fandomhigh | Detention - 10/4

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detention

Detention - 10/4 - Saturday morning

On the door, then names were written.

Amber Atkins
Myn Donos
Claire Fisher
Peyton Sawyer
John Sheppard
Cal Stephanides
Eric van der Woodsen

Abby Irene had been working most of the evening in the Danger Shop and so her hair was a little bit out of sorts as the students walked in. Smiling, she straightened it with her hand before looking over the assembled.

"It seems that you young ladies and gentleman have proven to be unable to conduct yourselves properly in an academic setting. Thankfully, we are not living in my day and age and have been provided this lovely educational tool with which to perhaps correct as opposed to simply punishing such behavior."

"You will be attending a small party from my own world and it will be your duty to act as fits the circumstances."

[ocd ~~coming~~ up!] [~~have to run to the store; back in a bit!~~back!]

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Provided was quite a quantity of period (http://www.costumes.org/history/100pages/1898cuttersguide1c.htm) appropriate (http://www.marquise.de/en/1800/pics/1800h.shtml) clothing.

Suit up, ladies and gents.

Despite not having earned detention, so far John could deal with this. At least this professor wasn't making him wear leather. Yet.

Peyton rolled her eyes but put on the ball dress (http://www.marquise.de/en/1800/pics/1896_1.shtml) with the dark sleeves and bodice, figuring that was the best of a bad bunch.

Eric had actually worn clothing from this period before, for a themed party. The Upper East Side had a lot of themed parties.

Thus, it was without much difficulty that he suited up in an appropriate outfit.

See, now this? Cal could get into. He always felt he looked better all polished up and these period clothes were just...divine. That was the only word he could think to describe them as he straightened his jacket, tightened his tie.

Amber didn't mind the period clothing at all and felt she might even look a little pretty in them.

Cal casually sauntered up to Amber at the party, sipping his drink importantly. "So," he said with the suave voice that the period clothing had inspired in him, "come here often?"

Amber glanced over, fluttered her lashes ever so coyly and flashed him a quick grin that matched, before she allowed her gaze to sweep over him. "Do you?" she asked instead.

To that, Cal gave quite possibly the most affected, high society, ne'er do well, "I asked you first."

Arching a seemingly dignified brow, Amber's chin rose a notch. "Then no, I don't." Snapping open the fan that hung from a silken ribbon around her wrist, she raised it, peering over the bone colored tips at him.

Cal couldn't help an easy, crooked grin at that. "That would make two of us, then."

"How lucky for you," she smirked behind the painted fan. "That I am here tonight."

"Extremely lucky," Cal agreed with a firm nod, followed by a lifting of his chin. "What fortunate luck, indeed, that our paths should cross on this most fateful of mornings!"

Amber lowered her lashes, giggled as she snapped the fan closed and let it dangle once again at her wrist. "Fateful? Why ever would you think such?"

"Well, you know," Cal shrugged. "Two souls such as ourselves, winding up at this shindig on the same night, when other nights we would have not. Surely there must be some other hand at work here beyond our own corporeal ones."

"Perhaps not fateful but more like destiny," she practically whispered, leaning towards him very slightly.

Cal turned his head slightly, glancing over toward Amber with a bit of a grin, meeting his eyes with hers. "Serendipity?" he asked, quietly, and quirking a brow.

"Why not?" she asked and stepped forward, closer. "There is nothing ever wrong with a little slice of perfect luck."

"Indubitably," Cal agreed, using quite possibly his new favorite word, inspired by the setting, the costumes, the whole pomp and circumstance of everything around him. "If," he continued, "there is to be dancing later, maybe that slice of perfect luck would extend itself a bit further."

A surprised blush stained her cheeks, and Amber lowered her lashes, peeking over at him through their length. "Were there a gentleman so kind to offer his hand, I might find myself completely enraptured and suggest not one, but two dances at least."

"Two!" Cal's eyebrows shot up and he fought against wanting to laugh. "Methinks the lady doth expect quite a lot out of her luck!"

"Hah!" she laughed, pointing her finger at him no matter how unladylike the gesture was given the explained period and the clothes. "Methinks if the gent were a gent at all, he would do everything in his immediate power to make sure the lady's luck never runs out!"

"If that were the case," Cal said, giving Amber's finger a look and looking truly offended by this little lady's crass behavior, "I think that it's the gent's luck that the gent is counting on, thus making him no gent at all."

Claire rolled her eyes until they about fell out of her head, but put on the simplest dress she could find, in light grey and cadet blue.

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