thirty-one detention slips

[delincuente]

[Enjoy a nice splatter of spray paint splatter across your journals on this fine morning, Paradisa. Alex has been up all night decorating her bedroom walls - a big mural of the NYC skyline, just like the smaller version she gave to Kurt for Christmas. She doesn't know quite what possessed her to re-do it right now, but in the going-on-two years she's been in Paradisa, she's never missed her home more.

She hopes that Kurt is safe back there right now. Peeta, too, in his own hometown. After all, it's Paradisa. Who knows if it sticks to its word and actually sends everyone back where they came from.

A bit muffled by the her face mask - ]

Stupid how it works. I mean, you sit in this dump for two years, never really watching a friend go home. Then, all of the sudden, half of them just up and get kicked out at the same time. It's, like, irony or something.

[It would be safe to infer from this bit of dialogue that Alex doesn't actually know the definition of "irony".]

... Has anyone ever tried setting the castle on fire? I could probably go for that right now.

((ooc: dated to about 6:00 AM on Sunday))

Comments

[hard_talker]

[Mark sounds pretty groggy, but - well, it's not like he's gonna sleep well after running for his life from a Jabberwock]

We set a model of it on fire a few months ago. I wasn't sure if wishing up that much lighter fluid constituted asking for a weapon.

[he sighs]

Who's gone?

[delincuente]

You guys use it all up?

[She gives a bitter laugh, but there's no heart in it. She's been so lucky, not having to go through this. Failing to make friends here had its advantages.]

Kurt. And Peeta, awhile back, but I guess it's just kind of clicking.

[hard_talker]

No, we could totally get more. Why, you wanna torch somethin'? Might make you feel better.

... Damn. They were both decent guys, too. Sounded like they had rough shit to go home to, on top of it.

[delincuente]

I don't know, that would probably be pretty stupid. Do castles even burn, anyway? I mean, they're made of like rock or something.

... Yeah, we'd probably get blown up or something in that freaky world Peeta got tossed back to.

[hard_talker]

[he's quiet for a second, thinking. she might still need to blow off some steam, or at least take her mind off of it. he knows that's what he'd want, anyway]

What about bowling?

[delincuente]

What about it?

[It takes her a moment to see where he's even going with that. Then, ]

Ah. I don't know, maybe it'd help.

[hard_talker]

C'mon, throw around some big black balls, knock a bunch of little sticks over, wear bad shoes and eat greasy cheap cheese fries. It's the best thing for a shitty day. We should totally do it. ... Even if I'm not sure if the lanes in town sell the greasy cheap fries. We might have to wish for those before we leave.

[delincuente]

Sounds dreamy. And we would totally have to - greasy food is like the best part of bowling.

[hard_talker]

Greasy food, stupid shoes, and oldies music, definitely. Whaddaya say, sound like a plan?

[delincuente]

That sounds like a complete vacation.