(Finally able to get the shy ranger to dance after drinking most of an Alchemy Jug of mead, a very intoxicated Warlock leads her out to the dance floor)
Ranger: (ooc) Do we have to make dance checks?
Paladin Bard: (giddly, ooc) Yeah, you do.
Warlock: I’m great at it. I’m GREAT, *GREAT* at it. I’m having a lot of fun and therefore my dancing is amaaaaaaaaaazing.
DM: Okay, so here’s how we’re going to rule this: make Acrobatics checks.
Ranger: Oh no.
Warlock: Yeah, but my Acrobatics do not showcase my–
DM: Shh. I’ll get you. I’ll get you.
Paladin: (to Warlock, ooc) Did you roll a Natural 1?! OH MY GOD.
Ranger: (happily) 14!
DM: Okay. Now, roll a Persuasion check.
DM: Okay. Everybody who’s sober, watching your dancing, realizes it’s fuckin’ terrible. However, [Ranger], being as graceful as she is, manages to keep up with your terrible lead. And you, through gusto alone, make a show of it anyway. It’s a disaster, but it’s a delightful disaster.
The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart
No longer the kind of girl to take “no” for an answer. Especially when “no” means she’s excluded from her boyfriend’s all-male secret society. Not when her ex boyfriend shows up in the strangest of places. Not when she knows she’s smarter than any of them.
And when there are so many, many pranks to be done.
Frankie Landau-Banks, at age 16:
Possibly a criminal mastermind.
This is the story of how she got that way.
Frankie appreciated both the accolades and the rejections equally, because both meant she’d had an impact. She wasn’t a person who needed to be liked so much as she was a person who liked to be notorious.