Room 418, Monday Evening

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara no longer had a roommate. While she didn't object to sharing a living space, she was hardly going to deny that there was a certain pleasure in having your own rooms. Not least because some things were simply easier when there was a level of privacy she hadn't enjoyed since she'd last lived in a Mord'Sith temple. Such as taking proper care of her leathers.

Looking up from cleaning her boots, she wondered briefly why she hadn't noticed just how blank and featureless the material they made the walls out of was before this, especially in the harsh, steady glow of the lights they used here.

She pushed the thought deep down, since it hardly mattered, before getting up and going over to open the door. Not much, just enough that any ambient noise could filter through. She didn't trust any place that was too quiet.

[Cracked door, open post.]

Comments

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"I've tried to hone them over the years," Bruce said.

[wrongkindofsith]

"In between your golf games?" Cara asked, much too sweetly.

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Yes. And if you ever tried playing it, you'd probably be hooked," Bruce opined.

[wrongkindofsith]

"Only if you're allowed to hit something other than the ball." And by something, she meant other players.

[headed home, back in a few]

[willbethenight.livejournal.com]

"Well, you probably could do that, but you'd never be allowed back on the course," Bruce said. "And you might get arrested."

[OOC: And I need sleep! Night!]

[wrongkindofsith]

"That would be awkward," Cara admitted. Though at least there'd be less chance of a lynch mob than the last time she'd gotten arrested.

[Night!]