fandomhighdorms | 3rd Floor Common Room; After Classes

3rd Floor Common Room; After Classes

Boooooored.

Up until Alphonse slumped back on the couch in the common room with a bag of chips found in one of the cabinets. He then flipped through the channels on the television, because apparently he didn't watch enough of it. He wasn't really sure what exactly was on, so he was just channel surfing every few moments or so. There was a textbook beside him in case he felt like being productive, but that obviously wasn't right now.

So, TV. Chips. Laziness. Just another Wednesday. Anyone was welcome to poke him.

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Anders chuckled. "I wish I could make 'em. I'd save myself a ton of money that way. Nah, this is just my little contribution to student morale. Apparently Jeff's gives frequent buyer discounts, though."

"Mmm, cupcakes," Ivanova grinned, snagging one and waving at the other new arrival.

"Hey," said Anders, waving. "Cupcakes are a universal language, I see. Lords, I suck, 'cause I can't place your name."

"Ivanova," she replied with a smile. "That makes me not feel so bad about not knowing yours either." She took a bite of the cupcake and melted in chocolatey yummy glee. "Who needs math and music when you have cupcakes?"

"Anders," he told her, grinning with amusement at her reaction to the cupcake. "Which is not my only name but that's the only one I share. And yeah, I'm totally with you on that math thing."

She waved a hand. "Math, physics, biology, we should scrap them all and just use a recipe for cupcakes for our first contacts." She took another bite, considering. "And pie. Definitely pie."

"Oooh. Pie." He nodded enthusiastically. "Sometimes alcohol works too, but there can be weird side effects. Maybe milkshakes . . ."

"Milkshakes, yes. Alcohol might not be such a good idea." Ivanova grinned. "There's this one race that Earth - well, my future Earth - is allied with, they cannot hold their liquor at all. Half a drop has them passed out."

"Half a drop?" Anders quirked an eyebrow, not sure whether to be impressed or surprised. "Wow, and I thought I was bad. Okay, so a couple glasses of ambrosia and I'm pretty useless, but still."

"Pansy," Ivanova taunted, but it was with a grin. "I'm Russian. Drinking is what we do."

"Hey," he objected with just as much of a grin. "I was on a whole strict healthy diet until I got here. Booze was never on the menu at home."

"Alcohol can be healthy," Ivanova protested. "Well, the good stuff. Water of life, dontchaknow."

"Oh, I believe you," Anders replied. "I mean, I don't know a lot about the details but I think I read something about wine being good for your heart? Convincing my dad, on the other hand, would've been a totally different story."

Ivanova nodded. "Ah. I see. My father was the same way." She grinned. "My uncles, on the other hand . . ."

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"Have you ever tried making some?" Alphonse grabbed at a cupcake and scooped a little of the icing off with his finger before he started to eat it. "I'm sure if I can make speghetti without it doing something wierd to someone, you could whip up a good batch yourself."

Anders snapped his fingers, pointing the index finger at Alphonse in an approving gesture. "You know, I think I might actually try to do that this weekend. Definitely not on my floor, though, 'cause there's frakkin' always people in the common room and I don't wanna have witnesses in case it gets humiliating. Or explodey." He scrunched up his face and pondered for a moment before adding, "Not that I've ever, you know, blown anything up yet while cooking? But I keep feeling like it's gonna happen soon."

"I'm pretty sure batter won't cause an oven to explode," Alphonse snickered. "On any normal occasion, anyway. And even if you did, it more than likely won't be as bad as, well... You know." He gestured around the room. "This floor isn't used much, so you'd probably be safe baking around here."

"Might have to do that then," replied Anders, pulling out his Palm Pilot and putting in a reminder to bake cupcakes on Saturday, plus putting cupcake makings on his shopping list. "And hey, you never know. I mean, my girlfriend has a talent for destroying toasters just by touching 'em."

He shook the Palm Pilot and cupped his hand under it before pushing the glowing blue button. "Jujubes?" he offered as the candies dropped into his palm.

"So I guess that rules out toast for breakfast, huh?" Alphonse finished off his cupcake, eyeing for another one. "Huh, actually, I've never met your girlfriend. I really need to get around more."

He eyed the candies in Ander's hand curiously. "Jujubies?" Alphonse picked one, looking at it between his fingers. "What kinda candies are these?"

"Um. They're sorta . . . kinda hard at first, but they get chewy after you work on 'em a little bit, I guess? A little weird if you're not used to them." Anders rolled them around in his hand and picked out a green one for himself, then sighed. "This place has been hell for my healthy diet, I swear."

"You and me both," Alphonse finally popped the candy into his mouth. "Huh, these aren't bad after all. Pretty good, actually."

"Yep." Anders eyed his Palm Pilot for about the hundredth time, still wondering where in hell the jujubes came from. "So anyway, how've you been, man?"

Alphonse waved his hand casually. "Nothing too terribly exciting. Classes, homework, the usual Fandom-does-something-completely-unexpected-at-you; the norm around here." He huffed a soft sigh. "I'm kind of hoping something happens around here soon. It's kind of wierd asking for something like that, but it does keep the place lively."

"It does," Anders agreed. "There's always something weird happening around here. I just happen to be lucky enough to miss out on it, most of the time. 'course, there was that whole random singing thing, and that was freaky."

He kicked his feet over the armrest of the chair thoughtfully for a moment. "That's right, you haven't met Cally yet. Huh. We'll have to fix that sometime. Maybe this weekend, when I do my big cupcake-making experiment."

"Oh, that," Alphonse vaguely remembered that day. "Yeah, I was wondering why everyone was randomly bursting into song. Kinda wierded me out there."

He then nodded. "Sure thing! I could probably help out and make sure nothing does explode," he joked. "I think one common room explosion was enough."

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