Room 323 [Thursday, Afternoon]

[comeoutwrong]

Most days, Effy found issues could be pretty easily buried. She was practiced, good at it, and spending time away had helped. Skiing wasn't her, snowboarding, hot tubbing, relaxing. It wasn't really her. Actually it was easier not being her.

But. Reality had slowly leaked back in, and there were days like today, when she let her guard down and dreams of other places slithered in and got comfortable and brought friends, and bothered her. A lot.

Without class today to take her mind off things, she had to make her own entertainment. Shift her focus away from whatever shit was taking up space in her mind. No, today she had a... project.

Effy could be surprisingly productive when she was thrown into the right -- or possibly wrong, mental state. She should probably be considering what Peter would think of her new decorative impulses. Whatever. It was a little marker pen, and on her side of the room at least.

[[Door and post are open, Effy is... weird.]

Comments

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

So, there was a dance in a few days and Alex was the president of the student council (that was still weird) which meant he kinda had to show. Was it really a surprise that he'd wander up a floor to see if Effy was gonna show?

When he appeared in her door, he had a smart comment on his lips that stayed there when he saw what she was busy with.

"Today arts and crafts day?" he finally asked, trying to both get her attention and get an explanation.

[Work blah blah possible SP blah blah but still!]

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy hesitated briefly, "Something like that," taking a moment to finish off part of a word while she replied. "I... got bored." There was her idea of an explanation for him. Boredom and issues led to crazy-art.

"Any good with a pen?"

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"You got bored?" he asked, taking that as an invitation to wander inside and peer a little more closely at the art. "I'm decent with a pen. Depends on what you need. Need someone stabbed? I'm good at that."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Not today." Today she at least wasn't planning on incorporating blood and gore into her artistic experiment. For once she'd gone the far the less creepy route.

"Pornohette," she told him, offering the pen with a smirk.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"What brought this on besides boredom?" Alex asked, taking the pen and raising an eyebrow. "Don't you usually smoke or sleep or go stare at people creepily when you're bored?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Usually." But there were days for that, and days where that didn't quite do it. She hitched an uneven shrug and stepped back. "I just... needed to do something."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"All right," he said, moving to take up some space beside her. In a few moments, he might ask about why she needed to do something but not just yet. "What am I supposed to draw? Not sure what the concept here is and I barely draw stick figures with any real skill."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"It's not really drawing," Effy pointed out. Most of the outline was there. It was just a case of filling in. That and a little bit of creativity when it came to words.

"Just be dirty. Good at that, right?"

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"How could you even ask me that?" Alex asked, pretending to be oh so offended. "When am I not good at being dirty? I'm even dirty in my sleep. My dreams are dirtier than the dirties fantasies."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Well. You seemed... hesitant," she noted, a little amusement creeping in at his offense. "Not like you."

She shrugged again, leaning back against her desk to watch what he did. "Had to check."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"I wasn't hesitant, I was inquisitive," he corrected, tapping his pen against his cheek. "I didn't wanna jump in and ruin your art. I was fact gathering before volunteering my services."

That was a load of bullshit but bullshit was what he did best sometimes.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy huffed a little laugh. "Didn't volunteer either. I volunteered you." At this point, she was assuming he was buying thinking time.

"Think I need the perfect dirty word from you?" She was starting to scrape the barrel a little herself at this point.

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"I like it," Peter said, entering the room and plopping down onto his bed unceremoniously. "Very modern. Very now."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"What I was going for." Or... not really? But whatever. He didn't seem to care that she was writing on their walls.

"If someone can call their unmade bed art--" Then hers was looking good.

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"Exactly," Peter said. "Hell, you could be doing the whole thing in dog poo and it'd still be able to be called art."

He paused for a moment, kicking off his shoes. "But that I'm not gonna recommend, because it'd be gross and stink up the room."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Check. No painting the walls with shit." Luckily, she agreed with him. Disgusting. "But kinks. A-okay by you?" Not that it would change much if he said no, but-- The thought was there.

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"I'm not a judger, or an art critic," Peter said. "And really, it's your wall. You can do whatever you want with it."

Hell, he could think of more than a few worse things she could do and he'd let her do those, too.

"Sorry about the whole being a dog thing part of Monday. If you noticed."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

No, she hadn't really noticed. "Figured you were a girl and in hiding," Effy admitted. Radio hadn't exactly been top of her agenda lately. Apparently she should change that.

"Missed quite a weekend."

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"Oh yeah, I was both," Peter said. "I guess I was a real bitch too, at least for part of the day."

He paused.

"Forget I ever said that."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy let out a short snicker as she recapped her pen. "I never forget," she replied, shaking her head.

"Might have to add it to your list."

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"My list?" Peter said. "My list of what?"

He was slightly worried.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Naughty or nice," she said, smirking and leaning back against her desk. "I'll send it to Santa later."

Or, you know, share with Emma. Who probably already knew without Effy needing to tell her. But whatever, she took her amusement where she could.

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"You know, I never pictured you as one of Santa's little helpers," Peter said. "You do realize now I'm imagining you wearing one of those little green outfits with the pointy hat."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"How'd I look?" Ridiculous, probably.

[njeuzanh.livejournal.com]

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