I'm going to take some time off from the game. Hopefully, I should be able to come back, but right now, it's just digging into my writing time too much.

Sarah has a large cup of coffee, which may or may not be spiked with something alcoholic. She's open for any and all parents who wish to speak with her, but she's not in the best of moods -- like always -- so enter at your peril.

(OOC: Just a warning ... I work nights and have to go to sleep now, but I should be up again by about 2 pm EST.)

Could anybody who wants in on the romance novel round robin thing sign up here, just for my own convenience? I'll make up a list and post the first part of the story by the end of the week.

Thanks! :)

I had an idea last night while I was at work and thought it might be a cool way to play with Sarah's cheesy Fandom High-based romance novel ...

( What I was thinking ... )

Sarah leans back in her desk chair, cigarette dangling from her lips as she props her feet up on the desk and drums her fingertips on the surface. There's only so much time a person could spend at the firing range -- even her, she's already jogged a good seven miles today, and all those ignorant bastards in town walking around all naive of what ( Read more... )

Sarah stumbles out of her office closet, grumbling as she drops her key and her heavy knapsack onto the floor. There's a nicely bandaged bullet wound in her upper arm, a noticable limp in her right leg, and a large bruise on the side of her neck. Her eyebrows have been partly singed off, and there's soot still smudged across her forehead ( Read more... )

Sarah finishes putting the last of her guns away in her office, then hits the button that hides and locks the arsenal behind a pair of heavy bookcases. She crosses her arms and sighs almost wistfully.

"... well, fuck."

She already misses the weight of a gun in her hands.

She could really use a drink.

From the Fandom High website ...

Come with us if you want to live. I mean it, dammit! Come on! Ah, hell. *fires one into the head* Fuckin' liability. - Principal Sarah Connor

Bwahahahahahaha!

I love you, _notanumber. Marry me and bear my psychotic gun-toting children. :)

Leaning back in her chair, Principal Connor props her feet up on the desk and glares over at Sheldon. A shot glass twirls beneath her fingertips ... the shot glass empty, the tequila bottle next to her hand only half so. There's a handgun within easy reach ( Read more... )

A sign on the outside of the bright red box says, "Request Stuff Here. Don't Expect To Get It."