Second Floor Common Room, Early Saturday Morning

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine had been a chicken the other day in class. Really, that didn't bother him terribly.
He had lost his pants to his roomie's door. That was mildly disturbing, but he had done well enough wearing a bedsheet the past few days, so he would get over it.
He had a bruise forming on his shin from a well-delivered kick from what he had figured to be a panty-raid victim seeking vengeance. Again, disturbing, but he'd cope.
Sadly, what bothered Valentine the most about the past couple of days was that he had glued his hands together in Science! class in a fit of sheer brilliance. This had hindered his ability to do a great deal of things; to juggle, to prepare food, to flip mindlessly through the channels on the common room television.
The issue of the moment was that he was unable to open his dorm room door, and had been unable to do so since Thursday.
So, tonight, rather than going door to door and asking for assistance, Valentine had swallowed his pride, flicked on the television with his toe, and had fallen asleep on the couch with reruns of Criminal Forensic Detectives blaring in the background and with his hands still firmly clasped together.
Not his wisest decision, but it beat trying to plead for his roomie to let him in.

[ooc: Wake him up, draw on his face, laugh at the bedsheet- go nuts. He's practically asking for it anyhow. I appear to have run to bed! You're going to have to wait for me to wake up again if you want interaction now, mwaha.]

Comments

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

Lucas hadn't been a very social person since arriving in Fandom, but something called him to the second floor common room. That something was a search for breakfast cereal and poptarts.

He rummaged quietly (well, not so quietly) through the cupboards, found what he wanted, then grabbed a bowl, milk, a spoon and the box of poptarts and sat on one of the free couches in front of the TV.

He couldn't help but stare at the guy in the mask. Yes, this coming from the guy in the amazing technicolor bathrobe.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine's lips twisted into a bit of a scowl as he attempted to scratch at an itch on his shoulder and one hand insisted on following the other to perform the task. This, of course, meant that no itch was scratched at all, and Valentine flopped over unceremoniously in his exhausted attempt to smother the itch in the couch cushions.
Unceremoniously, however, didn't mean that his shoulder was anywhere by the couch at all. Actually, unceremonious meant that he wound up face-first on the floor instead.
He'd be feeling that one when we woke up.

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

Lucas watched as the masked guy fell on the floor and continued to stare while he poured his milk, unfortunately pouring a little too much and spilling it. "Oh, damn." He hurriedly went to wipe it up with the end of his bathrobe. "Uh, you okay?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

The reply might have been something along the lines of "Valentines are always okay," but it was rather difficult to tell, given that Valentine's face was rather implanted into the floor.
He'd be trying to get up at this point, honest, except that getting up while sandwiched between a couch and a table without benefit of separate hands is a challenge unto itself.

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

Lucas watched for a few moments, then put his things down and moved over to help Valentine up. "Here," he said, "Quit squirming."

[dark_slippy_thing]

"But squirming is something that apparently I do so very well," Valentine halfheartedly protested as he allowed the boy (yet another pink squishy face, ew) to help him out of his predicament. "Along with flailing, juggling, and gluing my hands together. Also, I've been informed that I make a very good chicken."
Talking himself out of embarrassment never did seem to work.

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I saw that in class. The hands thing. You did a great job there." He was being sarcastic, as Lucas was wont to do. "I can fix that, if you want me to." Lucas helped him sit up.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Yes, well, it was brilliant up until I clapped," Valentine muttered, leaning backward against the couch with a sigh. "If you can get my hands apart, it would be... greatly appreciated."
Not that he was actually asking for help or anything. That involved swallowing still more of his pride, and that was something that Valentine was not equipped to do.

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

"Sure. Wait here and I'll go get the stuff." Lucas disappeared upstairs and returned five minutes later with a small bottle of nail polish remover. It was really best not to ask why he had nail polish remover, because he'd just lie and say it was for scientific purposes because of the cyanoacrylate content. "Come over to the basin."

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine wasn't one to nitpick the cyanoacrylate-based possessions of others, especially given that his hands were currently fused together. And he was wearing a bedsheet. Sure, he was normally quick to roll his figurative eyes, but he figured this morning that he was setting the standard.
He heaved himself to his feet and headed over to the basin with a nod. "So, this stuff works, does it?"

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

"The cyanoacrylate breaks down the chemical bonds in the glue so it softens. Then you can wash it off." Lucas followed him to the basin and poured the nail polish remover over his hands. "There. Keep trying to work the glue loose by pulling your hands apart."

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine gave Lucas a stare that was perhaps slightly more blank than usual.
"Yes."
There were big words in that statement that he was certain were not English. Fortunately, he caught the last part, and he began to wiggle his hands, trying to separate his fingers first. He was gritting his teeth in utmost concentration.
"So, you sound like the sort that understands the scientific goings-on of this place," he said as he handwiggled intently. "Tell me, what does one have to do to kill a magnet, if only temporarily, so that one could... say... reclaim one's pants?"

[imissmydolphin.livejournal.com]

Lucas raised an eyebrow and gave that 'what kind of crack are you on?' look he gave most people. "You can demagnetize something by heating it, hammering it or putting it in direct contact with an alternating current." He stopped, put the nail polish remover down and turned on the water. "Hit it really hard with something else that's metal or heat it up. Just try not to set anything else on fire."

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

After Valentine got his hands unstuck (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomhighdorms/993062.html?thread=81243430#t81243430), he had to attempt to fend off a pounce.

"Valentine!!"

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Demyx!!"
Valentine flailed a little, revelling in the fact that he could actually flail yet again.
Ah, sweet, beautiful flailing.
The fact that he was pounced was also important, of course. But his hands? They weren't stuck together, and Valentine had odd priorities.

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

"Hi! Where've you been??" Then Demyx blinked. "Where'd your pants go?" Because pants, or lack thereof, was also important.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"I've been stuck outside of my room the past few days. Couldn't open the door," Valentine explained, giving Demyx a bit of a pat on the head. "The pants that you scrounged up for me are currently stuck on a different door, because my roomie is a psychopath."

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

Demyx tried to avoid the headpatting. "Not the hair!" he yelped. "...Your roommate stole your pants? That bastard! Let's kill him."

[dark_slippy_thing]

It took all of Valentine's willpower and then some to resist the urge to ruffle Demyx's hair. He managed with a grin, and poked Demyx in the pink fleshy forehead with one finger instead. "He didn't exactly steal them," Valentine said, not so thrilled with the idea of killing his roomie, as insane as the guy was. "They just had metal in them. So they're stuck to his super-magnetic door thingie."

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

"Super magnetic door? Huh. Let's go get them off, then!" Demyx punched his fist in the air. "We'll get your pants back!"

He paused, looking Valentine over. "Or," he ammended, "we could do things that don't require pants."

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine cleared his throat and suddenly seemed rather interested in the ceiling. "You might want to make sure that your own clothes don't have metal in them before deciding that retrieving my pants is a brilliant plan," Valentine said, looking upward and studying the light fixture. "I've been pantsless since the night after the dorm inspections- I think I'd rather like to have them back. I've been told that if I beat on the door with something large, heavy, and made of metal, I might be able to retrieve them."
Not that he had anything large, heavy, and made of metal to his name.

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

"But wouldn't something large, heavy, and made of metal just stick to the door and be unmoveable?" Demyx pointed out. "And I could always see about using my sitar." An instrument made entirely of water-made-solid couldn't possibly be affected by a magnet. Right?

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine shrugged and looked back at Demyx. "It isn't as though I know. The science stuff around here is totally beyond me. But that kid who uses big words told me that heat or pressure or hitting it with metal would work, and I assume he knows what he's talking about."
He sighed and straightened his bedsheet. "Besides, there's the issue of getting to that side of the room in the first place. 6 has traps all over the place, and I'm not in the mood to go stumbling into another one."

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

"....6?" Demyx boggled. "ZEXION is here!? You room with him!? NO WONDER your pants are missing!!" He flailed. Hard.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine proceeded to stare long and hard at Demyx. "Zechswhaty?"
He was pretty certain that there had been some sort of misinterpretation somewhere. Though he was curious as to what made it a 'no wonder' sort of thing.