Celia, who was a late riser by nature, was even less inclined than usual to get out of bed this morning. And that seemed entirely excusable -- she'd stayed up quite late the night prior, after all, and it was Saturday, and Saturdays were meant for sleeping in a bit. Particularly when one had someone to sleep in with, as she was discovering ( Read more... )

Celia had never been one for Christmas, really. It didn't hold much weight for her father aside from increased ticket prices for the month of December, and for Celia, all that had meant was more time spent on her own in hotels and dressing rooms. She had vague memories of attending midnight mass with her mother as a child, of candles and wishes ( Read more... )

It was miserable to be angry and upset and heartbroken, under totally normal circumstances. It was even more miserable, somehow, to be angry and upset and heartbroken when school was out for break. It had been a cruel twist of fate that Celia had found the incriminating letter in Ichabod's room the very day before she was to take her last exam, and ( Read more... )

After her technology class, Celia found herself far more intrigued by computers and the like than she had been up to this point. Yes, of course they provided ample resources to educate herself further -- but there was simply so much, and such a steep learning curve, that she didn't exactly know where to start. It had been nearly a hundred and fifty ( Read more... )

As adorably traditionalist Celia found it to be a magic user toting an owl around, she was really beginning to worry. Today was the ninth day since Ichabod had turned into a bird, and Celia had finally gotten herself some books from the library on animal transformation after her conversation with Barry yesterday ( Read more... )

Celia had slept from the moment she'd gotten home last night (thank you, Squall) until it was early afternoon today. And when she finally woke up, it was only enough to pad out to the common room, still half-asleep, for some water and an apple that she found before she meandered back into bed, only to wake up a couple hours later more permanently ( Read more... )

Celia had begun to develop a problem.

It wasn't a real problem, of course. But it was one that was necessitating the building of furniture: she had too many books, and not enough space ( Read more... )

It had been an interesting week for Celia, to say the least. Today was the first time in what seemed like ages that she'd woken up and just felt...normal. Not exceptionally good or frustrated or lazy, just...her normal self ( Read more... )

Celia was already having a perfectly lovely day.

She'd gone to her two classes, frightfully afraid of the subject matter in both of them. Upon arriving back in her room, she'd immediately become distracted by her own reflection in the mirror, and spent a half hour taking her hair down and putting it back up, carefully placing each pin in exactly ( Read more... )

There were few things in life more irritating than being sick -- or, worse yet, being sick and having the nagging feeling that you'd missed out on something due to your illness ( Read more... )