Room 325, Saturday Morning
It was morning, and there was an Arthur in his room, poking through some foods. He was a growing boy, it was winter, he needed a bloody lot of sustenance and he was going to get to that right now.
Or rather, he had been getting to it for quite a while, which explained why he was now hunched over his desk, chewing on a piece of bread in thought as he drafted up some plans for the frat over the coming weeks. For his standards, he was in a terribly good mood: he had hockey to look forward to, he had food, and, well.
Life wasn't too terrible, barring the ever-present itch of not being at home where he belonged. For the moment, at least. (Partly because he was generally good at repressing his angst except for when bits slipped on out)
He was also trying the Teevee again, much like he had every once in a while over the past few months, just to see if it got less... irritating. It did not.
And as it turned out, Arthur also still hadn't mastered the volume controls.
[[ open door, open post, mmyeah ]]
Or rather, he had been getting to it for quite a while, which explained why he was now hunched over his desk, chewing on a piece of bread in thought as he drafted up some plans for the frat over the coming weeks. For his standards, he was in a terribly good mood: he had hockey to look forward to, he had food, and, well.
Life wasn't too terrible, barring the ever-present itch of not being at home where he belonged. For the moment, at least. (Partly because he was generally good at repressing his angst except for when bits slipped on out)
He was also trying the Teevee again, much like he had every once in a while over the past few months, just to see if it got less... irritating. It did not.
And as it turned out, Arthur also still hadn't mastered the volume controls.
[[ open door, open post, mmyeah ]]