| Title: Just asking for some little R&R Time: Wednesday, March 17, 2004 The Thespians: Serah Tolwyn and Pascal Curio Location: Girls' Dormitories - Sunrise Room Notes: Why is Pascal in such a good mood you ask? Why is everyone's favorite anti-heroine not hexing elephant ears? Refer to the "Some people are so ungrateful" log. This scene took place just IC and OOC minutes after that one. |
| +---[ Girls' Dormitories - Sunrise Room ]-------------------------------------+ | | | The theme of this pleasantly spacious room is obviously 'morning', | | complimented by the paint and the never-ending pot of tea and plate of | | biscuits (along with butter and jam) stationed conveniently on a small | | table-cart in the corner. Comfortable cushioned chairs and couches, along | | with a few low, highly polished maple coffee tables and potted plants are | | situated around the room on the hardwood floor, perfect for students who | | wish to sit and relax. The southern and eastern walls are made of enormous | | windows that let in breathtaking sunrises during mornings, and plenty of | | light the rest of the day. A detailed mural of a beautiful sunrise coming | | up behind dark mountains is painted around the remaining walls for those | | who'd missed the authentic one, almost realistic enough to be believed. | | | +-----------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |
| Tea. Tea and /biscuits/, even. Nearly enough to make up for the History homework, and the not-having-seen-And-at-all-today. Serah sighs, and the short, random strokes of her pen continue to blacken the corner of her parchment. Lunacy, sheer lunacy. |
| Pascal Curio, has, believe it or not, had a pretty good day altogether. Never mind that she's going to wake up tomorrow with a rather nasty bruise on her left arm, she's practically bouncing, a whistle singing from her lips, into the room, with a half eaten sandwich in her right hand. Who has she killed now? |
| And, will Serah be the next victim? The ink-soaked parchment gives way under a particularly malicious jab, and she eeps as a blot of black spills onto the denim leg of her jeans. Further annoyance. She mutters something dissatisfied and ineffective at it, and looks up to see what Mysterious Whistling Girl's opinion of the whole show is. |
| By this time, Pascal has sprawled herself onto a couch near to the eastern windows. Yes, she's taking up the whole couch, and even her dirty cowboy boots have a seat just for themselves. Lazily, she uses her wand and her expertise of her earlier year charms to summon a cup of tea for herself. She rudely crams the sandwich into her mouth and fights a snort as she watches Serah's clumsiness. Swallow. "Graceful, aren't we?" She drawls, her voice sweet and sarcastic. |
| Serah Tolwyn has never quite gotten the hang of the ironic tone of voice, so "Oh, yes indeed," sounds entirely an innocent agreement. "Or, one of us, anyways," is more difficult to interpret, with her shy not quite smile, still slightly chagrinned at the ink stain. |
| Pascal Curio props one of her mud stained boots on the couch, and in doing so, she purposefully gets mud and dirt stained all on that arm of the couch. She looks over at Serah and takes another rather large bite of her sandwich, and then a small sip of her tea. This time she doesn't even give the girl the courtesy of a empty mouth before she speaks. "I /am/ the picture of elegance, my dear. You, on the other hand, had better get yourself into a plastic bubble before you get your entire person... dirty." She drags out that last word with a sneer. |
| Ink stain, roughly one inch square. Chair arm and shoe soles, roughly one foot square. You make the call, ladies and gentlemen. "Nice boots," Serah misdirects, folding carefully around its saturated corner the sheet of parchment she'd been mangling. |
| Pascal Curio pops the rest of her sandwich into her mouth and grins rather broadly at Serah. "Why, thank you?" She's all politeness right now, but we'll see how that works out. Another pause, and Pascal should probably try and make some small talk. "So, whatcha doing?" Her voice has taken on this unmistakably immature and nosy tone, and she sounds like she's about 7. |
| "'s a History paper. 'Invocation and Evocation'. 'pparently they gave up on those arts centuries ago." Serah refrains carefully from scribbling up the corners of the new page. Happily, nothing's due for a week; no need to fret over wasting this session. |
| "Wow. How totally..." she pauses and sticks her fist out, thumb down. "BORING." She smirks, and clearly Serah is in luck today, for Pascal seems to be in such a good mood that she's about delirious. "Whatever happened to learning about the Dark Wizards, and all of those epic wars? All the bloodshed, and all the forbidden curses?" She rolls her eyes and gestures vaguely towards the scribbled-upon parchment. "I say you revolt against this assignment." |
| "Evokers tended to be pretty dark, y'know. Lots of demon-summoning and black rituals and such." Serah risks defeat by admitting to having already studied, and, what's worse, become interested. "Anyways, what else am I supposed to be doing?" |
| "Lots of things. Go to the Dining Hall, have some soup." Pascal's green eyes glitter rather mysteriously as she says this. "I hear they've put something a little extra in there, to give it a kick worth /giggling/ at." She puts both of her hands behind her head and rests her head and hands on the clean arm of the couch. "Doesn't look like you're doing much anyway. I don't think scribbling qualifies as homework." |
| "Luckily, then, not due till next Monday. Plenty of time for scribbling." Her page is in fact now headed, 'Plenty of time for scribbling'. Teach her to write while she's talking. For her own future reference, Serah subtitles it 'Where HAS And gotten to?' as she meditates on the aforementioned humorous soup. Soup is no laughing matter. |
| "Right," Pascal quirks one eyebrow up at Serah, and then the other one soon follows. "You don't want to be doing homework, yet you'd rather be doing nothing else. Oh, excuse me. You'd rather be scribbling until Monday, when your homework is due." Not really quite sure what to make of this girl, but since there are free tea and biscuits here, she doesn't feel like moving. Plus, she's got the whole couch to herself. |
| Serah Tolwyn has the whole chair to herself. It's not like she's big enough to take proper advantage of a couch by herself anyways. "Plenty of stuff I'd rather be doing," she allows after a moment. "But it'll be a while before I can." |
| Pascal Curio is using one boot to scrape the dirt off of the other one, and by now the mud is dried and caked. A small collection of mud flakes starts to collect around that end of the couch where her feet are, and she looks up at Serah briefly, and then returns back to her shoe cleaning. "Plenty of stuff, you say," she sounds less than convinced. "What would you rather be doing that will take you a while before you can?" |
| "Well, once Andera shows up we can go eat dinner." As long as it doesn't include the soup. "And we can see if we can get my stupid walkman to work somewhere closer to my room than the lake." Serah holds up the inoperable device. |
| Pascal Curio nods, trying even harder to be interested now. "Right. Don't forget to have the soup. It's delish." Pascal seems to forget that the sounds of girls giggling uncontrollably all night long will drive her insane. She looks at the walkman with feigned interest. "Why don't you just use a charm on it?" |
| Serah Tolwyn shakes her head. "It's a charm that's stopping it. We think it's something to do with the batteries." She shrugs, anyways. "How about you, haven't got anyone else's time to occupy?" |
| "I like occupying yours," Pascal says a little too cheerfully, clapping her boots together one final time. "Do you have a problem with that?" That little mud flake pile is rather large. If she was feeling any less lazy, seeing as how she's sprawled all over the couch, she would have asked to look at the discman. And then probably have broken it. |
| How she would expect Serah to notice, one must wonder. "You would not /really/ be my first choice-- I'm sure you must be crushed-- but you do save me the trouble of occupying it myself." She smiles sunnily. "Why, if it wasn't for you I'd still be here scribbling." |
| "Well, thank heavens I've saved you from getting more ink all over your poor pants then," Pascal comments dryly, now sitting up from the couch. The comment about her not being the first choice is totally and completely ignored, but brownie points to Serah indeed. She pushes off of the couch, and starts to walk out of the room. "Have fun with that," she gestures vaguely again with a faint frown, "paper." As she walks past the dirty arm of the couch, she gives it a tap with her hand. No one could accuse Pascal Curio of being dirty all the time. The couch is as clean as before the older girl sat down in it. |
| Brownie points for Mysterious Whistling Girl, too, for cleaning up after herself. And remaining civil, if not entirely pleasant. Serah waves to her retreating form, cheerily, and underlines the 'where' on her page a few more times. |
| Back |
