Or Thursday, really, really early, if you would prefer.

Agnes woke from a restless sleep mumbling angrily to herself. "Visiting my dreams. Couldn't just send a letter. Noooo..."

She continued mumbling, apparently having a conversation with herself, while she packed up all of her books and the dress she'd bought for herself with her Teal Dear money.

Finally, she made a couple of telephone calls (she hoped properly) to the administration to let them know she would be leaving and wasn't sure when she'd be back.

Stupid witches.

She got her broomstick out of the closet, settled her hat on her head, and headed for the roof.

[ooc: The sudden life change, while financially wonderful, has wrought hell with my ability to play. I'm sending Agnes home for now, and I'll see if things settle down to a more manageable level. Thank you to everyone who's been so nice to my girl, and my sincerest apologies to Teal Dear.]

It had to happen sometime - a new place, new people, new illnesses. Agnes would give a lot to know why she'd broken out in squares.

Not spots. Spots she could understand. Her spots were square.

And they tickled.

She'd been that way for days and spent all of Friday hiding under her blanket, reading all of her books, and trying to find a cure for The Squares. Because she wasn't leaving her room until they were gone.

[ooc: Not open for interaction, but at least Agnes has a silly illness that should clear up soon.]

Agnes lay on her bed idly kicking her feet against the wall while she did her standard "homework with dictionary accompaniment." Very exciting. Especially since she wasn't actually doing her homework, she was just lying there, kicking the wall and thinking.

The weekend had been more than a bit odd, but she seemed to be back to her abnormal selves self again. She was even going to be able to buy a dress to wear to homecoming that wasn't her usual shapeless black thanks to Teal Dear's Saturday show.

Detention had been... pointless. Other than earning her the right to take a quiz she didn't remember missing. Which was quite disturbing and which Perdita refused to comment on.

[ooc: Open, but likely slow, as my head is not so functional tonight.]

Agnes closed her book and dictionary and set it aside. She'd been reading so much her eyes were nearly crossed. Theory, theory, theory. She liked theory as much as the next witch.

Which was a very mixed bag. Goodie Whemper had been a research witch after all, and Magrat's cottage, which Agnes had inherited after the witches' fashion, had all of her books and notes.

But then you had witches like Nanny and Granny, who were really Agnes' role models and teachers. Granny didn't hold with education - it "got in the way of learning."

So. Theory.

Or practice.

Agnes lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, then opened them again and grabbed her notebook, scribbling something before lying back again.

The notebook lay on her stomach as her breathing slowed and then apparently stilled. I'm not dead.

[ooc: Not open unless the roommate wishes to freak out. Agnes isn't dead and isn't doing anything especially successful tonight. A girl's got to practice, though.]

Is this the em pee el ay
Or is this the you dee ay
Or is this the eye are ay
I thought it was the you kay or just
another country
another council tenancy

Agnes rubbed her temples and turned the opera on the radio up a little louder to try to drown out Perdita's loud and enthusiastic singing. It would be just her luck that Perdita had simply adored the Sex Pistols. Even the name....

( Link drop goes here )

[ooc: open for the roommate or anyone who wants to complain about the loud opera coming from the room.]

Agnes sat on her bed flipping through the books she'd had to get for for her Prophecy class. Considering she'd had to bother Granny quite a bit to give her some exercises to work on her own abilities to see something other than right-this-second, it was amazing to her that people could just sit down in a class and start learning about it. She was happy to have chatted a little with Lyra in that class, though, since they had to do group projects.

If she could take these books home with her, her cottage would need four bookshelves.

It had been a mind-boggling week. ( For one thing, these people were so insensible, they didn't even have Octeday... )

With all the writing done, she put the book aside and started in on the exercises Granny had given her when she'd bothered her enough for them. Her magic was just a muscle. She needed to exercise it if it was going to work, and Prophecy class today had reminded her.

The only problem was that the only image she was getting was that of a blue cat. That obviously wasn't anywhere in her immediate future. Maybe she should just go back to reading some of her Prophecy texts.

[ooc: Door's open.]

Agnes had very thoroughly explored the room she was sharing with this Joxer person and had determined that she should be able to put up a sheet to divide the room in half and allow them both some privacy.

Still, the thought that there would be a boy just on the other side of the curtain... She was just glad she'd convinced him that she could turn him into a frog. Even if she was much more likely to just convince him that she'd turned him into a frog.

She'd pulled a candle out of her bags and sat near it to begin a letter home to her mum assuring her that she hadn't been ravished, and she even had a big sister of sorts. She did not mention Joxer. Her mum didn't need the worries.

[ooc: open]

"What is this? It's like a clacks? For voices? Oh. Who's telling me to press pound to save my message? I don't see a pound on this thing."

*sound of all of the buttons being pressed randomly*

"Poot."

*more button tones and the record beep*