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)
Word traveled fast around Fandom.

Therefore Drake was in his office, working up a "Drake's Demon Daycare" sign on his computer. Someone might as well profit from the students' misery!
carpe_demon: (Why is there pudding on the ceiling?)
Drake knew a few demon hackers who owed him a favor or two. They gave him funny looks when he said it was to hack Farmville of all things, but did as he asked.

No, it wasn't a storage shed. It wasn't stables for his horses or a coop for his chickens. He was waiting for the real programmers to follow through on those things.

No, today Drake was merrily going from neighboring farm to neighboring farm...tipping their cows. MiniDrake, Jono, Piper, Phoebe, Mary, Veronica, Isabel, and Mina all fell victim to his tipping wrath. And he was hunting for more.


[OOC: Im in ur farmz, modding ur cowz. Not a real Farmville feature, but oh how I wish it was. It is in another farm game! ;) ]
carpe_demon: (I'm looking at homework)
Drake was in his office, busily arranging his army of green cows. If only he could march them toward a neighbor's farm....
carpe_demon: (I'm looking at homework)
Drake was in his office, working on next week's lesson.

Well, that was what he'd tell anyone who asked. The truth was he was writing a note to Parker to tell her about an incident involving Bel, one of the Source's concubines, the table in the meeting chamber of the Brotherhood, and a penguin. Surprisingly, there was no jello involved.
carpe_demon: (Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar)
Anyone passing by Drake's office might hear such comments as "I am the Master of Blueberries!" or "Oooh, violet and black hay bales!" or maybe even "Out of sync again? Who programmed this, demons?"

Carry on, go about your business.
carpe_demon: (What? Deadpool loves my eyebrows!)
Drake may have been on Facebook, spamming the other teachers with accounts he'd managed to track down with gifts of animals and trees from Farmville. And, oooh -- new topiaries!

Then a strange ad appeared on the side of the screen: "Do Canadians Wear Pants?" Drake pondered, then click "No." Just because.
carpe_demon: (I'm fondling the BoS)
Drake was in his office for any parental visits or otherwise. He was also totally catching up on the last episode of Project Runway. "Oh, Tim," he sighed. "I don't know if even you with all your power can make them make that work."


[Dealing with car issues this morning so I'm in and out for a bit, but I should be around more solidly late afternoon/evening.]
carpe_demon: (I'm looking at homework)
Drake moved it up a decade and was listening to 80s music today.

He was totally chairdancing to Madonna and not afraid to admit it.

New on his wall was a framed piece of parchment with Arthur and Merlin's signatures. Shhh, being a fanboy wasn't a shameful thing.
carpe_demon: (I'm rocking out)
The door to Drake's office was open, and Drake himself was inside, listening (loudly) to the bounciest and happiest videos he could find on YouTube.
carpe_demon: (I'm giving this some thought)
After inadvertently freaking out several of his students with the class on Arthurian legend yesterday, Drake was concerned about what other books on his syllabus might be upsetting if there were students from the time the stories were based in. So he was checking the student rosters to see if there were any familiar names. No d'Artagnan, no Athos, no Porthos, no Aramis; next week was good. No Peter Blood or Frank N. Stein. No Agamemnon, Achilles, Odysseus, Helen, Hector, or Paris.

He eyed the last group of names, for some reason having a strange feeling that Gabrielle would have a lot to say during that class.


[OOC: No Oversized Polynesian-Style Bamboo Horses were harmed during the production of this post. However, many wicker lawn chairs gave their lives. The demon is in, but may be SP because Thursdays I have to clear the warehouse. BY MYSELF. In the snow. Uphill. Both ways.]

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