fandomhighdorms | Francine's Birthday Party, Sixth Floor Common Room, Thursday Late Afternoon/Evening

Katchoo had felt justified in blowing most of her last paycheck on food for this party, because this was a girl who would eat half-raw macaroni and cheese if left to her own devices and you really didn't want her cooking. It helped to have a radio cohost who ran the diner ~~and could be shamelessly self-modded~~ and had the weirdest mushy soft spot for her and Francine, so she'd been able to call in favors from Lacey, who'd supplied trays of sandwiches, salads, a couple of fancy-looking pasta dishes, and a large chocolate and raspberry mousse cake.

She'd thought setting up for the party would be a lot harder, but . . . eh, this wasn't the kind of party that you had just to see how many high-profile politicians you could get blackmail material on in one night. Simple enough. And as far as Katchoo was concerned, a hell of a lot more important.

The music for the night was a combination of Griffin Silver and the Beatles, there was extra room on the tables for food in case anyone else felt like bringing stuff, Clocky made occasional tweeting circuits of the room, and the ball pit was there for you if you needed it.

And Katchoo was even around, her usual diffident expression dialed down half a notch. The things we do for love, man.

. . . and then a bed of plastic squirt flowers sprang up in one corner of the room near the ballpit. Sigh. Happy frikkin' April Fool's.

[OOC: Up eeeeeeeeearly for SP, ~~with the caveat that thatsamilkshake will be AFK until evening EST~~ and can has a birthday girl! ~~Wait for the OCD or I'mma sic Clocky on you~~ OCD is up, party is open, huzzah and go forth and all that jazz.]

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"Your birthday celebration is very lively," Azula said in greeting.

Francine wasn't entirely sure what to make of that or how to answer it. "I'm surprised so many people showed up," she settled on, which was quite true.

"Celebrations usually attract a high volume of people," she said. Case in point, one Fire Nation princess. "You must be very well liked."

Believe it or not, when it comes to politics she's very savvy... being a normal girl in a party? Not so much.

Francine had plenty of experience being a normal girl. A popular one? Not so much. "I guess? I hope so, anyway. Or maybe people just like my cookies. I can live with that too."

"I haven't tried your cookies but I shall take your word on it," then fell silent. Azula waved a hand to her hair, "Your hair color is very different, it reminds me of snow in the North Pole."

This would probably the best time to stop rambling and just greet the celebrant...

Francine reached up to touch the only part of her hair that could possibly apply to. "Thank you. I think. It just sort of happened; I didn't do it on purpose."

"It suits you well... because its..." she searched for a word. "Different. Although a difference like that will not help if you're trying to infiltrate into an enemy stronghold."

Azula shuffled then cleared her throat. "Well, then, Happy Birthday."

"Er. Thanks for the advice!" She supposed it could come in handy someday, when she was trying to infiltrate an enemy stronghold on the twelfth of Never.

Francine's Birthday Party, Sixth Floor Common Room, Thursday Late Afternoon/Evening

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