carpe_demon: (AU Cal Perplexed)
His class was over, but Drake was still in his office today, trying to decide what kind of workshop to teach over the summer break. Something...epic. Stimulating. Enriching.

Underwater basketweaving was probably right out.
carpe_demon: (Why is there pudding on the ceiling?)
Drake was in his office, playing Family Feud on Facebook. The occasional cry of "Oh, COME ON. Who comes up with these questions?" could be heard.
carpe_demon: (Why is there pudding on the ceiling?)
Drake was tossing a few things in a suitcase for a quick weekend trip to knock a few more items off his bucket list. He didn't really need a suitcase, what with being able to change his clothes at the snap of his fingers, but he liked to play the part of tourist with all the proper accessories.

He certainly wasn't expecting anyone to derail his plans or anything. Clearly, he'd never been in Fandom after prom.
carpe_demon: (O RLY?)
Drake was in his office, planning out a weekend trip. Because nothing was going to happen this weekend to disrupt those plans, right?
carpe_demon: (I'm giving this some thought)
Drake was in his office, pondering...well, he was pondering several things. Like covering every object in Deadpool's office in tin foil. Or filling Anakin's with Cheetos. Or coating Ghanima's office in post-its. Or replacing Zoe's computer with a cardboard replica. Or maybe fill Paige's office with balloons. And there was always just filling the admin office with rats. But the trouble with April Fool's Day was everyone saw you coming. Better he should wait until, say, May 6. Now that would be a surprise.
carpe_demon: (I'm adorable and I know it)
Drake was in his office, blasting hits from the 80s.

At least, one would hope it was just music he was listening to, and not a certain website.
carpe_demon: (I'm totally OOC)
If I manage to put it up at all. If it doesn't go up, handwave an email from Drake canceling class on account of him being in jail somewhere due to doing something questionable on his bucket list, probably involving public nudity.

I have to leave work in a few minutes and go to the vet to say goodbye to my boy Tristan. I will likely come back sorely in need of distraction, though I don't know if I can manage to be Drake, so class is iffy.

The next few days are going to be rough, so please bear with me.
carpe_demon: (A dancing demon? No something isn't righ)
Drake was in his office, deciding he desperately needed to see Lady Gaga in concert before he went tits up. It was a moral imperative.
carpe_demon: (I'm adorable and I know it)
Drake was in his office, attempting to earworm anyone who came to visit or dared have their office door open today.

A little bit of Monica in my life
A little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need
A little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun
A little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am
A little bit of you makes me your man
carpe_demon: (I've fallen and I can't get up)
Drake woke up in his own bed by some good fortune. He patted down his body to make sure everything was where it should be (not that things had been missing over the weekend, but he just wanted to be sure he was Drake-Drake and not a dragon drake or Drake Mallard or Ludwig Von Drake or anything like that now), then got up and flung open the window.

"All right," he yelled at the island. "The wackiness and the gremlin bites and the man your man could smell like are kind of fun and all, but making me get in the way of True Love? Not cool, Island. You and I are going to have words."

Drake had priorities.
carpe_demon: (!Back to Me)
Look at your office. Now back to mine. Now back at your office. Now back to mine. Sadly, yours isn't mine.

The Man Your Man Could Smell Like was in.
carpe_demon: (I have a charming smile)
The demon was in and rocking out to Pat Benatar's Greatest Hits: Fire And Ice, Love Is A Battlefield, Heartbreaker, Sex As A Weapon, and of course, We Live For Love.

Your love's contagious, one kiss is dangerous
But I have more to risk, than you to lose
I feel passion growing
I know that love is only just one inch away, from striking us
We Live For Love
We Live For Love

He was definitely going to have to write some fan mail to the lady.
carpe_demon: (I have a charming smile)
Drake was in his office (sans cat, mouse, or monkey) this week as per usual. He was in a fabulous mood, which may have been while he was playing the radio a bit too loudly.

Sweat, baby, sweat, baby, sex is a Texas drought
Me and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about
So put your hands down my pants, and I'll bet you'll feel nuts
Yes I'm Siskel, yes I'm Ebert, and you're getting two thumbs up
You've had enough of two-hand touch, you want it rough, you're out of bounds
I want you smothered, want you covered, like my Waffle House hashbrowns
Come quicker than FedEx, never reach an apex, just like Coca-Cola stock you are inclined
To make me rise an hour early just like Daylight Savings Time

The demon was in, but not, at the moment, doing it like they do on the Discovery Channel.
carpe_demon: (I'm adorable and I know it)
Drake left a note in his office that he was holding his office hours in the park today if anyone was looking for him.

He could be found there with a table and a chair set up under a tree. And with him were a cat, a mouse, and a monkey. Were anyone to approach, they would hear him say, "Come on, come on! Someone's coming, someone's coming! Quick, positions! Les positions, maintenant! Boulot, boulot! Tout de suite! Vas-y! Vas-y!"

[Yeah. IDEK.]
carpe_demon: (I'm adorable and I know it)
Drake was in his office, making plans. That may have involved a monkey. It was probably best not to ask.
carpe_demon: (O RLY?)
Drake was in his office, busily scouring the internet for info about the newest Robin Hood movie. If they kept to the mid-May release date, he should be able to see it before he was pining for the fjords.
carpe_demon: (I'm Robin Hood bitch)
Drake was in his office, playing Treasure Madness on Facebook. He might have been vowing that if he shelled out hard-earned gold to hire minions to lift a giant statue and find nothing one more time, he was going to tract down the game developer and tie him or her up and force them to watch Glitter over and over and over again.

[ooc: The demon is in, but his player is suffering from a toothache and thus will be especially slow today. Yes, I'm always slow. Shut up.]
carpe_demon: (I'm looking at homework)
Drake had listened to last night's radio broadcast, so he was more than happy to leave a copy of the list of movies pinned to Deadpool's office door. Then it was off to his office for the day, where he was cranking some music.
carpe_demon: (I'm looking at homework)
Drake was in his office, busy writing on the paper in front of him. He was composing an epic love poem to Castiel. Somehow, he would convince the angel his love was true and pure.

And if that didn't work, he'd go back to the hot angel-on-demon RPF.
carpe_demon: (I'm adorable and I know it)
The demon was in. Drake was leaning back in his chair, green-elfish-shoed feet up on his desk, scanning a magazine the proclaimed itself "PlayDemon." He read it for the articles, really.


carpe_demon: (Default)

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