|machine give cash|

This was it.

Sarah's apartment at MCA and office at the school had been emptied out. Most of her stuff was now in London under Jenny's care, waiting on how things shook out. Sarah herself had spent most of this past week in London as well, for the most part making sure her arse print was still worn into the seat in their favourite booth at The Fortress. It'd been a good time, despite Jenny's repeated fucking blubbering at how romantic this whole thing was. Alex had mostly looked confused about the whole thing, while Don had just stated he wished the sex was worth the move.

And Devlin, ever-present with his group of brown-nosers by the bar, had made some crack about her tits and space and whatever.

She'd said her goodbyes.

And then she'd set up on her journey. Which had been the bloody worst, so far. Of course there couldn't be a direct portal from London to Oa. Of course not. She'd been bounced around the multiverse, from one waiting area to the next, so many times that she'd already lost count and was ready to yell at just about anyone who gave her even the slightest bit of extra trouble. She'd worn her costume for this journey, hoping that'd make people treat her better, but nah. Same shit as she would've gotten in her civvies. Except maybe with a touch more leering, ugh.

She'd never been as glad to figure out this portal was the final one. It spat her out, and she was there. On Oa.

"Fucking finally."

God, she hoped that fucking ginger pain in her arse was actually here.

And also not dating some early-twenties waif with legs for days.

[ooc: This is it, Sarah's final hurrah! NFB and for the Guy + relevant NPCs with the kind permission of the admins. Thank you all for making these five and a half years with Sarah such a lovely time!]

Sarah had had a lot of time to be thinking some things over, lately. Especially over the back end of last week, which had been complete and utter bollocks by the way, because trying to smoke on the balcony was not easy when you risked getting bitten by flying fucking sharks in the process of just trying to get your nicotine fix.

So, anyway.

She'd had a lot of time to think, and she was veering closer and closer to a a decision.

Except that was a lie, kind of, because she'd more or less already made up her mind. And that meant one thing: checking in with some people who weren't Jenny and therefore weren't going to just relentlessly gush at her for being so romantic or some other bullshit like that.

And so, armed with far too much beer, she knocked on the door across the hall from hers.

With her foot. Because, see above about all the beer. She had her hands full, so, kicking it was.

[ooc: For them dudes that live here! Up early for SP and timezoney justice]

Jigsaw puzzles were so fucking boring.

So why was Electroclash still working on the one she had spread out over the desk in her office? Some weird masochistic sense of 'well it's not like I have anything else to be doing', probably. Besides, she'd made some progress over the last month. One corner of the puzzle filled up an' all. Even if it was still boring as shit.

Sure, there was a pile of untouched paperwork off to one side but please, she wasn't that desperate for entertainment.

[ooc: Open door/post. Come get your guidance on.]

Electroclash didn't feel like being here.

So, business as usual, then. Since she was here, and looking surly as hell while she was. Although at least some of the surliness was due to Jenny's bloody stupid insistence that Sarah should make some kind of a cutesy little slideshow of some of their holiday photographs.

The computer wasn't co-operating. Neither with her feeble attempts at clicking things, nor actual raspy, electronic voiced commands.

"Un-fucking-believable."

Yeah, this was great and soothing.

[ooc: Open!]

The thing about choosing date attire while your apartment was full of pollen was that sometimes you ended up in a dress that you were kind of a little too boobtastic for. But sometimes these things couldn't be helped. Because sometimes it was way too late to go back and change once you realized the error of your fashion ways, and you just had to own it.

Also, she did look great in it. Try to contain yourselves, Il Pollo customers.

"Well, here we are," she told her date, once they'd entered. Because she was perhaps even worse at talking while on a date than she was at dressing for one.

[ooc: For that one guy.]

There was a guidance counselor in the guidance counselor's office.

During actual office hours.

It was a mid-week miracle!

... She was also making paper planes out of a small pile of Valentine's Day themed junk mail. Because reasons. Which had largely to do with Valentine's Day being utter bollocks. Cheery!

[ooc: ]

Sarah had no recollection of at any point during her stay in London having neither bought nor packed what was most aptly described as a small mountain of bags of crisps. And yet here they were, tumbling out of the bag she hadn't really bothered to unpack until now.

Considering how many of them seemed to be in particularly hot flavours, she suspected Alex had something to do with it.

But she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, she grabbed a few of the small bags and slumped onto her couch with them. Maybe she could find something mindless to marathon and put her newly-found snacks to some good use.

[ooc: Semi-method RP ftw. Open, sure sure, entertain me in these here in-between days.]

Jenny was coming to visit tomorrow. No fighting her, apparently, though God knew Sarah had tried. She didn't need any bloody visitors at this time! But the administration had cocked up and sent Jenny an invitation, and there was no stopping her when she got the idea of cheering someone up in her head.

But at least she wasn't showing up today.

Not that Sarah was doing much of anything. She'd had a random idea about going off the island, to some bar no one knew her at, to see if she could go on the pull like she had –– well, a long, long time ago. However, the furthest she'd gotten with that was trying on an oooold dress. Which, yeah, unsurprisingly was a lot tighter on her than it used to be, though on the plus side, at least her rack looked bloody phenomenal once she'd squeezed herself into it.

Of course, after taking a moment to admire herself in the mirror (or have mixed feelings at herself in the mirror), she just flopped down onto her couch.

The mainland was too far away.

[ooc: Open. IDEK.]