Left on a chair in the union, hidden by the edge of a table, lies a simple spiral bound notebook with a red cover. It's a "one subject" kind, college ruled and thin. The front and bag covers are heavily decorated with the expected student scribblings and doodles. The notebook doesn't seem to be dedicated to any particular class. If paged through, it contains several notes on someone named 'James Branch Cabel', what looks like a partial budget of somekind, the names and meeting times of several student activity organizations...... as well as some rather personal notes...
Heather hums as she does something that few would do in Februry turn a small clearing into a camp site. Pine needles and cones become the tinder-heart for a small fire. Heather settles in to stare at the flickering flame.
Sir Quiran sits at the head of the the oval conference table, furthest from the door. On the whiteboard behind him, the words "Equestrian Club" are written in black marker. Before him sits a legal pad and pens. Slightly to one side is a rather thick packet held together with paperclips and staples. He calmly pages through a few pages of notes he's written in the yellow pad, forcing himself to not look at the clock.**And who will show, I wonder, if any? Perhaps a dreamer, worthy of the name? Some fellow Kithain who share my enthusiasm for horses? The one Gallain, Heather, seemed to be the outdoor type. And that's something of an understatement, come to think of it. Ah well. Even if there is but one person who comes, I shall take joy in that. And if not? There is nothing to stop me from seeking my own entertainment.**
((Yes, this is the same area Carver and Heather met in this thread.))Walking amongst the woods, Collin looks around for chimerical trees to prune while he mutters quietly to himself and smashes through the undergrowth, trying to work off some frustrations."I meet a girl who seems nice. She leaves. I meet a guy I can work with who's got a line on material. He leaves. I'm bloody well beginning to take this fricktaculatious crap flockhen personally."He smashes his elbow into a young tree as he passes it. Then begins to swear even more while cradling his elbow.
((This post takes place after this one.))Humming under his breath, Ken sets a lacquer dish with fat sushi rolls on it on a table, next to a number of cellophane bags of soybeans. In honor of the occasion, he's donned a navy blue happi coat decorated with dragons and tigers.After arranging the poster of a blue-haired, horned coquette in a tiger-skin bikini on the wall, he sits back to wait for people to show up.((OOC: Name of building fixed February 13, 2006.))
Collin cuts through the parking lot, chewing on his lower lip as he walks. Taking out a hefty ring of keys, Collin opens the door of an old, beat-up car of no discernible make or model. Sitting in the car, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a toy tribble and a large rubber band. Twisting a few knots in the band and looping it around the rear view mirror, Collin turns the toy into an ornament."Well, Guinea, I have no idea what this is, but it will be living with you for the next little while."Sitting back for a moment, an unaccustomed smile grows on Collin's face.((I believe that this short scene, due to a flaw I took, costs me a temporary Will Power. How often are they regained?))
Breaking between classes, Jonathan scurries back to his dorm room to pick up his violin and flute, and then jogs down to the music practice room to make use of them.The room is, at the time of his arrival, otherwise empty, and being mostly soundproofed, very little sound escapes, except through the door into the adjoining hallway as he starts playing.
Thomas lies stretched out on his bed, surrounded by his stacks and piles of books. He had been reading quietly for some time. Lying open all about the young brown haired man are books: the sonnets of Shakespeare, Cabell's Jurgen, Cyranno de Bergerac, romantic comedies, romantic tragedies, bodice rippers and harlequin romance novels... Now the musty smell of the pages is comforting as he studies the white ceiling of the dorm room. Within the room, shadows are long and dark; the only sources of light are Thomas' small reading light by his bed and the glow of Carver's desk light. He sighs slightly to himself and glances to the right where Carver's side of the room is. Being horizontal and his library in the way, he can't see if his roommate has gone to sleep. **Hope he's not asleep yet. Heck, I hope he doesn't think I'm nuts!**"Hey... Carver? You still awake?"
Derek moves the last couch into place as the pre-game show lights up the TV screen. He looks over at the table that will hold the snacks and beverages, currently bearing only his contributions. With a satisfied sigh, he heads out to look at the signs pointing the way to his open gathering: