Room 507, Thursday Afternoon

Ronan was going through his closet, trying to determine if he had anything appropriate for prom, or if he'd have to make up some new clothes. (He still loved that clothes-creation routine Dairine had shown him.)

His door was open, so anyone going by could see the giant, messy pile of clothes that had built up on the bed. Ronan hadn't yet found anything that he wanted to wear.

[Open door, open post, especially for one! But SP, as I'm off to work soon. I'll pick up pings when I get home, which will probably be... um. 11-ish, Eastern?]