lovemykilt: (existential)
Priestly had gotten back in from Santa Cruz late enough last night that all he'd managed to do was fall over into bed fully dressed and pass out.

As it turned out, pretending to be "normal" and to go to a "normal" school was completely exhausting. And explaining to Trucker when he finally managed to get out of the house to grab a break from normal why he was trying to act and look "normal" instead of just being himself to his parents and getting them to deal with it was even more exhausting.

But he was finally back, his hair was finally brightly colored again, and he was now staring into the mirror trying to get the light stubble he'd managed to recultivate to thicken by pure will alone.

[ooc: And I'm back! Post is as open as you want it to be.]
lovemykilt: (Boaz - mouth fixation)
Priestly was completely unaware that anything weird was going on on the island. He wasn't sleeping any more than usual, his dreams were pretty much the same as always (some day, some day he wouldn't get woken up before the end of that one with Debbie Harry), and he'd been rather . . . preoccupied, anyway, what with going home for the weekend.

It wasn't that he didn't actually want to see his parents and friends back home. It was more that he was dreading the idea that his parents might realize he'd been lying out his ass about "shaping up" his image since getting here and keep him from coming back.

Which would be why he was currently standing in front of his mirror, rubbing his newly shaved and piercingless chin and trying not to look at the god-awful clothes he'd kept crammed into the bottom of his suitcase, just in case.

He was wearing khakis for godssake.

That hadn't been burned!

[ooc: expecting one, but open as well.]
lovemykilt: (phone)
Priestly whistled softly to himself, still hyped up from laser tag in class, as he put the finishing touches on the sandwiches for rehearsal. Ramone was doing laps -- up the cage, through the air to Priestly's head, down his back or arm, try to steal some cheese, get chased back to the cage. Over all, it was a lovely sort of afternoon.

Well, until his laptop beeped )

He hung up the phone and thumped his head down onto the desk, narrowly avoiding a pastrami on rye. Now he had a day and a half to wash the dye out of his hair, get the polish off his nails, pick up retainers for his piercings and foundation for his tattoo, and shave.

This sucked.

[ooc: establishy, but the post can most definitely be open.]

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