Dorm, UC-Sunnydale, Late Sunday Afternoon
Tara looked up from her laptop screen -- which held a half-finished essay on Roman statuary for her art history class -- and rubbed her forehead. She liked college. She did. It was just the actually writing academic papers, with cited sources and proper grammar, was a little challenging after three and a half years in which her classes were called things like "How to Survive a Zombie Apocalypse" and "Competitive Cooking."
"Fandom," she murmured to herself, "I love you, but you are not like the real world."
She needed a brain break. She could go see what Warren was doing, or volunteer at the co-op in exchange for free hummus, or see if there was any new stock at the magic shop in town, or -- watch a couple hours of nature documentary clips on Youtube.
By the time she clicked on a fifth clip about penguin families, it was rapidly becoming clear that team YouTube was winning.
[OOC: Open to calls/texts/emails/visits from those in Sunnydale.]
"Fandom," she murmured to herself, "I love you, but you are not like the real world."
She needed a brain break. She could go see what Warren was doing, or volunteer at the co-op in exchange for free hummus, or see if there was any new stock at the magic shop in town, or -- watch a couple hours of nature documentary clips on Youtube.
By the time she clicked on a fifth clip about penguin families, it was rapidly becoming clear that team YouTube was winning.
[OOC: Open to calls/texts/emails/visits from those in Sunnydale.]