Room 323 [Saturday, Afternoon]

[comeoutwrong]

By mid-afternoon, it was getting a little too hot for her very pale British self to be anywhere outside (even if it was alligator free, now), so Effy was in the dorms, and in true antisocial spirit, in her own room. She hadn't honestly spent all that much time there since moving out of the cabins, so it was probably about time.

The door was open, which either showed some vague social improvement on her part, or possibly just that she was hoping for a bit of a breeze while she finally got around to unpacking properly. Probably the latter.

Anyway, there was that, and she was even occasionally pausing to get lost in her music for a minute. It was entirely possible she was happy in a less than natural sort of way.

It was a weekend, was there really any better way to spend her time?

[[Door and post are wiiiiide open!]]

Comments

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"You wanted the clarification," she said, shrugging and leaning back against her desk.

"And who says I'm not a poet?" She could be. You know, provided it didn't involve any of that emotional crap.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Recite me a poem," he said, waving a hand. "Let's hear it, then. If you're a poet, prove it."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"What, just spill my innermost poetic thoughts?" Effy shook her head. "Best you'll get is me throwing in some rhyming with my witty conversation."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"I just don't think you can," he decided easily. "Talk talk talk talk, no action."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"You were the one commenting on poetic potential," she pointed out, leaning back on her hands with a smirk.

"And I could, if I actually wanted to. Unfortunately for you, I don't feel the need to prove myself."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Now who's lazy?" he asked, walking over and stopping in front of her. "I'd probably laugh if you actually did recite some poetry. I got as far as 'roses are red, violets are blue' as a kid before giving that shit up for something more interesting."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"I prefer to call it 'making a point'," Effy replied easily. It was totally laziness, but at least she had a neat excuse for it. "I could probably break out a haiku if I thought I needed to."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"So, you won't recite poetry, you're not doing anything right now," he said, waving a hand at her, "and yet you could be having more fun? How, if someone performed for you?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Planning on entertaining with some interpretive dance?" she asked, raising an amused eyebrow. "It would brighten up my day."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Fat fucking chance," he said and made a face. "I don't dance. You can just put that little wish right out of your mind. Or go to a strip joint if you want dancing men."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Oh, it's staying in my mind," she told him, smirking upwards. "I can hope for it, whether you want me to, or not."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Jesus, at least pick something better to imagine me doing," he said and made a face. "I don't need to know that you're wondering how I fucking dance."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Got a better idea?" she asked, still looking amused. "Because I'm quite enjoying this one..."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Anything is better than that," he said, grimacing. "Pick one and I'll see what I can do."

Possibly dangerous.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Possibly.

"So, you're not a dancer. That make you more of a singer?" she asked.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

He just barely stopped himself from gagging. Just barely. "No, that makes me more of a nothing in that realm."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"That wasn't a stipulation," Effy pointed out. So smug, so so smug. "You promised you'd see what you could do."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"I've seen what I could do," he said and shook his head, "and I've decided I don't want to do it. Unfortunate, I know."

Singing, ew.

"Pick something else," he added. "And don't look so fucking smug."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"This is my normal look," she claimed. The liar.

"Know any magic tricks?" She was enjoying this rather too much. "Got a craving to have someone pull a penny out from behind my ear."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

He rolled his eyes, plucked his wallet out of his pocket, grabbed a penny and stepped close enough to get the penny somewhere in the vicinity of her ear.

And then he pulled it out. Yep.

"Look at that, fucking magic!"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Enough to make a girl swoon," she said dryly. "Really."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Oh yes, I know," he said and flicked the penny at her. "Did it get you to stop imaging the dancing?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Not really," she answered truthfully, only flinching back a little as she put her hands out to catch the coin. "Image was a little too good to let go of. Sorry."

She really wasn't sorry, surprise surprise.

"You want to try again?"

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

Truthfully, he didn't care all that much about the imagined dancing. He didn't care at all. But, it was about competition and amusement to him.

"Sure," he said after a moment. "Pick something else."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Juggle?" she suggested. "Or, can you breathe fire or some fun shit like that?"