September 30th, 9:30 AM-

With an expertly planned schedule, and just a little bit of luck, one could manage to sleep in until 10 every day. Elvis never bothered with an alarm, as it simply wasn't needed given she woke up on her own at 9:30 on the dot every day with plenty of time to get ready before her first class. Sitting up in bed the blue haired girl stretched, wiping some long hairs away that had stuck unceremoniously to her face while she slept. She needed to shower and rebraid those anyway. That would be today's second order of business. First on the list of tasks for today was a shower.

Unlike when she lived in the dorms as a freshman, where the girls always lined up waiting for the one shower on the whole floor with something resembling water pressure, the shower in her single room apartment was always hot and vacant and ready with all the pressure she needed for her convenience. Not only that, but it was substantially cleaner than those communal stalls, something Elvis greatly appreciated. As a young freshman she had always fought against her opposing desires to not get any disgusting foot fungus, but to not have to wear any soggy shower shoes that made loud wet squelches when she stepped either. She no longer needed to carry all of her things back and forth, instead having them set up in suitable order along the edge of the tub, and she could walk naked from her bedroom to the bathroom without any prying eyes of her hall mates. There wasn't anyone to keep her awake talking at all hours of the night or moving her things or interrupting her activities or distracting her from homework, and there really wasn't much else she could ask for than that. Without a doubt, Elvis Blackwood was much more suited for living alone.

Also much unlike her freshman dorm, the small apartment had a kitchen of its own, though she rarely used the appliances other than the fridge and the microwave. Cooking anything in the oven or on the stove simply took too long, and her tastes were simple enough that a microwave usually did the trick. This morning, as she felt particularly adventurous, Elvis decided on having a bowl of cocoa pebbels instead of fruity. Sometimes she liked to live life on the edge.

Since childhood Elvis had gotten into the habit of laying out her outfits for the upcoming day the night prior, that way if anything unexpected got in the way of her daily routine she would have that much more time to handle them accordingly. Today's spread included a well worn band tee, and grungy green jeans that she thought complimented her blue hair quite nicely. She had been told her appearance could be intimidating, or off-putting, but that didn't matter much to her as long as she liked it. Taking a moment in front of the mirror, her fingers nimbly went to work tightly braiding the long strands of hair that hung down in front of her ears from the otherwise shaved sides of her head. Once both sides were delicately wound together, she gave them a quick twirl around her fingers with a small smile before heading out the door.

September 30th, 10:30 AM-

With plenty of time remaining until class, Elvis strolled leisurely through the quaint little campus. Being a small private school in a tiny town, even at a slow, meandering pace it only took about ten minutes for her to reach her economics class. She arrived just early enough to snag her usual seat in the middle of the third row, what she considered prime location. It wasn't so close to the professor that she felt the need to make any actual eye contact or some up with other things to look at, yet it wasn't so far away that she got distracted and doodled in her notebook instead. Apparently others thought the same thing, however, as not arriving early usually meant coming in to find someone else had stolen her unofficial spot. Few things made Elvis more irritable, which made it worth getting there a little earlier than she otherwise might.

The specifications of her seats mattered more in classes she had little interest in and the risk of getting distracted was heightened, like with physics for example. When material couldn't hold her attention, her mind wandered away to doodles instead. In fact, her doodles as of late had begun to draw her attention so much that she had been thinking about getting into an art class. Setting the notebook filled with said scattered doodles off to the side, the blue haired girl pulled her laptop from her bag and headed straight for Monroe's town site to look up where she could find art lessons locally.

Much to her satisfaction, the rec center just a few minutes from campus had a short, basic class posted for only $50. As Elvis had nothing else planned for the late afternoon that particular September day, it today seemed as good as any day for testing it out.

September 30th, 1:30 PM-

Elvis' school schedule left her with one hyper-condensed block of classes per day, which allowed for leisurely mornings and fairy open afternoons. When she left to join Sammy O'Neil for lunch, class had finished for the day. As usual Sammy waited for her near the west parking lot, leaning against their car. Much like Elvis, Sammy had a slight alternative edge to their look, and came off as intimidating even more so than their blue haired counterpart due to their aggressive nature. They had a dramatic haircut like their companion, with long red hair on one side of their head and a black streak running through the front. Sammy's face bore even more piercings and their body even more tattoo laden that Elvis', and they tended to wear smudged black eyeliner that made them look like a cross between a punk and glam rockstar.

"Afternoon," they greeted as Elvis approached wordlessly, waiting until they unlocked the passenger side door and climbed into the car. "How's the day treating you?"

"Not bad," Elvis quipped, setting her bag on her lap as she slid into the passenger side seat. "I have decided I am doing to go to the recreation center and take an art class today." Sammy raised a curious, pierced brow at the news, starting the car and rolling off towards town to fetch something for lunch.

"Yeah? What kind of art are you thinking? If you wanted to get an apprenticeship at Voodoo I'm sure you could," they offered. The pair had met in the shop Sammy currently apprenticed for when Elvis had first moved into town and came in looking to get a back piece started. Sammy struck up conversation with the blue haired girl in the waiting room immediately, and the two exchanged contact information before she left the shop. Elvis had even allowed her friend to practice on her, now bearing a swirled lizard design around her thigh to show for it.

"No. I do not want to do tattooing, I don't want to do art full time. I want to get into politics as soon as I am out of school," Elvis replied seriously. Sammy snorted at her response.

"With hair like that do you honestly think anyone would take you seriously?" they challenged, pulling the car up to a local dive to eat. Elvis wrinkled her nose and squinted her eyes disapprovingly at the suggestion.

"I can take the piercings out during work and during interviews. And I have my debate wigs to wear as well," she retorted, getting out of the car and heading inside the restaurant with her fiery haired, and fiery worded companion. They were seated without any trouble as the place remained fairly obscure even in the small town, like a well kept secret from the rest of the world. Elvis picked up the plastic coated menu and began to painstakingly examine the entirety of the menu while Sammy leaned back in their chair casually throwing an arm over the back and hardly bothering to open their own menu.

A waiter came by shortly after their arrival to take drink orders, Sammy requesting a water with lemon while Elvis asked to try out the chocolate malt. Sammy smirked at the choice.

"You know your face is going to hurt so bad by the time you are done sucking that thing down, the malts they have here are huge," they warned. Elvis shrugged indifferently, but said nothing. Though Sammy would never scrutinize her choices in appearance or apparel like many others would, they still had quite a bit to say about all the other decisions she made.

The arrival of the drinks left Sammy watching in amusement as Elvis sucked her cheeks in hard to pull up the thick malt from her glass, taking breaks when brain freeze crept its way across her head. Both students ordered the same cheeseburger for lunch, and as soon as the waitress left Sammy looked up with sudden inspiration.

"You can I should be roommates, and get a dog," they decided as Elvis continued to struggle with sucking down her malt. "I don't really like little dogs. But I've heard that lots of big dog breeds can be pretty mellow. We would just need to find a place that would allow a big dog. Like a great dane! Or a mastiff!" Elvis didn't respond, her eyes trained on the malt before her. "Elvis? What do you think?"

Pulling back from the drink for another brain breeze break, Elvis twirled one of her small braids around her finger with uncertainty plain on her face. "I don't want to move out of my apartment," she replied frankly. "And my lease isn't up yet so I can't do that right now. That, and big dogs scare me."
This news made Sammy grumble quietly to themself, but they couldn't stay grumpy for long as the food arrived shortly after. The pair busied themselves with their hamburgers, and Elvis noticed a distinct soreness in her cheeks beginning to develop from her malt, as predicted.

September 30th, 2:30 PM-

For the remainder of their lunch the two made idle chit chat from the most recent political candor to attempting to sweet talk Elvis into taking up the tattoo apprenticeship. As the lock neared 3, the intrepid duo headed back to campus to carry out the remainder of their days work.

"Hey, if you want to come over tonight I just got a bunch of Criss Angel dvds in the mail, we could check them out," Sammy offered, pulling a pack cigarettes out of their pocket. Elvis drummed her fingers on her thigh, tempted by the promise of magic and likely fatty foods to do along with it.

"I have to tutor right now, but I would like to see those videos. I'll text you and tell you when I am done with my art class," she decided, slipping out of the car before her companion could light the cigarette, and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "See you later, Sammy."

Comparative politics had always been one of her best classes, so it made sense to help people out. Besides it looked good on her record to be a teaching assistant and a tutor on top of it all. The only trouble was the kids who came in for help didn't often put forth the effort to actually learn anything. Surely if they just took the time to listen to her, they wouldn't be failing the tests.

"The, after Vargas was ousted in 1945, we move onto what is known as the Second Republic which lasted from approximately 1946 to 1964. Important figures to remember for this section are Dutra, Vargas, Lubitschek, Quadros, and Goulart. Does everyone remember who they are? Because they will definitely be on the midterm which is coming up soon." The ones who showed only because their academic advisors told them to didn't respond, while those who were actively listening nodded, some writing down or circling their names.

One such attendee, Magdalena Rosales, was of particular interest to Elvis. Sammy, who worked for the student life department of the university, was a reliable informant who enjoyed relaying information about the more interesting of the student body. Magdalena received the school's highest amount in individual scholarship, and was a trophy winning competitive dancer who was currently on the school dance team. It seemed reasonable, then, that she would know the fastest way to get to the recreation center.

Striding up to the student's desk, Elvis placed a hand on the tabletop to get her attention. "Magdalena. Can I ask you a question?"

Magdalena looked up quickly, and nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

"You dance at the recreation center, correct?"

The girl sat quiet for a moment, which struck Elvis as strange. It really was a simple question. "I do, I teach a dance class. It's a children's class though, I'm sorry," she replied finally, standing up from her seat. Elvis smiled, realizing she was in the company of a fellow educator and moved closer to help her with her bag, but before she could the girl picked it up and swung it in front of her in a manner that struck Elvis as odd.

"That is fine. I only wanted to know if you could tell me the fastest way to get there. I saw that they are offering a new art class and I'm rather keen on it." Magdalena's lips twitched slightly, like she was testing out different words that would be best for starting her sentence.

"Oh…well if you just go over to the edge of campus and follow Wilson until you get to South Coldwell, that's the way I usually go."

With the information fresh in her mind, Elvis hurried back to the table at the front of the room to write it down before it had a chance to fall out her ears, and then began tossing things into her bag.

"Are you leaving now? Then we could walk there together."

Magdalena once again took much too long to answer a simple yes or no question. Maybe that was why she was in tutoring, the timed essays would probably be rough for her.

"Ah, uh, I don't think so, sorry. I have to go change anyway, and then I usually ride my bike over. I'm sorry. See you later, though!" Elvis' smile faded, but she shrugged off the disappointment as she left the room. She had everything written down, she reasoned, she didn't need the company any way.

September 30th, 4:00 PM-

Magdalena's directions were simply enough, and after a quick pitstop to drop off her school things she headed out on her way. Heads turned towards her briefly as she strode down the sidewalk with her hands balled up in her pockets, quickly looking away as the girl's dark eyes caught those of the passing strangers. Following the path a little ways further, the center soon came into view framed by greenery and neat rocks. The picture on the website must have been taken from this exact same vantage point, because what Elvis saw now looked identical to the banner on the website, only the leaves on the surrounding forestry were beginning to erupt in fiery color now that summer was drawing to a close.

The only other difference between the scene before her and the photo was the girl Elvis spied sitting on a bench out front, an intimidating looking dog in a harness sitting by her side. The dog didn't seem especially big, but the closer she drew to the pair it grew big enough to set her on edge. The girl beside the dog with the dark glasses fiddled with something in her long pale fingers, what appeared to be a pair of headphones that she didn't bother to look at as she tugged at the knots.

Walking past the girl Elvis placed a hand on the door, only then realizing she didn't know where the art classrooms were. Looking back over her shoulder at the girl on the bench she swallowed to ease the tension in her throat, keeping a careful eye on the dog as she approached.

"Hello, miss." Both the girl and the dog turned their heads in her direction, and she locked eyes with the dark brown mutt, staring him down.

"Yeah?"

"I need the art classroom. Do you know where the art classroom is inside?" she questioned, looking back at the glass doors that lead indoors. She knew her sense of direction was bad enough that it was a risk wandering around in an unfamiliar building, just the thought made a small stirring of anxiety rise up in her chest. She wouldn't want to miss her art class because she was busy panicking elsewhere.

"Oh, yeah. Just go inside, there's a railing and if you follow that around the staircase the classrooms are down the hall to the right," the girl directed, turning her head back forward and hunching over the headphones in her lap and giving a few stubborn tugs on the cords. Elvis took a step closer, being mindful of the dog, and gently taking the girl's hands in her own to take a look at the headphone tangle. She was close, it wouldn't take much longer to get it undone. Deftly she plucked the tangled mass from her hands.

"Hey, what are you doing? Give those back!" the girl demanded, holding her hand out insistently.

"I will give them back." Elvis promised, already having loosened the knot to the point that she could pull the other pieces through. It was then it dawned on her that she hadn't even asked the girl's name. That was something she was supposed to do, after all. "What's your name?"

"It's Liselotte. People usually just call me Liz."

"Thank you for your help, Liselotte. My name is Elvis." Liselotte furrowed her brow in confusion, and immediately Elvis anticipated the words she was about to utter.

"…That's—"

"An interesting name for a girl, I know." Elvis quipped, having gotten the comment more times than not. "Are you blind?"

"Yeah."

"Have you always been blind?" she asked, gripping a part of the cord gently in her teeth to loosen one last knot.

"No."

Elvis fiddled with the last of the mess, her eyes flitting from her project back to the perky eared brown dog. "Does your dog bite?"

"No, he's very well trained. He's a service dog they aren't allowed to do that kind of thing." A service dog? She hadn't ever met one in person before, she supposed then he couldn't be that bad.

"That's good. Here, now I've helped you," she said proudly, setting the now tangle free headphones in Liselotte's open palm. "It was nice meeting you."

The girl, Liselotte, didn't seem like she had much to say, so Elvis quickly departed and headed indoors, following the new directions straight to the room where the class was. The instructor sat perched in the front of her room, and Elvis introduced herself for the second time that day, expressing interest in the class. Upon learning there were open spaces available, she paid the class fee without question and took an empty seat in the back.

Other artists filed in, but before the class could officially begin the desks began to rattle across the floor, hopping along like little nervous rabbits as they skittered across the tile. Elvis tensed, feeling her chest begin to construct as the noise of the rattling desks grew louder. Everyone looked about the room frantically for the source of the rumbling, and as the shaking strengthened it became apparent it was an earthquake, albeit one unlike anything anyone present had experienced. People in the room began to panic, talking in quick high pitched voices and Elvis slithered smoothly out of her chair and onto the floor, hooking her arm around the leg of her desk to keep it over her head as the clatter of falling supplies, the rattling of the metal desk legs, the rumbling of the earth and the chatter of the fellow students all swirled together, cluttering her mind.

She drew her knees close.
She covered her ears.
She closed her eyes.
She shut out the world.