(no subject)
*sometimes it happens -- it's late at night, rosencrantz can't sleep, can't find guildenstern and with no one to bother he needs something to do, so he wanders about the mansion, collecting bits of loose paper, paper colored or lined or once crinkled currency, foil from candybars or pages left out of old manuscripts, and he settles down somewhere to fold them. into frogs, into fish, into cats and flights of butterflies, flocks of cranes, into birds and snails, squirrels and elephants, and even a unicorn -- there are lots of things you can do with paper. it takes time, but rosencrantz has got all night.
when he's done, there are animals all over, scattered across the floor and climbing over tables and couches, peering down from shelves. once he's done, he curls up on a couch, surrounded by his paper menagerie, and finally falls asleep.
it may not be magic, but it is a little odd. it's also probably the first thing you'll see when you come into the common room this morning.*
when he's done, there are animals all over, scattered across the floor and climbing over tables and couches, peering down from shelves. once he's done, he curls up on a couch, surrounded by his paper menagerie, and finally falls asleep.
it may not be magic, but it is a little odd. it's also probably the first thing you'll see when you come into the common room this morning.*