(no subject)
There was something to be said for the feast or famine philosophy, as Clarice had gone months with very little to do beyond her typical sessions and assorted paperwork when she and Catherine had gotten slammed with the responsibility of evaluating some fifty-plus Council candidates. While part of her had been glad to be well and truly busy again, Clarice was glad it was now over and the speeches done so that she could properly consider her own vote (Not to mention be glad for the reenforcement of the idea that she most certainly did not want to be on the Council.)
The compound was quite busy today, teeming with people fresh from the speeches, standing around sipping coffee or tea and discussing the upcoming election. Who was worth voting for, who wasn't. Who was insane, attractive, intelligent, worthless.
For her part, Clarice was curled up in one of the chairs in the corner of the rec room, a cup of coffee cradled in one palm as she flipped idly through a copy of Psychology Today.
The compound was quite busy today, teeming with people fresh from the speeches, standing around sipping coffee or tea and discussing the upcoming election. Who was worth voting for, who wasn't. Who was insane, attractive, intelligent, worthless.
For her part, Clarice was curled up in one of the chairs in the corner of the rec room, a cup of coffee cradled in one palm as she flipped idly through a copy of Psychology Today.