fjordicswagger | Tamsin's House of Sharp Things And Presently Not Enough Alcohol, Thursday Evening

For a couple of minutes, Tamsin had contemplated the idea of just opening up Town Hall for the party, but... what would be the point in that? People were fired up on hormones, people wanted to get laid, you needed a space small enough to get 'em close together. So to speak.

Also, this way she got free booze out of the deal, so-- win win.

She'd hung the black sheets back in front of the large store windows (partly to keep the light out, partly so it was slightly less obvious the house was technically a shop she was technically maybe squatting in). She'd tossed a ton of pillows and an old mattress on the floor, since she didn't actually have a sofa, per sé. The rooms upstairs were... well, okay, they were rooms.

And there was a table for incoming booze. With solo cups. Of course.

Perfect. Time for a party. If anyone had seen the posters...

[[ ocd ~~incoming...~~ up! adults only party is a go! eta: i should probably note browse responsibly, since there might be hints of nsfw in the comments at some point, i have no idea how this post will roll ]]

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"The crown has no knowledge of my existence for the most part," Jones said with a shrug. "And my former place of employment no longer needed my input so I opted to come here of my own accord. And you Irene? What brought you to this rather unusual island?"

"Oh, a love of travel," Irene lied breezily. "What do your kids do in the Independent Study thing? I've got a fashion class this term, but last term I taught sex ed -- and I can only imagine if this had happened then."

"I expect your class would have been a rather popular place," Jones replied. "Currently my students are free to research their own topic of interest. At the end of the semester they will be presenting their research to other students and faculty at an assembly. Why elements of fashion are you teaching? Is it one where they make their own fashion or merely study it?"

"Ohhhh, that'll be fun," Irene said, because she did so love an assembly. And she didn't even know about Sparkle's project! "I'm mostly teaching them how to put together outfits without feeling, you know, stuffy. How to build a style of their own."

Jones nodded. "Over the years of my existence I've come to enjoy the various styles humanity has come up with. I've particularly enjoyed the woman's business suit over some of the more restrictive clothing from previous eras," she said as she adjusted her suit jacket slightly. "Though the Victorian era did have some interesting fashion."

"...so, time traveler or immortal?" Irene asked, parsing that.

When did she start asking these questions? When?

"To be immortal would mean that one would first have to be alive," Jones maintained. "Though that definition would perhaps be appropriate. Would it be possible to sit in on one of your classes one day? I would like to see how your students deal with fashion coming from different eras and dimensions."

"Absolutely," Irene said, though Jones was still getting a sort of weird look from her. Was she maybe a robot? "I mean, next week we're on the trip, of course, but any time after that. I've got a couple from a few centuries ago, too, and a girl who I think is from another planet -- it's an interesting mix."

You'd be surprised how many people thought Jones was a robot.

"Another planet. Interesting. I have one from another dimension however she appears to be human. It's interesting that most of the student body and faculty appear to be human only. I somehow expected more diversity here."

"There's plenty of diversity -- some of us just hide it well," Irene told her with a little smile. "I mean, not me. I'm as normal as they come. No powers, no mutations, just boring old me."

And that stung, because she wasn't used to feeling boring, but whatever.

Tamsin's House of Sharp Things And Presently Not Enough Alcohol, Thursday Evening

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