Edward woke up slowly, with a long, luxurious stretch, and scratched the back of his head. He felt a little disoriented, but couldn't figure out why. With a shrug he got out of bed and contemplated wandering out to take a shower.

[OOC: Mun is working tonight, so interaction slowplayed like whoa after 5 p.m.]

I've been out of the loop recently because of work, and now I don't know what's going on. My idiot of a little brother got himself arrested, (he hit a cop car, while intoxicated. He's 19.) people in my family are losing jobs left and right and I'm just overrun with RL issues. I'll hopefully have my head back in the game sometime this week, but, ( Read more... )

Edward was, as he'd been since Tuesday, hiding in his room. Oh, he'd ventured out for classes and food, but that was about it. He was absently reading a book, several others scattered on the floor around him. The door wasn't open, but light was spilling out under it, a good indication that he was up and interuptable.

A pile of assorted ingredients is sitting mostly forgotten on the floor in Edward's room. He is still reading through the bundle of letters he recieved today and frowning occasionally. Once or twice he scowls, and mutters something foul under his breath ( Read more... )

Work is completely kicking the mun's ass at the moment. Since the beginning of Feburary the mun has been off of work two days. And it doesn't look to let up soon at all - the Job of Death (TM) is talking about taking both regularly scheduled off days this week, as well as all of next weekend. The mun, understandably, is starting to go insane ( Read more... )

The door to #229 is propped open by a pile of books. There are small mounds of books all over the room, and if one looks closely enough, one might see a blonde antenna poking above one of the mounds.

[Ed's taking a nap on the floor. Feel free to drop a book on his head or something.]

*cracks neck solidly* Good night. Finally got around to sparring with Al. He kicked my ass, not that it matters. Had a very... confusing Tactics class, because hell, all this random technology crap? I don't get it. I get a lot more of it than I did, but I'm thinking I need to read up on flight, and aerodynamics and all that sort of fun stuff ( Read more... )

Edward is sitting in his room, singing quietly under his breath. He is quite involved in his book at the moment, otherwise he'd probably notice that he was singing. Under his breath. He'd be rather freaked out by it, if he noticed. Especially since he's singing in Russian.

"Moy brat, ya vo vsem vinovat..."He blinks, as if hearing himself, then ( Read more... )

Edward is currently hiding under his covers, and probably won't budge until Saturday, at least.

He is Not Sick. Especially Not From Playing in the Snow. He is just extraordinarily Tired. Anyone who mentions sickness in his presence is liable to get a very groggy automail fist to the face.

( That spectrual anyalsis thing. Because Bridge did it. )

Abominable. Zombie. Snowmen.

What's next? Giant praying mantes from outer space?

...wake me up when I have class.