A Little Fall Of Rain Ian wasn't really the sleep outside sort. But that scent sent even them out. Though they had secured their equipment as much as possible, and they kept going back in as often as they could hand it, shirt over their face like a mask. To keep mold off the equipment and make sure no one has stolen anything. Sleep was mostly sitting up against a the wall of the school, as near to the door as they could manage, knees up and head on knees. Just a little Ian huddle with body language that screams "Keep Away". Often there will be a blanket involved awkwardly because huddling in a blanket is fine but sleeping means blankets sometimes slip. Not that there are a ton of people here likely to want to "tuck in" a near stranger...
Gift in... TIME?!
Finally able to go back in should have been enough to make Ian thrilled. But as soon as Ian woke up, hair slightly longer with some red in the tips, the programmer hardly seemed to notice. They moved swiftly, rushing past people and back to their room. They scrambled around quickly looking for an intact notebook and a pen. Thy found a sharpie first instead. There was almost a second of hesitation then the need to get this down beat out all other considerations.
Ian began on the blackboard first, but it soon expanded to the section of wall on either side. Then the desk they used as a bed was shoved aside as that whole wall became writing space. Soon the board and two walls were utterly. Covered. With. Code.
Ian moved like one obsessed scribbling it all down as fast as they could, frantic. Desperate. So fixated that they hadn't yet noticed the Dark Souls blanket. Nor that they had left the door open.
Ian Wright | OTA | CW: trauma, PTSD. Guilt
A Little Fall Of Rain
Ian wasn't really the sleep outside sort. But that scent sent even them out. Though they had secured their equipment as much as possible, and they kept going back in as often as they could hand it, shirt over their face like a mask. To keep mold off the equipment and make sure no one has stolen anything. Sleep was mostly sitting up against a the wall of the school, as near to the door as they could manage, knees up and head on knees. Just a little Ian huddle with body language that screams "Keep Away". Often there will be a blanket involved awkwardly because huddling in a blanket is fine but sleeping means blankets sometimes slip. Not that there are a ton of people here likely to want to "tuck in" a near stranger...
Gift in... TIME?!
Finally able to go back in should have been enough to make Ian thrilled. But as soon as Ian woke up, hair slightly longer with some red in the tips, the programmer hardly seemed to notice. They moved swiftly, rushing past people and back to their room. They scrambled around quickly looking for an intact notebook and a pen. Thy found a sharpie first instead. There was almost a second of hesitation then the need to get this down beat out all other considerations.
Ian began on the blackboard first, but it soon expanded to the section of wall on either side. Then the desk they used as a bed was shoved aside as that whole wall became writing space. Soon the board and two walls were utterly. Covered. With. Code.
Ian moved like one obsessed scribbling it all down as fast as they could, frantic. Desperate. So fixated that they hadn't yet noticed the Dark Souls blanket. Nor that they had left the door open.