fandomhighdorms | 2nd floor common room

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2nd floor common room

Hamlet's bored tonight. He's plopped himself in a common room, and flips channels, looking for something good on TV. There's not much on, so he settles on a re-run of Galaxy Quest: The New Adventures, and only half watches the show. It's better than doing nothing.

[OOC: Open if you have any burning common room needs.]

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He nodded. "That would be him. Duo's my roommate and a good friend, so we might go to the prom together as ~~hetero life mates~~ friends. It's general custom to not go unaccompanied."

Macbeth did some more mulling.

"I don't really have anyone to take to the prom," he stated, glancing back toward the television. "I'm not entirely certain that's a bad thing."

Hamlet looks over at Macbeth. "Really? You could probably get a date were you to ask someone. I'm told that being a single, mostly-straight male is a very desirable quality right now."

The Scotsman looked back to Hamlet with an eyebrow raised, then shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I'm not so certain that being a single, mostly-straight~~(Was I ever crooked?)~~ widower is quite so desirable a quality..." He was quick to change the topic, "And I don't know many people, really. Where would I start looking? Stop a random female in the hallway? Put up posters? 'Wanted; one person to keep me company at Prom. Single mostly-straight male in need of date.'"

Hamlet shrugs at that. "Why not? I'm certain you'd get someone responding to that."

He pauses and then grins wickedly. "In fact, I'd even be willing to help you post that up all around the school."

"All around the school? I'm not even certain I want to go to the prom yet, lad!" Macbeth blinked... then pondered some more.
"Although I haven't been out much... it might do me some good...."

...

"And ye would help me put up these posters?"

...

"Maybe just one or two..."

"Oh, certainly! We'll even write up some very enticing text. 'Ladies, are you looking for a last minute date to the prom? Are you desperate enough to date anything young, male, and seemingly interested in women? Have we got the man for you! For a good time, contact Macbeth in room...' "

He paused. "What room are you in?"

"Three-Three-Three. Look, I'm not so certain this is the best idea..."

...

"Though I do need to get out more..."

...

...

...

"What do ye mean, 'seemingly' interested in women?!"

Hamlet ignores this last bit and carries on. "And we'll put it on a poster with an attractive picture of you -- do you have one, or would we need to take one? -- or perhaps put an ad on the radio, advertising your availability. It'll be wonderful!"

At this point, you might be able to tell that he's gone mad one or two times before.

Macbeth doesn't really notice that Hamlet's just a wee bit on the loopy side. Perhaps because he's just a wee bit out of his own mind as well.

"Wonderful, ye say...? Radio? Advertising? But..."

He really didn't have anything to say in protest. Which was a bad thing, depending on how one looked at it.

The slightly crazy Hamlet puts up a finger to shush Macbeth, pulls out his cellphone ~~which has never been mentioned before and likely won't be again~~ and makes a phonecall. He turns back to the Scotsman when he's done with the call and grins.

"All taken care of. Don't let anyone ever say that I don't care about the well-being of others."

This would be the point where Macbeth begins to worry, noticing that there's something mildly askew with his friend's mental health.

"Thank ye, Hamlet... I think..."

And he slooooowly rose to his feet, careful to not make any sudden movements as he glanced every now and again toward the door.

Hamlet leans his elbow on the side of the couch, and cradles his chin in his hand.

"Aww, you would want to leave me so soon? I'm sure we can come up with other equally interesting ideas to get you to meet more people."

His eyes light up. "Perhaps we could wrap you in fresh raw steaks, and let the local dogs or teal deer chase you? I'm sure someone would swoop in to rescue you in true heroic fashion!"

"Oh, nono, that's quite alright. Posters and whatever you told the phone-demon will suffice! Thank you, lad, I don't know if I'll ever be able to... uh... repay you... for this..."

He was now inching ever so slooooowly toward sweet freedom. The door was getting... closer....

Oh, he's on a roll now. He's not going to be sane tonight.

"Oh, that's alright. I have more than enough money sent to me by my Mother and painted devil that claims to be my Uncle-Father. I couldn't possibly take money from you."

"However..." he stands up and heads over to where Macbeth is inching towards the door and leans in close. He has a mad look in his eyes. "If you really want to meet people, what we really need to do is strip you down, cover you in pudding, and leave you in the middle of Fandom Town. No one would ever forget you!"

Macbeth is now desperately grasping for the door, the thane-in-the-witchlights look plastered quite clearly across his face.

"Ach! Would ye look at the time?! I totally forgot that I had some haggis cooking, and ye know just how testy those sheep innards can be if ye leave them cooking too long! I must be going, lad! ThankYeForEverythingNowGoodNight!"

And with that, his inching shifted to a manic scramble to the hallway and to freedom.

Sweet freedom.

Hamlet sticks his head out the door and waves to Macbeth in a half cheerful, half I-am-a-Danish-prince-who-is-totally-off-his-rocker manner.

"I'll see you around then! I hope you like the surprise I've booked for you! Enjoy your haggis!"

And then he goes back to gloomily watching TV like none of that ever happened.

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2nd floor common room

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