Jonothon Starsmore furnaceface
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Room 408, Sunday, Late Afternoon
Okay, Jonothon had done his socialization for the day. Gotten out of the room, properly traumatized the teammate by introducing her to an X-Man who was more than a few years younger than she'd figured he'd be. Given dirty looks to the food at the brunch.

It was time to skulk back to his room, pull out his guitar, and play music. Whatever the hell he felt like playing at the time, which, if you asked him, was what being a musician was really all about.

And today, he was even going to leave the door open, in case anybody cared to listen. See? He could be social even when he was being completely antisocial, too.

[Open room, open post, mmm, guitar.]


2009-10-05 02:02 am (UTC) (Link)

Jonothon mused on that for a moment, before he decided that sleeping trees were perhaps trees in the fall, which somehow managed to make everything she'd just said make sense.

He was the sort of person who liked it when things made sense, yes.

//I'm rather fond of it, myself.// A pause. //If I play the notes the way the notes want to be played, do yer suppose yer could manage the same with the words, sunshine?//