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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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"I think that settles the terms set for this detention," he decided, laughing a bit, and chewed on it. "Sit down and eat."

"Only I could end up baking stuff for a detention that I got for baking stuff," Francine murmured as she sat down and reached for a napkin so she didn't get powdered sugar all over the place.

"What are you in for?"

It was kind of the obvious question, on that one.

Logic, Francine, says that you should be able to say what you think you're in for because YOU ARE IN FOR IT.

This was, however, the same woman who spelled out the word in question twice already today, Just in case. Of something.

"Um. I'm not sure? But it might be about some browniesIbaked. Possibly."

"You made pot brownies?"

Mitchell almost sounded impressed, really.

Not that he had trouble with authority.

"Yes?" The tone - almost like Marshall's really - didn't quite cut through the flail. "Not on purpose!"

"Calm down."

That was a very... tiny... tone right there, and that was enough to cause him some concern. "Not on purpose?"

"The brownie part was on purpose. I like making brownies." Well, she had. "The other part was--" Sigh, but at least it was truthful. "Me being really, really gullible."

"I'm sure you're not that gullible," he said, putting down his mug. "I'd say there's a real bastard out there taking advantage."

Francine thought about it. For all of five seconds. "No, I'm that gullible." Okay, seven seconds. "Or at least I was. Maybe not anymore."

He smiled for a moment. It didn't reach his eyes. "Well, Francine," Mitchell replied, "I doubt you're in detention for being gullible. Sounds like you learned enough."

"More than enough." Francine reached for a cup of... anything to wash down lemon bars ~~and bitterness~~ with, really, but tea was nearest. "But if it's not that, then I dunno what I'm here for. Unless it's just the refreshments, but I'd have made those anyway, if somebody asked me to."

"You could just be here to keep us fed," Mitchell replied, ducking his head for a moment. "Which is fairly kind of the school, you'll have to give them that." He finished off his lemon bar with due gusto.

"Most people here are," Francine said, and perhaps she was still too generous with that assessment, but she wasn't going to let go of it yet. "I like it here most of the time."

He nodded, cracking a real smile. "So how are you liking detention so far?" he asked, "I think it's cosy." Pause. "The lowlife who got you isn't in here, right?"

Francine had to laugh, if a bit perplexedly, at cosy. "It's a little nicer than detention is supposed to be, I think." She tried to say it as kindly as possible, just in case he'd been trying really hard to be strict and utterly failed.

"And no, Ch--" Yeeah, no, she wasn't about to snitch on him. "He's not here."

Mitchell nodded, shrugging in an unabashedly ironic way. "I know what it's like," he said, conspiratorally, "Every generation has its bullies. They think they get away with things."

Francine shrugged too, in an unabashedly oblivious to irony way. "He's not a bully. He's just rich, hot, and charming."

"Oh," Mitchell said, in thorough understanding, "An overprivileged bully."

Francine, why are you defending Chuck Bass? "He didn't make me do anything."

He reached over to wrap his fingers around his cup of coffee again. "The most thorough ones never do," he said, which wasn't in any way related to his own issues. "Sometimes, they can get you to do the worst of things, and it takes you years to catch on to the fact you hate it."

Talk to her about that again after she's met Darcy Parker, mm'kay?

Though there were examples a bit closer to home. "I think sometimes those people don't mean any harm; they just think they know what's right for you better than you do."

"And that's when it gets dangerous," he said, shrugging a bit. "I mean, at the end of the day, you're the one who chooses what your life's supposed to wind up like. Sometimes it takes a while, but..."

Like about sixty to ninety years of running around killing people because Herrick said it was good for you, Mitchell.

Which just left Francine making faces into her tea. "Right, I'll get right on that one."

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Detention, Saturday

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