Fandom High Dormitories

Steerpike was making a rare appearance in the common room, today. If asked, he would say that it was because there was more room to spread out his notes on the floor as he studied for finals.

The glossy magazine he was looking at currently was totally part of him studying, yes. And my, but that one singer looked a bit familiar, didn't she. . . ?

[ooc: common room is open, as is the custom]

It had been bothering Steerpike since Ares's class. How could Annette expect him to obey her every whim, simply because it was her birthday? Worse, how had he allowed her to fool him into thinking that she might actually care?

It was foolish, the whole damned thing. He would have to step up his plans, just to ensure he did not get fooled again.

Steerpike was in the common room, slouched on a couch, and plotting.

He was also juggling the wee-tiny penguins, which made them give out weetiny "WEEEEEE!"s of delight and fear as they were lobbed repeatedly into the air and then caught again.

[ooc: open, though possibly a touch on the slow side until work ends]

Without classes to attend, Steerpike found himself to be at loose ends. While he was normally more than happy to spend his time alone and studying so as to better understand this place he'd ended up, he found himself growing restless, and as such, decided it was time to go for a walk.

It astounded him that they had an entire week with no obligations. Such a thing would never, ever occur in Gormenghast, where every day was filled with meaningless, yet obligatory tasks to be fulfilled by every person in the castle. Idle free time was only for the Earl and his family, and even they had daily rituals to complete.

These little brats had no idea how good they had it.

More and more, Steerpike felt that he did not belong here, not as a student. He should be more, by all rights. Not randomly turned into ugly rodents or sent to detention by those that claimed to be gods. If an idiot like that Jamie fellow could manage to usurp the throne of principal for a single day, then surely Steerpike should be able to seize control of the town.

He only had to work out how.

[ooc: if you want to poke the megalomaniac while he's plotting, feel free to do so]

Gormenghast was the very picture of revelry that day. ( A new heir had been born )

He lay there panting, his eyes closed and his face pressed to the cool stone, and inwardly laughed.

No more ovens blasting heat onto his skin. No more scavenging for scraps left behind before the grey scrubbers scrubbed them clean. No more apprentices, no more burned fingers, no more Swelter. He was free.

“Free,” he muttered, and then laughed aloud. He pushed himself up to his knees, eyes still shut as he basked in the fresh breeze and stretched out his arms. “Freeeeeeee!”