Re: Cass & Mat: the Quiet Home
Ugh. This was getting hazier, murkier. Beneath the tenebrous pitch of those needlessly sumptuous cartier paris sunglasses, you better believe that set of laced brown topaz and greensward eyes were rolling, peeved by this fucking gauntlet of badlighting and equally bad ensembles. But, she was willing. Willing to brew up an idea. Even as she sighed, theatrical and emphatic. Wanting a cigarette, but fairly certain that she can’t smoke in here. For you see, she’s impenetrably stubborn. She likes getting shit done.
“So, we have to go to the principal's office?” she asked, knuckles perched onto the bone-carved arch of her hip. “Are they even here? I’m sure I can give them a very convincing speech about how much you’ve improved, how you can totally operate in society, blah blah blah functional citizen. How you don’t need those meds, anymore. Maybe a haircut, a facial, hot stone massage, but that’s really more for a spa day. What you need now is to be free of this authoritative stranglehold.” she glanced around, where were those plaques that people usually had? The signs pointing to where people lingered in their offices like smoke? “Let’s go talk to the camp counselor.”