nadiathesaint: (soft light)
Nadia lounged on the floor near her bed, her guitar perched on her lap. She would have loved to be playing on the roof, but suspected fig pudding would not be good for her guitar.

She played a song that she'd heard from a traveling band on a sailboat back in Argentina. Unfortunately, she couldn't quite remember all the lyrics )

Forutnately, the lyrics weren't that complicated. Because the chording was, a little.

As she quietly sang the flute part, she thought over the events of the day. Photography had gone really well, though lunch had been a bit odd, and the Entertainment workshop had been a bit of a fiasco. Now she had detention, which really, really sucked. Then there was following "Fishgrenade" all over the place, which had at least ended well, hence her possibly disgustingly good mood.

She was going to want to have words with Artie, though. Making her think her roommate and boyfriend had gone insane.

[ooc: open to those who knock]
nadiathesaint: (dead)
Despite her best efforts, Nadia eventually fell asleep. And dreamed.

Last night, she’d dreamed about the things her possessed friends had done. Tonight, her subconscious was offering up some of the things they hadn’t gotten around to doing before she’d been rescued. So it was actually something of a relief when the dreams changed.

It’s a chicken, I tells ya! A chicken!! )

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nadiathesaint

July 2007

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