Room 323 [Saturday, Afternoon]

[comeoutwrong]

Effy, being the discerning sort, had avoided getting caught up in the freak storm of mis-communication yesterday. She didn't talk enough to bother leaving people hundreds of messages, and that had really worked in her favour. The message she'd been left yesterday got to stay on her voicemail. It amused her.

True to this trait, she was busy texting back and forth with Panda this afternoon, trying to solve her friend's relationship issues. Effy found it particularly ironic that Pandora chose her of all people for all these questions. Like she had a brilliant track record with this shit.

Lounging sideways on her bed with her head dangling half off the edge as she look particularly comfortable, but left her with the option to glance out her open door and keep an eye on whatever the fuck her cross-hallway neighbor was doing wandering to apparently just stare into the hallway periodically.

Maybe she'd go ask later. When she could be bothered.

[[Door and post open, I completely failed at playing with phones yesterday, so I LINKDROP TODAY, DAMN IT.]]

Comments

[give-areason.livejournal.com]

While Rosalind was aware of the person Alex was--with--she had never bothered, or truly, seen the need to go out of her way to track her down.

Yesterday's message however...

"Effy, right?" Rosalind leaned in the doorway, head-to-toe immaculately dressed in her usual suit and looking mildly bemused.

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

Peter himself was lounging on his bed with a textbook on theoretical physics.

You know, light reading.

"Who are you texting, any way?" he asked.