fandomhighdorms | Farewell Slumber Party, 6th Floor, Wednesday Night

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Farewell Slumber Party, 6th Floor, Wednesday Night

By now, Karla was used to throwing parties at school. The set-up was easy enough: lots of food, lots of drinks, lots of games and activities, lots of space. There were some streamers and balloons up, mostly because Karla was trying to remind everyone (or, at least, herself) that this was supposed to be a happy occasion.

Really. It was. At least, that's what everyone kept telling her.

The important thing to keep in mind was that there would (probably) be no repeat of her last sixth floor party ~~sadly~~. She had gone the safe an glitter-free route this time. Clad in her new pajamas, Karla waited for her guests to arrive.

[Yay for slumber parties. For girls only (and our honorary girl for the evening), up early for great SP justice. ~~Please hold for~~ OCD up!]

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Well, she was going to get Karla instead. Oops!

"Kiss ki--oh, it's you." Be more gracious, Karla. "Hi."

Slightly better.

Well then. Unlike certain people, Rilla could be gracious when the occasion called for it.

"Oh, it is so lovely to see you again," she said far too enthusiastically. "It's been ages."

Or fake! Honestly, it sounded fake from over here.

"Oh, is that how it's done in your part of the world?" Karla asked, smirking a bit. "Fine."

Then she put on a bright grin and clasped her hand over her chest. "Rilla, darling, it has, hasn't it? I was just saying to Sookie the other day how long it had been since I saw you last! But thank you so much for coming, I'm just so excited to see you!"

Rilla arched up her eyebrows. "Well, a gathering just isn't the same without me, I've been told," she replied. "Thank you so much for the invitation."

Or the poster on the wall. Whichever.

"Oh, I can certainly agree with that," Karla said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Those gatherings would be fun. "I swear by the Darkness, I could feel the difference when you came in."

There would be another round of prayers directed upwards for Poor Karla's Lost Soul.

"I'm sure you could," Rilla replied politely instead.

Just wait till Rilla found out who she was dating. Let her figure out how that one worked.

"It's true," Karla said, nodding. "Cute nightgown."

Karla had one like it in her dresser, but she wasn't about to admit that.

"Thank you," Rilla said, beaming. "My mother crocheted the lace."

Karla peered more closely at it. "She has a dainty hand," she admitted. "Do you crochet?"

That, like so many other things, was high on Karla's, list of 'Feminine Skills I Lack.'

"I haven't the patience," Rilla replied. "I am only just learning to appreciate knitting."

"I can sew a bit, but only because I'm used to stitching up people," Karla said nodding. "Knitting still eludes me."

"Well, I taught a boy yesterday, so you can't be that hopeless," Rilla said.

Oh, Rilla. Oh young, naive Rilla.

"What does him being a male have to do with his ability to knit?" Karla asked. "Or, more specifically, my ability to knit?"

"Well if even a boy can learn, being predisposed to nothing remotely resembling handiwork like that, you can't be that hopeless," Rilla declared.

"Males aren't genetically, predisposed to being incapable of handiwork," Karla protested. "Lord Aldric is an amazing tailor! And Lord Bernard is a very fine jeweler!"

Rilla sniffed. "They don't make lace, do they?"

Karla frowned. "I have no idea," she admitted. "I suppose I could find out."

In her mind, lace was an intrinsic type of fabric, like silk or wool or something. The idea that it came from somewhere was...almost boggling.

"Can you make lace?"

Rilla could barely make a scarf, and fibbing, however tempting at this moment, was just not something she could bring herself to do.

"No," she admitted. "But Susan can."

"What happens if you find a male who can?" Karla asked.

She was already wondering if she could find one who could, just to see Rilla's head explode.

This was, of course, very different than her beliefs about how males and females were intrinsically different. That was backed up by Craft.

Rilla wrinkled up his nose. "People would talk like they do about Norman Douglas," she declared.

"Does Norman Douglas make lace?" Karla asked, almost fascinated. An entire town of Rillas. It was like a horror-story come to life.

Maybe she'd tell Ben it one day.

Rilla nodded. "It's just not natural," she hissed. "He also picks fights with ministers and never goes to church."

Karla thought about pointing out how also never went to church, and then realized she wouldn't be making Norman Douglas's life any easier if she did.

"What's a minister?" she asked instead.

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Farewell Slumber Party, 6th Floor, Wednesday Night

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