06. everything's coming up hummel
[Action A (reserved for Tybalt)]
[Waking up -- himself again, on Albright Lane -- isn't pleasant. Somehow when he staggers out of bed he expects a hangover to come with it -- and he's passingly familiar with those thank you April Rhodes -- but no, he just feels... neutral. And weird. And needless to say, bad. Not bad like "spend several days crying yourself hoarse, recieve awkward consolation from Shakespeare character, audition for highly ironic role the next day" bad, but bad. He remembers orchestrating his plan to move in at the Louvre Hotel, skipping classes, and after that, nothing.
But the contents of his room have been rearranged, as he notices right away. And wedged in the frame of the mirror with a pin is a discarded boutonnière.
After connecting the dots, he basically just thrusts himself in Tybalt's predicted morning path and hopes Gregg doesn't find him first.
calling worriedly-]
Tybalt-- Tybalt, I'm here, I'm back--
[Action B, Tuesday AM]
[At school as usual, almost violently self-expressive after his period of being droned. He's so crisply dressed and bescarfed that he's kind of rocking the Hitler Youth look, and to his own disgust his hair is staying flawless with the aid of a healthy coat of this ozone-slaughtering magic. But still. He's there. He's present. He's not-drone-y. And he's mingling. You might find him apprehensively introducing himself to your lunch table. Particularly if you're good-looking and non-intimidating, or he's seen you at signups for West Side Story.
As graciously as he can manage:]
... So. Hello.
[Action C, Tuesday PM]
[Kurt is walking his bike back from the store. There are a few new records in their sleeves tucked under his arm, and he looks mildly peevish. Go ahead, bother him, you know you want to.]
[Waking up -- himself again, on Albright Lane -- isn't pleasant. Somehow when he staggers out of bed he expects a hangover to come with it -- and he's passingly familiar with those thank you April Rhodes -- but no, he just feels... neutral. And weird. And needless to say, bad. Not bad like "spend several days crying yourself hoarse, recieve awkward consolation from Shakespeare character, audition for highly ironic role the next day" bad, but bad. He remembers orchestrating his plan to move in at the Louvre Hotel, skipping classes, and after that, nothing.
But the contents of his room have been rearranged, as he notices right away. And wedged in the frame of the mirror with a pin is a discarded boutonnière.
After connecting the dots, he basically just thrusts himself in Tybalt's predicted morning path and hopes Gregg doesn't find him first.
calling worriedly-]
Tybalt-- Tybalt, I'm here, I'm back--
[Action B, Tuesday AM]
[At school as usual, almost violently self-expressive after his period of being droned. He's so crisply dressed and bescarfed that he's kind of rocking the Hitler Youth look, and to his own disgust his hair is staying flawless with the aid of a healthy coat of this ozone-slaughtering magic. But still. He's there. He's present. He's not-drone-y. And he's mingling. You might find him apprehensively introducing himself to your lunch table. Particularly if you're good-looking and non-intimidating, or he's seen you at signups for West Side Story.
As graciously as he can manage:]
... So. Hello.
[Action C, Tuesday PM]
[Kurt is walking his bike back from the store. There are a few new records in their sleeves tucked under his arm, and he looks mildly peevish. Go ahead, bother him, you know you want to.]