Roslyn's Functional Bottom Bunk

Strumming a soft song as she sat criss-cross apple sauce on her bed, Roslyn hummed the sweet tune of 'Truce' by Twenty One Pilots while lounging on her bottom bunk. She hadn't trusted herself with the top of the set of beds when she arrived nearly two years ago to the day, with her many personal items and an awful spell of clumsiness, it was definitely a disaster waiting to happen. So the daughter of Apollo settled on the more safe of the choices, the bottom. Hitting a wrong note on her precious uke, a cringe rippled across her expression as she stilled her fingers from flowing with anymore motion. Hoping none of her half-siblings heard, she quickly hummed the rest of the song to herself as she resumed her strumming.
While she played, Roslyn looked up across from her to the little shelf attached to the end of her bunk that was set into the wall. Studying the little picture frames that lined the little outlet, she grinned softly at the small framed photo of her mortal family, then to the little scattered photos of instruments she'd became acquainted with along the years. Brass and Woodwinds and Strings. A fond smile fluttering onto her lips as she ceased humming for the time being, she simply strummed as she stared towards the delicately framed photo of her ukulele. Life was good.