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It was very probably a fire hazard.

The way the bulky, wooden desk was pushed up next to the stairs was, if not a fire hazard, extremely annoying: there was just enough room to accidentally bump your hip against it as you walked past, guaranteeing many students would have a little desk-made bruise at the exact same height as each other on one thigh. And with every person that unknowingly hip-checked the desk on their way past, the little stacks of colored paper tilted to one side again, like little Leaning Towers of Pisa. And each time, Laney reached forward and straightened them cheerfully again.

"Would you like to sign up for Game Night?" she tried bravely at each new person that walked past. "I made a flyer so you don't forget when it is, but I'm sure you won't be able to miss it right out in the common area! You could help run an event, too, or bring something! The proceeds go to -- "

Unfortunately by the time she got to the proceeds going anywhere, the person she was talking to usually got to their room and disappeared safely inside.

Undaunted, she restacked her flyers: pink pile, yellow pile, green pile, blue pile. People would definitely sign up. No problem.

Big Bad Voodoo Daddy were perhaps Imogen’s favourite contemporary swing band ever and she always turned up the volume on her little silver iPod as soon as they came on. She bounced along as she walked, throwing in a little twirl or side step when no one else was in sight on her way back to her dormroom. She’d been stuck in an awful maths lesson for far too long and the redhead felt like she had so much pent up energy to burn off during this free period. Imo planned to head back to her dorm to dump her maths book first and then -!

She bounded up the stairs taking them two at a time, humming along to the iPod as she went. Imo flung herself around the corner with gusto only to yelp loudly when instead of moving through empty air, her hip caught the edge of a wooden desk hard.

“Oh ow. Ow goddamnit ow” She flailed, before regaining her balance and rubbing her bruised hip. She pulled off her iPod and looked at the girl behind the desk with a tremulous smile then to the short haired girl. She would not cry. She would not. She really wouldn't because with Big Bad Voodoo Daddy blaring from the headphones around her neck, she couldn't but find it sorta funny. The smile steadied. How many people had hit themselves on that desk so far, she had to wonder.

“…hey Laney. Hey Kimmie.”

"Perfect!" she beamed like a sun lamp set to 'noon in the Sahara desert.' "Kimmie Harris, right, room 58! The swimmer!" She nodded to herself like this was a foregone conclusion, then smartly selected a blue flyer -- swimmers loved blue, didn't they? -- and pressed it directly into Kimmie's hand. "You should sign up for game night! It's only two dollars to join in the fun, and proceeds go to raising awareness about second floor issues. Plus it'll just be really fun if everyone goes!"

There was a little clay jar sitting at Laney's left elbow with 'Hopes & Dreams' fired in ceramic glaze on the front of it. It was notably empty, which sent a fairly depressing message.

Laney blinked at the new arrival, straightening her papers again matter-of-factly. "And Imogen from room 46, welcome home, did you know Strictly Ballroom is one of my favorite movies? I'll always think of you now, I love the pasodoble, so romantic! I think I like Moulin Rouge better, though -- they're both great movies."

She held up a pink flyer right under the other girl's nose. "Come to game night! Help raise awareness about second floor issues! Make new friends!"

"Oh!" Laney popped up from her seat, looking worryingly like she was about to stand on her chair. Instead she just bobbed awkwardly from foot to foot. "I'm so glad you asked. For example, did you know that when you don't clean the lint trap in the dryer, the machine has to work that much harder to dry your clothes and takes longer and gets a lot hotter. Firefighters say the most common cause of house fires is from lint buildup in dryers! And if people keep forgetting to clean the lint trap in the second floor dryer, when it breaks there won't be any money in the dorm budget to buy a new one, so we'll all have to carry our laundry to another floor. If more people would just clean it out every so often, we wouldn't have this problem."

She looked very enthusiastic about the lint traps issue.

"Solution: game night." Laney smiled broadly again and held up a clipboard with a sparkly pen on a string and a lined piece of paper. "Siiiign up for a good cause," she hinted unsubtly.

“Second floor issues? What’s all that fuss?” grumbled Arastoo as he climbed up the stairs. He stopped several steps before completely reaching the next floor, however; even he could see the desk from there. Unimpressed, and very much unaware of what was going on (though he noted the flyers were stacked by color, and that was a good point, almost completely countered by the presence of that weird jar at the other side), he spoke up. “Is that desk the issue?”

[Hope it's not a problem if Ara comes to check. whee ]

"Me," said Elke, pushing her way to the front of the group and favoring Laney with an irritatingly bright smile. She liked Laney; of course, Elke liked everyone, but Laney seemed to be Elke's kind of girl and so she liked Laney specifically, and if you asked Elke would be all 'yeah i totally like her she is a nice person'.

She signed the clipboard and deposited her two dollars. "I am so not taking my laundry to other floors," said Elke. She fluffed her newly blue hair, thinking that it would be a devil's decision anyway. If she went upstairs to dry her clothes, Giselle would see it. If she went downstairs, her boyfriend would see it! What a terrible choice to have to make...

“Why don’t we just put up a sign by the dryer asking people to empty the lint trap or something? Or I could check it every other day before I go out jogging, it wouldn't take a second.” Imogen checked the flyer again. Really, the lint trap? That was what this was all about. She could hardly bubble over with enthusiasm about a lint trap. Maybe if they went for something more exciting then it’d spark the imagination a bit more.

“Not that I don’t like the idea of a games night and dorm pride and all, but…the lint trap? Couldn’t we …I don’t know, save up to get a nice sound system for everyone to use in our common room or something cool for the kitchen?”