[what's up! lucretia is hanging out around the dorm buildings, keeping an eye on them; her notebook is with her, but she doesn't have it open at the moment.
someone else coming by grabs her attention, though, and she glances up to beau.]
beau doesn't seem to be very interested in the inside of winter dorm. it looks kind of like a tea parlor, with a chandelier in the middle of the room. there's a piano, and it's gently playing classical music. beau gestures.]
So I've heard. No one has sounded particularly concerned about it, so I'm assuming that none of you died.
[is winter, like, OKAY. are they okay.
she pauses a moment to take in the room, studying it. rich people shit for sure, but she doesn't particularly mind it, herself; she's just noting a few things down, quickly.]
[she only has one notebook unfortunately, so not this time. gotta get somebody to give her one they're not using first... but she's just taking a few notes on the layout of the place, the decor, the amenities, and doesn't try to block beau from seeing it. she can look.]
So far, it seems like the differences are mostly aesthetic.
Seems that way, yeah? I'm guessing the aesthetics match the dorm heads too, judging by the flavor of the letters. Winter's head seems like a real high class sort of person.
You too, huh. [huff.] Not a fucking great time for school, I'll tell you that much. Was yours like, world-ending important? The business they stole you from.
... I asked the dorm heads if time moves while we're gone and they said no, if that helps. I know we can't really trust the shit that comes out of their mouth just yet, but.
There's no choice but to trust it. If they aren't telling the truth about that, then it was probably too late to make it back... somewhere around yesterday.
[...there's no ruling out something impossible happening. they're very good at pulling off things no one would ever expect to work. but given the odds at the point she left-
she's not going to stop being worried until she gets back.]
[that gets her a sympathetic look-- honestly, it sounds like a lot of them are in similar positions.]
Well, if you wouldn't mind giving me a hand in doing the same-- I think we all want to get out of here, and I don't think any one of you should be taking that on alone.
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w0, saturday
someone else coming by grabs her attention, though, and she glances up to beau.]
-do you have a few minutes?
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... Who, me?
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[she gestures to the winter dorm, which they are conveniently closest to.]
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Yep. Why?
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[her fingertips tap the cover of her notebook, briefly.]
Of course, I'm not opposed to giving you access to my building as well, if you'd like to investigate it.
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Which one is yours? C'mon, I can give you a look. Might as well get more eyes on the place.
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[there might have been some commotion in the other suite, but it didn't seem too bad.
she'll follow along, though, let's get a look at this last dorm hell yeah.]
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[winter is full of some very fun people.
beau doesn't seem to be very interested in the inside of winter dorm. it looks kind of like a tea parlor, with a chandelier in the middle of the room. there's a piano, and it's gently playing classical music. beau gestures.]
Just rich people shit.
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[is winter, like, OKAY. are they okay.
she pauses a moment to take in the room, studying it. rich people shit for sure, but she doesn't particularly mind it, herself; she's just noting a few things down, quickly.]
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Nah, all of us survived. [is she writing with both hands,
no, beau is nosy and trying to see what she's writing.]
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So far, it seems like the differences are mostly aesthetic.
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Seems that way, yeah? I'm guessing the aesthetics match the dorm heads too, judging by the flavor of the letters. Winter's head seems like a real high class sort of person.
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This is, probably, the most poorly-timed kidnapping they could have managed.
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[thanks she Hates it.]
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Wait, really? I was kidding. Fuck.
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[by this point- well. that could all be past tense by the time she gets back.]
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[...there's no ruling out something impossible happening. they're very good at pulling off things no one would ever expect to work. but given the odds at the point she left-
she's not going to stop being worried until she gets back.]
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... Yeah. Yeah, same. [she scrubs at her arm, suddenly cold.] I'm gonna figure it out. I'm good at this sort of shit, unraveling things? I got it.
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[that gets her a sympathetic look-- honestly, it sounds like a lot of them are in similar positions.]
Well, if you wouldn't mind giving me a hand in doing the same-- I think we all want to get out of here, and I don't think any one of you should be taking that on alone.
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