Eric R. Bittle (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
omgnochecksyet) wrote2015-06-06 08:37 am
omgnochecksyet) wrote2015-06-06 08:37 am
Room 216, Saturday Morning
Uuugh, morning. Years of training meant Eric was capable of waking up at the buttcrack of dawn, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He certainly wasn't one to wake up early on purpose if he didn't have to, especially on a Saturday. So he was doing his best to fight off that whole return-to-consciousness thing and drift back off to sleep, except it was really hard to get comfortable. And also something kept tugging on his hair?
"Waddles, stoppit," he mumbled, waving one hand to shoo away what he figured was the most likely culprit. Except that just made the tugging worse. "Ow!"
Wait. Eric was well aware that he could make his voice go pretty high when circumstances called for it, but this was... this didn't seem right. Nor did a number of other things. He stumbled out of bed and headed for the nearest reflective surface.
"What in the ever-lovin' hell?"
[ooc: for the roomie, or anyone inclined to knock! may be some sp later as i'm off to pride.]
"Waddles, stoppit," he mumbled, waving one hand to shoo away what he figured was the most likely culprit. Except that just made the tugging worse. "Ow!"
Wait. Eric was well aware that he could make his voice go pretty high when circumstances called for it, but this was... this didn't seem right. Nor did a number of other things. He stumbled out of bed and headed for the nearest reflective surface.
"What in the ever-lovin' hell?"
[ooc: for the roomie, or anyone inclined to knock! may be some sp later as i'm off to pride.]
no subject
A beat.
"But it's something that happens often enough that people were warning us about it on our first day, too. So it might be worth the money orrrr I could probably knit you one!"
It would be a sports bra, for the record, because Mabel wasn't going to measure your cup size, Eric.