rose: have a terrible day

[fluthlu]

[Spending fourteen dreadful days in the body of a cat is never fun, but Rose had underestimated precisely how dreadful it could be. She woke up this morning with a horrendous headache, the feeling of fur in places she never wanted it, and the itching urge to wash her face constantly. She couldn't get out of the stupid castle quickly enough.]

Admittedly, being a cat wasn't as agreeable as I had imagined it. It was, in fact, a bit infuriating. I wouldn't recommend the experience, unless you're already accustomed to walking on all fours.

[Bundled up in a jacket and scarf, she's gone outside with a mug of hot chocolate and a small paperback tucked into her pocket. The fresh air and the feeling of being 5'1'' again are enjoyable, but one thing is still bothering her.]

… Did Kanaya Maryam leave again? I noticed her nameplate had vanished.

((ooc: Open for kisses! Come make Rose's day even more terrible!))

Journal the Third

[theabjectauthor]

[the morning dawns somewhat pleasantly, and a certain researcher, journalist, and self-proclaimed coward can be found in the wee hours of the morning, sneaking down the stairs from his tower and making his way covertly across the lobby - a phrase which here means "ducking behind pillars and plush furniture and various decorations so as not to be seen, which does not work quite as well if you are a grown and husky adult, and not the small, lithe child you were when you took your Covert Maneuvering class with S".

Lemony's first stop is the kitchen, but he is not there long before he is ducking back out with a sizeable picnic basket, and then sneaking back across to the elevator. from there, it is only the press of a button and a quick check to make sure the elevator is, indeed, devoid of anyone, before he arrives blessedly on the first library floor.

once he's inside, he winds his way through the stacks until he finds a table that he feels is sufficiently well-ensconced and hidden away ... and then he starts to set up his picnic basket. a pot of tea, some pastries, a nice cloth napkin, a little thermos of fruit juice, a bottle of water to clean up any unfortunate spills .... there.

with a sigh of contentment, he takes out his journal and dictates quietly, as he begins to fix his continental breakfast in kiss-free solitude and safety]

Good morning, everyone. I hope that you are all weathering this holiday season with considerably less stress and anxiety than myself - but given that it is in fact, the holiday season, I would have to say that it would be a miracle if you were.

As far as miracles are concerned, however, I do know a short tale that may put a few of you at ease - or, at the very least, distract you from whatever misfortunes and invasions of personal space that you may have to weather. The tale is called The Lump of Coal, and is mostly nondenominational, though it does cater slightly more heavily to those who celebrate Christmas and are familiar with its traditions. If you care to listen, please, feel free - I shall put up a convenient filter, so that those of you who do not shall not have to.

[Filtered To Those Who Wish To Hear The Tale of The Lump Of Coal]

[and then he'll just go ahead and read you all this. with voices. and emphasis. because he is good at reading stories to people. HAPPY HOLIDAYS, PARA.]

[/Filter]

[you may, of course, feel free to come and hunt him down for theft of tea, pastries, or more importantly, INVASION OF PERSONAL SPACE. catching him en route to the library is perfectly acceptable, too!]

475 ❀

[ino]

[Good afternoon, Paradisa! There is a blonde ninja in a sweater chilling in your kitchen today, casually having a snack. She knocked out all the nutcrackers she could find in there, but of course, that's never good enough, they'll be back.

Still, she's had this happen often enough that it's stopped being horrifying and more like a minor inconvenience in her day. So she'll just be munching on this apple as she dictates into the journal:]

So, is everyone all done with their Christmas shopping? Or are you all procrastinating until the last minute? I guess it doesn't matter since you could just wish up what you wanted, huh ... ?

( Zelos )

[ooc: Open for planned and unplanned kisses ♥]

Syntax Error 25

[wizard_redfive]

[Dairine has been spending most of December camped out in her room. Despite a slight case of cabin-fever, she is in no hurry to leave. Which perhaps is understandable, given that nearly every time she has snuck out someone invariably kisses her. So in her room she intends to stay, with enough books to read the holiday away.

The castle, though, has other plans.

One moment Dairine is reading in bed, the next she suddenly is dropped into the middle of the lobby. With a yelp and a loud THUD, Dairine crashes to the floor, her comic book flying.

The journal picks up some indigent sounds before she speaks up.]

Seriously?! Couldn't you have at least given me a notice before evicting me?

((Open to Christmas kisses, planned or not.))

ƒ023. serial mom

[msattentionspan]

[Anyone passing by the kitchen probably smells the burning. The journal, currently open and being used as a fan is letting the scent of burned cookies waft through the pages. She's not sure what she did wrong, but as the smoke clears, she realizes her mistake.]

Dammit. [She puts the journal down on the counter, open still, as her hands run through her hair. She coughs a bit, but tries to start cleaning up the mess.]

Damn! [She drops the cookie sheet quickly, not realizing how hot it would still be. Her hand will heal fast, but her ego is having a pretty rough day.]

Baking is not as easy as that blonde made it seem.



[ooc: open to all, for kisses or baking shenanigans!]

Seventeen Spoons {Dictated; Action}

[cyan_maid]

[As wonderful as the holiday season is, with its warmth and cheer, and while even Jane can appreciate the kissing hijinks while at the same time wishing they weren't happening, there's been something nagging at her for a while now. It's only now that, as she sits in her room preparing little things for her friends, does she realize what it is, and she scrambles for her journal to let it out.]

...I miss my Dad.

I mean, well, I've missed him ever since I came here, I never stopped. It just hurts a lot more right now. It's going to be Christmas soon, and I'm not decorating the house with him, or baking with him, or shopping with him, or anything... [Her voice cracks slightly.] Aren't you supposed to be with your loved ones at Christmastime?

[There's a long pause, quiet save for a few deep breaths. It seems like someone is determined not to cry over here. Then, quietly,] I think I need to take a walk. Nutcrackers be damned.

[Feel free to reply to Jane over the journal - she'll take it with her as she wanders the halls. Also feel more than free to run into her and give her a Christmas smooch!]

(no subject)

[payback]

[Backdated to several days ago. Rin sounds kind of amused.]

This again...

I guess some traditions, the castle doesn't mind sticking to. If you're inclined to avoid getting kissed by just about everybody, I suggest you make your way to the dead zone outpost. It's up north. There's a teleport circle that'll take you out here if you have the code... that's in the basement. [Though she conspicuously does not share the passkey.]

As for that illness... interesting, again. I suppose plenty of people here don't remember the Giovani doctor who lived out in the dead zone - Giovani are bird people, by the way, they live out there.

Who does remember him? He talked about a sickness, didn't he? I wonder if it was the same one...

( private; )

ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ sɪɴɢ ʜᴇʏ-ʏᴀ ʜᴇʏ-ʏᴀ

[persequor]

[It's the sudden sound of laughter, mid laugh. After a few second of this, it's clear no one knows the journal has fallen open. It's nice the snow. She's fallen back on the ground and tilts her head to catch some snowflakes on her tongue.]

It is not so easy to do, to catch them on your tongue.

I can do it! Ahh! [ The younger of the pair follows the other's lead. ] Ha! I got one!

[Sansa laughs, and when Arya is distracted, she throws a small handful of snow at her mouth.]

Now you've got a lot.

[ A shocked gasp is followed by spluttering laughter as Arya proceeds to pelt Sansa with as much snow as she can. ]