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... )

This was the second time in a week that Celia had donned her blue jeans (and critically examined her hips in a mirror for no less than fifteen minutes, once she had done so) and headed off the island. This trip, however, held far less promise of education, and far more expectation of glitter. Yes, Celia could make her own dress (and Eleanor's, for ( Read more... )

Celia had changed overnight (and she'd argue that it was for the better, thank you, when she was awake enough to do so.) Of course, Celia was also a very, very deep sleeper, and probably wouldn't have woken up if they'd experienced an avalanche, much less something as subtle as this ( Read more... )

Well, this weekend had gone about as disastrously as it was possible for it to have gone. Celia's father had criticized everything from the school itself to her figure to the company she kept, and she was exhausted. Because, of course, not only had she had to endure her father's endless tirade about everything he found unacceptable here, but Celia ( 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 stopped to get coffee for herself and Eleanor on the way home from work, and had been perhaps a touch creative in her order -- there was more caramel and whipped cream in both drinks than actual coffee, but she didn't much care. The day was dreary enough to warrant both a hot drink and a treat ( Read more... )

It was early afternoon by the time Celia and Ichabod had reached the stables she'd found with the Google, thanks to an uneventful ferry ride to the island followed by a similarly-uneventful (but still exciting for the two of them) cab ride ( Read more... )