Halcyon Halls

Who: Sasha (open)
What: Snacks and karaoke and, duh, snacks.
When: Evening
Where: The Garage

Some days just didn't end like they began.

Sasha had started the day in fine form: cotton-soft top, chic tartan skirt, and sensible footwear. She ran her errands without much fuss or trouble, double-checking with the grocer on Blues’ behalf, dropping off a roll of film to develop for Dr. Quinn, and successfully finding the local hardware store to snag a Dremel MultiPro. Unfortunately, she spent too much time deciding on the model and too little paying attention to the sky. The freaking rain got her like a sniper shot.

Rain, rain, rain. Crazy, pretty, incendiary rain. Hiding the sky, ruining her shoes, knocking on coffins, giggling at the girl below. It felt like someone rubbed menthol on the wrong side of her skin: invisible, impossible, and cool. Cold. Why did it have to be rain, why here? The rain in Spain stayed mainly in the pla—stop that.

Her “form” never had a chance; Sasha’s subsequent meltdown wasn’t quite Oz-worthy, but it did grate her composure into pure irritability. She spent a commendable couple hours caged in her room before admitting defeat and bolting back into town. Trooping across the still damp streets—while dutifully avoiding the few surviving puddles—Sasha considered her options.

The Pitt? Too much. Loft? Too little. Imaginarium? No games. No, what she wanted was—what? Noise. People. Life. Food. Definitely food, preferably in reckless, copious amounts—oh!

What passed the Garage’s doorstep didn’t look soft or chic or sensible. Either the jeans or the braids would have been enough to get Sasha quarter-horsed back home. Though truth be told, she didn’t look strange; she just didn’t look like…Sasha. The only recognizable part of her on the clock persona was the dog by her side.

(“It’s my roommate,” she explained, straight-faced and earnest. “Poor thing’s still recovering from the last full moon.”

Sure, the lie was stunningly obvious and Sasha got her first weird look of the night, but both dog and girl got in. On Bacalao bravado got you far, or at least far enough.)

First, she caught a bar seat. Second, she got Dizzy water and a bowl of “fixin’s” (as her Papa used to say when talking about delicious miscellanea.) Then…oh, then Sasha got to work.

Pizza. Onion rings, basket of fries. Potato skins with extra cheese. Bacon-wrapped jalapeños. A horde of chili-and-cheese poppers. That crunchy thing sprinkled with parsley? Bring it on. Oh, and did they have anything pickled and fried, ‘cause she’d take three if yes. Sasha quickly compiled a shove-down worthy of a starving Viking. Folding the pizza pita-style over the heart attack mess, Sasha grinned like the Big Bad Wolf coming off a tofu diet. It was almost perfect.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke.” The bartender shook his head.

Ah, perfect. “Time me?”

Exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, Sasha was sucking the last splotch of marinara off her fingers. The bartender shook his head again…but he was smiling. Sasha capitalized on the moment by commandeering the nearest bowl of peanuts. On stage, the latest karaoke fatality was belting out “My Way” and Sasha grinned to hear it.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you know when I bit off more than I could chew… Oh, she liked this one, yes.

The place was crowded, she noted. Good Friday fodder. People were talking and smiling, touching shoulders. Laughter spilled frequently through the whiskey-toned atmosphere. The mood had a good, generous feel to it. A large number of the tables was fully loaded, and the tavern door never seemed to stay closed for long.

When the song ended, Sasha applauded wildly, adding a two-finger whistle for good measure. She swiveled back round to the bar, exchanging her perfectly empty bowl for one with better prospects. Admittedly, this means stealing the peanuts right out from under her neighbor’s nose, but, hey, all’s fair in love and snackery.

“Feeling brave?” she asked, purloined munchies in no way shadowing her smile.

Who: Cissy and Sydni
When: Evening
Where: The Caf

Dinner. Why was it that everyone always wanted to meet over food? Cissy could barely stand food. She hated trying to eat in front of someone. She felt pressured to at least try to eat and then she just felt sick with herself afterwards. But apparently Sydni was a busy girl and dinner was pretty much the only free time that she had. But why did it have to be the Cafeteria? The food there was hardly edible. Granted, it was better than some of the Cafeteria food she had eaten, or not eaten rather, in her life, but it was still just.. Well eww. It made her feel disgusting just thinking about eating it. She preferred to only eat food that she prepared herself, truth be told, just so she would know exactly what was going into her body. But whatever! She was here anyway.

With a sigh, Cissy glanced around looking for this girl that she was to meet under the pretense of easing the other girl's mind about Cissy being involved with Simon. Aww, Simon. Just thinking about him made her smile. The truth of the matter was, however, that Cissy wanted to size her up, see whether or not she had anything to worry about when it came to this girl. Was she potential competition? Cissy wasn't sure yet, and that was the entire point of this little meet and greet. Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. That was the golden rule, wasn't it? That's what she had always thought.

While waiting, it was decided that Cissy needed a fresh manicure. She would see to that after school on Friday. It was also decided that she would go for the spaghetti simply because that was something she could push around enough to make it look like she had eaten some without really having to eat it. She had already had a protein shake so she was good until tomorrow. And then finally someone started to approach her in their designated meeting area and she had to assume that it was Sydni. She frowned a little though it was hardly noticeable. She was cute. That was disappointing.

"You must be Sydni." The frown was replaced with her best smile as she extended a hand. "Cecilia, but you can call me Cissy."

Who: James and Ita
When: Afternoon
Where: The library
What: A chance encounter

Avoiding everyone was quickly becoming James thing. Ever since he had returned from his mother's funeral, had he been this way. Granted, he had spent some time with Cissy when he first got back and had gone out one with Natalia, but that was it. And neither of those things had made him feel better at all. Natalia had basically rejected him even though he had tried his best to do better, to show her that he could be better, and he had thought that... well that there was something there but apparently he had been mistaken.

And then there was Cissy. He had been hot for her for a long time and she always turned him down. Always. But she was now dating some kid? What was that about? There was nothing that could have made him feel much better than he felt already than that. For real though, what the fuck? The kid must have been damn good in bed or something. He gave the whole relationship two months tops before Cissy left him heart broken and went back to sleeping with that asshole demon fuck again. But what did he really care? It wasn't like he had real feelings for her. No, those were otherwise occupied.

Speaking of occupied, reading had become a fast hobby of his. He had always rather enjoyed a good book, but since he had become the resident house of fire recluse, he had found himself breezing through novel after novel with very little thought. It was a welcome escape to staring out his window at the darkness and pondering the million and one things that he had to ponder.

Of course this new hobby led him to spend much time in the school's library which was, for the most part, quite empty. He liked it that way and he had gotten used to it being that way which was why, as he moved from one section to another, he hadn't bothered to use any of his extra senses to keep him from plowing into the girl that was making a similar move from one row to the next. And the books in her hands, and his own, went flying from his and her grasp as an arm moved out to grab her around the waist in an attempt to keep her from crumpling to the floor.

"Sorry..." James mumbled, not sounding at all convincing though his body language spoke of him being genuine. And he immediately knelt down to start picking up books, his and hers both.