nookiepowered: (surprised (OMFG))
Saturday's weirdness? It hadn't exactly gone away, but it had died down a bit when Bo hermited herself up in her own place for a few days. Enough that she could talk sanely to insane people and while the delivery guy from Pizza Planet stumbled away muttering about the best tip ever, he was still conscious and vertical at the time, so it counted as a win.

So... maybe it was safe to try venturing out? She had to come into work sometime, after all, and things were still kind of...warm, but not out of control when she stepped out the door into the street.

One walk to school through the oh, so fresh air and twelve sneezes later, she'd found out the answer to that the hard way.

Which was why it was Bo who stumbled now -- out of the janitor's closet.

From behind her came the shuffle-scrape-THUD of someone doing the first three steps of a soft-shoe before giving up and collapsing to the floor with a faint but not unhappy groan.

"Don't you judge me. Don't you DARE judge me!" she stammered defensively to... an empty hallway.

Right. Okay. She'd get to her office eventually, but right now she'd just stay here and hold up this wall for a minute or an hour or two. Until she figured out why, even buzzing with energy as she was now, Bo was still hungry.

--
[OOC: Highly likely to be some flavor of NWS. Expecting two, but open to random encounters of the polleny variety! Though for the sake of not juggling logistics, let's OOCly limit the unexpected to people it's safe to have random polleny encounters with.]
nookiepowered: (security (sitting))
When she'd fallen into bed late last night, Bo had thought that after everything that happened yesterday, she'd want to crash until noon. Instead, after a few hours of exhausted sleep, she'd woken at three to stare at the ceiling and think too much (or maybe not enough) about vampires and werewolves and ghosts, oh my.

By the time the hardware store's delivery bell rang at six, she was beyond grateful for the distraction that the package from the Fandom High office provided. Ooh, the job that didn't involve politely explaining to sixteen year olds why they couldn't have a beer. Keys, I.D. badge, a couple of t-shirts, walkie-talkie, flashlight, a pepper-spray-sized bottle of something labeled Gremlin Repellant (with a pink-post-it note attached that read "Works, but Lemon Pledge is cheaper. We hate the smell. Love, Bob."), a handful of increasingly surreal pamphlets, and a map of the school.

Neatly hand-printed over the back end of a large area labeled Fosse's Closet was [SECURITY CENTER]. Less neatly-printed was "Sorry, we keep forgetting it's there; Constable Hotpants has his own teacher office and Dean Head just used his tube."

Bo wasn't sure which she did (or didn't) want somebody to explain first: the hotpants or the tube. Still. One trip over the wall later (what? it was shorter than walking to the gate), she'd made her way up to the school and let herself into an office with a bank of security screens that thankfully didn't remind her too much of the one on which she'd watched Annie disappear, since these were in color.

Also a spinny chair.

Oh, shut up, you'd try it out too.

[Open is as open does. Hush, there was always a security center behind the janitor's closet.]
nookiepowered: (security (sitting))
When she'd fallen into bed late last night, Bo had thought that after everything that happened yesterday, she'd want to crash until noon. Instead, after a few hours of exhausted sleep, she'd woken at three to stare at the ceiling and think too much (or maybe not enough) about vampires and werewolves and ghosts, oh my.

By the time the hardware store's delivery bell rang at six, she was beyond grateful for the distraction that the package from the Fandom High office provided. Ooh, the job that didn't involve politely explaining to sixteen year olds why they couldn't have a beer. Keys, I.D. badge, a couple of t-shirts, walkie-talkie, flashlight, a pepper-spray-sized bottle of something labeled Gremlin Repellant (with a pink-post-it note attached that read "Works, but Lemon Pledge is cheaper. We hate the smell. Love, Bob."), a handful of increasingly surreal pamphlets, and a map of the school.

Neatly hand-printed over the back end of a large area labeled Fosse's Closet was [SECURITY CENTER]. Less neatly-printed was "Sorry, we keep forgetting it's there; Constable Hotpants has his own teacher office and Dean Head just used his tube."

Bo wasn't sure which she did (or didn't) want somebody to explain first: the hotpants or the tube. Still. One trip over the wall later (what? it was shorter than walking to the gate), she'd made her way up to the school and let herself into an office with a bank of security screens that thankfully didn't remind her too much of the one on which she'd watched Annie disappear, since these were in color.

Also a spinny chair.

Oh, shut up, you'd try it out too.

[Open is as open does. Hush, there was always a security center behind the janitor's closet.]

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nookiepowered: (Default)
Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis.

December 2015

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