ANNA HAD A PHONE! Anna was not entirely clear on what you were supposed to do with a phone, but she was having some great success with "pushing lots of button and seeing what happens to the screen." She hadn't yet managed to break anything, either, which probably said more for Stark tech than it did for Anna's approach to familiarizing herself with ( Read more... )

The kid sitting in the common room watching Skinemax looked like Joker, and talked like Joker, and watched pornography like Joker, but was not Joker ( Read more... )

So, everyone was back from Skyrim safe and sound, and no one (at least, no one Joker knew of) had come down with dysentery, or Legionnaire's, or botulism, or tetanus, or anything. Success ( Read more... )

Yesterday's class had gotten pretty ridiculous, and because Gwen was a totally rational person who felt like she should have been granted sainthood somewhere around hour five of the discussion, today there was gonna be a party ( Read more... )

This morning, everyone in the school got a last-minute email announcing Joker's birthday party, and there were flyers posted in a few places throughout the dorms. Both strictly insisted "no presents, please ( Read more... )

Celia had grown tired of the strange coldness of the room she shared with Eleanor -- it came and went, in patches and bursts, and something about the room made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. As much as she loved the architecture and design of the house, and as much as it was almost a relic of home...perhaps it had been left too long on ( Read more... )

It was a lovely day today. Exactly the sort of day to spread a blanket out on the lawn, wear sunglasses, read a book and enjoy the sunshine ( Read more... )

Joker and Eleanor were not on a date. Dates were lovely, but dates were private affairs, not ones where they set up in the common room and tried to lure other people into joining the activity. (Which would be a little odd, since most date-related activities involved kissing, anyway ( Read more... )

Cordelia was sitting at the StuCo table, glittery sign and all, and more than ready to take your money in exchange for ticket sales. Moreso, she was willing to try and talk you into putting her name in the voting box for prom queen, because some things were just supposed to happen, okay.

She'd better not get glitter on her.

It was so sudden. One moment, Eleanor had been carving up a harpie, and the next -- it was gone. So were the zombie piranhas. And Eleanor was ... Eleanor, again. Finally. Somehow.

But the memories of it -- who she had been, what she had done -- were clawing at her. She'd been someone careless and dark, and before that, the Messiah her mother had ( Read more... )