|machine give cash|

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

This was nothing new, no matter what the particular reasons may have been this time. Nothing particularly new about the fact that emails had gone out to random students again, inviting them in for counseling check-ups. The administration had vaguely said they might be targeting new students, but Electroclash had no clue as to whether that had actually been done.

She was folding some of her useless paperwork into paper planes all the same.

[ooc: Open post, mod your emails at your leisure, old and new students alike! La.]

Sigh. Guess this retreat thing wasn't one hundred percent proof bollocks.

Alex had caused a small forest fire. That had been moderately amusing. And yeah, yeah, whatever, maybe there was some comfort to be derived from being around Jenny for an extended period of time after so long.

There was still an altogether too massive an emphasis on sitting around in circles, talking about your feelings. Ugh. And the insistence on being calm, like that was some kind of a superior mode of being. And Sarah wouldn't have minded the vegetarian catering so much if it hadn't been primarily bean-based. Add to all that the fact that she had something niggling irritatingly in the back of her mind, and you had one grumpy superhero. But what else was new?

She wasn't supposed to be using her phone – something about disrupting energies – but whatever. There was something very juvenile delinquent about standing behind a shed smoking a cigarette – also frowned upon – while making a call.

She couldn't do much about anything else here, but she could try and nudge the niggling, at least.

[ooc: NFB, for one plz.]

The cornershop by the Fortress was still run by the creepy old man who smelled like eggs. Inside the Fortress, the ladies' room line was still endless, Devlin was still a prick, and Norse Dave still lapsed into non sequiturs about his PTSD while getting beers for punters.

But, even Sarh had to grudgingly agree that the booth was still there, too. The four of them – Sarah, Jenny, Alex, and Don – still occupied the same space as they had for many years prior to her sudden move across the pond. Everything was about the same. Jenny's bubbly stories of dating woes, Alex's whining about not being famous or successful enough, and Don's tales of ill-advised men's room hook-ups included. Sarah would not have admitted to anyone, but she felt normal here.

And yet she was still looking up Portalocity prices back to Fandom either today or tomorrow, anyway. Too much of a good thing could be bad, or some bullshit like that.

[ooc: NFB, but open, as these things tend to be!]

That had definitely been... something.

Sarah hadn't minded the wacky Technicolour '20s-by-way-of-'50s musical world she'd ended up in for a bit after trying to surprise a mook with a blaster a few days ago. Nor had she minded the nudity involved in the escape today because she'd been sufficiently furious not to give a single flying fuck what anyone thought of any of her wobbly bits, or who saw them.

But when you'd had your powers for about as long as you'd been getting your period, getting them snatched away even in something that had turned out not to be real (and even just for a while) was a pretty hard hit. Especially together with a very much real kidnapping.

She hadn't remembered what it was like not to be able to talk to electric things. Now she did.

She didn't like it.

And it was too late in the evening, or too early in the morning, to be calling up London to complain. At least not without getting pestered stupid fucking pointless questions like what had her calling people in the middle of the night. Which meant it was pointless to call because it wasn't as if she wanted to talk. She wanted –– something. But not that. So. No fucking calling anyone. She could sit here in her kitchen and drum the table with her fingertips until she calmed the hell down.

Bumsticks.

... Yeah, she couldn't stay still. She couldn't even stay home. She tried valiantly for a good while, but –– fuck it. Eventually she found herself in town in the middle of the night. Lighting cigarette after cigarette.

[ooc: Look, just because I couldn't brain for the BDE doesn't mean my characters shouldn't suffer consequences omg. Open, yes.]