Thursday, October 18th, 2012

pulseof_life: (wish on a flower)
[personal profile] pulseof_life
It was both rather exciting and rather nerve-wracking at the same time to be the one in the lobby today. Yeul set up the sign and the ballot box for homecoming court (though she remained vaguely puzzled about the purpose of such a court) and prepared to be around for the day, except when she had to leave for a period that afternoon to attend Wild Roving.

Despite her nerves (what if she messed up somehow?) Yeul figured that, all things being the same, she should probably not be concerned and that it was all right if she just relaxed.

HOMECOMING 2012
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Yeul eyed the glitter on her hands with rueful amusement. It would probably be all over her hair and clothes by the end of the day. Ah well.
dollpocalypse: (neg: dumbest thing i've ever heard)
[personal profile] dollpocalypse
Well, around five on Thursday evening, Topher learned that Portalocity officially sucked harder than he had ever suspected, because they'd somehow managed to jostle his luggage on his return trip from Africa badly enough that his laptop screen was cracked.

He had other laptops, yeah, but this one was the fastest, so until he could replace it tomorrow, he grabbed an HDMI cable, hooked it up to display on the TV, and checked his email there. And then some forums. And then his Facebook and some tracked tags on Tumblr and... look, he had a lot of stuff going on, okay? He doubted anyone was going to say anything.

After a while, he began wondering whether there was anything else he was supposed to do tonight. There was some work for Peter he still had to do, of course, but that kind of thing probably merited more privacy than a common room TV screen. There was... oh, right, wasn't he supposed to talk to that Tomato girl?

Not Tomato. Another vegetable. Or maybe plant. Was Venus Fly Trap a name? No, wait, she wasn't a superhero, that didn't sound right.

But Topher was comfortable, and he didn't want to talk to Lettuce when he could just hang out on the couch here. Internet-stalking her was almost the same thing, right? Sure, it took a little more effort since he had to actually check the school database for a list of names first in order to find out what her actual name was (and Topher personally thought Tomato would've been a better choice, but hey, that was Olive's parents' fault), but before long he had a few searches going.

Hmm. There was a surprising amount of dirt on this girl, Topher had to say. Including something called freeolive.com, which brought him to a video.

"I really hope this isn't a creepy valkyrie thing," he said aloud, eyeing it dubiously before hitting play.

[[this common room brought to you by request of [livejournal.com profile] dirtiest_skank, of course. please beware spoilers for easy a within, but it is open!]]
[identity profile] dirtiest-skank.livejournal.com
So. She was really, obviously,stupid to think that things would be different here, right? Like...she could just have friends here, and be happy, and oh, god, last week she'd had a party and people had come and no one had made fun of her or paid her at all, and she had a homecoming date, and --

Well. Probably not, anymore. Olive was back to feeling just as ostracized as she had back in Ojai. And it wasn't even that she was embarrassed about what she'd done -- that was a little bit of it, sure. But the reason she was up here on the roof, crying, her knees tucked up to her chest -- and crap, now the cliches were following her, too -- was that she'd gotten used to things just being...normal here. And now the whole thing had followed her after all, and there was a common room of people she actually cared about laughing at her all trussed up in lingerie, who all knew about all of the lying.

So, yeah. Cliche or not, she would just sit here and feel sorry for herself, and then run back down to her room and pack her things before Karolina could notice she was gone. Or something. That didn't seem like the most intelligent course of action, but she couldn't think clearly at the moment.

[totally open, obviously.]

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