ext_290126 (
tothelibrary.livejournal.com) wrote in
taxonomites2010-03-23 11:01 pm
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[ location: frat house ] wanna get rowdy gonna get a little unruly get it fired up in a hurry
Dawn is used to falling asleep in weird places. On top of books, window seats, things like that. It's just a job hazard when you read until your eyes cross and you just lay down wherever you are and conk out. But given the recent circumstances in Taxon, when she first realizes wherever she is, it's not her room (or even the castle) her first response is panic, sheer and all-encompassing. Angelus--
But there's an empty pizza box under her butt, and the pillow jammed under her head smells weirdly like cornchips. Angelus is a lot of things, but not a cornchip and ratty couch kind of guy. Plus, a quick mental checklist reveals she's: still in her pjs, not tied up, and not bleeding or suffering from head trauma. So: not Angelus.
...Where and what exactly is going on is still a mystery, however. Making a face as she carefully kicks away the suspiciously stained tshirt on the floor near the couch before standing and really wishing she slept in socks. Or shoes. Or maybe biohazard gear.
"Hello?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Dawn carefully navigates her way around empty bottles and crumpled sheets, towards... well, she's not sure what towards, but it can't be worse than the gross couch and weird, stale pillows.
[ ooc: I DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR THE LYRICS also, hopefully this is all right, housemates? Jenni suggested it in the ooc post, and I jumped on it. If anybody really wants to do it instead, let me know.
Also, treat this like a party post; tag, threadjack, whatever floats your boat. ]
But there's an empty pizza box under her butt, and the pillow jammed under her head smells weirdly like cornchips. Angelus is a lot of things, but not a cornchip and ratty couch kind of guy. Plus, a quick mental checklist reveals she's: still in her pjs, not tied up, and not bleeding or suffering from head trauma. So: not Angelus.
...Where and what exactly is going on is still a mystery, however. Making a face as she carefully kicks away the suspiciously stained tshirt on the floor near the couch before standing and really wishing she slept in socks. Or shoes. Or maybe biohazard gear.
"Hello?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Dawn carefully navigates her way around empty bottles and crumpled sheets, towards... well, she's not sure what towards, but it can't be worse than the gross couch and weird, stale pillows.
[ ooc: I DO NOT APOLOGIZE FOR THE LYRICS also, hopefully this is all right, housemates? Jenni suggested it in the ooc post, and I jumped on it. If anybody really wants to do it instead, let me know.
Also, treat this like a party post; tag, threadjack, whatever floats your boat. ]