<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>Main Hall 8:00 PM<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Roxanne, Isabelle, Open<br/><hr/><br/>Female bodies pressed in from all sides to join the conversation. One pushed like a jealous lover into her back and took a handful. This was a strange moment, with eyes falling on her as she felt with growing discomfort, with a strange woman's lusty breath down her zipper, that there was something she hadn't admitted to herself. "Okay, FBI. That's real thorough, wouldn't you say." Turn that agitation around, pinch it to the flesh between Roxy's thumbs and fingers to really insist that she let go. But Lakresha didn't have the leverage to put Roxy back on her feet- for that, outside help was needed. "Just startled, that's all."<br/><br/>She had wanted to thank Isabelle, but her eyes were drawn to the dress much more than the woman inhabiting it.<em>Spectacular. </em>She seemed to fill it to impossible degrees, like entwined white trees, impossible to say which accommodated the other. She never even noticed the slippers. "Would you say GR is a party sorority?" the journalist in her asked. Looking at that dress, thinking about the implications of such a showy, flirtatious first impression. "I was thinking about throwing on one of those Gamma Rho Lambda shirts to show my support, but wow, you really dressed up. Just for us girls?" Now she noticed Isabelle's hopeful smile, and smiled back, distantly, processing. "I guess I'm flattered."