Morrigan Faye, shock of shocks, actually showed up that day. She regretted it immediately. Her head felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton, her legs and back ached, and the rakish green scarf she had draped around her neck was about as out of place on the uniform as wearing a sombrero or carrying a boombox on her shoulders. The scarf wasn't some ill-advised fashion statement, just the only thing she could think of to cover the gash along her collarbone, remnants of a near miss. 

Morrigan was exhausted, and she was pretty sure she had slept through part of the commencement. Her nightlife as The Crusader really ate into her sleep schedule, and the wounds didn't help matters. [i]So much for swim team.[/i] she thought to herself, her lip twitching into a lopsided grin. The scars and half-healed wounds dotting her body would make undressing before anyone an awkward affair at best. Visions of explaining that they weren't from cutting or abuse, the melodrama, ugh. The sheer thought made her cringe. Much like this ceremony did.

She hated being without her sword, but people gave you weird looks if you toted around a large duffel bag everywhere you went, a sentiment that also went with golf bags, violin cases, and longswords.

Abruptly she noticed one of the other students resting her head on her shoulder. She opened her mouth to snarl a "Get off me," and jam an elbow into the other girl's side, but a moment later the girl was awake and chirping away at some boy. She rubbed her shoulder, grinding her molars together, and rose to her feet. She thought about just bailing, she'd made her appearance, had an alibi if asked. She could go find a dark corner and catch up on her sleep, but instead headed up to go get her schedule for the year. She didn't care per se, but she needed to start prepping her excuses for not showing up.