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2nd Floor Common Room (Tuesday)

Elizabeth had added her poster next to Parker's.

It was her only poster at the moment. There was no point in plastering the school with them if she decided not to run in the end.

Vote Elizabeth Weir as Junior Student Council Representative

She headed back to the corner table where she had started her jigsaw puzzle last week.

She looked distracted, and occassionally glanced across at the poster. Why was she running? Was it because she felt that she should?

[[Come and help with the puzzle, or, if anyone wouldn't mind trying to talk her out of this emo funk she's got herself into, that would be very much appreciated!]]

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"But I'm really good at it."

"Sean, tell your daddy he has to expand his horizons," Parker said to the dog, then scowled at Angel. "Suck. It. Up. Not. Just. Blood."

Angel smirked, but only a little. "John's starting a frat. Doesn't that count?"

"Hmmm. No. You already live with the guy, and sitting around drinking beer and watching movies with ex-members of the Male Celine Dion Fan Club is no effort at all." Parker pointed at him. "I need you to support my campaign. If left to my own devices without you to stop me, certain information may oops! Slip to Callisto."

Angel rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Angelus. That was Angelus. We're surprised that all the political talent and scheming was in my soulless self?"

Parker cocked her head. "Okay, not *too* surprised. You could just stand there and let me tell you what to do. Your call." She smiled with poison-apple sweetness.

"Couldn't I just drink Holy Water again?"

Parker blinked. "Again?"

Oops. "Uh - for the first time?"

Parker gave him a deeply dubious look. "You're not getting all martyr-and-hellfire on me, are you? That doesn't play well with the underclassmen."

"Plus it messes up my jacket," Angel tried for a lame smile.

Parker nodded slowly, then narrowed her eyes. "Good to know you're not wimping out *this* early after getting your soul. If the rest of us have to deal with them, so do you. Got it?" She shook her head.

"Look, let me make more posters. C.J. said the new teacher for U.S. History and Government knows all about political campaigning. I'm going to hit him up for tips. Plus I think he's teaching a class on it. It won't be *that* difficult, with a paint-by-numbers plan right in front of us, right?"

Angel considered it. "This sounds a lot like I don't have to do any work."

[ooc: Leaving work soon, back later]

"And doesn't that make it all bearable?" Parker coaxed him.

Angel regarded her suspiciously. "Why do I feel that there's a worm in this apple?"

"Because you invented Goth, and have no concept of 'no strings'. Fine, be like that. Thwart me! Other people have thwarted me this week, and are they going to enjoy happy lives? NO." She glared at him, narrow-eyed, her voice full of mostly-fake menace. "You can join them."

Angel, as always, focused on the more important detail. "I'm not that old!"

Parker is starting to re-think this particular bit of torment, if only because Angel's being so dense. "Wings? Not the point. Two hundred and something else is way old for high school. If you're going to be here, you should contribute more than blood-sucker jokes."

"Do I have to go through with the whole thing? It's just one person per class in the end, right?"

"Three," she admitted. "But you could end up spending lots more time with Callisto. If you both get elected. You'd have a good excuse." Then she grinned, evilly. "Ask her about the new artwork on her ankle, next time you see her. And don't say I never did anything for you."

"Three? Oh you do hate me," Angel groaned. He then cheered up slightly. "Callisto got a tattoo?"

"A temporary one," Parker says, looking gleeful. "But it's *pretty*." She made another face at him. "And it's three people, and maybe two semesters, tops, and I don't hate you. I just enjoy tormenting you. Think of me as your penance. You are this much," she held her fingers up, very close together, "closer to being a real boy, because I make you suffer."

"If you wanted to see me in a blindfold and chains, Maureen, why didn't you just say so?"

Whizzzzzzz!

"Ew. And we both know you don't consider that suffering."

Angel ducked. He then batted his eyelashes at her. "You liiiiiike me."

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mparkerceo.livejournal.com - 2006-01-04 03:13 (UTC) - Expand

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