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fandomhigh2010-03-18 03:05 pm
mississippiqueen) wrote in fandomhigh2010-03-18 03:05 pm
Entry tags:
All-Sexuality Support Group: A Classroom, Thursday After Classes
Today, there was pie. An abundance of pie, actually; the pirats had given Gabrielle ideas.
(They'd given Emmett ideas too, but you don't want to hear about those, and they had more to do with poofy shirts and leather pants than pie, so. Anyway.) (Oh, poofy shirts and leather pants. Gabrielle was more familiar with that type of outfit than anybody from her time period had any business being. But not like that. At all. Right. Anyway.)
Anyway. Yes. Gabrielle had a slice of chocolate cream pie sitting just out of reach, because she could be decorous for a few minutes, and her hands rather firmly clasped in her lap. (This would be the handclasp of 'if I let go I'm going to fall into a yawning chasm with a roaring river running through it, which is on the same level as inhaling this pie in front of all of you' desperation, and she knew exactly how that went.)
"I don't know about all of you," she began, "but I know I'm always asking questions about things. But sometimes it's awkward to ask those questions -- there are things you've always wanted to know, but asking means admitting you don't. Which might not have consequences as dire as being held at knifepoint as a hostage in an enemy camp but can be really awkward anyway." Not that she was bitter about any such situation or anything.
Emmett looked at her silently for a moment. "Your roleplaying scenarios both surprise and intrigue me," he finally said. "Maybe you really are less vanilla than I thought."
Gabrielle's lips tightened into an exasperated parody of a smile, and she looked right at Emmett as she said through her teeth, "And there are some questions we'll just never ask. As for the ones we do want to ask about each other's lifestyles, and I really hate to use that word but I can't think of a better one, there's paper and pens here. Write down your questions, and toss them into a pile here, and we'll mix them up. Then everyone can answer the questions if they want to, and no one has to know who asked in the first place."
"Unless you're a guy and asking for my phone number," Emmett added helpfully. "I'll save you the time on that one. It's 555-3565."
[OOC: Open! Writ with the short blonde one. No, the other o-- No, the other one.]
(They'd given Emmett ideas too, but you don't want to hear about those, and they had more to do with poofy shirts and leather pants than pie, so. Anyway.) (Oh, poofy shirts and leather pants. Gabrielle was more familiar with that type of outfit than anybody from her time period had any business being. But not like that. At all. Right. Anyway.)
Anyway. Yes. Gabrielle had a slice of chocolate cream pie sitting just out of reach, because she could be decorous for a few minutes, and her hands rather firmly clasped in her lap. (This would be the handclasp of 'if I let go I'm going to fall into a yawning chasm with a roaring river running through it, which is on the same level as inhaling this pie in front of all of you' desperation, and she knew exactly how that went.)
"I don't know about all of you," she began, "but I know I'm always asking questions about things. But sometimes it's awkward to ask those questions -- there are things you've always wanted to know, but asking means admitting you don't. Which might not have consequences as dire as being held at knifepoint as a hostage in an enemy camp but can be really awkward anyway." Not that she was bitter about any such situation or anything.
Emmett looked at her silently for a moment. "Your roleplaying scenarios both surprise and intrigue me," he finally said. "Maybe you really are less vanilla than I thought."
Gabrielle's lips tightened into an exasperated parody of a smile, and she looked right at Emmett as she said through her teeth, "And there are some questions we'll just never ask. As for the ones we do want to ask about each other's lifestyles, and I really hate to use that word but I can't think of a better one, there's paper and pens here. Write down your questions, and toss them into a pile here, and we'll mix them up. Then everyone can answer the questions if they want to, and no one has to know who asked in the first place."
"Unless you're a guy and asking for my phone number," Emmett added helpfully. "I'll save you the time on that one. It's 555-3565."
[OOC: Open! Writ with the short blonde one. No, the other o-- No, the other one.]
Re: Arrive/mingle/nom
She nodded. She was... actually really grateful for how that went.
Re: Arrive/mingle/nom
Re: Arrive/mingle/nom
"I can't wait to hear about it when you get back," she said.
Re: Arrive/mingle/nom
Hopefully in the next two weeks..."I'm hoping to have some good news when I get back," Karla offered with a smile. "Of the variety that involves unicorns, dragons, and friends from school." She looked directly in Hayley's eyes. "Of which I include you."
Re: Arrive/mingle/nom