Room 206, Tuesday Morning

[dark_slippy_thing]

The handle to Valentine's closet door wiggled, then turned, and then the door swung open and out tumbled Valentine who, now brilliantly entirely clean of all traces of facepie, was searching for his clothes.
Which, by all rights, should have been on the floor in a heap, where they had been left.
In their stead, however, was clothespie. Bumbleberry, pumpkin, and coconut cream, mostly.
Trying not to wake the roomie or the serial pie-cleaner, he tiptoed across the room to gawk at the fantastic heap of no-longer-wearable clothing.
The only clothing to his name, actually.
Flailing his arms about like a flaily thing, he wondered to himself how the student body would react to a masked guy in a bedsheet toga.

[OOC: If anyone has ever had the burning desire to see Valentine flailing and naked, I suppose this is your chance.]

Comments

[defiantlyyours.livejournal.com]

6 was sleeping until the absolute last possible moment. Then he popped open his eyes. "WHAT IN THE BLAZES?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

At his roomie's rather disgruntled exclamation, Valentine made something of a scrabble for a pie-splattered bedsheet.
"MY CLOTHES ARE PIE!"
Brilliant retort.