#adrpstarter

[padfoot-the-star]

Really?

Apparently we can't use St Patrick's Day as an excuse to get drunk.

[ohitsjustmary]

Hogsmeade

Does anyone know when the next Hogsmeade trip is?

I'm running low on my supply of Chocolate Frogs.

[ohitsjustmary]

Study

Anyone need a study buddy?

[ohitsjustmary]

.....Hi.

[j0llyrogered]

"Another week gone by. It's been rather peaceful as of late."

"I rather like that, heh."

[j0llyrogered]

Morning Jog || Open

If there was something nice about living in a college town, it was that the streets were not over-crowded in the mornings (whether it was because the teens were out partying the night before and were sleeping to recover or if they were just lazy, he didn’t care), which meant that it was the perfect time to go running.

So dressed in a simple tee shirt and shorts, along with his running shoes and trusty mp3 player, James Wells set off for a morning jog. He used this time to clear his thoughts and just focus on the world before him rather than around him. He would forget about his silly problems and imagine a relaxing scene with him sitting near the lake with some sort of alcoholic beverage in his hand and he was content.

A soft sigh escaped him as he ran, switching back and forth from his imagination to reality, lingering a moment longer in his mind each time he went back. He should have known better because every time he lost himself to his thoughts, things would happen to James.

Of course that thing happened to be a person and the fisherman ran straight into them. The collision quickly brought him back to the present and James flushed in embarrassment, “My apologies," he quickly spoke, trying to help the person, “I wasn’t paying attention," he mumbled more to himself than to the person.

[leanmeandeanmachine]

Waiting for Me? || Open

It was a beeaaauutiful day, yes indeed. Then again, every day was beautiful when you were as fabulous as Mike Wizowski thought he was. He gave himself a great big wink in the rearview mirror of his Bugatti as he pulled into his special parking space. Yes, you knew things were going well for you when you had your own personally marked parking space. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, pretending to slick back his unslickable Jew fro, and headed into the office. “Hey Betty, how’s it hanging?” “Harry! Do something with your hair?” “Marge, baby! You look great today.” Yeah, things were great when you were the Dean. It made you important, and Mike liked it. 

“Roz my tender blossom, you’re looking fabulous today,” Mike said, oozing as much charm out as he possible could to his aging secretary. “Is that a new haircut? It’s got to be a new haircut. New makeup? You had a lift, a tuck.. you had something that-“

“Can it Wizowski,” Roz glared at him. Perhaps she was the only person at Argo that could talk down to Mike, and it didn’t help that he was too afraid of her to fire her. His eyes glazed over as she, once again, scolded him for not filling out all his paperwork yesterday, (he’d get it done today, he promised!) but then he was brought back to earth when she mentioned that someone was waiting in his office for him. 

Thankful for the excuse, Mike practically bounced down the hall and into his office. “So sorry to keep you waiting,” he declared upon entering his office, “but you know what they say: patience is a virtue or something like that. Now,” he turned to face his visitor, “who are you and what do you want? As the Dean of this fine institution, I’m a very busy man.”

[leanmeandeanmachine]

Waiting for me? || Open

It was a beeaaauutiful day, yes indeed. Then again, every day was beautiful when you were as fabulous as Mike Wizowski thought he was. He gave himself a great big wink in the rearview mirror of his Bugatti as he pulled into his special parking space. Yes, you knew things were going well for you when you had your own personally marked parking space. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, pretending to slick back his unslickable Jew fro, and headed into the office. "Hey Betty, how's it hanging?" "Harry! Do something with your hair?" "Marge, baby! You look great today." Yeah, things were great when you were the Dean. It made you important, and Mike liked it. 

"Roz my tender blossom, you're looking fabulous today," Mike said, oozing as much charm out as he possible could to his aging secretary. "Is that a new haircut? It's got to be a new haircut. New makeup? You had a lift, a tuck.. you had something that-"

"Can it Wizowski," Roz glared at him. Perhaps she was the only person at Argo that could talk down to Mike, and it didn't help that he was too afraid of her to fire her. His eyes glazed over as she, once again, scolded him for not filling out all his paperwork yesterday, (he'd get it done today, he promised!) but then he was brought back to earth when she mentioned that someone was waiting in his office for him. 

Thankful for the excuse, Mike practically bounced down the hall and into his office. "So sorry to keep you waiting," he declared upon entering his office, "but you know what they say: patience is a virtue or something like that. Now," he turned to face his visitor, "who are you and what do you want? As the Dean of this fine institution, I'm a very busy man."