Everything the Light Touches
Who: Jordaniel Gyre (READ: The Editor) and any other pups who want to pop on by, including all you suddenly youthful whippersnappers, you.
What: Chillin'. And discussing the weirdness.
When: Uh, now? Daylight? Middle of the day. Beautiful clear weather, sometime after whenever your pup has suddenly turned into a kid, if you're one of that crew.
Where: The roof, somewhere sunny that gets a nice view of the town.
Rating: PG-13, likely, maybe R if they start with the cussin'. Kids these days, rly.
Jordaniel'll intended to give the place a thorough once-over, make sure that things were really as they seemed-really a castle, really not MediU, really not some kind of psych-student simulation that he'd accidentally signed up for.
He'd wandered through about five or six floors before getting bored of hallways. Bored and hungry. So he'd rode the elevator down to the first floor (it was so slow :\ ), found the kitchen, and raided the cupboards. The dishes, for some reason, were all broken, but that hadn't stopped him from snagging some snacks.
Now he's up on the roof, perched on a crenelation and watching the town below. He's wearing just flip-flops and a pair of long baggy cargo shorts-because the sun feels really *good* for some reason, like it wakes him up cold-blooded loss is go. He's got a couple of cans of Red Bull, a bag of Doritos, and a jar of Nutella. All of which the year 200,000 should really have, in his opinion. Good stuff.
What: Chillin'. And discussing the weirdness.
When: Uh, now? Daylight? Middle of the day. Beautiful clear weather, sometime after whenever your pup has suddenly turned into a kid, if you're one of that crew.
Where: The roof, somewhere sunny that gets a nice view of the town.
Rating: PG-13, likely, maybe R if they start with the cussin'. Kids these days, rly.
Jordaniel'll intended to give the place a thorough once-over, make sure that things were really as they seemed-really a castle, really not MediU, really not some kind of psych-student simulation that he'd accidentally signed up for.
He'd wandered through about five or six floors before getting bored of hallways. Bored and hungry. So he'd rode the elevator down to the first floor (it was so slow :\ ), found the kitchen, and raided the cupboards. The dishes, for some reason, were all broken, but that hadn't stopped him from snagging some snacks.
Now he's up on the roof, perched on a crenelation and watching the town below. He's wearing just flip-flops and a pair of long baggy cargo shorts-because the sun feels really *good* for some reason, like it wakes him up cold-blooded loss is go. He's got a couple of cans of Red Bull, a bag of Doritos, and a jar of Nutella. All of which the year 200,000 should really have, in his opinion. Good stuff.