notajar: (scholar)
Door's studying for Driver's Education. She's not debating whether putting Seely's things in the hallway is actually more trouble than he's worth. She's not that petty.

Mostly. Even if she probably did build up enough good karma last week by helping to find and rescue Bridge and Z, that she can afford a little pettiness.
__
[OOC: For Teh No Longer Drunk Or Irish Roomie]
notajar: (moody)
Door doesn't brood, despite the fact that lying on your bed with your chin on your hands staring at nothing might look like brooding. It's a waste of time, doesn't make things better and it certainly doesn't make you feel better when you're unhappy.

But what's been -- aside from a certain best-forgotten adventure in the library -- a great week ) fetched up on a sour note last night.

It bothers her, this idea of losing a sense you've had since you were tiny. She can imagine being dead more easily -- too easily -- than she can imagine being ... blinded, like that. Yet she keeps trying to wrap her mind around it, and that bothers her too, but there's got to be a reason for it.

So it's not brooding. It's productive. She just doesn't know what it's producing yet.

[Locked to [livejournal.com profile] connernotconnor, lest my brain go splodey. You wouldn't want that all over your friendslist. Icky icky ptang, no.]
notajar: (sprawl)
The corridors are full of sound now, and Door's glad of that. After meeting for final presentations and final exams, classes had ended. Though birthday and holiday parties had provided some excitement, and Seely and Cally had certainly done their parts to keep things interesting, there hadn't been a lot of people to talk to with so many gone home on holiday.

Though the break's been relaxing, the noise of friends returning and new students arriving is welcome, making the place seem less empty and bringing with it the excitement of a new season of things and people to get to know. Door's left her door open to listen to it as she looks over the course catalog for the new term, as well as to welcome any new or familiar faces that might wander by.
notajar: (sprawl)
There's a journal open on the table next to Door's bed. It would say, if you were peeking at it: this. )

But you wouldn't do that.

Door isn't peeking at it either, at the moment. She's hanging her head upside down off the end of her bed and reading her notes on Starling and Dragon, trying to finalize her ideas for the presentation in Miss Poppins' class on Monday. The room-door's open, because she likes hearing people wander past in the hallway, and the occasional snatches of holiday music from someone else's open door.

[OOC: Quite open! *goes back to adding the million tags that happen when you wait three weeks to do a linkdrop*]

August 2007

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