Greg stared at his computer screen, trying to process the words his sister had written.

- better opportunities here -

- Mom wants to know WTF is up with a MUSIC class in *your* schedule, Greggie -

- Grandpa's sick again. We're putting him in a home -

They wanted him to come home.

He sat with his laptop for a long, long, moment, assessing things, before he finally got up, made a few calls, and started packing.

[Open! If you think you got a call, you did. Also open to anyone passing by, and teh roomie. Greggie will be leaving Fandom as of tomorrow.]

After finding his...son...in the common room, Greg took him back to his room and got out his gel.

"Okay, buddy," Greg said, grabbing the wee boy (who burst into giggles) around the middle. "Now hold still."

After a few moments, little Joshie's hair was standing straight up in little spikes.

[Open like whoa.]

If anyone came into Lucas and Greg's room (the door was open, after all), they'd see a pair of long, thin legs sticking out from under the bed and would hear what might sound amazingly like someone battling with a pair of socks.

"You will give that back! No, seriously, little sock dude, I realize you wanted to eat my toes but holding my gel hostage isn't the answer!"

[oooooopen.]

Greg had been moping. Kind of a lot.

But sometimes, some things supercede moping. Such as sleep.

"Phrengle," Greg mumbled, rolling over and frowning as her hand hit her chest.

Another thing that supercedes moping would be boobs.

"...HOLY CRAP."

Greg was bored. Naturally, this meant he had to take care of things he'd been putting off for awhile.

So this is Greg, cleaning under his bed. Or, well, poking tentatively at things under his bed.

[For the shadows, and I have to dash off to work soon so not really open.]

Greg slid a petri dish, which he'd set up on Peter's old desk as soon as his roommate had moved out, under his microscope, and smiled a little at the contents.

"Hey there, dude," he said to the teeny tiny growth. "Is it nicer in the dish than the bathroom? Sorry I had to, y'know, clean and kill your buddies, but wasn't it nice of me to save a sample? At least, it'll be nice until Isabel makes me throw you away because it's gross or something. But at this point, if she asks me to kill you, it's you or me. Anyway, until that happens, your name is Earl. Hello, Earl the spore!"


The door, unfortunately enough, was open for all of this.

[Mostly for the new roomie! MAJOR SP as I am heading out to be social and won't be home until evening!]

Having arrived safe and sound in spite of his driving, Greg was poking at the fire while Isabel...did whatever it is girls do in their tent. He wasn't really sure. Right then, he was kind of focused on not freaking out because of what was about to happen.

It wasn't really working.

Greg finally made his way back over to the tent, and tapped his fingertip against the flap. "Can I come in?"


( 'No,' Isabel said from inside the tent. 'Stay out there with the bears.' )

[NFB due to distance, and entirely preplayed. Also not the safest for work.]

Greg? Had not had a good morning. At all.

But a good way to take care of that was by working. So he had set up his microscope and was carefully peering through it at the short, dark hair he had been given a few weeks ago.

The door was cracked open, though, in spite of how absorbed he may have seemed.

Greg was curled up with his laptop, typing away at an email to his sister.

His back was to the door. Which would be convenient if anyone wanted to surprise him, for instance.

[Here for la girlfriend]

Greg was bored. So Greg had checked his handy directory, and was now dialing someone's phone number. And waiting outside her cabin.

[Locked to me.]