lazy sunday.
Week Name/Date/Time: 'Countdown to Darkness' / Sunday, Oct 23 / 3:17 pm
Location: Gryff Commons
Open to: Gryffs of all shapes and sizes. :D
Currently involving: Sly dogggggg
Thanks to some of his rowdy dorm mates, he'd been toussled out of bed at an hour all too early for his liking, especially on Sunday. Sunday was the day of rest! Even that God fellow said so, seventh day and all that rot! And yet he was awoken at eleven o'clock in the morning (GASP! L'HORREUR!) by shouts of announcements in the Common Room. Sly had stumbled down, still half-asleep, to see what all the fuss was about.
Ahhh, a post on the bulletin board. Hogsmeade Weekend, October 29.
Well, that was good news and all -- think of all the giggling girls just DYING to go with him, as if he could choose -- but he didn't have to be yanked out of bed for such a mundane thing! He managed a yawn at Grady and the crew while they all jostled each other with excitement and the slightly teasing buzz of plans. When asked who he was going to take, he drawled lazily, "Who am I not?" The expected eruption of laughter and slugs to the shoulder ensued; he nodded and waved them off, far more interested in the vacant sofa just two feet away from him.
There he collapsed, still in his striped pyjama pants and sleeveless undershirt. He had been sound asleep since then, a light snore emitting every so often before he would shift positions, limbs sprawled all askew. He was apparently oblivious to the newly gathering chill that seemed to mark the end of fall and embarkment of winter, not even caring to take a blanket with him.
Sly would probably sleep until someone woke him, because... well... WHY NOT?
ZZzzzZzzZzZZZzzzzz...
Location: Gryff Commons
Open to: Gryffs of all shapes and sizes. :D
Currently involving: Sly dogggggg
Thanks to some of his rowdy dorm mates, he'd been toussled out of bed at an hour all too early for his liking, especially on Sunday. Sunday was the day of rest! Even that God fellow said so, seventh day and all that rot! And yet he was awoken at eleven o'clock in the morning (GASP! L'HORREUR!) by shouts of announcements in the Common Room. Sly had stumbled down, still half-asleep, to see what all the fuss was about.
Ahhh, a post on the bulletin board. Hogsmeade Weekend, October 29.
Well, that was good news and all -- think of all the giggling girls just DYING to go with him, as if he could choose -- but he didn't have to be yanked out of bed for such a mundane thing! He managed a yawn at Grady and the crew while they all jostled each other with excitement and the slightly teasing buzz of plans. When asked who he was going to take, he drawled lazily, "Who am I not?" The expected eruption of laughter and slugs to the shoulder ensued; he nodded and waved them off, far more interested in the vacant sofa just two feet away from him.
There he collapsed, still in his striped pyjama pants and sleeveless undershirt. He had been sound asleep since then, a light snore emitting every so often before he would shift positions, limbs sprawled all askew. He was apparently oblivious to the newly gathering chill that seemed to mark the end of fall and embarkment of winter, not even caring to take a blanket with him.
Sly would probably sleep until someone woke him, because... well... WHY NOT?
ZZzzzZzzZzZZZzzzzz...