"...What is this thing, Boo? What are you squeaking at me for? You know that your giant miniature space hamster technology is too great for feeble human minds to understand! BUT I SHALL STRIVE TO GET IT, BOO! FOR YOU AND FOR JUSTICE! RAAAAURR--"

*CLICK*

~~~

"[ In creating this journal, the author has assumed the identity of a fictional person for use in the role-playing game fandomhigh, for the sole purpose of entertainment, without intending to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud either the person who created the fictional person, or any reader of this content. The author does not purport to be the creator of the fictional person, or to be affiliated with the creator, or with any person or entity with an interest in the fictional person. The author does not claim to be the person who is being used as the graphical representation of that fictional person, nor intend to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud that person by use of their image ]]"

Minsc still did not have a syllabus for his class.

In general, he was okay with that. He felt they were silly, anyway, but he felt that way about most written things. Besides, the class was going along well without one; he felt it was very informative, as well as interactive, and he had a general plan in his head anyway, so what did it matter?

However, he wasn't sure if not having a syllabus was something he could get away with, so he was in his office making another attempt, which got as far as the title and the classes they've gone through so far, and then nothing. He still felt strongly that you couldn't syllabi for a faery class; it was against its nature, after all, and frowned at the paper.

Then he looked to his hamster.

"Boo! Give it a try. You are smarter than me, anyway."

He shoved the paper toward the rodent, who promptly curled up into a fluffy ball on top of it.

Well, there went that idea.

[[ door and post are open! I disappear for a large chunk of the day, unfortunately, but will be back in the evening ]]

Minsc & Boo were very frustrated.

Well, probably more the former than the latter; the latter seemed actually pretty darn content sitting in the waste-paper basket with all the failed crumpled up syllabuses (syllabi?) to make a nice, warm, comfortable, chewable bed. Minsc, on the other hand, the source of all those crumpled up wads of paper, was not having such a pleasant time.

"That is the problem," he announced to the world in a grumbling boom, "with a syllabus on faeries! They'll keep playing their little tricks so you can't ever write a good one!"

Sure, Minsc. Keep blaming it on the faeries.

[[ door and post are open for great SP goodness! ]]

As soon as Minsc learned about checking the local listings and seeing that there was, indeed, and episode of Blah Blah Blah Model Show on tonight, he whipped up a few handwavey posters, and then threw the ones that Boo hadn't chewed on or crumpled up to nest in around the town.

And then proceeded to get four kegs for tonight, a crap ton of chips, and other such things, because it was just as much about the booze and food as it was the bitchy models!

So then he just needed people.

It seems to be a trend, or something, lately.

It appears as though the world is just fated against me to have August be a low-Fandom month, as my power cord has died, leaving me without a reliable computer source until Friday. Which is suuuuuuper laaaaaaaaame.

I should be able to get things like classes and sign-ins taken care of without too much problem. Activity from me will be sparing, as I'll likely only be able to play from work, which is something I should not do and is very unpredictable, besides. However, I am an addict, and so if I post stuff (like work posts) or tag in, feel free to grudgingly bear my SP or just stab me in the metaphorical faces.

Until the new cord is in, we can just assume that my whole batch (Minsc, Turtle, Valentine, Daisy, and Rachel) are just hangin' out on the loooow side this week. Respective roommates, siblings, employers, coworkers, and across-the-hall neighbours for those who apply are free to mod little details about said quietness or whatever.

BIG SIGH. Sorry, guys. One of these days, maybe RL will stop being so mean to my gametime. In the meantime, at least I've got a prospective job interview, so wish me lucks.

*clingishness*

Also, this probably means no Anansi Boys spotlight tonight or Chad Show tomorrow. Boooo.

The number of kegs had increased yet again (despite participation numbers dwindling; that just meant more for Minsc!), and, not only that, but Minsc turned on the television set that evening and discovered that there would be an episode of the modeling show as expected and not something silly like penguins playing lacrosse.

Although he'd be happy to watch penguins playing lacrosse, too.

And there weren't any spoils of war littering the living room, either. Minsc had sequestered all the other heads and body parts and weapons and pretty things in his room for the time being. Handwavey posters had gone out declaring the kegger party still going for tonight, and then it was just a matter of people showing up to drink booze, eat pizza, and watch models. Minsc was very excited, and already trembling with anticipation to see who he would vote for to be sacrificed to the awesome goddess Tyra.


[[ OCD on the way, though might be sloooow as I am at work GO FORTH! ENJOY YOURSELF! ALL ARE WELCOME. ]]

BAM!

The door to office number four flew open, slamming against the wall as it swung creaking under the force of a mighty foot!

WHACK!

A chair, so haplessly and unexpectedly in the way, went flying out of the path and into the wall, bursting into large splinters.

THUD!

A big, heavy sack fell onto the top of the desk, the clanking of metal and a faint underpinning of something more organic and soft.

Minsc, covered with a great many new scars and bruises, his heavy, armoured form burdened with several spoils of his escapades back home, drew in a breath and looked at the heavy sack, his eyes a moment hard and dark as they scrutinized it. And then he tossed his head back and laughed heartily.

"Come, Boo!" he declared, his bark resonating in the small office as much as the previous onomatopoeia had. "The fine adventurers return from their victorious hunt and must now revel in their gifts of glory!" He reached for the bag and opened it, pulling out a surprisingly well preserved orc head, still in its battered helm with one of its horns broken off. Minsc, grinning, held it proudly in front of him.

"Still as ugly as the second I decapitated him!" Minsc announced proudly. "Tell me, Boo, where might we best hang this trophy of our awesomeness? You think right above my chair, so anyone who enters can see what happens to those who mess with Minsc? Or maybe above the bookshelf? Above the door so I can look the enemy in the face? Such a tough choice..."


[[ oh, Minsc, I missed you most of all. Door and post are so very open! ]]

Minsc didn't know that this week's episode of So You Want To Be The Nation's Next Top Model wasn't on tonight. He'd made the poster for his and Sir Deadpool's usual hosting night, with lots of glitter and handwavily put them all up and everything! And he's gotten three kegs this time! And a lot of pretzels!

He might almost be disappointed turning on the television and finding that it wasn't on if it weren't for the fact that there was still moose football and a lot of booze.

"By Tempus's mighty blade," he said, staring at the screen, "this...is even better!"

He was wishing they could play moose football every week!


[[ yes, there's still totally a party even if there's no episode. Because getting drunk watching moose football is still freakin' awesome. Slight OCD coming! ]]

Minsc's mood was a good one as he came into his office for the day, so he and Boo were going to spend the time playing some games, even if he did have a few ideas for a lesson plan going on in his head. He should know that if he had an idea, he should write it down now while it was still there, since it was very likely to disappear within a few hours if not catered to immediately, but, alas, there were crumpled balls of paper and a few daggers stabbed into the desk and leaning toward each other to make a little goal post, so that he and Boo could play some desktop football!

He was leading, about eight-to-two, but Minsc was feeling that this was simply because he was getting more into the game than Boo was. Boo kept getting distracted by eating the crumpled balls of paper.


[[ door and post are open! ]]

Not only had Minsc been greatly inspired by his helping in Sir Jim's class earlier (and, really, what was there to make a man feel romantic than something to recall up illicit affairs with mermaids?), but he had also taken things a next step further with a trip to the flower shop so that, in one hand, he held a bouquet of roses, and in the other he held a bunch of pebbles. The pebbles were currently being thrown at the balcony of MCA #7 to get the attention of the resident within.

And once her attention was caught and she came out to ask what the hell he was doing, he could launch into what he came here to do:

( SHOW ME AW-WO-WO-WO-ALL OF YOUR CHA-ARMS! )


[[ JFC, I love Styx. For the poor, poor recipient in the aforementioned apartment, although you're welcome to gawk, by all means. Up early for great SP justice! ]]

Really, Minsc was feeling loads better today than he had in his office hours earlier this week. Granted, all the stabbing of things and burning of books and belching during the day had been a great release, but it was probably the frat party get-together for that show with the sickly virgin sacrifices that really did the trick. That handwavey mysterious shut up chat with Sir Daisy helped a bit, too, although he only remembered some of it because he had been trying to take care of the remaining beer by just drinking all of it, and she had quite a bit, too, so some of it was kind of fuzzy. Either way, two days later, his mind was feeling so clear that he was actually working in his office.

Well. Working for Minsc. There was a pencil in his hand (held awkwardly, like one unaccustomed to such things) and a notebook in front of him and every fifteen minutes or so, he'd declare, "Ah-ha!" and scribble something down with great concentration, frown at it thoughtfully for a few minutes, then nod and go back to thinking. It would appear that a syllabus for the fall was forming, and, at this rate, it might even be finished before spring.


[[ *spams FL despite usual slow-pants* open door, open post! ]]

Minsc was also so busy being absolutely barbaric that he'd forgotten about all the glittery posters he and Sir Deadpool had oh so handwavily put up for the big bash tonight centered around that one modeling show. And beer. Mostly the beer. Although Minsc was very excited to see which one of the models was going to be sacrificed to the Goddess Tyra tonight! Oh, yes!

So he got ready to have people over to this barbaric ritual at the house. There was a ton of food in the form of pizza and chips and he'd gotten two kegs. That way, even if no one showed up, he and Sir Deadpool could each have one to themselves and it would be awesome. Enough that he almost hoped no one showed up just so that could happen.

But he liked people, barbaric as he was, so he hoped people might see the posters, come over, and have a good time.

[[ I am so not above promoting one character through my other characters. Please wait for some the OCD has such a fierce walk! ]]

Barbarism.

The word had been sticking to Minsc like a...well, like a barb since Saturday, and while he didn't let it show that it was bothering him (really, you could tell by all the humming), it was definitely getting the rub on him.

Barbarism. Of course it applied to him, he was a bloody barbarian! What could you expect? Him to take a great big stick and shove it up his bottom end so he can talk all hoity-toity and not kill people just because they were evil or not go rushing straight at really big things with your sword wielded or not die for women you were sword to protect with your life or not slurp things out of big tankards with it dribbling down your chin? Where was the fun in that? What was the point?

Minsc didn't get it, he didn't want to get it, and today in his office he was going to make sure he was being extra barbarous to make up for it. That explained all the daggers and short swords that were sticking into things like walls and the door and his desk and why all the books (all four of them) were thrown together to make a nice little (contained) fire for light and warmth (it was plenty warm, but it was probably barbarous to sweat a lot, too), and why Minsc had his feet promptly thrown up on his desk and why he would belch with abandon and scratch his arse every now and again, too.

There. Barbarism. And Minsc couldn't be happier.

[[ door and post are open, of course! ]]

It was Monday and a new semester and time to probably take a break from Adventures, which was a little saddening for Minsc, but he understood that duty sometimes meant having to go into a little room and sitting behind a desk and pretending to look busy and important.

The busy part he managed pretty well; it involved a lot of shuffling of papers and liberal use of the stapling device (which he was also thinking could be used as quite an interesting weapon in a pinch). The important part, however, would probably continue to need some more work. The occasional outburst of, "Oh, my, a hard day's work is never done, is it, Boo?" probably lost some of it's punch in making him seem important considering that it was, in fact, directed toward a hamster making a nest out of previously nibbled and shredded papers.

[[ open door, open office, open post, open open open, open. ]]

Hey, everyone! Happy 4th of July to the Americans among us, and I wanted to apologize for all the mis-coding that left links erroneous from last night's radio. Most, if not all, have been fixed and are now hopefully correct for your eavesdropping pleasure, with a big apology from me for not noticing the errors, thanks to youcantfollow for pointing it out, and a big whopping compensation in the form of cuteness. Hopefully no one was too traumatized due to the copious amounts of errors. I know how that is. 404s killed my father.

Now go eat a bazillion hot dogs and blow shit up. It's the American way. ♥

There was this really great thing about being an off-kilter berserker with some head trauma and potential multiple personalities. One day, you could be in the worst mood ever and just want to curl up and die if it weren't for the fact that it was a coward's death, and the next, you could be in the spare room of your house, singing Rashemi warsongs at the top of your lungs as you unpack cool new weapon-like things from another planet, which were signs of one of the best moods ever.

That trip had done Minsc good.

Boo got a little sunburned, though.


[[ open post is open! I'm likely to pass out in about two hours, but Minsc is being very loud in my head right now, omg ]]

Well, it wasn't quite beating each other to a pulp with Sir Deadpool, but the battle with Lady Arya still being played, la did Minsc a little bit of good and left him a few good bruises and bumps to make him feel a little better. It wasn't quite enough, though. Lady Arya was a fine warrior, to be sure, but she reminded Minsc far too much of others he'd known, mostly Jaheira, and so it left him feeling older wounds as well as the fresh ones from the way the adventure this weekend had turned out.

So he and Boo went for a very long walk in the preserve, having a very important conversation about how failures seemed to be quite the habit with him; it always seemed that if only he were a little bit faster, or a little bit stronger, or a little (okay a lot) bit smarter...So that just meant he couldn't let his faults catch up to him. No more. Next time, he would be stronger, and faster, and smarter.

So a lot of that time was also spent with some training, and by the time Minsc came dragging his giant self back to the house, it was very late and he was very tired and it had been a long, long, long weekend.


[[ intended for someone still there and up at this 'late, late' hour, but also open to housemates if'n they like! Clearly, this happens well after the earlier 25 Uni post ]]

Since yesterday after Fight Club, Minsc had been able to use two cure light wounds spells which left him...really, you couldn't tell the difference from his bruises and batterings this morning from how he looked last night, but it was glorious. A good rumble in the gym always left him in the best of moods, even if it left him with a collection of new purple on his head that weren't exactly like the one already there and made his bones and muscles creak a little when he moved. That's how you knew you were successful; your body groaned in victory and you were still alive to hear it!

To celebrate, he and Boo were playing a rousing game of Risk. Rousing in that there seemed to be absolutely no attention paid to the rules and, instead, there was just a lot of random attacks and battles being played out by clashing all the little pieces together, complete with dying noises and last-breath curses to the enemy.

And a lot of being eaten by giant rodent monsters, too.

Sure, Minsc figured he should probably be making plans for the final workshop of the session but this was much, much more fun.


[[ open door, open post! I get way too excited about new Taran Fahir pictures and can't stop using this icon, even if it has nothing to do with the post ]]

Minsc was trying not to think about things. In general, this was a rule he liked to live by, but lately, especially after the bar last night, it just seemed like a good idea. Things were...confusing, and he'd come to realize that the more he thought about them, the worse they got, and he was going to dedicate himself to not thinking about anything but important stuff while he was in his office.

Important stuff, it appeared, meant circling around the office, working on rolls and dodges and ducks with Boo.

And somehow, as always, in the course of all that rolling and dodging and ducking, Boo had actually managed to wind up on top of Minsc, face down on the floor and chuckling as the hamster pinned him on his back. "Dammit, Boo," Minsc said between laughs, "you always get me on that one, you sneaky bastard rodent!"


[[ door and post are open! ]]

In his office today, Minsc was attempting to compose a letter. This was difficult going not only because Minsc was not generally a fan of writing, but also because Boo's habit of chewing on the edges and making the paper wet with saliva, which made it rip easier, especially since Minsc tended to write like he was etching runes into stones.

"Dear...Spawn...of...Bhaal..."

He also talked while he wrote.

"How...are...you? I...am...okay. I...hope...none...of...your...half...siblings...have...tried...to...kill...you...again. If...they...have...you...should...real-ly...let...me...know, because...I...would...like...to...kick...their...butts! An..nee...ways...I...have...a...request. Please...send...armour. Good stuff. En...chanted stuff...if...you...can...manage. Maybe...with...those...really...cool...shoulder...wing...thingies, too. Those...are...neat. I...am...in...dire...need...of...some. Long...story. Will...explain...in....sub...see...quent...letters. Tell...the...others...I...said...hi.

Love,
Minsc. And. Boo!

P.S. If...you...can...find...enchantments...against...women, much...obliged. No...offense. You...don't...count. Please...don't...smite...me. Or...don't...let...Jaheira...see...that...part. Thanks."

"Ah-ha!" Minsc held up the letter proudly. "Perfect!"

[[ door and post are open! ]]