|machine give cash|

Electroclash was in her office with a nice big mug of coffee, and all was right in the world. She'd even told the administrative office to send out another batch of those general check-up emails. Surely someone was at leats feeling jittery ahead of that prom thing yanks loved so much, and needed counseling?

Even if they didn't, she was going to be here. Having coffee and enjoying her day.

[ooc: Open post/office/door, mod your emails at will!]

Oh, look who'd actually been doing her job! Electroclash, that's who. The emails she'd been sending back and forth with the administration were bearing fruit, finally. After careful consideration (though not on Sarah's part – maybe the moose had done it) of the situations on the island, they'd come to the decision that it'd be best to just start pulling kids at random for counseling. Let's face it, everyone on Fandom was probably a little messed up from all the fucked up things that kept happening. Might as well help people at random.

Though how they'd benefit from talking to Electroclash, well, they'd see.

So, some emails had been sent to random students, and Electroclash was in her office, ready to listen and ofer advice. Possibly terrible, terrible advice. But advice nonetheless!

[ooc: Open! Feel free to mod your character having gotten an email asking them to come see the counselor! The same will be happening in the coming weeks as well, because I figure this is a good way of IC-ly forcing people in that wouldn't come in on their own even though their players would OOCly like it.]

If you asked Sarah, the weekend had gone well enough. Sure, her dad had only handwavily called Guy 'you little shit!' once, it was still a moment she was going to treasure forever. Because that was just the way she was.

It had still taken a lot out of her, the whole 'sluttying herself up to annoy the parents while trying to act nice for someone else's benefit' bit, and she'd spent the last two days hermiting in her apartment, covered from head to toe in comfortable jammies. Even today, she'd foregone the uniform for a more mundane (and most importantly, less revealing) outfit. Because she could.

And to further spite her parents because she was still on that kind of kick, she was... sending an email to school administration about looking at the student files and figuring out who might benefit from counseling. Yeah, she was actually doing stuff related to her job. Take that, Dad!

Yeah, she was weird. And also moving on to researching African beers and pubs online once that email was sent, because that was a crucial thing in deciding whether to go on the trip or not.

[ooc: Open!]