<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3c/Ririfinal1_by_vactuart-d9pkdvm.png)</div><strong>Name: </strong>Lakresha Price<br/><strong>Student ID: </strong>OS843-0710<br/><strong>Age/Year: </strong>19/Freshman<br/><strong>Area of Study:</strong>Occult Historian<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Upstairs<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Nada<br/><hr/><br/>Chime or no chime, she was not prepared to face her peers with slime in her hair. It took a lot of work in the mornings to assemble this look from the disheveled, sour-faced opposition of a night owl forced to watch the sun rise. All of that work could be undone by a hater with a glass of water, so better to put forward a strong front. Better to put her best, most professional foot forward. So as her new friends assembled upstairs, Lakresha found reason to linger behind. She was going to be a little late.<br/><br/>Upstairs is where instinct told her the showers would be. A major arterry of hot water needed to flow up through an old house like this. She quieted her ankle boots on the stairs, lest anyone see her sneaking. These days one could make a bathroom very compact, and each sister's dwelling could have its own, but tracing the paneling on the walls, she did not think so. What cold and efficient modern construction could be allowed to reinvent these halls was few, and Gamma Rho Lambda House had been built a long time ago, back in the sanitarium aesthetic when the strategy was to herd all the miserables together in one room and spray them with water til the histerics left them.<br/><br/>Spring meadow fragrances led her nose to the right door, set back, etched along the surface by the light press of thousands upon thousands of nails. It was smaller than she imagined. Uniformly tiles up to the neck, and from there to ceiling, weathered in a way she associated with summer camp buildings. Lakresha unzipped from throat to cleft. There was something else that had cemented in her mind the confidence that Gamma Rho Lambda must have communal showers. Individual showers stripped away that social ritual of morning and nightly grooming and isolated every gregarious woman in the forest of her own insecurities. There was something more intimate about GRL. The way campus spoke of this club was in the 19th century sense of the word, hidden and cabalistic. The previous seniors had seemed very close. She wondered, as the water hit her, what had happened to them.