Hannah and Lina
Hannah had debated whether or not to go to the party; on one hand, she sort of wanted to meet the others to learn what kind of dumbasses she'd be stuck with for the year (special ones, if some of her journal interactions that day were anything to go by), but on the other hand, she had a feeling it was going to turn out like some kind of boring corporate bullshit shindig, what with everyone uncomfortably nursing drinks in various corners of the room and maybe one or two drunk assholes douching it up front and center.
But curiosity had won out and she'd decided to go. She got dressed, red jeans and a black top, threw on some flats and jewelry, and slapped on a bit of makeup - not a lot, because a) she wasn't some pretentious ass who had to be totally dolled up to meet people (though she was vain enough to at least not want to go entirely without) and b) anything more complicated took her for-fucking-ever considering she couldn't see what the fuck she was doing. Pulling her hair into a ponytail that hung over one shoulder, she grabbed her cane and headed downstairs.
She had no fucking idea where the billiards room was, but following the sounds of conversation once she was on the ground floor was easy. "What's up, bitches?" she greeted as she entered, stepping to the side so she wouldn't block the door for anyone else while she was listening and trying to get her bearings. "Who's going to point me in the direction of the booze?"