RP Cluster 9: Tents 38-41

[ringoate-mybaby.livejournal.com]

((Open to Bart Allen, Oz, George St. Bartleigh, Doug Murphy, Rogue, Willow Rosenberg, Janet Fraiser, Zelgadiss Graywords))

All in all, Oz was taking the end of his bachelor-days rather well. He had just got back to Hogwarts after vanning around Scotland, and had been avoiding unpacking. And now he didn't even have to avoid it anymore. Nice.

Although he did not fight the crowd that was shooed into the tent village, he still got some bumps (especially around the knees). He glanced at his token but rather than heading straight to his tent, Oz decided to take the scenic route. He noticed along the way that there were enough hot tubs to provide hundreds of hours of uncomfortable silence after an accidental groping and a tunnel of love that looked like a monstrous caterpillar. Together they were probably wasting enough water to... eh, Oz wasn't feeling like a metaphor. It was just wasting a lot of water.

Oz made his way to Cluster Nine, which contained tents 38, 39, 40, and 41. It was located at the corner of the tennis court, and just close enough to the Beet Farm for things to probably be uncomfortable.

38 was Oz's tent number. He glanced inside it and looked out, blinking. He then looked back inside, and then looked out again. "Huh."

He'd be checking that one out for a while.

Comments

[sponge-girl-x.livejournal.com]

Rogue poked around the kitchen, which the house elves had thoughtfully stocked with assorted food products. "Yeah, it's weird for me too. Most experience I ever had with magic before this was this kid, called himself 'Magician'--didn't have real magic, just crazy mutant powers. And he was sort of a tool."

[recentlygay.livejournal.com]

"Mine was all candles and incantations." Willow replied, coming to look through the food as well. "What sort of food do you like, anyway? I'm not the most amazing cook, but I can handle most things."

[sponge-girl-x.livejournal.com]

"Sounds... kinda boring, actually," she said. "No offense. I dunno--burgers, pizza, chicken--not fried, though, can't stand fried chicken." She grinned. "Southern girl who hates fried chicken, there's a thought for you."

[recentlygay.livejournal.com]

"None taken." Willow smiled brightly at Rogue. "It's something I'm used to." As for the food.... "I think I can manage chicken. If there is chicken. Is there chicken?"

[sponge-girl-x.livejournal.com]

She rummaged around in the cold-storage area of the tent (it didn't have electricity so it couldn't be an actual refrigerator, but damned if she knew what the magical equivalent was called) and found some. "We do have chicken. What about you?"