nookiepowered: (surprise (holy crap))
No students in the halls, no likelihood of trouble, perfect day to catch up on the paperwork bits of Bo's alcohol-free job, right?

Why she'd expected to find her office unmolested at all, let alone after Kenzi's graduation, Bo had no idea, but she still ended up standing in the doorway staring like a dope for a bit.

It didn't help that the second she opened the door, she was hit in the face by an unfortunately-shaped balloon arrow, launched across the room from a carefully-rigged and really kind of impressive balloon bow.

Balloon swords dangled from the ceiling. Balloon... she guessed they were supposed to be land-mines...littered the floor.

Her stuffed mountie moose sat on a filing cabinet armed with a balloon M-16, which Bo though was a little excessive for the RCMP until she tracked across to his target: the giant rubber duck sitting in her chair.

Wearing a postman's cap and wielding what she really really hoped was supposed to be a cannon.

"And here I was afraid it was gonna be a boring day at the office."

[Open; decoration-modding and duck-larceny performed with multiple blessings.]
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))
It was one of those days.

Not one of Those Days, thank God; Bo had two of everything she was supposed to have two of and none of everything she was supposed to have none of and she wasn't singing or standing on a crate to make milkshakes.

It was just one of those days when, three days after finding out the hard way that using Tiny as a barometer of drink-strength was only slightly smarter than kissing a fish, she was sitting in her office, going through her e-mail, and finding out the harder way that no one should let her near a computer on Saturday nights.

"I signed up for what?"

OkStupid  logoHi, theboobsthingwasatypo!

Welcome to the best dating site in the multiverse! We know you're anxious to start using the site and checking out our kabillions of active users.

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Facedesk.

[C'est open!]
nookiepowered: (surprise (the hell?))
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, God, what did I drink?" was Bo's first question slash blanket-muffled moan. Though surprisingly that was mostly about how exhausted she was - no hangover to speak of. The taste in her mouth, though... "What did I eat?"

Bo really, really, really hoped, as the events of the weekend tried to crawl back into her conscious memory, that she was asking those questions out loud because she could sense someone's chi nearby, and not because she was going to have to change the pronoun in the previous question to who.

[OOC: for a slightly less wee guest!]
nookiepowered: (surprise (the hell?))
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, God, what did I drink?" was Bo's first question slash blanket-muffled moan. Though surprisingly that was mostly about how exhausted she was - no hangover to speak of. The taste in her mouth, though... "What did I eat?"

Bo really, really, really hoped, as the events of the weekend tried to crawl back into her conscious memory, that she was asking those questions out loud because she could sense someone's chi nearby, and not because she was going to have to change the pronoun in the previous question to who.

[OOC: for a slightly less wee guest!]
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.]
nookiepowered: (action (ready for it))
Of course after all the time she'd spent stuck in this town, it was as easy as walking through a door. Or a gate, or a trellis or whatever it was the clerk from the bakery had rushed out of while Bo was standing near the causeway trying to decide how she was going to pick a Viking. Look for one whose kids had more than the usual number of bruises?

"Where the hell did you come from," when he almost knocked her over, and "Baltimore," with a blink like she was the crazy one for asking, and here she was, in an alley behind a bar on Front Street in the middle of the night.

Cut for minor violence/inappropriate touching/hungry succubus/you get the idea. )

[Off-island, NFB, etc. Up SUPER early for massive SP, for one who knows who he is, except he doesn't yet. DAMMIT.]
nookiepowered: (action (ready for it))
Of course after all the time she'd spent stuck in this town, it was as easy as walking through a door. Or a gate, or a trellis or whatever it was the clerk from the bakery had rushed out of while Bo was standing near the causeway trying to decide how she was going to pick a Viking. Look for one whose kids had more than the usual number of bruises?

"Where the hell did you come from," when he almost knocked her over, and "Baltimore," with a blink like she was the crazy one for asking, and here she was, in an alley behind a bar on Front Street in the middle of the night.

Cut for minor violence/inappropriate touching/hungry succubus/you get the idea. )

[Off-island, NFB, etc. Up SUPER early for massive SP, for one who knows who he is, except he doesn't yet. DAMMIT.]

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Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis.

December 2015

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