fandomhighdorms | First Floor Lobby, Saturday Morning/Afternoon

Petra, dressed in her beloved gold lamé jumpsuit, killer gold boots, and a sparkly blue cape¹ she'd whipped together on Bruce's suggestion (plus it made her outfit school colors!) came downstairs pretty early for a weekend to set up at a table in the lobby. And by 'set up' she meant 'drag a chair behind it and make sure there was an outlet so she could plug in her laptop to look at the Miss Universe national costumes, because it was truly the most wonderful time of the year, while she waited for someone to talk to her.' She taped a glittery, colorful sign to the front of the table reading, because she'd decided to just go with it:

SuperPetra!*
For Junior Student Council Representative
I'm Here For YOU!
Tell Me Your Concerns
*No actual superpowers.

She was READY.

"Wow. Miss Bahamas' wings are just like that one kid's...Oh Canada honey no." Wait until she got to Miss Tanzania...

¹Yes, it was costumey. She also thought it was fairly awesome.

((OOC: So very open, although I may be in and out for a bit. Petra is her normal self, as she already is a transgender former boy band member turned pageant queen whose plane crashed on a deserted island where a shady corporation tried to kill her.))

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Kenzi was plotting. Because that is what former Soviet Bloc refuges turned evil crimelords did. And so, it was time to meet the politicians. Ach, politics.

"Vhat are you looking at?" she asked, peering over Petra's shoulder, accent thick and unidentifiable. "Zat is sad. She issss not First Peoples! Insult! There vill be flipping-out on ze internet!"

"Uh, hey Kenzi," Petra said uncertainly. She was just going with the accent; for all she knew that was something Kenzi did from time to time. Accents were fun. "Yeah, it's pretty...yeah." And then she scrolled down to Miss Chile. "She did not go there!"

Kenzi's laugh was an evil laugh. "Ahahahahaaha! Minuz zeveral zillion for ze good taste! Also, ugh, vhat, zey could not afford skirt? Pathetic." She made a spitting sound without actually spitting and then ensconced herself next to Petra. "Zo. Tell me. Vhat vill Petra be doink on ze School Council? Hmm? Making plans yet?" Then she leaned over to look at the Miss World outfits. "More funny pageant, pleaz."

"Um, sure!" Petra said. "I want to promote community spirit and cohesiveness, and also disaster preparation. Oh. And sex ed, I was thinking we could have workshops? We could call them 'Sex Monkey.'" Petra really wanted to attend a workshop called Sex Monkey.

She scrolled down past Miss China, who looked great, and Miss Colombia, who looked like a Barbie, to..."Did a Croatian invent candy hearts?"

"Yes," Kenzi lied. "Because ve Croatians, ve own all ze candy." She snickered happily. "Ohh, yes. I am for ze workshop! Sex Monkey! Zere are boyz here, they need to know these things. They need the practice... Why iz Mizz Curacao a bird? Vhaaat?"

"I thought you were..." Actually Petra wasn't sure if she knew where Kenzi was from. "Never mind. I kind of like it, actually. She's fierce. And I think she's doing the "Single Ladies" dance." What wasn't to like about that?

That was okay, because Kenzi ~~and her mun~~ wasn't sure either. Eastern Europe was big! "Ahhh, to be like Beyonce." She sighed dramatically. "So, vill vorkshop haf hookers? I can find zome, yes?"

"Uh, no?" Petra said. "I don't think that will be...we're trying to teach people about safe sex."

"Hookers can have ze safe sex," Kenzi objected, looking miffed. "Iz legal in Canada! They are to be using the rubbers! Also, zafe words. No trauma! No drama!"

"No, I know!" Petra said quickly. "It's just that this is a high school! We're all underage!"

"I vas underage hooker." Maybe. Or maybe she was lying. "It vas sad. But I survive, yes? I thrive! I grow! I am now mafioso! Vhy you no want ozzer people to learn from me, hmmm?"

That accent might remind Petra of Momo B. ChaCha there, for no reason.1

1. Except that someone's heard the audiobook, and finds it randomly hilarious.

"That's...that's not, I'm not making any judgment calls, I just thought we should teach people about safe sex and STDs so we're not hipdeep in teen pregnancies and chlamydia," Petra said. "That's all."

"Hmmph. Boring." Kenzi sniffed. "More costumes, pliss? ... I could be Miss Latvia. Vhere iz Miz Latvia?"

"Oh, she's..." Petra scrolled down. Kosovo...Lebanon. "I don't think there is a Miss Latvia, Kenzi. Or a Miss Lithuania either, huh."

"Vhaaaat?" Kenzi leaned in, momentarily distracted by Miss Korea's hat (http://i52.tinypic.com/wtyn2x.jpg), and then furious. "No Latvia! No Lithuania! My sisters protest! We too deserve to be in high-priced exploitative Western-corrupt pageant! VHY THEY NO EXPLOIT US, HMM?"

"Nice cape, Petra," Bruce said as he wandered downstairs for another day of international business and spouse finding. "It really goes with the rest of the ensemble."

"Thanks, Bruce," Petra said. "I thought you would like it."

"Oh, I do," Bruce said. "Has it helped you pull in any extra votes yet?"

"So far I've just had Kenzi talking about hookers," Petra said with a little shrug.

"How did that come up? Don't tell me one of you is secretly one," Bruce said.

"She had some wacky idea about getting hookers to teach sex ed ~~because that's never been done before~~." She wasn't going to mention Kenzi's claim to have been an underage hooker, because she had no idea if it was true and it wasn't her business to tell even if it was.

"Who knows? It might be a worthwhile idea. I'm sure some people could have used some good sex advice from a hooker so long ago...." Bruce said, trailing off as he thought briefly of the poor child he and Quinn had back when they were young and married.

"But it's probably too late for them anyway."

First Floor Lobby, Saturday Morning/Afternoon

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