dis_acdmy_log | Pitch is kind of a dick okay

Who: Mostly Joe West but if your character has an excuse to be around I don't even care join the party LET'S BE FRIENDS
What: Jack Frost is a strong independent frost spirit don't need no nurse ~~a.k.a. he has a bump on his head and a detention slip in his pocket and is being a pissy baby about it by trying not to tell anybody~~
When: Backdated to opening day, but later in the evening
Where: Joe West dormitory. Catch him in the bathrooms, or sneaking around the halls, or later possibly in room 603
Warnings: Rose says to be sure your character was ICly at the academy if you post here since the log is backdated. Also a wee bit of blood and one small-ish bruise is involved.

Nurse? Psh, Jack didn't need to see a nurse. Except maybe for his wounded pride.

He reached up, tentatively pressing a finger to the bruise on his right temple, and saw himself wince in the mirror in front of him. Yeah, definitely tender. If anybody looked close enough, the purple mark stood out vaguely in the shape of a delicate (Nightmare's) hoof, and there were at least a few spots where the skin had broken and oozed blood, though by now it had mostly dried.

He didn't actually intend for anybody to look close enough, though. He'd just as soon let it heal and not have people asking questions about what in the hell he'd done to get that on the first day.

Irritated - maybe with himself, or maybe with the turn of events that had somehow placed the Boogeyman at the school as well - he crumpled up the pink slip of paper in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. He didn't want to think about it right now. Instead he sat down on the edge of the bathroom sink with a washcloth and tried - emphasis on tried - to clean the cuts off a little with warm water.

That stung too much, though, and would eventually frustrate him enough to give up, at which point he'd pull his hood tight over his head and duck out of the bathroom into the hall, trying his best to go unnoticed for once and make his way to his room.

Screw it, it'll heal itself.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The room, it will be a mess, uniforms being folded and refolded and fit into places that Merida has claimed as hers. There's not really much to her name here. No crowns or royalties or frivolities. She didn't bring a bunch of dresses from home, she wouldn't need them. And her mother insisted she was only allowed to bring her bow, no swords, no shields, and not a barrel full of arrows.

Ugh.

Still, she's making the best of it, and despite her new, very male roommate, she'll do her part to not complain.

Well at least until he comes through the door.

"Well, that took y'awhile."

Jack didn't actually expect Merida to be in the room, mostly because he hadn't been thinking that far ahead, so while he's not annoyed to find her there he'd really been hoping to sneak in without encountering anybody else.

Regardless, he still managed half a smile and to be irritating as usual.

"Aw, did you miss me? I'm so sorry. Next time I'll be sure and hurry home so you're not pining after my presence for hours." His eyes flick up to the top bunk - because whether it's claimed or not, that's where he's decided he's headed. "But for now, bed."

He took a flying leap onto the top mattress and burrowed under the blanket before she could protest, mumbling something about "This is my bunk now, good night!"

She still hasn't noticed the injuries. He's actually doing a pretty decent job of hiding them from her sight.

But she ISN'T letting him take the top bunk with out a fight.

"Oh no y'don't! That's MY bed!"

That loud sound would be her clambering up the ladder to grab on to Jack's foot and attempt to pull the winter spirit out of the bunk.

He couldn't see what she was doing, buried under the blankets as he was, so he had about half a second to wonder about all the noise going before he felt her hand close around his ankle and pull.

O...kay. This was not what he'd expected.

"Ah, no, I don't see your name on it, and I was here first," he responded with fake cheer, voice muffled by the blankets pulled over his head. Stubbornly, he tugged his foot out of her grip and tucked his legs in, curling up in a ball at the head of the bed out of reach. She wouldn't dare come after him, she was already awkward enough about the whole boy roommate thing. "Now again, good night."

Nope. NOPE. The spirit of DunBroch coarses through her veins and she DARES NOT give up here, because this is a war.

"I was here first and y'never even asked!" Okay Mr. Lump on the bed, blanket is getting pulled-- THIS IS A FIGHT TO THE DEATH. "Come out and face me, y'coward!"

Jack just groaned under the blanket, willing her to give up and go away because he was starting to develop a massive headache - and then the blanket disappeared, yanked off by one overzealous princess of Dunbroch. He bolted upright, startled, hair a (more than usual) mess from the blanket and - aw, shit. Bruise right out in the open and visible and everything.

He stared at her for about three seconds. Then rolled his eyes.

"Fine, it's yours. I just want to sleep."

Doing his best to avoid any questions, he rolled off the bed and landed light-footed on the floor. He flopped onto the bottom bunk without another word, crawled under the blankets again, and rolled over to face the wall.

Wh-- Wait. That all happened-- a bit quickly, faster than she could even begin to comprehend.

"You're hurt," She says it outloud as if to confirm it for herself. "Wait, wait just a moment! What happened? I don't remember punchin' you."

Okay, so she doesn't know Jack terribly well, but that won't stop her from worrying. She'll poke her head out from the side of her bed, hair cascading down in some red corkscrew waterfall.

For a couple of seconds, he thought about just ignoring her, hunching his shoulders and sinking deeper into the blankets. He really didn't want to talk about it. Don't respond, don't do it, you already know what happens when you can't keep your mouth shut -

Grumbling under his breath, he rolled back over, cocooned in blankets. A curtain of red curls greeted him.

It hadn't registered with him she had that much hair.

"Are you secretly a horse? Then no, you didn't punch me and then forget about it." He wormed a hand out of the blankets and pointed in a vaguely hoof-shaped motion at the bruise. "I got in a fight. That's all."

Her face crinkles up into a funny expression. Don't mind as she hops off of her bunk on the floor to take a closer look(Not near as graceful as Jack, but she's been hopping off higher ledges since she was half as old as she is now).

"A fight? On th'first day?" She resists the urge to try and examine it further, "Farbeit from me t'pry, but y'don't seem th'type t'get int'fights."

...Actually she'll correct that statement with a huff of breath, "At least fights that don't involve gettin' lassies up int'a fuss."

Really, despite the fact that he kept trying to push that she was somehow attracted to him, she didn't see him as a fighter so much as a prankster. But first impressions could always be wrong.

"D'y'need some help? I could get y'somethin' for that bruise."

He grimaced. "Yeah? Could've fooled myself. I got in three fights, and the fussy lassie who gave me this thing had four legs and said neigh." Shrinking back inside the blankets, he grumbled quietly, "I wasn't actually fighting with the horse, though. I was fighting with the creep who owned the horse."

He'd already been stopped by nearly half a dozen people trying to help him tonight, despite his best efforts to go unnoticed, so he'd given up trying to avoid it and decided to just appreciate it when it happened. He sighed.

"What've you got?"

Pitch is kind of a dick okay

I AM SORRY THIS SUCKS I AM TIRED AND I NEED SLEEP BUT I SHOULD TAG THIS

/SMOOCH

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