Pixie Stix B3, Friday Afternoon

[wesleynotponcy]

Wesley returned to his cabin after class to discover an elderly British man sitting on his bed.

"Er. Hello," said Wesley. Obviously the Watchers' Council was keeping tabs on him. How wonderful.

When the man responded, it was in a dry, slow voice like that of a professor whose students are always checking to see if he fell asleep between sentences

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[rilla_myrilla]

Rilla stomped through the cabin looking harassed as another young woman in an enormous hat trailed behind her.

"Wesley, have you seen my hat?" she finally asked. The woman behind her grinned.

[wesleynotponcy]

Wesley cut off his book by holding up a hand, though he looked a bit pained to be doing so. "No, I haven't," he replied. He held out a hand for Rilla's hat to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said politely.

[rilla_myrilla]

"Likewise," the hat replied. "I've tried telling her--" the hat had apparently picked up Rilla's fondness for italics, "--but she won't believe me. Who is your friend?"

Rilla just stared in confusion.

[wesleynotponcy]

"Gunderson's Index of Demons," said the book in his buzzing voice, cutting Wesley off. "Apparently a favorite book of Wesley's, here."

Wesley tried to interject that the book wasn't likely to be his favorite for long if it kept talking over him, but the book said, Hush, boy," and Wesley quieted.