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discedo_logs2009-04-29 11:32 pm
whatthefactor.livejournal.com) wrote in discedo_logs2009-04-29 11:32 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Sho Minamimoto (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
whatthefactor), Eruka Frog (amphibiopathic)
Where: Latimir Apartments 415
When: April 29, Mid-morning?
Rating: PG-13 for potential cursing that isn't censored by mathematical terminology.
Summary: Sho returns with stories of adventure and stomping in ReDead heads. ... oh, and some sekrit notes.
the log:
Minamimoto quickly made his way up the stairs and down the hallway. Although he hadn't slept in several days, he was quite awake, running on adrenaline and the usual crazy. Admittedly, he was quite proud of his handiwork done over the past couple days. Managed to avoid having one of the stupid 000s in his set get subtracted--his reasons for actually bothering to do so of course stemmed from self-interest--for the entire function, got rid of the source of an ever greater headache, and most importantly, got to kick some almost-zombie ass.
He stopped in front of the door of his apartment, turned the knob, and entered without saying a word. He immediately walked to the kitchen table, pulling all sorts of notes out from nearly all of his pockets (he managed to fit an entire manilla folder's worth of notes into said pockets) and spreading them on the table. He turns the chair around and sits on it backwards and begins unfolded them in a fury. He'd definitely found something good.
whatthefactor), Eruka Frog (amphibiopathic)Where: Latimir Apartments 415
When: April 29, Mid-morning?
Rating: PG-13 for potential cursing that isn't censored by mathematical terminology.
Summary: Sho returns with stories of adventure and stomping in ReDead heads. ... oh, and some sekrit notes.
the log:
Minamimoto quickly made his way up the stairs and down the hallway. Although he hadn't slept in several days, he was quite awake, running on adrenaline and the usual crazy. Admittedly, he was quite proud of his handiwork done over the past couple days. Managed to avoid having one of the stupid 000s in his set get subtracted--his reasons for actually bothering to do so of course stemmed from self-interest--for the entire function, got rid of the source of an ever greater headache, and most importantly, got to kick some almost-zombie ass.
He stopped in front of the door of his apartment, turned the knob, and entered without saying a word. He immediately walked to the kitchen table, pulling all sorts of notes out from nearly all of his pockets (he managed to fit an entire manilla folder's worth of notes into said pockets) and spreading them on the table. He turns the chair around and sits on it backwards and begins unfolded them in a fury. He'd definitely found something good.