Francine Peters (
thatsamilkshake) wrote2009-09-01 10:09 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Room 505, Tuesday Evening
So hey, you know what's fun? An unplanned week or so of vacation with blood magic, plague and creepy crazy sorcerers, yay! And also no showers. And no phone reception, though that didn't stop Francine from running the battery down by trying.
Oh, no, wait, fun was something else. Which would be why when the group finally made it back from Firekeeper's world to the preserve, and from there to the dorms, Francine had just barely enough energy to shuffle down the hall to her room -- and just enough thought-moths caught in the cobwebs in her head that she waited a moment, leaning on the doorknob, before she went in.
[OOC: For That Girl. No, not you, Marlo Thomas.]
Oh, no, wait, fun was something else. Which would be why when the group finally made it back from Firekeeper's world to the preserve, and from there to the dorms, Francine had just barely enough energy to shuffle down the hall to her room -- and just enough thought-moths caught in the cobwebs in her head that she waited a moment, leaning on the doorknob, before she went in.
[OOC: For That Girl. No, not you, Marlo Thomas.]
no subject
That didn't mean her head didn't whip around toward the door the second she heard the latch.
"Francie?"
Look out, Francine, incoming tiny blonde issuey tacklehug!
no subject
"Chewie..." That might or might not have been coherent.
no subject
"Francie, where the hell have you been?" How much of that was actually discernible was anyone's guess; Katchoo's face tended to be obstructed in some way when there was Francine-hugging going on. "You look like hell -- what the hell happened?"
no subject
no subject
And now there'd be a tiny blonde trying to drag Francine toward her bed, completely unmindful of concerns such as possible contagion. "Sweetheart, no wonder you look like shit. We gotta get you to bed."
no subject
Some things change. Francine and unintentional innuendo? Not one of them.
no subject
"Anything you need, honey," she promised. "Sit down for a minute and I'll get your stuff together."
Dammit, this would involve letting go. She could do that for a minute, right? Right?
Wait for it. Wait for it.
. . .
No, really, Chewie, you could let go now.
no subject
Bed. Bed was good. For sitting.
And for not letting go. "I tried to call. Cell phone reception sucks where Blysse is from."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"Blind Seer and Blysse heard something and ran off to check on it, and then he came back by himself all beat up, and we followed him, and the woods here just sort of... turned into the woods there." It wasn't much of an explanation, but it was the best she had.
no subject
"Beat up? Geez, Francie, why do I get the feeling this wasn't just a random stroll through the trees until the plague hit?"
no subject
no subject
"Plant-monsters? Geez, Francie!" And now she'd just be checking Francine over for . . . plant-y bite marks.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
"I'm just glad you're okay," Katchoo said, holding the door open for her.
no subject
Francine Peters, future travel writer. Some stuff happened.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)