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[paradoxlol]

I can't be the only person here with a wardrobe full of dry-clean only clothing. Considering the laundry room isn't exactly equipped to take care of it, what methods have the rest of you been using?

[Private to Mindy]
We're overdue for a meeting. Level 6 common room, after dinner. NOT OPTIONAL.

[Filtered to Hayley & Capa]
I want you to tell me everything you remember about port. [He figures he doesn't need to specify which port.] In person, preferably.

[Filtered to Miss Parker, added later]
You're on inventory, right?

And congratulations, on graduating. I know it's belated.

[OOC: Like so many, Arthur's going to pretend the flood never happened. That's right, he's not even going to give a cursory "WELL THAT SUCKED." The only indication that he's pissy is the fact that, well, EVERYTHING'S TEXT BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU JERKS. Also, his hideous solicitation post is now retroactively encrypted-- well, Arthur-encrypted. He's probably decent, but not better than any of the tech types here.

ALSO. He's hanging out in the laundry room right now, sitting on a machine that he accidentally overloaded with all of his bedding because it's unclean. Fun Fact: Arthur doesn't actually do his own laundry back home. SO HE IS IGNORANT and has been barely scraping by on the Barge. SO IF YOU WANT TO HANG OUT WITH HIM, SPAM AWAY.

And sorry for the crap post. I have awful writer's block today.]

Comments

[Pseudo-Spam] They are just that fantastic, office jobs.

[some-go-mad.livejournal.com]

[And the Master gets distracted by, let's say, the Seventh Doctor appearing at the end of the hall he's texting from, and takes evasive action. By the time he's finished running scared gracefully retreating, his attention span has wandered. Thread-dropping. The least of his evils.]

[He'll remember you seem like you have potential, though, Arthur. For a warden.]