[ten P.M, on the dot ... someone's journal flips itself open of its own volition]
Ohnononono. No. Don't you -- I swear to God don't you kill him off or I am throwing this book across the goddamn room --!
[lengthy pause]
[THUD!]
Arrrgh! [drags a hand through his hair and pushes his glasses up on his forehead] Shit, what time is it, anyw--- ohfuck.
[and then there's the sound of a sixteen-year-old tornado hitting Mark's room as he kicks off his sneakers - crash, bang! - rummages through his laundry until he finds his trusty bowling shirt, knocks over a pile of CDs in search of his well-loved Best of Leonard Cohen album, and finally slams it into the stereo.
he'll let it play while he gets his Hard Harry feet under him ... all of Everybody Knows, and a good part of
the track after that]
So, hi there. Socially inflammatory remarks! Wry commentary! Scathing criticism! Scintillating innuendo! [claps his hands] LIST of NEW PEOPLE.
You know what I wanna talk about today? Schedules. And how stupid they are.
Actually? No. What I think I really wanna do is play the first random fuckin' CD I set my hand on, and you can all tell me I should be playin' somethin' else, because that's all we ever really do here, right?
C'mon. Opinions. I want 'em. On anything. EVERYTHING. I don't care if it's Slenderman, the castle, the new Treehouse thing that this Sora kid just put up, or the fact that you've got a loss that makes lemon sherbert taste like gym socks.
Hit me with it.
[and with that, you all get Panic at the Disco's
A Fever You Can't Sweat Out. Enjoy.]
((OOC: Mun hates daylight savings time and thought she still had an hour to do this. WHOOPS. Links to relevant events to follow, here in the OOC comments.))