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Detention, Saturday

"Hey," Mitchell called, once the ~~handwavey~~ detention announcement had gone out and everyone had had time to gather up by the Danger Shop. "I'm Mitchell. Some of you might've met me." He grinned. "You're here because for whatever reason, the school has chosen to recognise your trespasses. That doesn't mean it has to be horrible, just unpleasant."

Another slight grin, with only a hint of apology.

"So today, we're going to be preparing for a tea party," he continued, "Although I'd like it if you'd all go light on the tea. I'm more of a coffee person."

He shouldn't be allowed free range of children.

"Just enter through there and get your finest," he said, waving at the doorway, "And I'll see you on the other end."

~~Liir Thropp~~
~~Arthur Pendragon~~
~~Dinah Lance~~
~~Jack Priest~~
~~Effy Stonem~~
~~Kate Gregson~~
Francine Peters
~~Jonothon Starsmore~~
Azula

[[ ~~wait for the~~ ocd up ]]

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"Professor Bond."

Lightly. Lightly.

"So Dinah and I are now facing detention."

"Dinah too? Ugh. Sorry." Yeah, the notyourfaultreally wasn't all that successful. Though at least she managed to send it mostly in the direction it belonged; a year ago she'd have been falling all over herself to apologize. "It's kind of sad to prefer getting used by Chuck Bass, but at least he was just being a thoughtless dick, not a mean one."

"It was in the rules," said Arthur, with barely restrained irritation (restrained because he was trying to stick to the law, thank you). "Why are you here?"

"They didn't say." Oh Dinah, if only you'd laughed at her when she'd done this, she wouldn't be repeating it, and everyone would be spared the ridiculousness. "But I think they finally got me for the B-R-O-W-N-I-E-S.."

Arthur's brow furled up in confusion.

"The what?"

Sigh. "The. You know." Slightly louder, but still trying for sotto voce. If she knew what that meant. "The brownies."

"That was hardly your fault," Arthur pointed out, rationally. "Surely that can't be the reason."

"I didn't do anything else that I can think of." Francine frowned, then shrugged. "And considering they could like...arrest me or kick me out of school for that, I'm not about to argue with detention."

"If it was the brownies, Chuck would be in here with us," Arthur assured her, letting the last point pass him over. "But I don't see what this is all about."

He had the jacket. With the incredibly aristocratic collar.

"Detention? Or why we're supposed to be dressing up for it?" Because Francine would be a font of knowledge on that subject. "I dunno. I've never been before. People say they can get weird, though."

"The latter," Arthur said, firmly. "I think my current garments will suffice." Beat. "How weird."

"When Marshall ran it they had a slumber party."

Just...ignore the slightly wistful tone there indicating she kind of wished she'd got unfairly assigned to that detention.

"...A what?"

Chances towards Arthur enjoying that detention: zero to none.

Considering Chuck Bass was there? Did probabilities come in negative numbers?

"A slumber party? Like, um. A sleepover. With pajamas and --" Hair-braiding. Nail polishing. No, she wasn't mentioning either of those. "Stuff."

"Well, that sounds dull as the blazes," Arthur said, glancing at her.

"It's usually a girl thing," Francine said oh so helpfully for feminism through the ages. "I don't know what the point of making into a detention was, other than Marshall's kind of..."

How to put that politely. How.

"Really laid back?"

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Detention, Saturday

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