School Grounds, Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Thursday Afternoon
fighty [iced]
Okay, so having awesome ice powers (whose status as "awesome" fluctuated with Bobby's moods, but details) and being reasonably athletic meant that Bobby was, naturally, pretty in to winter sports. Sure, he still couldn't skate all that well when forced to use proper skates, but the aforementioned awesome ice powers meant that didn't actually prevent him from playing hockey or participating in other skating-related sports.

But hockey wasn't what he was here for today. No, a portion of the lawn had been transformed into a sheet of ice with blue and red circles on either end, and Bobby was sitting- rather uncomfortably- on a large circular piece of granite with a handle sticking out of it, as he read over the sheaf of papers in his hand.

"I don't get it," he admitted, finally, making a face at the curling rules.

[ooc: for the wife! or... anyone who feels like calling, i suppose.]

on the phone
Hey, you've reached Bobby Drake! Only not really 'cause I can't come to the phone right now. Sorry about that. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. Unless your name is Scott Summers, in which case I won't call back just 'cause I know it'll annoy you. Kidding! Kidding! Scotty, I'll totally call back. Really.

Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Friday Evening
aw shucks
So, yeah. The wedding was totally a Thing That Was Happening.

Formal invitations had, of course, gone out in a handwavey fashion letting people know that June 29th was a date they should make note of. Bobby privately thought it was kind of silly when they could have just texted or called or emailed everyone, but actual printed and mailed invitations made Sookie happy, so who was he to say no to that?

Now it was just a matter of waiting for RSVPs. And maybe calling a few specific people to make sure they'd actually gotten their invitations because as much as he'd never admit it out loud, Bobby was feeling neurotic as hell about this whole wedding deal. He really didn't want to screw this up.

[ooc: open to calls, texts, emails, and of course the fiancee. if you think you got a wedding invitation, you did.]

Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Sunday All Day
So as it turns out, Fandom wasn't the only place where people had disappeared. Over in Westchester, only occassional glimpses of one very dishelved and grumpy looking Robert Drake had been managed over the past two weeks.

Apparently, one of the drawbacks of living in a mansion, or at least this mansion, was that several other people lived there too. Several other people who either couldn't afford to have someone do their taxes, had never done taxes due to living in underground sewer systems most of their lives, or were just too damn lazy to hire someone else to do them.

So over the course of the past few months, they'd all come to Bobby with stacks of paper and pleading looks in their eyes. And like the helpful guy he was, he'd said yes, leading to his current predicament.

He hadn't slept in what he was certain were days, because every time he closed his eyes they were still there. Numbers. Everywhere. He ran a hand through his already-dishelved hair as he tried in vain to figure out if there was some way to write off a trip to outer space as a business expense.

[ooc: open for the fiancee, or anyone who'd like to call/text/email or whatevs.]

Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, Sunday Evening
So... moving day. Sort of. Bobby hadn't actually finished packing up his stuff in Fandom yet, since he still had, like, people to say goodbye to and all that, but Sookie's stuff was all ready to go, and moving in together meant he totally had a legitimate reason to claim one of the bigger rooms in the mansion (not that any of them were small, but. You know).

So today had been spent portaling over Sookie's stuff and then hauling Bobby's up a flight of stairs.

"Ugh," he declared, flopping dramatically on the bed. "I am done."

Bobby. Most of the room was still in boxes.

[ooc: for that girl and nfb for distance!]

A Clearing in... the Savage Land? Thursday Morning, Fandom-Time
True to Bobby's prediction, they had indeed not ended up back in Fandom after last night's escapades. Rather, there had been a safari adventure that had escalated rather quickly and... Bobby really only had the vaguest recollection of why he'd fallen asleep outside, clinging to his best friend.

... Well, okay, he knew the answer to the second part and that was that Warren's wings were all fluffy and kind of comfortable.

"Nrrrph." On some planet that may have been something resembling a 'good morning' greeting. Maybe.

[ooc: for the safari-goers!]

The Drunken Unicorn, Wednesday Evening
chilling (not literally)
So summer was just about drawing to a close, and that meant that soon even those recent graduates who'd stayed behind on the island for the summer would be headed off. Naturally, this meant one last sort of hurrah needed to be had: in the form of getting really, incredibly drunk, of course.

And while, yes, there was totally a bar on-island they could do that at, there was also one off island, and it had become a weird sort of tradition now, anyway.

[ooc: NFB since mainland and for Those Guys and some SP.]

Room 324 [Saturday Morning]
Like many other people in Fandom today, Bobby woke up with fewer hands and more hooves than was normal for him.

"Gah!" was all he intelligently had to say as his attempt to get out of bed was only somewhat successful, as he was wrapped in a goddamn blanket.

"Arrrgh!" came the muffled cry of frustration from beneath the vaguely blanket- shaped lump. No matter how he flailed his hooves (hooves!), he couldn't find the edge of the blanket, and he couldn't see because the blanket was over his head.

Really not the best start to the day.

Room 324 [Thursday Afternoon]
uh oh
Some people, after years of sharing close quarters with a roommate, might be glad to finally get the room to themselves.

Bobby... was kinda finding it a bit too lonely for his liking.

At least he still had Thor?

He had the rabbit on his lap and was kind of idly giving him ear-skritches as he sat at his desk and worked on some budget allocation stuff for Kennedy. No, not for her workshop, for that other job of hers- which meant figuring out how to adjust for rates of inflation between 2003 and 2012.

He'd told Angelica his door was open anytime she wanted to talk about whatever had gone on back home, so he made a point of making sure his door was literally open while he worked.

[ooc: expecting one Amazing Friend (that she visited is okay for radio, conversation NFB), but also open!]

Emma's Dorm Room, ESU, Saturday Morning
After too many rounds of poker to count, a good portion of the Space Battles marathon, and way too much junk food than was healthy for your average teenage male, Bobby had finally made his way back to his own room and flopped out on the bed, sleeping the sleep of the thoroughly partied out.

So when he woke up Saturday morning to what seemed like an insistent, low-level buzzing, he just assumed Warren was watching TV on his laptop or something.

"C'n you turn it down, buddy?" he muttered, rolling over and pulling a pillow over his head.

And then sitting up with a start, because something here was not right. Scrambling out of bed, he immediately noticed two things: one, he once again had the whole girl-body thing going on. Two, he was not in his room. A quick survey of the room located a hand mirror, and he held it up to his face with trepidation. When he saw the face looking back at him, he shrieked and flung the mirror across the room.

"Okay," Bobby said to himself. "Okay. Breathe. Phone, phone, she's gotta have a phone around here somewhere..." Finding said phone, he dialed, well- himself. What the hell had she done to him?

[ooc: for the one whose body he's inhabiting!]


Log in

No account? Create an account