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San Francisco International Airport, Tuesday Night
Tim was bleary from jet lag after his flight from New Orleans, but two things kept him from giving in to it. One, he knew that this was nothing compared to how he was going to feel after the flight to Hong Kong. And two, the sight of T'ing waiting for him at the gate ( Read more... ) -
Office Hours: Tim Desmond, 1-3pm
Tim was using this opportunity to meditate, on what might be happening with Phoebe. He had a list of possible culprits:
Evil Twin, Possesed by Evil Fairy, Possesed by demon, Changling, Mind Controled by Baba Yaga, Replaced by Alien, Controled by Alien, and just plain crazy.
The office door was open.
[post is open, especially for a certain ( Read more... ) -
OOC: Being both an apology and a request
First: Sorry for my sudden disappearance. I know you were all shattered. My laptop is undergoing surgery and I was out of internet access for a few days. This is why Connor missed his not-date with Meg, and Tim didn't get his class taught. An IC reason will be going up tonight as well ( Read more... ) -
Another Info Post for the New Folks
First, this is the same Timothy Desmond that was in Fandom High, if that means anything to you ( Read more... ) -
Saranac Lake, Upstate New York, Sunday
There had been snow. Rather a lot of it. Normally this would make the roads nearly impassable for a station wagon. The roads he had to travel on anyway. The plows hadn't gotten to them yet ( Read more... ) -
Holiday/Housewarming Party, Storefront Apartments Apartment Handwave
There's a Holiday party at the home of, Tim Desmond. If people show it's sure to be a, grande evente attempts to make it rhyme, fail. We'll be singing the songs we love to sing without a single stop. By the non-existent fireplace while we watch the chestnuts pop!
Penguins: Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
[ooc: open to all, Bit of OCD ( Read more... ) -
Flyers around town:
HOLIDAY PARTY AT STOREFRONT APARTMENT #HANDWAVE.
FOOD, DRINKS, BYOB.
LEAVE YOUR EMO AT THE DOOR.
THIS SATURDAY EVENING. -
Bates Motel, Room Handwave, Monday Evening
I'm not entirely sure how I got back to the motel. But Hobson had what he called a restorative, which seemed to be some manner of tea, and a hot bath ready. I'd long since stopped asking how he knew I'd need something. It was a butler thing ( Read more... ) -
Bates Motel, Room Handwave, Thursday Morning
"Blue Canary to Birdhouse, come in Birdhouse."
That was the voice that greeted me when I called home. It was how I knew it was Greta not Alina that had answered the phone.
"This is Birdhouse, come in Blue Canary."
"You're not here yet. Does that mean you're not coming?" I could tell she was disappointed ( Read more... )