ArchivedLogs:Sleeptime

Sleeptime
Dramatis Personae Anole, Jack	2015-02-09 '
Location <XS> Anole and Jack's Dorm - FL2
A standard, if comfortable, dorm room. Two beds, two closets, two desks. Anole's side of the room is as sparse as it ever has been. Impeccably neatly kept desk with only his (carefully organized) textbooks and a small cup of pens and pencils to even show anyone is using it. Bed carefully made. With the closet door closed, there aren't any other personal belongings in sight. At least not until Anole makes his way back into the room, barefoot and still kind of damp, a towel wrapped around his waist and a bundle of discarded clothes from the day tucked beneath one arm. Jack's side of the room is neat and spartan as well. His desk is a little messier and a small selection of face paints can be seen but Jack's been trying to keep things clean. He's just wearing a pair of pajama pants right now, in the middle of getting dressed for bed when Anole enters. He glances up and starts to lift a hand to wave but stops when he remebers he doesn't even have sleeves on to indicate where his arms are. His eyes linger on his roommate for a few moments before Jack pulls on the t-shirt he usually wears to bed. Once dressed, the otherwise invisible mutant moves to start cleaning up his desk. Anole nudges the door back closed behind himself with a foot, hesitating a moment by the doorway but then tipping his chin upward in greeting to Jack. He slips over to his closet, tucking his dirty clothes into a hamper inside but draping his jeans over its edge for later wear. After this, the dresser, tugging out clean boxers and pulling them on underneath the towel before shedding it to hang on the inside of the closet door. He closes the closet again, climbing over onto his bed and reaching out to dig his tablet out from a desk-drawer. Jack straightens up some papers while Anole's tossing things into the hamper. He smiles as he scoops up a paper crane he folded earlier and sets it aside on top of the origami book he borrowed from the library. Just something he's been playing around with. He glances over at the sound of the dresser opening and blushes when he sees his roommate taking boxers out. Looking quickly back at his desk, he clears his throat and gets back to his task. When he starts putting the face paints into his desk drawer, Jack drops a couple of them and curses under his breath. The plastic jars roll under his desk and he gets down on the floor to pick them up. Anole is just settling into bed -- tablet in hand, switching on an /electric/ blanket tucked under his regular comforter -- when the jars fall. His head turns at the sound of the clunk-roll, brows pulling in together as he leans down out of bed, head dropping near the floor to squint towards the source of the noise. There's a /thwp/, a loooooong stretch of pale pink zipping outward across the room. A pair of small plastic paint jars yanked back in on the end of his sticky tongue. He drops the jars -- slightly more damp than before! -- into his huge-clawed hand, blushing a deeper shade of green and lifting his other hand to rub a fist against his heart. Sheepishly, he wipes the jars more-or-less dry against his blanket, sliding out of bed to set them down on the edge of Jack's desk with an apologetic dip of head. Jack is startled by the sudden /thwp/ and the togue zipping past him. He jerks slightly upwards, thankfully not under his desk yet or he'd have smacked his head into it. He gives the desk a silent little look before turning around to face his roommate. He stands up and straightens out his clothes, giving an unseen nod of thanks. He takes a moment to notice that the green paint is a similar shade to his roommate and he gives it a thoughtful look before setting it in the drawer with the others, unbothered by the dampness. He's going to try that color out tomorrow. Picking up the book he's been reading through, Jack moves to get into his bed. Anole's blush doesn't really subside, his fist circling in a repeated apology before he creeps back into bed. He sets his tablet on his nightstand, plugging it in so that it can charge. His hand lifts in a silent wave to Jack before he shuts off the lamp on his nightstand, tucking himself down under his nest of heated-blanket and pulling the comforter up over his head. The repeated apologies get Jack lifting a hand to silently say its okay but it just ends up looking like one of his sleeves lifts. He watches his roommate duck under the covers with a little amusement and then climbs into bed as well. He gets comfortable and settles in to read a little for the night before getting to sleep as well.