...Yeah, Carmela is taking the day off today.

After a phone call to her brother to check that no, he had no idea what was going on and he couldn't fix it, she remembered it could be a Fandom thing.

So here she is, sitting in the food court with a plate full of blue-food-cube things, boy (or at least, analogous-to-the-male-gender)-watching and idly twirling her cell phone in one hand as she debates calling Ronan to see what he's up to.

[ooc: open for phone calls if you so wish! or for anyone who might happen to be on Rirhath B.]

In retrospect, it's really not all that surprising that Carmela breezed through what should have been weeks of training in a matter of days. The fact is, training was boring, and Carmela and boring just don't get along well.

So here she is, armed with her shiny new employee Worldgate pass, sitting in the part of the Crossings that was roughly analogous to Earth food courts and randomly poking at a plate of blue cubes while she waits for a Portalocity portal to drop off a certain cunning linguist.

[ooc: For the aformentioned cunning linguist. Being one myself means I get to make that joke as much as I want, hah.]

Carmela frowns down at the readout on her copy of the Plane Gazetteer: ERROR

"Could you maybe be a little more specific, there?" she demands, giving the thing a shake.

REDEFINE QUERY. Sure, it had been designed to respond to verbal commands as well as typed (not everyone had the same number of digits, or hands at all) but there are still issues with colloquial speech on occasion.

"Why am I getting an error?"

INSUFFICIENT CREDIT TO PERFORM TRANSIT

"Insuffic- ohhhh, frak. Why me?" Carmela groans.

REDEFINE QUERY.

"Oh shut up."

The screen promptly goes blank.

"That's not what I- never mind, I'm talking to a piece of hardware that's busy taking a nap," she grumbles, tucking said piece of hardware away in one of the many pockets of her lime-green cargo pants. She then looks up to find a couple of Station Security personnel headed her way. "Oh, hey guys, what's up?" She tries for casual.
( 'Boss wants to see you.' )
[ooc: eeeeestablishy.]

There's a *pop* of displaced air and Carmela finds herself... not at DC's Union Station.

"Who, wha- HEY!" she says indignantly, having spotted Kit, who looks far too pleased with himself to be innocent in this scenario. "What did you do?"

"Rerouted your transport," Kit says innocently. "Mama wanted you to spend some time at home as long as you were on Earth, and then Sker'ret called to let me know you were on your way, and, well..." he shrugs.

"I was *planning* on coming over *after*, you know," Carmela rolls her eyes. "My birthday's on Monday. You think I was gonna miss that?"

Kit, at least, has the good grace to look sheepish. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry?"

"You owe me, squirt," Carmela says, giving him a pointed look. "Big time."

[ooc: establishy because 1) I suck and forgot to do something with her in April and 2) I won't have time to throw her in Fandom till tomorrow)]

Carmela Rodriguez? Is on the planet of the catboys. Well. Catpeople. Well, okay, they're not really cats since cats are from Earth, but they do have adorable little pointy ears, and tails, and Ronan had restocked her stash of the good chocolate, and she is totally going to introduce her new friend Eshrivash to the wonders of grenfelzing tonight.

Or so she thinks.

[ooc: open for those horrible interrupting types.]

It is not actually New Year's Eve on the planet that Carmela Rodriguez is currently staying on. Leaving aside the fact that its people don't celebrate the new year in any case, it's currently the middle of the seventh month in a thirteen-month calendar.

Not that that stopped her at all from convincing her friends that there needs to be a party tonight.

And so a party there is, with music, drinks, and dancing, though not of any kind familiar to the majority of people from Earth.

Carmela is in the middle of learning a particular dance that really, she should have a third arm for in order to perform properly, when a Demisiv walks through the door.

Those unfamiliar with the Demisiv might have trouble telling one from another, looking as they do like trees, but this particular Demisiv's branches were adorned with hanging garlands and baubles of all sorts, and even a set of merrily twinkling lights. And he's wearing a baseball cap.

"Filif!" Carmela calls out as soon as she catches sight of him, running over to ruffle his branches (not dirty). "You look adorable," she compliments.

"Dairine helped me choose them," Filif informs her. "Do you really like them?"

"I do," Carmela nods. "You look very properly festive. Now come on, I've got some friends you need to meet!"

[ooc: OH GOD INTERNETS I'VE MISSED YOU. Mostly establishy, but she does have a very good cellular roaming plan.]

Carmela's mind's been made up for weeks now about what she's going to do after graduation. The stack of thick envelopes from a handful of different universities lie unopened on her desk, and while most of her things had gone back with her brother following graduation weekend ("I'm a wizard, not a pack mule!" he'd protested initially), there was still quite a lot of, well... stuff... to pack up.

At the moment, she's taking a break from packing and lying sprawled on her bed with the laptop, looking through torrent websites for a new anime to watch.

[ooc: last post in Fandom! Door and post are open.]

Carmela's reviewing some of the stuff from the language club earlier when her phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Carmela," her mother's voice, sounding quite exasperated, came over the other end of the line. "I hope you don't have plans for this weekend, because you need to come home."

"Mama?" she asks worriedly, because a vague request like that isn't her mother's style. "What's going on?"

"The television," her mother says. "Has gone on strike. Again. I need you to talk to it."

"Jeez, Mama, that's hardly the end of the universe or whatever," Carmela replies. "And anyway, isn't that kind of thing Kit's job? His 'speciality' or whatever?" ...Suddenly Carmela finds herself kind of missing Mr. Leonhart's class.

"The stupid thing is taking the rest of the house with it. We've had no electricity for *two days*. Except for the fridge, which Kit says is refusing to join up, bless it... I just said 'bless it' in reference to a kitchen appliance. I'm going loco. And don't think your brother *tried* to talk some sense into it. He did. Apparently it misses you," Carmela could practically *hear* her mother's eyeroll.

"All right all right," Carmela sighs. "I'll be there as soon as I can find a cat who'll let me take a 'gate."

They say their respective goodbyes, and after hanging up the phone, Carmela throws some clothes in a bag and heads off. Television on strike. Seriously.

[ooc: establishy, as I'm about to be off to catch a boat.]

It's just past an ungodly hour when Carmela makes her way over to the Callahan's to visit Ronan. So really, it's more of a ridiculously early hour. Especially for a holiday.

"Hey everyone! Niiiiita! Dairiiiiine! Rooooonan!" she calls out, upon entering the kitchen- because why on Earth would she knock and wait to be let in like normal people? "Is anyone awake? I've got presents!"

[NFB due to distance, NFI unless you happen to be in New York at the moment. Er, *this* version of New York.]

Carmela stands outside the door to Umbridge's office, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed as she waits for her partner-in-crime.

"About time," she says with a mischievous grin as he approaches. "Let's do this thing."

[ooc: for he who knows who he is, and NFB for great sabotaging secrecy.]