and mope. Sitting and moping was starting to sound pretty good.


(Open common room)
angelo_wings: ([art] love gives you wings)
[personal profile] angelo_wings
Sadly, the book about Mr. Fitzwilliam's sister had taken a turn for the melodramatic, and not in a good way. Miss Austen's excellent novel had been about a social faux pas here, or a miscommunication there, and not dramatic kidnappings set in the middle of London.

And so the book had been tossed aside -- perhaps not permanently, but certainly for now -- and Rinoa was instead in the common room, flipping through television stations and trying to find something to watch.

Everything seemed geared towards the upcoming winter holiday, whether it was a friendly snow monster coming to life, or a reindeer with a glowing nose. Rinoa didn't mind. The winter holiday specials were cheery.

She made some hot cocoa and settled down to watch.
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
The robot babies just wouldn't stop crying. Well, they would, and Squall had sort of gotten good at making them shut up, but they just started back up again a few minutes later. He'd tried Silencing them, but although that helped him not break the stupid things, it probably wouldn't do good things for his grade on the assignment. Better that he hear them and deal with them, then. Whatever.

It was either desperation or inspiration that prompted Squall to summon Carbuncle. Maybe a little of both. At any rate, there was now an adorable little Guardian Force keeping the things entertained while Squall sat and glared at the TV. And as an added bonus, the robots would also be impervious to magic for a little while afterward.

Squall's NEXT problem was that he couldn't find anything to watch that didn't suck. Big surprise, there.
brat_inslayage: (Drill Sergeant (Get It Done))
[personal profile] brat_inslayage
Today, there was a notice set out in the usual place for the reserves group to pack it on up and meet at the Salle, where they would find an assortment of weapons set out, mostly of the 'blunt force trauma' variety.

Fun times with beating on one another today!

"Heya, guys!" And girls, all of whom, Zack was pleased to note, seemed to be back to their usual varying standards of normal, today. He hoped. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday and the mustard attack again. "We thought that today would be a good day to get into handling weapons again, since most of us got to take it easy over break week, and all. No blades this week, but we do have some batons and things like that to work with."

"Nothing you can puncture each other with," Kennedy had to put in. Because that way occasionally lay accidentally dusting your friends. Oops. "Which isn't to say you can't hurt each other a hell of a lot with this stuff, so do we have to remind you to be smart about it?"

"If you don't think you can manage to keep from bludgeoning someone with the batons, we have those noodle... things from last time," Maladicta added. Because there was just no cool way to say 'pool noodle'. Unfortunately.

"So," Zack said, grinning, because... really, there wasn't any way to talk about pool noodles without being seriously uncool, sorry Maladicta, "grab yourself a baton and pair off to spar, but be careful about it. If you're not familiar with the weapon, people can get hurt, and we don't want any clinic visits today."

... He totally had his hot pink pool noodle slung over one shoulder again. Just because.

And got a smack upside the head with a purple noodle. But whoever could have done that? Certainly not Maladicta!

Or Kennedy. Because hers was the dark blue one aimed at his shoulder.
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
The only thing MORE annoying than the small herd of unicorns stalking Squall was the fact that they'd followed him into the dorm out of the rain. He took off his jacket and sat down on the couch, and they all clustered near.

"*NEIGH!* You're honest and trustworthy!"

"*NEIGH!* You're a very good fighter!"

"*NEIGH!* People feel safe when you're around!"

"*NEIGH!* You're very good-looking!"

"*NEIGH!* You're very strong!"

Squall glared at them. He hadn't killed them yet, but he was considering it.

[Open like a lobby.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall stood on the roof.

Ayup.

For once, he actually wasn't thinking anything. His mind was completely empty as he stared down at the sidewalk in front of the dorms. He breathed deeply, watching intently the movement of the birds, the people walking below, the waving of the leaves. He listened to every sound, especially ones coming from the door behind him that he was definitely not looking at.

He was in full-on stakeout mode, examining every possible input from his senses for signs of a threat. Because if he did that, he didn't have to think about the stupid onions from yesterday. Or how comforting it had been for Rinoa to hug him afterwards.

Beneath him, things carried on with their day.

[Open like a roof.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall had come into the common room to grab a snack, sit on the couch, and stare at the floor. He was buttering a slice of toast when the gaggle of onions arrived to harass him.

"You don't really like being alone." "You're always alone because you don't know how to relate to other people." "You lie to yourself constantly." "You hate yourself." "You're going to drive Rinoa away." "Your father left you before you were even born." "You killed your mother when you were born." "Your sister was taken from you." "Your friends forgot who you were." "Everyone leaves. Everyone." "You're rude." "You're pretentious." "You're a hypocrite." "You're not even a good soldier." ... On and on and over and over and over. There must have been at least a hundred of them, all crowding around him and all talking at once.

With a roar of pain and tears in his eyes he spun around, wielding the butter knife. Within this span of a few seconds he lashed out at them again and again, cris-crossing the room many times over in the longest Renzokuken he had ever executed. The string of attacks didn't have a finishing move, this time -- he just sort of stopped and surveyed his handiwork. The silence of the no-longer speaking onions was deafening.

He breathed heavily, drawing in air in deep, painful gulps. The butter knife slipped from his suddenly limp fingers. Every single onion slowly slid apart into several pieces.

So did the table, and one of the chairs. Oops.

[Open common room is open, if you want to risk it.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall stood on the roof, gazing off into the distance. He wasn't looking AT anything in particular, just sort of staring. Who knew? Maybe the fish would come back.

He wasn't emo, he wasn't moody, he wasn't introspective, he wasn't anything like that. He was just staring off into the distance, that was all. Couldn't a guy stare off into the distance without other people making assumptions about his mood?

[Open roof of emo is open for emo.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
When Squall left the dorm this morning, he found himself beset by a random encounter swarm of miniature Fastitocalons. Whatever.

He didn't leave the dorm WITHOUT his gunblade, except when he went to class, so he was prepared. A few slashes made short work of the monsters, and he found himself disappointed that it was over so quickly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), another swarm headed towards him at the same time that something cast Revive on all the KO'd monsters at his feet. Great. Just great.

He could be here all day.

And he wouldn't enjoy himself. At all. Nope.


[Open for anyone who wants to join the party! Don't worry, it's not limited to three people.]
furnaceface: (Guitar - Acoustic)
[personal profile] furnaceface
It was Ben's fault.

That was Jonothon's story, and he was going to stick to it like glue.

He'd pulled out his guitar, and his amplifier, and he'd staked out a spot on the couch, which he'd turned just enough so that he could watch the door. The television wasn't on, but you had better believe that his amplifier was, and he had a small arsenal of songs memorized for the task at hand.

If anybody was going to try to make use of the common room on the fourth floor today, they were going to have to do it at the risk of being greeted by their very own theme music today, courtesy of Jonothon Starsmore and his electric guitar.

Totally Ben's fault.

[Open! And you better believe that there will be YouTube abuse today.]
[identity profile] onapalebicycle.livejournal.com
George was bored. And so George went to one of those common rooms, picked up the remote, and began channel-surfing.

One station was re-running the movie Hint, and nothing else seemed to be on, so she was going to go with it.

She rummaged in the kitchen to find microwaveable popcorn and settled in for the movie. People could join her, if they felt like it. It was a common room and all.

(Very open!)
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
It wouldn't be accurate to say that that Squall was holding a Welcome Picnic Protest Party, because... well, 1) the idea was stupid, 2) that was a lot of work for something he didn't care about, 3) it wasn't like he was going to INVITE anyone else, and 4) whatever.

The point was, the park outside was going to be filled with all sorts of new people he didn't care about who were probably all gawking at the bizarreness of Fandom in a really annoying way. Since Squall was nearly an adult, and he just seemed to randomly be given responsibilities he didn't want, if he went he'd probably end up having to help the newbies, or worse, be a big brother to someone.

So, he was staying FIRMLY in the dorms, avoiding people.

Yes, in a public common room. No, he wasn't hoping people would join him. He hated people. Shut up.

Anyway, the TV was on and tuned to some pedestrian bile about busting myths, mainly by blowing things up. Squall began to enjoy it in spite of himself.

[Open common room is open!]
puppy_fair: (With The Troops)
[personal profile] puppy_fair
The area behind the dorms looked like a trashnado (that’d be a tornado made of trash) had swept through it: items ranging in size from beads to pencils to furniture and even a few fallen logs were strewn all over the place. Lined up near the group’s assembly area was a small collection of lumpy-looking balls big enough that if you wanted to roll one of them around (why would you want to do that?) you’d need both hands to push. Yes, it was weird, but if it was any consolation there were cookies. Of course there were cookies. This year, it wouldn’t be a reserves meeting without cookies. And -- for some possibly unknown reason -- Skittles. A lot of Skittles. And dorky hats for anyone who wanted one.

...when it came to the Skittles, Kennedy would probably smirk a lot and tell you to taste the rainbow, because she thought she was clever. As for the hats, she had nothing.

“So hopefully you guys are keeping up with training outside of meetings, but last week was stealth,” she began with a mildly odd look; it had been a creative interpretation of the exercise, hadn’t it? “This week we’re doing a strength training exercise.”

“Those ball things there,” Zack said, nodding toward the brightly-colored lumpy things, “stick to anything that’s smaller than they are, and they make that small stuff sticky, too. And as the ball grows bigger, bigger things will stick to it, so long as they’re still smaller than the junkball! So, if you were to roll them around and run over maybe a bucket or a bunch of thumbtacks or a cat, they’d stick!” There was a moment’s pause while Zack went back and thought about all of the words that he’d just said. “Don’t run over any cats.”

“Or small animals in general,” Kennedy added. “Please.”

Jak peered at both of them curiously. “Unless it seems like fun,” he added. No, Jak. No. “You never know when you’re going to wind up fighting something that’s the size of a small dog.” Life lessons from Haven, ladies and gentlemen. Listen carefully.

[Open!]
life_inshadow: ([neu] restless)
[personal profile] life_inshadow
"Hi everyone," Tara said tentatively from her position next to the cold campfire. There would be enough sugar during the meeting, so the snacks on the nearby picnic table tended to fruits, cheese and chips, and there were blankets for people who wanted to sit on the ground. "It's been a while since we did this, so we're doing a little bit of a get-to-know-you game. People played it at another club meeting and it seemed to be fun for everybody."

Not dirty. No, really. Even if suggesting it kinda sounded that way would have made Tara blush a lot.

She held up a bag of Spree left over from the mural and explained, "We're going to go around the circle and everyone has to say their name and one fact about themselves. If it's true for you, too, raise your hand or make some noise and you get candy. H-hopefully by the end of the meeting everybody has a wicked sugar buzz and we all know each other a little better."

Karla grinned at the bag of sprees, knowing exactly where that came from. "Now, while it's really easy for everyone in this group to find things about themselves that are unique to them, that's not really what this game is about. We want to find things we have in common and also get that sugar buzz Tara mentioned."

"But if there is something you do not feel comfortable admitting to, you are not required to ask for the candy," Raven added. "This is all supposed to be for fun." She just may have seen how these games were sometimes played when alcohol was involved and the statements got...interesting.

"Fun and candy," Francine amended. "So if you feel you haven't got your full dose of sugar when it's all over, you're welcome to grab some more, even if the only thing you have in common with anybody else is liking candy."

Tara glanced around the circle. "If nobody has questions, let's start."

[OOC: With thanks to [livejournal.com profile] thatsamilkshake and [livejournal.com profile] brat_intraining, who came up with this icebreaker to start with. Also cowritten with [livejournal.com profile] glacial_witch and [livejournal.com profile] trigons_child.]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall clutched a bouquet of roses to his breast and got down on one knee in front of Rinoa's door. He took a deep breath, and began belting his declaration of love to the heavens.

(cut to save your eyes from the extreme cheesiness) )

[For one in particular, but open for gawkers.]
[identity profile] unborn-renegade.livejournal.com
Today, the reserves group had been handwavily informed to meet near the treeline by the cabins. They'd also been informed to wear clothing that they didn't mind seeing get wet. The reason for this would probably be made perfectly clear the moment they gathered, considering the assortment of water guns and water balloons that were set out nearby.

Zack was grinning, with the biggest water gun he could find resting neatly on one shoulder as he surveyed the group.

"Today, we're going to combine a bit of what we've already covered, back when we had Jak and Triela show us around the guns, with a little bit of something new. You never know what kind of enemy you're going to face when the island gets invaded. Fandom has proven that much again and again. But one thing you should know is what sort of tactical advantage you can gain from your surroundings."

"And think three-dimensionally," added Kennedy, who had a much smaller pair of matching water guns in her hands and kept eyeing Zack's gigantoid one with a mix of envy and dubiousness. With a wry smile, since she still hadn't forgotten the rather dramatic lesson she'd gotten about it in Kaeleer, she kicked at the groundcover. "And keep the terrain in mind, too, especially if you're not used to stuff like fighting in the good ol' outdoors. Hey, we know it's freaking hot out, and we're making you run around in it, so-- water guns. But don't get the idea to just stand there and get hit to cool down, okay?"

"Same thing as last time," Jak agreed, "In reality, if you get shot, you're dead." These things were pretty simple. "Bonus points for anyone who rakes up a headshot count. Let's get some hair wet, guys."
glacial_queen: (Sapphire-Jeweled Queen)
[personal profile] glacial_queen
There were two tables at the front of the meeting today. The first held the requisite snacks and drinks that people expected from their meetings, but the second was covered in skeins of silk, hollow wooden frames, a few small baskets of dried plants, some salt, candles, incense, and a few books.

"Kiss kiss and thanks for coming," Karla greeted when it looked like everyone had assembled. "In the past, we've talked about the different kinds of magic there are. My Craft differs from Tara's magic which differs from Raven's powers. But even a single witch or magic user may need many tools to cast the spells they know. Some spells can be accomplished with a thought or by will alone, others may need somatic and verbal components to be spoken aloud or specific hand gestures. And others still need materials. Again, because there are so many different kinds of magic, what materials are needed for a spell or ritual will vary from person to person and spell to spell--" she gestured to the second table "--but oftentimes, there is a bit of overlap."

"At home," Tara added, "you need ingredients for just about any spell, unless you, um, kind of go overboard with power. But that'll just drain you. And besides" -- she shrugged -- "most burning herbs smell kind of pretty. Helps you focus while you're chanting."

"Incense and candles also are sometimes a helpful aid for meditation," Raven said, "which can aid in focusing your powers, as can something like my chakra." She touched her fingertips to the red jewel on her forehead, then continued. "My healing gifts do not require any sort of spell components, but other spells I know do need some sort of object to focus them on, an item for the magics to be contained within." She swept her hair back so that the glow of her earrings could be seen. "These were originally simple gold earrings, but I have attached a spell of light to them. For the spell to be most effective, they had to be of pure gold and finely crafted. The better the quality of the item, the more powerful the spell."

"It's important to learn and understand some basic spell components," Karla continued. "On the one hand, if we're under attack and need to cast a spell, knowing what items are at hand will give you a better idea of what spells can be cast. Knowing the difference between rosemary and rue might be vital, especially if the magic user casting the spell can't be with you when you're collecting the materials for the spell. And, should you ever be in a position to observe an enemy spellcaster, it's good to know a little bit about what they're doing, too. Will knocking the candle over interrupt the spell or just alert the caster to your presence? If you scuff the summoning circle, will you send the evil demon back to its hell dimension or just let it loose on Fandom?"

These were some pretty important questions, okay? No one wanted to deal with ravening demons on the loose.

"So today, we're going to spend some time talking about some of the material components to our spells. Then, we're going to talk about where to find those components and the best ways to interfere with spells that rely on them."

"They kept telling me I'm not allowed to say that you'd find the stuff I use to make magic at 'Dite's," Emmett added with a grin. "So this is me not saying that, and just shutting up and listening this week."

[Co-written with the amazing [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow, [livejournal.com profile] trigons_child and [livejournal.com profile] hazlehurstmiss. Please wait for the OCD is up and has been for awhile. *facepalms* Many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] ancientbschamp for pointing that out to me.]
puppy_fair: (Crouch and Grin)
[personal profile] puppy_fair
The Reserves members had been handwavily notified that they would be meeting in the Danger Shop, since a combat exercise was the agenda of the day. Kennedy, for one, looked far too excited about this.

And she wouldn't be the only one! Zack was doing an admirable effort to keep from bouncing on his toes as he looked out over the reservists who had gathered.

Hey, Guys! )

[Open!]
[identity profile] rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com
Glancing up occasionally to make sure the clouds didn't turn to rain and ruin her letter, Rilla leaned her back against a log and finished up her weekly correspondence to her brother Walter.

She hadn't tried to light a fire, but she had brought out some strawberries to share if anyone passed by.
mississippiqueen: (checking that out)
[personal profile] mississippiqueen
Today, there was something missing. Something whose absence made everything about this meeting of the Magic Slash Support Reserves desperately, desperately wrong.

No, not everybody with magic powers; nobody was invisible today. This was so much worse: the table next to the leaders held NO FOOD! It held nothing but a pile of scarves, in fact.

"Now, now, nobody panic," Emmett called out, raising his hands in a slightly defensive movement just in case they were really as hungry as they looked. "The goodies are here. They're just behind us." He stepped aside to point to a spot a good hundred feet back, where another table could be spotted. "You guys did really well with helping each other out when things went kabloonkie last week, so this week, we're gonna build on that with a teamwork and communication exercise. Which I'd be the first to call lametastic under other circumstances, but guys, guys. There's cupcakes at the end of it!"

"So." He pointed to the open area of grass between the food and the group leaders. "Today? That grass is lava. There's a path through it marked out in duct tape, but you can't step off or bye-bye designer footwear which by the way I hope you didn't wear. Go to the end of the path, grab yourself a cupcake for you and one for your partner, and then make your way back! Easy like peas!"

"Well, maybe not quite that easy," Karla said, grinning a bit. "See, the reason you need a partner is because you're going to be blindfolded." One of the scarves on the table floated over to her and she held it up for them to see. "Trust and communication, remember? You're going to have to trust your partner to get you to the cupcakes, without having you step in lava, or in any of the other ingenious traps we've set about the course." The expression Karla was wearing suggested that she was looking forward to seeing them maneuver said traps.

"The easiest way to do this is via verbal communication, of course, but be creative if you can. Pair up with a telepath and have them look through your eyes or attempt to broadcast your thoughts, especially if you're unused to telepathic communication. Use magic to somehow guide your partner through--and then don't use any for yourself. Levitate someone over the lava if they're about to fall in. Be creative and go beyond your comfort zone. Nothing is against the rules, as long as you have fun."

[OOC: Open! Co-writ with the lovely and evil [livejournal.com profile] glacial_witch, [livejournal.com profile] trigons_child and [livejournal.com profile] life_inshadow.]
[identity profile] pastmewrong.livejournal.com
Today was bound to be a shitty day for Effy.

Carried around enough issues as it was, without them suddenly sprouting up in luggage all over the fucking place. Really didn't want to be dealing with any of this. There was a reason she liked her denial.

Island didn't seem to care, though. Suitcase labeled with 'watched sibling get hit by a bus' as a giant reminder of one of the worst moments of her life was just the first thing to pop up. Just great. It got a blanket thrown over it in no time at all. That left her with an easily hidden 'beat someone with a rock' backpack to throw into a drawer, and kicking of a 'defective parenting' overnight bag under the bed in her alcove. Well, that and the hope that vacating to the campfire outside would help.

Which no, just had her glaring at the large box helpfully marked 'trust issues' which got dumped in the soon blazing campfire with no hesitation at all. At least out here any baggage that showed up could be disposed of immediately.

[[Open campfire, like they are!]]
puppy_fair: (Fistpalm)
[personal profile] puppy_fair
"Hey, guys," said Zack once people seemed more or less assembled for today's reserves meeting. "Since we're working on getting involved in some more in-depth exercises in the future, I thought that maybe keeping it simple today would be for the best. You more or less know one another by now, I think, but do you know how the other people here in the group work?" He grinned a bit, and then shrugged. "Unarmed sparring. Grab a partner and go at it. Don't do anything to seriously hurt your partner, though. I want to see you going for grabs and holds and light contact, but not force. We want our crew in one piece, here. And if someone does get hurt, come see me. I have potions, or else I can help haul your butt to the clinic."

The look that he was wearing was one of those very serious looks that suggested that he would be very displeased if it came down to hauling anyone's butt to the clinic, okay. And considering the bouncy puppy that he was a semester ago, it probably seemed all the more severe if you happened to know Zack.

"Before we get started, I want to announce the other two leaders who will be stepping up to help me lead the group. Jak and Kennedy both have some excellent ideas about further training exercises, and they've both agreed to take leadership roles here, and so if you see them be sure to give them a pat on the back, or at least a little respect, okay?"

Whatever your idea of respect was.

[Open!]
[identity profile] whateverknight.livejournal.com
Squall sat on the couch in the common room. Not HIS common room -- that was one floor up. This was Rinoa's common room, and every so often he leaned so he could see her door down the hallway.

It wasn't stalking, really.

He also had the television on, and was flipping through the channels grumpily. Everything sucked. Of course it did -- television was just a crutch for the feeble-minded to fall back on because they couldn't think of anything better to do -- but he was BORED and there was nothing good on.

Glaring at the television didn't seem to help.

[Open common room is open!]

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