Arcane Symposium, Part Four

It takes everything I have not to fall into a coma.

I'm staring down at a textbook I didn't even know I still had in my drawers. My pink platforms are kicked off somewhere near the door, and I'm sprawled across my tiny couch in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and some lacy underwear, with the fan on right next to me, like it was looking over my shoulder at the textbook. Unfortunately, I can't exactly appreciate how good I look with all this info breaking my brain. 

[Who knew being the baddest bitch in magical history would involve so. Much. Fucking. READING? Fuck!]

With my stamina at 0, I melt, briefly turning into a puddle on the couch. 

But, this puddle has to pick herself back up, unfortunately. The Arcane Symposium isn't just about throwing hands in magical duels (as much as I wish it was). There's this whole theory portion first, and if I bomb that? The rest won't even matter.

After all, I'm not looking to just do good. I want to do amazing.