Hello. You've reached the voicemail of the office of Zoe Washburn. If you need to make an appointment to see the principal, please leave a message after the beep, and an appointment will be arranged for you. Thank you.

*BEEP*

[Leave a message here if you need to/want to come in and see Zoe, and we'll work out a time for her to be in her office. All messages will be screened, but IC messages will be unscreened unless otherwise noted.

In creating this journal, the author has assumed the identity of a fictional person for use in the role-playing game fandomhigh, for the sole purpose of entertainment, without intending to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud either the person who created the fictional person, or any reader of this content. The author does not purport to be the creator of the fictional person, or to be affiliated with the creator, or with any person or entity with an interest in the fictional person. The author does not claim to be the person who is being used as the graphical representation of that fictional person, nor intend to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud that person by use of their image.]

You've reached the voicemail of Zoe Washburn. I'm not available right now, but if you leave your name and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Anyone peeking into Zoe's office might not have too much trouble noticing that she wasn't in the best mood. She was rummaging around in her desk and her file cabinets to get things ready for the upcoming influx of new students, muttering all the while about broken cabins and students who needed to learn to keep their pants on.

[She's expecting two cabin breakers, but the door is open.]

Zoe had headed back to the house a little earlier than usual, knowing full well that she wouldn't last a whole day in her office away from John. She tried to be quiet as she went inside, partly to try to surprise John, and partly because she was hoping Grace might be down for her nap. It was possible that whatever was going on was making her vastly optimistic, and not just full of desire for her husband.

As tempting as it was to stay home, Zoe knew she couldn't let her whacked-out hormones keep her from her job. If her paperwork and daily duties took longer than usual while she got mentally distracted, well, she had a feeling from the radio broadcast last night that people would understand.

[Door and post are open!]

It was a beautiful day on the Isle of IKEA, flowers rising high between the pieces of Swedish furniture. The flags flickered happily in the afternoon sun, and even the island's usual silence was broken by the arrival of some visitors - or customers, as the case would be. Cable's boots stalked firmly across the wooden boards, his fingers entangled with little Jan's. A gun was strapped to his back, but that wasn't anywhere out of the ordinary.

He needed toddler furniture. It was one of those days.

Zoe had opted for a stroller for Grace, and she'd left her gun at home, but she was on a similar mission on the Isle, searching for furniture that was childish, but not pink. Anything but pink would do, and while having Grace with her actually made shopping more complicated, Zoe figured that if a pretty, pretty princess gene had somehow managed to get passed down to her daughter, this would be the place to discover it.

Nathan Summers was much more for blue, himself. Blue and yellow. Which made his options even *more* limited. He was standing by an outrageously baby-blue bedframe, Jan's hands coming out to - almost religiously - touch the edge of it, when he noticed Zoe. He looked up. "Baby shopping?" he guessed.

He did not look like a man accustomed to baby shopping.

"Yes, we are," Zoe said, grinning and watching Jan with amusement. "It's amazing sometimes how much they need to just get by. I wouldn't have expected to see you here; you don't strike me as the IKEA type."

"I might as well make use of the isle seeing that it's here," he said, "Or it's my love of Swedish furniture..." Nate was going to work surveillance equipment into every inch of that bed.

As Jan touched it, a little flower sprung up, brilliant blue and yellow, all for her. She giggled.

"Is that a sign of approval?" Zoe asked as the flower came up. "I wish I could get commentary that was that concrete, besides the word 'no' over and over again." In the stroller, Grace was sitting quietly, like she knew now would be a good time to be on her best behavior.

"I think the Isle might have been left desolate for too long," Nate replied, considering it. More flowers were starting to grow around Jan's feet; some of them were settling alongside the stroller. "Interesting..."

Zoe took a step back, pulling the stroller with her, and more flowers sprung up to take up the space. "Is it just me, or does it seem like maybe this isn't the best time for shopping?" she asked.

"Might want to postpone it," Cable agreed, one hand going for Jan's, the other for his gun. "Move."

Sure, it was only a plague of flowers upon their children, but you could never know for sure.

Zoe wasn't quite as concerned, but it hadn't been long enough since Grace was taken that she was willing to take a chance on her safety. "I'm right behind you. Let's go."

And with that, they abandoned the Isle to its own affairs, even though a trail of flowers followed the children as they went. In their wake, the Isle of Ikea seemed to swell with great joy as every colour became more and more vivid.

Cable, predictably, didn't look back.

[Preplayed with the lovely, if paranoid, spring_lost. Establishy and NFB!]

In Zoe's defense, she actually had a good reason to be in her office today, although that didn't stop her from dealing with paperwork while she waited for Fiona. Today, "dealing with paperwork" meant taking all the pamphlets and files she didn't need anymore and giving them to Grace. Each piece of paper ended up in enough separate pieces that it was almost like having a real shredder.

[For Fiona and any moral support only please, unless there's an emergency!]

Zoe didn't usually come into the office on Saturdays, but then, she didn't usually get calls about late students being admitted to the school either. Wanting to make sure that the girl got settled in without trouble, Zoe waited in her office for her to arrive.

[For one, please!]

Zoe was in her office, making sure all of the last-minute details had been taken care of before the new students arrived. She'd thought about bringing Grace with her, to keep her close, but the store she'd gone to had been out of child leashes, and the clerk had said they weren't recommended for children under three years old anyway.

...you couldn't blame her for thinking it might be a good idea, could you?

[Door and post are open!]

With so many kids running around town, Zoe was certain that she had quite a few grandchildren out there - especially since she'd already met one, who'd made her determined that Grace wouldn't be allowed to date until she was thirty. She'd handwavily called the boys and told them to come by if they wanted to, and set out some kid-friendly food for whoever actually made it over.

[For any Winchester kids, friends of the family, or anyone else who has a reason to stop by.]

Thanks to the information the kids in the library had found, Zoe and Deadpool had managed to come up with the beginnings of a plan. This was why Zoe had grabbed the first gremlin she could find - the one that seemed to like hiding out by her office - and was glaring at it as they headed through town, as a warning to keep it from biting her or her companions.

No one had said it was a good plan.

"I appreciate you both agreeing to come with me," she said. "I figured strength in numbers would be the wisest way to go."

[For a few who know who they are.]

All of Zoe's usual paperwork had been shoved into drawers, and her desk was covered in books instead. She'd stolen borrowed some zombie-related material from John, and was trying to come up with a plan that didn't involve more students getting attacked. She wasn't even going to try to keep them all inside, but that didn't mean she had to be the one sending them to fight either.

[Door and post are open!]

The seemingly endless battle of principal vs. paperwork was still going strong, and for the moment, Zoe was winning. It helped that the school board hadn't bothered her about anything in a while, but then, she had a feeling that wasn't as positive of a thing as she was hoping.

[Door and post are open!]

Zoe was aware that things had gone a bit strange again this weekend, and she'd been keeping an eye out for signs of trouble - particularly from the two troublemakers she was related to. She was fairly certain that if any of the students had a real issue to be dealt with, she'd hear about it, so for now, she was just grateful that nothing happened to Grace. She took those kinds of small blessings where she could get them.

[For a certain weetiny pair!]

Zoe was sitting quietly at her desk, trying to compose a letter to the school board to decline the invitation they'd sent for some fancy gala they were throwing for no discernible reason. It was hard enough for her to get gussied up when she had to - she wasn't about to go through the trouble for people she didn't even like.

[Heh, for #51. Door and post are open!]

As much as Zoe longed to be back on the Crown Princess, she didn't so much mind being back at work. It was always more enjoyable for her when she got to do something interesting outside of her usual paperwork, and today, she had such a task: with spring break over, the school board wanted a detailed report on how the trip had gone.

Needless to say, she was leaving out all the weddings.

[And now I'm done spamming the flist. Door and post are open!]

Zoe had planned on only stopping by her office for a minute, but when she saw that her voicemail light was blinking, she sat down and listened to the message.

Sighing deeply, she called Marshall back, and then left a message for John so he'd know she was on her way home. When she saw that she still had more messages, she gave them a listen, and it wasn't until after she'd responded that she realized something was wrong in a very familiar way.

Oh, how she hoped that message had actually gotten to John, or she was going to have an unbearable week.

[Establishy, la!]

Zoe was certain there was something especially cruel about clothes disappearing at the same time as the weather got colder. She was getting by today with one of John's last shirts, tucked in and rolled up so she wasn't swimming in it, and was taking time before the assembly to make sure that all the student records were accounted for and complete. It was a good distraction from the current strangeness, and from thinking too hard about the radio broadcast from the night before. After all, Cable and Deadpool? That was the sort of thing that couldn't be mentally unseen.

[Door and post are open!]