There is an anarchist professor sprawled out near the pool. He's just sitting, right now, enjoying the sun and the ocean breeze. Even when it was hot back in New York it was generally humid, so he's pleased to actually sit out and relax in the sun. Nearby are a copy of the Communist Manifesto and his commandeered laptop -- he had intended to ( Read more... )

She had failed them. It was as simple as that. She had tried to go to school, and dropped out. What could be worse?

Now Nina is sitting on a street curb, head in her hands. She really doesn't know what to do. What could she say to her parents? How could she explain that she, the star of the neighborhood, the one who got a scholarship to Stanford-- ( Read more... )

Claude is listening to Sheila. Or, at least, he thinks he is. She's speaking, he hears the words, he responds - but whether or not he's really listening is questionable. He watches her move around, rallying the troops as only she can, falling to her knees and slapping the ground. Stepping up beside her, Claude falls, too. Watching Sheila, he ( Read more... )

He just wandered on the deck. He did manage to get himself stoned out again - there was a bit of meth, some booze, and he topped it off with a bazooka-sized joint.

His must have been a sunrise. Or perhaps a sunset, he's not sure.  All he knows is that he's tripping on the myriad colors. All he knows is that he's not thinking about his friend's ( Read more... )

The weather's been nice, recently. More to the point, the weather's been wonderful. So, because he felt like he should get out more -- and, of course, to enjoy the sun, there is an artist boy stretched out on deck. He's not entirely shirtless, but very close -- half buttoned, anyway, and his suspenders are hanging at his sides. He's sprawled on ( Read more... )

Natalie is in a room, practicing piano--a piece by Mozart. She basically practices everyday, as there's nothing else to do, really, and although she's happy her boyfriend is here, she's still a little lonely.  If anyone wants to interrupt her, she'd be quite grateful. She needs some human contact.

Marguerite spread out several notebooks on cushions and small tables in the main lounge. She wandered between them, reading a snippet here, making a note there. Eventually she stopped to survey the room, chewing on the end of the pen.

"Why am I so behind?" she lamented out loud. "This is long overdue."

Then she shrugged to turn back to her notes.

( Read more... )

Armand has been here. He hasn't been lost, just quiet. He's now regretting that he was so quiet he hasn't even seen Jehan that much, so he finds a chess set (if nothing else he might draw out the Russian or the American to play) and sets up on the deck. Yes, the scene looks inviting, but he still seems to vaguely be pouting. That would change ( Read more... )

( cut for spoilers... )

Mary has just been through perhaps the hardest day of her life. The man she has followed and learned from and loved has just been violently put to death. She doesn't know what to do or where to go ( Read more... )