The Island of Vinalhaven

Bridget is in a mood today, pissed off about her private life and how things are -- or more accurately, aren't -- going. I'm more important than some stupid SATs, aren't I? And football? And who the hell needs to be a study group, anyway? And since the coke for lunch wasn't enough, she's decided to throw in a little vodka chaser as she sits in her car in the parking lot of the school.

Maybe I should find an unlocked door or something, and leave some people some gifts in their lockers. Snickering to herself, she finds that this is a great plan as she takes another sip form her flask. Why are there so many damn prissy people at this school, anyway? Bridget's got a load of hate boiling in her, and would be more than happy to take it out on anyone and anything if she can.

She's hoping that someone of like mind and similar intentions might show up and they can do a little damage together. Now that would be my kind of teamwork.

Not especially pleased with the ways things have -- or more precisely haven't -- been shaping up, Bridget's decided to go into town tonight instead of waiting around to see if Mike might have some time for her inbetween studying for the SATs and his homework. Even Chad isn't answering his phone right now, and this all has her incredibly annoyed. Why won't anyone pay attention to me! Would it kill them to do something I want to do even once in a while? And she's conveniently forgetting all that Mike did do for her at Homecoming.

With a serious chip on her shoulder, she's looking for trouble in whatever form she can find it tonight with hardly a care about the consequences either. But if she can't find a partner in crime out here, she's going to go home and get stoned out of her skull or settle for drinking herself into oblivion on the beach. Anyone up for a little trouble?

Homecoming is not the hugest night of the school year in Vinalhaven (that would be prom), but it is a pretty big deal. Especially when they've won the game, as they have tonight. Not by a lot, but regardless -- victory was secured, and now the Inn's banquet hall is decorated to house the student body. There's food, drink (non-alcoholic, but there will probably be variety by the evening's end), and yes, chaperones. Sorry, kids, you're not getting away with whatever you like tonight.

The party goes until midnight, upon which smaller after parties might get started. While the chaperones are keeping their eyes on all the exits, it's not too hard to sneak in and out, particularly if you've got a room reserved. Claire Bennet, for her part, is dressed in a little strapless red number her dad barely let her wear. The heels are gold! She feels this is a primary selling point. Anyway, she's all ready to mingle, but also intends to pay her date his fair share of attention.

Donna does manage to persuade Noah that she absolutely totally needs the phone right now, and retreats with it to the spare room she's currently inhabiting. Unsurprisingly, she's quickly personalised the room, unsure of how long she'll be staying in it. It's not as though she's never felt at home in the Bennet house. Actually, she feels pretty awesome there, which is nice, and means she's not uncomfortable on any level when she dials Teddy's number and picks at her nails, waiting for him to answer the phone. Or someone who will get Teddy for her.

Collages are due today, and twenty percent will be docked from the mark if handed in late. They go in their usual place on Mr. Parkman's desk. If you have a plausible excuse for not handing it in yet, just tell him- but you'd better be honest. You snot-nosed brat.

[Please describe your collage in the comments/your pup talking to Matt, and then the collage will be marked/your pup will be spoken to, though the marks are forward-dated to Monday when Matt hands back the written part of the assignment and PUTS THE COLLAGES ON THE HALLWAY WALL. Tremble in fear.]

Time to batten down the hatches, Vinalhaven. The highschoolers have been released for lunch. Lowly freshman and sophomores pour into the cafeteria in droves, battling for spots in the lunch line and seats at the best tables. The juniors and seniors that skipped last period are already peeling out of the parking lot to far-away lunch destinations, and those good students that didn't are still heading that direction.

Of course, then there are the those unfortunate souls not destined for tasty off-campus lunches. You will know them by their sad brown paper bags and lack of friends. Alex is one of those today - though not for long, as he's halfway through whatever Uncle Eddie packed for him before he even gets to the cafeteria. Must stuff face at speed of light!

Today, while ingesting everything edible in the vicinity, Alex is also on a quest! He has one big-titted brunette with a pie, one grumpy terrier, and one General Scooby to track down. Will he find them? Will he starve to death first? WILL HE CHOKE ON A BRAN MUFFIN THE SIZE OF HIS HEAD??? Tune in next time...

((Feel free to hijack this post for lunchtime hijinks, if you so desire! Also, I won't be around to reply after today regardless. Play amongst yourselves!))

New week, new school day, new teacher! And boy, does this guy look like a real number.

Dominik has asked for the Environmental Science class to meet outside, by the front of the school. Those who need to snag a coat or sweater on their way out have been given no more than five minutes to do so. Out on the steps, the teacher hunches over his open professor's bag, which is a little tattered from all its use over the many years. The contents rustle and clank as he digs through it.

"GOOD MORNING!" He suddenly bellows, looking up from the belly of his bag with a great grin. "Awww, look at'chu all, b---bh--bright eyed and buh--bushy tailed!" Only probably not really. "OKAY, so. Let's go over a few tiny things bb-before we start our class today." He squints on the 'tiny' part, dunking in between his shoulders for a note. "First, I want to remind you that the world and her creatures and Green Things are living, too, so respect that the b-best you can. Second, I advise that you all pick up a blank journal, easily purchased at your local bh-bi--bookhaüs or made, if you should feel so inclined."

"There will be maaaaany trips out to field locash--sh-sh-tions during decent weather, much of which may mh-be outside, so please dress accordingly! Girls, I know you like to turn heads with your jean skirts and leg warmers, but ticks and skin allergens don't care too much about your ff-fashion statements. Lab work and field work counts for 70% of your grade! So, you'd do well to do your bh-best at them. Okay, any questions? And the first person to tell me a good plant joke gets five points added to their first ph--p-ph-pa-participation grade." Come on, guys. LIVEN UP!

So Vinalhaven's favorite cheertators (captain and first mate? Who knows?) had an interesting night. There were curfews broken, secrets revealed, and most importantly, boys discussed. Obviously the only way to cope with zero sleep and a lot of complications is to eat pizza at 7 AM. Claire is dressed in different-but-similar clothing -- short skirt, sandals, zip-up hoodie over a tank top, but she figures her dad won't catch on that she was out all night if she can manage to stay up all day without napping at home. For now, she waits for Donna while looking over a menu.

Next week's non-pizza special appears to be hummus. She is unsure of what that actually is.

It's a cold day to be on the beach, which is why Todd's wearing his brand new hoodie for his trip out there.

Why Todd's got his head between his knees and his hand cupped in front of his mouth as he tries not to bleed on his brand new hoodie with a brand new tear where the right sleeve is attached is a longer story.

It was all basically a series of accidents and reasonable responses. He didn't mean to trip over that guy's boom box, and he can get why that pissed him off. He'd probably have been upset too. It was pretty fair that the guy pushed him, and that his friends backed him up, because that's what friends are for. Of course he grabbed his wrist when Todd tried to squirm free, and he did seem pretty surprised when Todd tripped again and hit that log headfirst. And really, Todd can't blame them for leaving while he was blacked out for a minute there. He's not their problem.

He's just not sure how he's going to explain getting his hoodie wrecked the very first day he wore it. That fucking sucks.

As promised, fifteen minutes after she leaves the house, Claire is waiting on the edge of one of the docks, watching the water. It should creep her out a little, since it's relatively dark out despite not being particularly late, and she can't see what's down there. It's a bit chilly, too, but she's got a hooded sweatshirt on...and her usual short denim skirt, but never mind, she's 17 and doesn't have to adhere to practicality all the time.

She's been wondering what's got Asamar so spooked, or at least knocked off-balance. As far as she knows, he's on his own out here, which would scare the hell out of her, but maybe he works differently. Claire's just incapable of being without family for long periods of time.

If she were a smoker, she'd be having a cigarette right now. But she's not, at all, so instead she's chewing on her bottom lip and debating sitting down so she can toe the water.

So rings the final bell of the day at Vinalhaven High. Of the week, even. Upon hearing this sound, most students tend to want to get the hell away from the school as soon as they can; few things are as satisfying to these kids as dashing down those steps to freedom. Our friend Theodore is no exception, but in this case, he is withdrawing only to whatever distance is legally required to be allowed to light a cigarette.
Since he arrived on this godforsaken island, he's made a point of keeping to himself, mostly—it's very easy to be elusive when nobody's really looking for you—but today, he finds himself in the mood for some unobtrusive people-watching. Maybe he'll see someone interesting. Maybe not. We'll see.

Either way, there's some guy in a worn jacket and a thrift store hat loitering casually nearby. He's not looking for eye contact, but he's not afraid to make it, either. And he's not smiling, exactly, but there are no prickly vibes over here. Just another new kid. A kid who, to those heavily invested in gossip, may be rumoured as some sort of delinquent. How mysterious! Mysterious, yet approachable! What intriguing faces shall he spy among the masses?

It's Friday, folks. As much as education is surely vitally important to every teenager in Vinalhaven, the school week is coming to a close and two whole days of play are just beginning.

Since arriving on the island, Alex has unpacked, settled in, terrorized his house-mate, walked out the town, even started categorizing its residents. Right now, he's out in search of Vinalhaven's nightlife. He hasn't found much. A dance club would be ideal, or even a hole-in-the-wall bar that doesn't card... but no. All he's found is a Pizza Pit. A Pizza Pit where they don't serve anything more gourmet than cheese bread and the sodas aren't even Italian. Ugh.

But, revulsion aside, there he is, in his faux-ratty t-shirt-and-jeans finest (today's bandana is green and tied around his left leg). He plants his skinny tight-jeaned ass on a bar stool at the counter and orders, cherry coke and spicy fries. Course one of many bound for the black abyss of the boy's stomach. Now he just needs somebody to bother!

English has proceeded better than usual this year- students will notice that Mr. Parkman is working a lot more closely one on one than he did before, and he wasn't exactly distant last year, either.

Today, he has an assignment for every grade level he teaches. Why? Because it seemed like fun, that's why.

"Okay, guys," he begins, "New assignment time- I'm sure you're all 'totally ripped' about it." Pause for awkward laughter/eye rolling. "We're doing collages- I assume you all know what a collage is- on poster sized paper. It doesn't have to be any theme in particular, but it has to cover all of your paper and please, no nudity, drugs, or exceptionally gory images, all right? This is for your own benefit, by the way, because once you hand them in? I'm putting them up in the hallway with your names underneath them until I get bored of looking at them." He grins and leans back against his desk. "Also, you'll hand in a five hundred word explanation of your collage- why you choose the images you did, what it means to you, that kind of thing. As long as it shows insight, I don't care about it fitting any kind of structure."

"If you have any questions, I can't hear you." He's joking. Really. Ask questions.

So incredibly excited that she gets to wear her cheerleading uniform for the first time -- and for the whole school day no less -- Ellie practically bounces into the lunchroom today! Settling down at the usual table by the window that she and Anne often like to sit, she unpacks her lunch. And since there's an actual game tonight, there's lots of extra protein and carbs for lunch today. It's going to be quite the challenge to make it through this afternoon without bouncing out of her seat from the nautural and supplemented sugar high she's going to have.

If you stop and say hi, she won't bite but you might be assaulted with profuse smiling and squeeing!

It is Tuesday, and Principal Sumner is wearing a skirt. Now, were she, say, Ms Ruiz...that wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. (Ms Ruiz wears corsets to teach in, come on.) However, this is Elizabeth Sumner, and she doesn't, on a regular basis, do this thing. (Skirts. Not corsets. Although she doesn't do that regularly either.) She wears trousers! Pant-suits! Not...pleated skirt things that she doesn't even remember buying.

The reason for this, sirs and madams, is threefold: the only clean suit pants she had left, she left on the ironing table overnight. Sedge took a liking to them, and so did Vlad...and then what was left of them, Cat slept on.

In short: do not leave your clothes where the household pets will get their teeth into them.

Elizabeth is on her way to her office (in anticipation of making some non-urgent phone calls). That was really all this post needed to say, but then, that wouldn't have been as much fun.

When all the students are settled into their seats and ready to begin, Susan hands out project sheets for their first history assignment. It's a rather generous option, actually, and will let them choose between writing an essay or building a model of a funerary monument of their choice from either Egypt or Mesopotamia. For extra credit, they do both options, and in turn she'll drop their lowest quiz grade.

"Okay class, these sheets detail the projects you can choose from for our Ancient History segment. These are due next Monday, on the twenty-fourth, and if you choose the extra credit option, that's due the same day as well." She walks by each row of desks to make sure that everyone's gotten a copy.

"If you opt to make the model, I'd suggest not using sugar cubes unless you'd like to invite an infestation of ants into your house. Lego pieces, cardboard, foamboard, styrofoam -- those should all work well for this. Make sure that the models are to scale, and that you have labels or some sort of key worked out for all the features of the monument." Scanning the room, she hopes that this isn't too onerous of an assignment.

"Any questions?"

School. New school, even. And he has to remember so much just to make this one day work. Simon stands at his locker, puffing fog onto the lenses of his glasses to clean them. A just-in-case measure. If this fails, he can always just be himself for the school year instead of some cranky emo kid.

A hand smooths down his short dyed hair, trying to get his bangs to meet just a little to the side, like he likes it. Of course, being the first day back to school, it goes anywhere but where he wants it to. A small bit even sticks up in the back. Maybe he should have put effort into combing it this morning. Right. Effort.

So, CuteGirl (better known as Claire) is supposed to meet up with him to give him a tour. He needs to figure out good exits and weak entry points should anything go down. Paranoid. Always so paranoid. At least he's relaxed about it. Decked out in his Civil War jacket, the boy picks off some of the bits of grass and hay left over from his hike through the farm lands a week prior. Which leads him to look down at his very battered marauder boots. ... >:( "I need new boots..."

It's been a while since Nami's taken a breath and just...just sat down somewhere and relaxed. Between trying to keep track of what's going on back in New York (something she's almost ready to give up as a lost cause), and trying to stay on top of studies that don't need to be as intense as she's making them, she hasn't found the time to remember that she's nineteen years old and definitely not some kind of super person, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and hand in all over her assignments three weeks early.

She hasn't really been sociable, with the few people she's managed to meet so far...but with her personal research meeting dead end after dead end, she's been thinking about asking Wanda if she wants to buy a bottle of something they're too young to be drinking and have a girl's night.

She's never actually had one of those, but observation of her mother and sisters suggests alcohol is an important part of it. Including Pepik in the equation and she should probably build up her nail polish collection again.

It's just an idle thought, at the moment. She's taking a break near the library, with a coffee-to-go and a newspaper. This dead and/or mutated lobster crap is bizarre. (And yet, 100% more interesting than listening to Gilly and Sophia debate whether or not Paris Hilton is ready to be a mother. Nami considers briefly that there should be laws in place to prevent that happening, anyway.)

See the story here

It's been almost three months since The Accident. He thinks. Sometimes he loses track of time and it goes off to do stuff without him and he finds it again covered in the craziest guck.

He keeps his garbage bag of clothes in his lap as the ferry docks, and hasn't taken his backpack off since he woke up. He's not sure he'll be able to replace anything. He doesn't know the people he's going to see and he just hopes they won't be too horrible at first. Sometimes he's kind of lucky. He's not sure how the ferry works and just hopes it doesn't hit anything because none of these people deserve to drown or fall in oil fires or get dismembered in the wreckage-

He decides he doesn't want to think about crashes and gets up when the speakers tell him too, disembarking into the Maine sea air his t-shirt is not doing much to block. He shivers, feeling the wind snag at the fresh hole in his jeans. He tripped and cut open his knee on a table, but his knee with probably get better on its own. Unless it gets infected and he dies. He hopes the foster person finds him soon. He doesn't want to be a gross corpse on the dock or anything.