The hallways, Wednesday night

[forgottenpants]

Pete didn't do idle well. Thus, having not yet been introduced to television or the wonders of the internet, he was skulking about the hallways, making a mental map of all the entrances and exits and good places to hang random traps.

And generally looking like he just might be up to no good.

Possibly, he was planning to torture the students by singing.

She'll be comin', comin', coming, comin', comin,
Row-hound that mounTAIN! When she comes,
Oh when she comes, when she comes,
She'll be comin'! (comin'comin'comin'comin')
Round that MOUNTAIN when she comes,
(Oh well, when she comes. . . .)

[ooc: dance for me! er, I mean, open!]

Comments

[forgottenpants]

"That is a damned shame."

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

. . .

"Although if you're really into that, Google is your friend."

[forgottenpants]

"Google. What the hell is google?"

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

"Web search engine," Conner explained. "Just type in whatever you're looking for and it'll find you results."

[forgottenpants]

"How do I get it to stop? Where are the tracks?"

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

"Not that kind of --" Conner sighed. "It's magic too."

[forgottenpants]

"Ah. I see."

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

"You know, you take this whole 'magic' explanation amazingly well."

[forgottenpants]

"I'm sure it all has to do with the orb which means frankly I don't want to know any more about it."

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

The music switched to something with ear-piercing synthesized backing, the sort of thing that compelled you to dance along in a bizarre hip-gyrating way. Conner, evidently, was compelled. Unwittingly, which explained his utter lack of shame.

"I don't know anything about an orb, but I totally agree with that approach."

[forgottenpants]

Pete winced at the new music and nearly dropped the computer. "Now that is just unnatural!"

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

Conner grinned and waggled his eyebrows, still grooving in a scary way. "Oh, yeah. Totally."

[forgottenpants]

Pete hurriedly set the computer down and backed away from it, pointing a shaking finger from it to Conner and back. "Make it stop!"

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

"Why?" Yep, still scary-grooving. "This song is awesome!"

Conner relented when he realized he was actually freaking the guy out, though, and turned the volume way down. "There. Better?"

[forgottenpants]

"Much. I . . . should go away, now. Far, far away from that . . . ruckus."

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

Conner checked out the artist (if you were generous enough to call it that) on his playlist and made a mental note to put all her stuff onto a playlist he was going to call "Weird Out-of-Tune-Guy Repellent."

"You sure?" he asked, subtly turning the volume back up as he spoke. "You should see the video . . ."

[forgottenpants]

"Is it anything like that other thing you had on there?"

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

"Not really, actually."

[forgottenpants]

"Then I do not want to see it."

[connernotconnor.livejournal.com]

Conner shrugged. "Your loss, man."