somethingwithturquoise: (yay whoo hoo yippee)
[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise
You know, when Summer and Tip had talked about a party to weather through the storm, things hadn't yet been a full blown hurricane. That eventual hurricane had not yet picked up sharks. There hadn't been any sharks crashing into things, there'd only been a little rain, and there definitely hadn't been any ideas being thrown around about cooling down a hurricane to stop it and that freezing sharks was totally a thing.

The fact that all of that had happened by the time Saturday night rolled around only made it more evident to Summer that this was needed and it was needed bad. Because Summer now understood a little bit better that parties could be used for more than just trying to be popular; they could be used to try to forget that there was a freaking SHARKICANE going on outside. But she wasn't low-key panicking deep inside, no, shut up, whatever.

Mood lighting in the form of candles and lanterns and flashlights. Food in the form of leftover pizza and ice cream that they obviously had to eat because it would all go bad with the power out. Music from Summer's phone put into a cup to amplify it throughout the room, Summer's phone which was going to survive on the steady stream of back-up portable chargers she had bought and was going to try to return once this was all over. So now they just needed people, and she hoped they would come, because people felt safe.


[[and I think I might have some OCD lying around here up and ready to go. Open and up early for all your party needs]]
sampippy: ([neg] Look at my forehead.)
[personal profile] sampippy
"What?! It's not even Valentine's day for like another two weeks!"

That sound, up in the fifth floor common room? That was the sound of Xanthippe Voorhees scrolling through her Snapchat and her insta feed and suddenly seeing basically nothing from her friends in New York except, like, cute couple photos and gross PDA videos. A ton of them. Like a flood of them.

What the hell? Was Valentine's Day suddenly in this year?

She was so out of the loop.

And starting to panic about it. Her social media presence was pretty much the only thread she was hanging onto her old life by and if she couldn't get on everyone else's level, she might as well just die right this instant.

"Oh my God."

She needed to plan.

"Wh-- shit."

... Possibly after she'd cleaned up the counter, because she'd kept pouring milk into her bowl of cereal all through being antagonized by snaps, and had only just now realized a fair bit of the milk was no longer strictly speaking in the bowl anymore, but, you know.

[ooc: Open common room is open! Some weekend SP in effect.]
[identity profile] ihuntkillers.livejournal.com
Summer seemed to be on its way out. It was overcast and cool which made being outside a lot more comfortable than when it was nearly one hundred degrees and just breathing made you sweat. Jasper preferred this sort of weather above anything else.

He'd gotten a few messages over the past few days from Doug Weathers, hoping against hope for an interview and from some people that were fans of his father's. They just wanted to let him know they were waiting and hoping that he'd soon take up his father's mantle and become the killer that he'd been.

Needless to say, Jasper hadn't answered any of those. He wasn't a huge fan of Melissa Hoover's but he had to credit her with keeping his location fairly secret. Doug Weathers showing up here would have been a headache and Jasper had enough of those.

He'd gone into town to grab a coffee (not pumpkin spice flavored) and was now dropping into a chair on the deck, head back and eyes closed. He felt like he was just floating through life lately with no real aim and that scared him. If he got bored, things could get...messy.

[Open]
sampippy: ([neg] Ugh unbelievable.)
[personal profile] sampippy
This was unbelievable. This whole school was a mess. Xanthippe had been keeping mostly to herself for the past two weeks, because what even was this place? She hated it here, and she was like, totally sure they were slipping her drugs somehow because there was no other way that class with the ponies made any sense.

But she'd just been on the phone with her mom – again – arguing for why she needed to get back to Connecticut, and how this whole island was a freak show, and it wasn't healthy, come on, it was like totally stunting her mental growth to be here with these people and this environment –– and her mom had said no. She'd said no. Double-you tee eff?

And now Xanthippe was having to dig through a bunch of other people's groceries in the fridge just to get to her diet soda from yesterday.

"Gross. Gross. Gross."

Ugh. She did not approve of your choices of food and beverages, people using the fourth floor fridge. Not at all. She needed a fridge for her room, stat.

[ooc: Open!]

Fandom High RPG



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