0-6: Miss - Winnie and Gilbert refuse, for now

⚁⚀ 2,1 +1 = 4. Fran seems cursed with bad luck.

Despite the cool autumn weather you feel a bead of sweat forming in your hair as several of them exchange nervous glances. Bertie, of course, is straightening his glasses and can barely conceal his grin.

"Err, I'm not so sure, Franziska." Winnie answers nervously, wringing her hands and shrugging. "I mean - t'isn't like I'm some kind of dusty-knickers prude or anything! Honestly, it's a bloody well tempting proposition, and, Hell, I'd pitch right in for some kind of wild party between terms, if we can all still look eachother up. But well - going to a party to hook up with geezers and lead 'em off into a dark corner for a snog and a quick shag is one thing. Doing it all out in the open with a whole group, well - I think I'd rather have to work my way up to that! Best of luck, though!"

Gilbert clears his throat and rubs his chin, looking back and forth as if conversing with an angel and devil on each shoulder. "Well damn... I mean, it's cracking that you're such a bold girl, Fran, and I'd be a lying knave if I said I wouldn't love to be a part of something like that. But the problem is we're all first years, and you just a hair above us on the ladder of privilege. Realistically, I have to think we'd just get ourselves run in for detention and the party busted up by nosy staff before it gets good, aye? And it would be outright inviting harassment and mischief by the bloody ton from Minervals, among others."

Berthold huffs in disbelief and stares at the two of them. "You gormless... she takes the risk of floating an idea like that and you shoot her down harder than an imp creepin' up on your beds? Bloody god damn shame. Listen Franziska - my great little general, my brilliant strategist from across the sea - I think your idea is smashing. Fuck me if I didn't come close to suggesting that very same thing more than a couple of times. To hear it suggested by a lass is just priceless."

Looking at their slightly hurt expressions, Berthold visibly backs down a little and holds his hands up diplomatically. "Here now, come... no offense meant, really. For some, that sort of situation might be right unbearably awkward, wouldn't want our little hang-outs to get all stodgy. You'll be jealous when you hear how it goes..." the short young man flicks his eyes over to you hopefully. "You ARE still planning on having a go at it, right Franziska?" He kneels melodramatically in front of you. "I pledge me sword to thine cause, milady, come what may."

You just shrug. "Well... I cannot say that their objections are not perfectly reasonable. Speaking quite frankly, well... I come from a family of means and influence, so I am not terribly over-worried about being expelled. So far my marks have been close to exemplary. But for some reason..." your mind flicks back to the storeroom, the four-way by the fireplace, the theater orgy and the unlocked door... "...I really want this."

"If anyone can do this, you can, Frannie!" Bertie gives you a short round of applause. "Er, but to be quite honest, I'm brassik at the moment, haven't got any favors or goodwill from the staff, and am not exactly the most popular toff on the campus. Mightn't mid-term be pushing it? Er... this isn't going to be one of those dangerous things where we go somewhere stalked by creatures of the night in search of privacy and proper ambiance, is it? Lot of horror stories start that way..."

You give the young man a hard look. Now HE is getting cold feet? You're starting to wonder if you shouldn't have gone to Samara, of all people.

Franziska has 5 XP and may spend them on a character advancement. See Spending XP in the Boarbristle Rules.