Princess of the Timber Forest Owls

Lindsay had gone to run a few errands while the person she thought was her roommate slept in. Errands in this case meant satisfying her craving for a slice of pizza and the need to replace the near empty pint of chocolate chocolate chip ice cream that had been finished a few days earlier.

She didn't even get a chance to place the new container in the fridge right away. Mostly because there was some random person in her room. Lindsay looked at the other girl suspiciously and said, "Uh...you are not my roommate."

Edited Date: 2011-05-21 10:57 pm (UTC)

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Claire was applying her make-up when she noticed the other girl. Who was most assuredly not her own roommate, Lynn ~~the girl from Alf unless someone is playing her this weekend~~.

"No, I'm not," Claire said haughtily. "Congratulations on getting the wrong room. Your parents must be proud."

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Lindsay raised an eyebrow, trying very hard not to say something she'd regret later. Instead, she stuck to the facts. "Hate to break it to you, but this is my room."

Maybe, for just a split second, she did wonder if she had the wrong room, at least until she recognized all of her stuff still on her side of the room.

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Claire stopped herself from saying something too pointed, and stopped her make-up long enough to do a visual sweep of the room.

Lynn's stuff seemed to be gone. The other half of the room was all ... gross, now. At least her half of the room was still hers.

"What, did you move in in the dead of night?" she asked, lip curling with disgust. "I want my old roommate back."

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"I've been here a year," Lindsay replied, now noticing the other half of the room was not Rinoa's...what? She was starting to have a vague idea of what was happening here. "I want my old roommate back, too. Believe me."

Rinoa was much nicer!

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Claire sighed, and took in the other girl again.

"Fine," she said. "Fine. You're either crazy, or the island's moving people around, or, fuck, maybe you're Lynn under there, in which case, I promise I won't tell you on Monday how limp and dead your hair looked. If we're still here on Monday, we put in for a room transfer and find our real roommates. Deal?"

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"Your bargaining skills kinda suck," Lindsay told her. "But fine. The sooner this ordeal is over, the better."

Claire was everything Lindsay hated about popular girls.

Edited Date: 2011-05-22 01:07 am (UTC)

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"You said it," Claire said, rolling her eyes.

Lindsay was everything Claire hated about punk girls.

"Try not to break any of my stuff?"

On Monday, Rinoa would actually offer to try to find any of Claire's stuff that may have, somehow, been trapped in the void, so that Lindsay could have the honors.

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Lindsay imagined taking a baseball bat to all of Claire's precious, fragile stuff and smirked. "Oh, wouldn't dream of it."

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From the door, Squall glared over Claire's head at Lindsay. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

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Lindsay let out a long suffering sigh as she glanced at Claire then over at Squall. "Fandom."

It seemed like a sufficient explanation.

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Only partly. "So... is she Rinoa? Is Rinoa somewhere else? ...I hate this island."

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"Yes." It could have been the answer to either of those or agreement with his last statement. "Rinoa will be back Monday and everything will be back to normal and the princess over there will be gone."

Lindsay was going to repeat that in her head over and over.

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She was probably right. But that didn't make Squall feel any better about it. "Bogus."

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"Totally." Lindsay agreed, nodding vigorously.

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Squall was unhappy. VERY unhappy. Apparently, the island had decided to change all his stuff this weekend into something... uglier.

His leather jacket, for example. It was ALL wrong.

So, he grumpily headed to Rinoa's room and pounded on the door. Having friends meant you got to make them feel miserable when you were feeling miserable, right? Or something like that.

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Claire pulled open the door and stared at the broody guy on the other side of it. She seriously liked hated broody criminal types. Honest. ~~Besides, she was pre-canon.~~

"Yes?" she said, raising her eyebrows at the guy. "Did you want something?"

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This wasn't Rinoa, and it wasn't Lindsay. What the hell?

"Who are you?" he demanded.

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"I'm Claire," she said, dryly. "I live here, despite what Miss Punk over there seems to think. If some trashy girl gave you this room number, then I'll spell it out for you: she doesn't want to see you. Sorry."

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"Where is Rinoa?!?!" Squall demanded.

(Something is HEINOUSLY wrong, here.)

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"Look," Claire said flatly. "I've never even heard that name. I'm Claire. Miss Punk over there is Lindsay. My last roommate was Lynn. I don't know who you are, but you're kind of creeping me out. Go. Away."

She was going to try shutting the door, now.

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"This is Rinoa's room," Squall insisted, sticking his foot in the door to stop it from closing. "She's Lindsay's roommate. I've never seen you before. I don't know what the island is doing, but I don't like it!"

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"Sorry, basket case," Claire said, changing her mind at the last minute and yanking the door open instead. "This is my room. You want to bitch at Miss Punk over there, you go right ahead. I'm going into town. And if you touch anything of mine, I'm going to get my dad to sue you. You got that?"

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Squall rolled his eyes. "I'm not afraid of your father." And definitely not afraid of lawsuits. "Whatever."

And to PROVE to her how much contempt he had for her, he said "Sham-on!" in a breathy voice and grabbed his crotch at her.

(What the hell?)

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"Nice moves," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "Michael Jackson was so two years ago. Good luck stalking the girl with the ugly name."

Because she had shopping to do, kthxbai.

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