| Open third |
[May. 1st, 2005|11:25 am] |
Frank lay naked on the dormitory floor.
How long had he been there? A long time.
The floor was littered with empty bottles, butt ends, and the scent of human effluence.
He stared at the ceiling, his hands planted flat on the stone surface beneath him.
Sunday. Time to clean yourself up.
Get dressed, walk off the sleep in your legs, drink some strong tea, and then jack off.
Frankie grumbled as he sat up and reached over the footboard for a pair of pants, which he pulled on with a grunt.
He grabbed a Weezer T-shirt--
Is this Adams?
--and pulling it over his disheveled hair walked down to the bathroom. After a nice long piss he made his way to the common room, and out into the hall. He rubbed his eyes as slowly he felt himself come awake. |
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| heh |
[Apr. 24th, 2005|01:13 pm] |
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| Locked for Adam |
[Apr. 24th, 2005|12:04 pm] |
Frank walked down into the front hall, lighting a cigarette. Funny, the last time he'd walked through that area...
The doors were thrown open. It was like the castle was singing "Happy Times are Here Again." Why were all the students singing funeral dirges?
He leaned on the door post and looked out.
How long would it be before they had to go through this ordeal again. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 23rd, 2005|03:54 pm] |
ADAM!
The forest is empty.
Satan has left.
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHY AREN'T WE OUT THERE?! |
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| HAPPY NATIONAL POT SMOKING DAY |
[Apr. 20th, 2005|03:33 pm] |
Frank was finally out of the hospital wing.
An owl had delivered a small parcle to him at the breakfast table, and uninterested in prying eyes he had put it in his pocket and forgotten until just that moment.
Pot. Lots and Lots of pot.
Frank stopped and stared. He was in the middle of a hallway. Luckily it was late in the day, and likely no one saw.
Why pot? Who sent this?!
There was a note on the inside. He unfolded it and read.
Dear Francis,
Yes, I'm calling you Francis. Happy National Pot Smoking Day. Americans are weird.
-Corky
The hell?
He flipped the note over, but the back was blank.
Is Corky in America? The Americans have a day dedicated to smoking pot?
ooc: Open to anyone who wants to bust me for pot... or anyone who wants to smoke out. |
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| Open to Sixth year backrow kids |
[Apr. 13th, 2005|12:11 pm] |
Frank sat in the back row of his history of magic class. He always sat in the backrow. While on any regular day he would be sleeping, or snorting something he was wide awake, and completely focused. The subject of that focus just didn't happen to be the teacher. It was, in fact, the slip of parchment that sat before him.
He was writing a very carefully orchestrated letter, using the best handwriting that he could muster, which was only part-way legible. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 12th, 2005|11:03 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Your Mom | ] |
Free. Single.
Obey the icon. |
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| Locked, you know who you are |
[Apr. 10th, 2005|08:51 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Walk this Way | ] |
Frankie had sat, alone in his dorm all day. Adam was no where to be found... probably at church.... or worshiping the lesser deity he called Lisa. Frank sat up, tossed aside the butt end of his last, soggy cigarette, and removed himself from the unmade bed. Pulling on his leather jacket, he stormed out of the room and a short way down the hall to the door of the 5th year dormitory. He pounded on it.
"Riley," He hollared, "open up!" |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 9th, 2005|10:54 am] |
( Good adivice for real men only )
Truly I am a master of inner house relations. I've three Ravenclaw friends now, and one of them's my girlfriend. The sorting hat would be proud. |
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