Fluffy and oh so puffy (Skye)

[rola]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/fk5qwnjpg.png); width: 457px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30; -moz-border-radius: 35 35 35 35; -webkit-border-radius: 35 35 35 35;] hi » FIRE IT UP. To say that this place smelled like crap and convince someone of that lie was to have the same level of deceit great enough to convince Satan to wear a winter coat in hell. The stench was nearly unbearable. A coughing sound came from the far west stall with a horrible way of trying to deal with the smell. Another sound of a pen conducting a scheduled meeting with paper could also be heard to anybody in this space. No amount of air freshener would make this person lose focus now. No relief or destruction of every fecal ridden toilet in this restroom would cause a halt of the writing. This subject was just too important. The time was now. A change had to be made and this manuscript was needed as far as this person was concerned. Those who read this document would see something that was filled with passion. No, this was no writing that was of a random inspiration. These kinds of words were reserved for those who sought to release pent up anger and disgust towards an oppressor. Those fingers were being treated as slaves with the same amount of equivalent sweating that would be found in the palms of a video gamer bent on reaching a new level of mastery. This was no game though. The subject matter affected millions around the world. This oppression was so important to the point where riots and marches were performed to try to stop it. The person recited the words they were writing in a whispering tone. "Student loan debt is now worth over a trillion dollars in America. To put that into perspective one trillion dollars is one sixteenth of the cumulative national debt of the United States of America. The president of that very same country was still paying on his student loan debt even while being in the White House. Now if that doesn't make you sick to your stomach then please, by all means, seek professional help," the woman whispered. She was trying to put all of her anger into this book she was writing. This person had just finished paying off their own educational burdens. The amount of money that was shelled out created this mental fury that was being expressed on paper. Why anybody would want to write something like this in a restroom meant for relief and hygiene was unknown. The greater question was just who was this angry about student loans? Well, the answer to that question came in the form of a person; Rola. It was no secret that while she had a college education she harbored deep hatred for the abusive loan practices that, by in large, had much to do with the greedy practices of institutions of higher learning. While she would never tell one of her students to not seek higher levels of education she would also advise those same young people to have a plan on how to pay loan money back. The teacher was sitting on a toilet writing. Her dress of black jean pants, a white t-shirt and black boots were more fitting for someone who wouldn't see the lady's room as a safe haven. Her mouth kept moving and silently reciting the words. It was known that she had a habit of talking to herself. This woman thought too much and she believed that was the reason why she had conversations with herself. She had to hide. Rola had the reputation of being weird with the words that she said. So, of course, it'd make sense for her to want to hide from people when she was writing. Rola believed that writing expressed more truth about a person than vocal output. Therefore, if she was afraid of what people would think of her words why would she want the possibility of someone finding out about her writing? Not to mention the fact that she actually wanted to get this book published. words, outfit, whatever you want

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THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION.

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[SKYE JESSICA FORD]

For the most part, Skye avoided the bathrooms dotted seemingly randomly throughout the school if she could help it. This was a lesson that she had learnt way back in high school. She didn't know why people were so gross -- seriously, by high school and college they should have some kind of decent level of respect and sense of hygiene not to want to trash every bathroom they went through -- but apparently they were. Normally, it wasn't so bad. The bathrooms in the dorms were cleaner, and generally if she could then she just retreated back to her dorm a couple times in the day. She liked to be there anyway. There wasn't all that much to do around the school itself. Either way, she normally didn't find herself in situations where she legitimately had no choice, but it was kind of stupid that the one time she was reduced to actually entering one of these random bathrooms, it wasn't actually to use the bathroom.

It was while walking down the hallway probably about five minutes earlier, minding her own business, that she turned the corner and was greeted with water -- a lot of water. Something hit her in the face and next second, she was soaked. Um. What? It took her a second to push her now wet hair away from her face but by that time all she saw was a gaggle of kids -- probably Waters, of course they were -- running off. The slightly irrational part of her wanted to go after them and tell them off, but this was an easily suppressed part, and she was kept busier at that moment with worrying about her hair. Skye's hair was important, alright. "Fuck," she mumbled, weighing her options for a few brief seconds. The hallway was pretty empty -- many high school students should have been in class and she wondered why those kids with the water balloon hadn't been, but then again, she didn't care what a bunch of brats were doing running around anyway, except that they had messed around with her. Skye wasn't a fan of... most Waters.

There was the option of heading back to her dorm, fixing her hair and... probably make-up too, damn it all, but she'd been just on the way to class. Her clothes had been mercifully mostly spared. There was a bathroom down the hall that she literally had not entered in years, but Skye sighed. She had class not long from now -- it was where she'd been headed. The Thunder dorms were pretty far away. Great. She decided to suck it up and deal as she continued down the hall, entering the bathroom. It smelled awful and she kept well away from the stalls, making a beeline for the mirrors so that she could inspect her hair. It looked as soaked as she'd expected, and she raised a hand to try and maybe fix it up somewhat, but there wasn't much that she could do. No sooner had she done this, either, than she heard someone's whispering, and she froze.

It wasn't so much that she thought she had any reason to be scared or anything -- maybe if the whispers were about murder and death and mass destruction, but they weren't, though they did sound distinctly angry. Mostly, she just wondered why on Earth or any other planet someone would want to take to doing... whatever they were doing, here, in a pretty disgusting bathroom. She paused for a moment to tune into the actual words and was kind of surprised to find that she did recognize the voice. She turned to stare at the stalls, though she couldn't tell which one the voice was actually coming from. "Ms. Collins? Is that you?" Her voice sounded kind of uncertain, which wasn't that common for Skye, but okay, this situation could not really be considered normal. "What are you doing in here?"