fandomhigh | Anarchist Philanthropist Club, Tuesday After Classes

Hidden away in a clandestine location of which only the members were aware*, Britta and Jim prepared for the first ever meeting of the Anarchist Philanthropist Club, of which both of them were pretty sure this was the first of any such club in existence. How revolutionary! Though they were only leaders in name to satiate the bureaucratic demand for titles to support an undertow of a class system by The Man, they still did a pretty good job of setting up the pizza and soda liberated from the over-indulgent bourgeoise** for the members and waited for them to arrive for their first meeting.

"Hey, guys," Jim greeted, in a manner that he hoped was just blase enough to count as anarchist, since he was one of the leaders... kind of... of this club. "Welcome to the first meeting of the Anarchist Philanthropist group. I'm Jim, and that's Britta, and while this is where any other club might have people introducing themselves as leaders, that would probably kind of be missing the point, here. Britta and I... you can think of us as glorified activity coordinators, or something, instead."

Yeah. Glorified activity coordinators eating yesterday's pizza. Like champs.

"Or maybe even...." Britta shrugged, "people who just happened to put the club together, which affords us no extra privileges or anything like that. That’s bullcrap, because society need not be governed. There are no leaders in anarchy, and certainly no voting about whether or not anyone is anarchist enough or philanthropist enough, okay? We are all leaders, leaders in standing up for the rights of human kind in the face of those who wish to squish equality under their designer leather shoes like bug. So, with that in mind, today, we’re going to get to know each other and talk about ideas on what exactly we want to accomplish. I know me and Jim have a few ideas, too, but no idea is better than any others, unless it’s really dumb, and we’ll try to get them all done. We’ve already got one planned for next week, but we’ll go over that more at the end of the meeting."

Jim stared at Britta for a moment, before clearing his throat an pressing on. He was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that when it came to anarchy, he was actually, somehow, managing to lag a few steps behind, here.

"Uh... right! Yeah. So, let's talk about causes." A beat. "If you want to, I mean. as a not-a-leader, I'm really just making a suggestion."

Sure.

* Or, well, okay, that one classroom over there.
** And by “liberated,” we mean “leftovers from the Kappa Kappa Gremlin meeting."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Should they be needed for anything, your fearless not-leaders are certainly available.

Jim was certainly available, should anyone need him. He'd be happy to answer. Around bites of pizza. You know. Rebelliously.

[Ooc: And eventually. Crazy workday coming up for me, so I'll ping when I get home, about fourteen hours from when this comment was made. WHEE.]

"Jim! Jim! Jiiiiiiiiiiiim!" Pinkie was clearly excited by something. "I had an idea for you."

"Oh, yeah?" Jim gave Pinkie a grin as he looked her way. Her enthusiasm was infectious. "What kind of idea?"

He might change his mind when he heard her actual idea.

"We should feed the gremlins!"

Yep.

Jim was going to have nightmares about that suggestion for the rest of his days.

"Uh... are they hungry?"

"Well duh! Why else would they be goin' around biting people?"

Really now.

"I always thought that they liked seeing people act weird," Jim admitted, after a moment's thought. "But I guess they might be hungry..."

He scratched his head for a moment, trying to puzzle through how to tackle this one.

"I suppose if we really wow them with something good to eat, they might agree to not bite people for at least a little while, huh?"

Like a bribe!

"Of course! In my experience, things that aren't hungry rarely bite ponies."

This from the pony whose pet baby alligator seemed to get around specifically by biting things."

"That's... actually pretty sound sense," Jim had to admit, even if he was still somewhat dubious about the whole thing. "I'll bring it up with Britta at some point, and we'll see what we can do, okay?"

Knowing Jim's luck, this was going to end with everyone in the club dancing Cabaret.

Pinkie would probably approve of that.

"Okee dokee lokee!" Pinkie said cheerfully, then trotted off.

Really, the hangover from the weekend that Britta was still kind of feeling didn't get so bad if she just kept talking and moving....or maybe just sitting there and picking pepperoni off her pizza in disgust. There was a nice little leaning tower of Pizza building up in front of her.

"Hey Britta," Matt said with a smile. "How was your trip to New York? Were you able to survive the time without wanting to strangle my roommate?"

Britta's nose wrinkled a little. "I think I actually lost her at some point around midnight," she admitted, and she lifted her brows a little in concern. "Did she make it back okay? I figured she'd be fine, she seemed to know her stuff and everything...."

"I'm sure she's fine," Matt said with a shrug. "If anything Rebecca could handle... well just about anybody. Sounds like you had a pretty good time though? Where did you go?"

"Um...." Britta narrowed her eyes and the air was filled with a long pause of utterly failing to recall a very specific answer to a question like that. "Pretty sure we started in the East Village. I think me and David...that's the guy we met that night with the party over in...somewhere...anyway, we wound up in Jersey Sunday night, and...everything else is....kind of a blur."

"Well it sounds like you had a good time," Matt said with a chuckle. "Except for the part about ending up in Jersey."

"Hey, Jersey's not that bad," Britta said, but there was another pause as she went back over a few details and sighed. "Okay, maybe it is. But still. Great time. You should come next time, when I don't make plans with your roommate first. Why don't you guys get along, anyway? I mean, okay, she's kind of...you know, but she can be fun..."

If things were kept on a purely surface, alcohol hazed party veneer...

"Kind of."

"Oh, I'm sure she can be," Matt replied with a shrug. "However she pretty much decided she didn't like me and didn't want me as a roommate after a minute of meeting each other. Then she took over my closet and rearranged the furniture when she found out they wouldn't let her find another room right away. So..."

Matt shrugged and chuckled again.

"We just don't get along. Though I've worked through it all."

Mostly by taking girls back to the room and making out on her bed.

Anarchist Philanthropist Club, Tuesday After Classes

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