What we have here is a failure to communicate. No, that's not right. We're communicating right now, if only one-way. What we have here are pieces of stories, ideas that don't really stand by themselves or which are really short or which I just didn't feel like cleaning up enough to post. Free to a good home and all that.
Disclaimer: As a general thing, I don't own the characters and universes described here. These are fanfiction fragments, after all. If I ever get off my lazy butt and finish my partially-written novellas, I'll make sure to write a couple of fanfics on them, just so I can say I do own the characters. That's for the future, though.
Universe: St Trinian's (2007 movie)
Rating: T, for nudity and implied violence
Her first look at St. Trinian's had impressed her. The enormous building loomed in the distance, sat in the middle of hundreds of acres of grounds.
First impressions didn't last. From the severely damaged front lawn to the non-uniform, slatternly uniforms on the students, St. Trinian's appeared to be the bottom rung of the boarding school ladder.
She sat and grieved outside the headmistress's office as her father took time from his busy, busy schedule to finalize arrangements for her schooling. Things were still in disarray after her mother's sudden death barely a week ago. Daddy Dearest, of course, was much too busy and too important to raise her himself, so it was off to school with her. The best she could hope for would still be a huge change from the way she lived and gone to school until now.
St. Trinian's hardly seemed to be the best she could hope for.
The students – sluts or hoodlums, the lot of them – were worse than the school grounds. Hardly any spoke even a single word to her, but they all stared at her. Sized her up. Looked a little too long at the bags which held everything she owned. It set her nerves on edge. She took a moment to check her possessions again. This seemed the sort of place which would have a lot of thieves.
Daddy Dearest finally emerged from the headmistress's office, laughing more than she thought he should, considering his wife of seventeen years was barely in the ground.
And then, with barely more than an exhortation to do the family proud, he was gone and the headmistress was handing her off to some other teacher, a young woman with glazed eyes and who smelled of something aromatic and sweet.
The stoner teacher led her up to the dorm where she'd be staying, then wandered off with no more than a vague wave toward a bed with no linens. Fortunately, or not, the Head Girl led the older girls up in what turned out to be an introduction and hazing session. The hazing wasn't as bad as television had led her to expect, so she dealt with it.
Late in the evening she finally made it to the upper-year showers, to wash off the sweat and the insults which had been written on her face.
When she got out of the water, her towel was gone. Of course. Her view of the school as being filled with thieves and thugs had been right on.
When she saw that her clothes were missing, too, she rolled her eyes. It appeared that the charming young ladies of St Trinian's hadn't finished hazing her. She headed up to the dorm room, not worrying about her wetness or trying to cover her nudity. There were no men in the school at night, she had no reason to be ashamed of her body, and the bitches in the school obviously wanted to make her act like a screaming fool.
When she saw the video camera following her as she walked, she saw red. They'd gone too far.
Finding a push-broom in a cleaning closet, she removed the handle and then snapped it in two. Daddy Dearest had been distantly proud of his athletic daughter, paying for lessons and team memberships without paying attention to the details. He probably didn't even know what eskrima was.
If they were testing her, they were about to learn what she could do.
And if this dump was law of the jungle, dog eat dog, she was going to be the nastiest bitch in the pack.
A/N: Annabelle's reaction to the towel theft near the beginning of the 2007 movie was pathetic.