clay_satyr

((Tag to Clay's room-mate, jamesrayner, but anyone else can pop in too.))

Clay finished reading last year's biology notes that corresponded to chapter three (still posted on-line, thankfully), and was about to move to the chemistry notes, when something caught his eye: the clock. Break time he thought.

Clay popped open his computer's CD drive, and popped in a mixed CD some friends gave him. The first song from Pippin started playing through the speakers. Clay grinned. If there was a more appropriate song to start off a term full of Changelings, he hadn't found it. He also couldn't help but sing along.

( Lyrics: Magic to Do )

Clay's voice is beautiful, and can be just heard outside of his door, but (hopefully) not loud enough to cause complaints. His dancing, however, was more appropriate for a club than for a stage production. He's also wearing (expensive) jeans but no shirt or shoes, so his wings (or tattoos of wings) are visible as are his hooves.

((OOC: This post is not cannon. It is what would have/could have happened if Clay had said his mental comments out loud. It is an alternative to this post. Anyone is welcome to join, but remember, it didn't really happen. :) ))

Clay heard most of the official rules when he was in first year, as well as figured out how to bend or break them. [Not that he did either often...] So, while other people were paying semi-close attention, Clay was very quietly making a running list of exceptions and add ons to the list. Some of his thoughts are in jest, but others are serious. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quiet enough...

"Quiet hours... That's what head phones are for. Got to talk Collin and Kellin into letting us have a Power Hour before then. It'll let everyone let off some steam, at the very least."

"Visitors and sleep overs... that's what windows are for... if, unlike me, you're on the first floor. Not to mention the condoms that are in every frosh-kit in North America."

Clay snickers a bit at Collin's homosexuality comment.

"Guidelines and announcements: like the red lights in Italy - just a suggestion."

"Acting like adults... fine most of the time. But sometimes you have to play harder than you work... and safer than you work."

"Ism-harassment... welcome out of the dark ages people."

"The fearful GPA - nothing to worry about if you read and study."

"Drugs and alcohol - can be gotten at court easilly enough if I really need something. Of course, that guest speaker's jarred organs of addicts is enough to keep anyone from touching ANYTHING ever again... who knew a brain could get that many holes in it!"

"The Responsibility Clause - So don't be stupid."

"Not being allowed to affix things or throw things - so duct taping your fellow residents to the wall, even if you have their permission, is not allowed. Even though it was REALLY funny when we did it last year... Still think it should have won when we sent it to AFV. And I'm sure jumping off the building doesn't count if you don't fall down."

No pets of any kind are permitted in residence.
Clay notices another goat in the crowd, and gives a half grin. At least he didn't say "no animals", or we'd be in trouble.

"Fire safety - so I have to work on my magic then, so as to not start or be able to stop fires."

"Weapons - good thing my hands aren't registared yet."

"Smoking I can understand, but incense? Whatever. Got to learn that water magic."

"Of course, it's gonna be tough getting people from Rowan to not play music. It's Rowan, for Pete's sake! That's the whole reason why I'm here rather than in one of the other halls!"

"Any questions?"

Clayton didn't have any questions, but he wasn't very hungry, and he noticed that most of the other people who are staying around are fae. Might be a good idea to get to know them from the start. Especially that other satyr. So, Clay stayed around, with his wings to the wall and his arms folded, and an easy grin on his face.

"That's a wrap folks," the photographer said at the end of the day. Clayton couldn't have wished for anything more at that moment. Twelve hours of shooting stinks, even if it was in New Mexico.

Still shirtless from the last shoot (designer blue jeans), Clayton walked to the wash station, where his stuff was. He'd be leaving on a plane in a few short hours to go back to school, and he wanted everything to be together so he could grab his bags and get going.

"Let's see," Clay said as he opened one of the letters he had been neglecting. It was a list of courses that he had been accepted into. Nothing new there. Clay had chosen all of them a few months ago:

Introduction to Literature,
Biology 201
Chemistry 201
Computer Science 101
Social Work 101
Writing components I

Under that letter was a second stating that his dorm change had been approved, and he would be welcome to move into Rowan House a few days before classes began (but no word on a room mate yet). Clay grinned as he remembered his RA's face when he asked to move to Rowan. It's not the dorm most pre-med students would choose to live in, but Clay figured he'd be seeped in banality with some of his courses, and hanging around artists and musicians would help keep him in a steady flow of glamour... of course, so would hanging out with his biology teacher, Professor Nickleback.

The good professor had a way of teaching that inspired rather than dragged down. He also hinted that Clay might be able to help with some of his cancer research this term.

There were also a few fan letters that Clay would read and answer on the plane. "Speaking of which..." Clay mumbled. He glanced at his watch. Theoretically, there was plenty of time until his flight... which meant he would have to get moving if he wanted to shower and shave before the trip.

No one heard the click of his hoves as he walked towards the shower, or saw the light reflecting off of his red and green glass-like wings.