fandomhighdorms | 2nd Floor Common room, Wednesday After Clubs

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2nd Floor Common room, Wednesday After Clubs

Valentine was partaking his his usual, 'hello world, I'm bored and attention deficit' pastime.
He was lounging on the common room couch, bowl of popcorn in his lap, and flipping through the channels without rhyme or reason.
His important discovery of the day was that sometimes, the dialog would piece itself together in new and amusing ways.
"Oh, Pete, I never realized that--" someone on a soap opera would croon until he switched the channel, "--the female hyena was often confused for the male because of their pseudo--" click "Oscar Mayer Weiner! Everyone would be in love with me!"
He was having a grand old time.

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"Ever since I had to find something to do to keep myself fed," Valentine agreed with a nod, looking into his mug as if daring it to burn him again. "Didn't have to be so good at it when I was a kid. So long as it was cute, people would feed me. Now, and i don't mean to brag, but I would like to think that I'm something of a professional at it."
He did mean to brag, of course.

Of course.

Turtle blew on her hot cocoa a little. "I'd like to see it. If you've been doing for so long, you must be good by now."

Valentine was already setting down the bowl and mug and was digging through his pockets for his juggling balls- the crocheted ones that River had made for him for his birthday, today, not the orange ones that he usually used.
The crocheted ones were specifically for showing off.
"Valentines are among the best," he said, still sitting on the couch as he started to throw the balls into the air.

Turtle shifted in her chair a little bit to get more comfortable as she settled in to watch.

It was unfortunate that the juggling set he had gotten from River only had three balls to it, but he made a note to show off as best he could with them before reaching into his coat and pulling out some of his orange balls to supplement his act and bring the ball count to five.
"See, there now, not many people can juggle five. I made it to nine once, but that was a moment of insanity and I don't know that I'd be so anxious to try that again."

Turtle grinned as the ball count increased. "What about eight?"

Valentine considered for a moment, then grinned as well. "Eight might be doable, but I'll have to stand up." He smirked. "For a promise that you'll never kick me again, I'll do eight."

Turtle snorted. "I'm not that desperate to be awed. Earning exemption from kicks is not something to be taken lightly, you know."

"Gentler kicks, then. I'll juggle eight for future exemption from large bruises." Valentine was the bargaining sort. He'd figure something out. After all, juggling was his livelihood, and he couldn't just go about doing it for free.

Turtle considered this carefully. "Would there be any leeway for something that, perhaps, might be so terrible that it would break the boundries of this gentler kick restriction? I'm reluctant, should something surface that really, really, really deserves you limping for a week..."

"Well," Valentine tilted his head in thought, "I suppose, were there some sort of line that was set in advance to ensure that we both know what is worthy of limping and what isn't, then yes, there could perhaps be a bit of leeway."

Again, Turtle paused for consideration. "But it's always so hard to tell; you could do something so terrible that my mind can't even concieve of it yet...On the other hand, though, if something like that did happen, I suppose I could always resort to alternate forms of revenge other than kicking, but you have to admit, kicking is such a nice, swift, easy way of handling a situation...."

And, once more, Valentine took a moment to absorb this and to sift through his possibilities. "If I do something that is indeed that terrible, then I imagine that a mere kick wouldn't be proper retaliation anyhow, and it would become a moot point."

"Oh, a kick can always be proper retaliation," Turtle nodded. "But, okay. Eight balls and you're entitled to gentler kicks, and, if you really piss me off, I'll just have to be creative about it."

Valentine seemed rather satisfied with this compromise and promptly got to his feet, pocketing the crocheted set and producing a handful of the orange ones that he was more comfortable with.
"Alright, then. If I can pull this off, I'm holding you to it."

Turtle nodded. "If you can pull it off."

If Valentine was sweating a little, it was because he knew that, although he had the ability to pull it off, it was still just one ball under nine and still rather an insane thing to attempt.
"I've no doubt that I can," he stated firmly, tossing a few of the balls into the air. "I am a very important man."

Turtle arched an eyebrow at the interesting little chant and silently decided that if Valentine failed, she'd make her kicks, should he earn them, a little harder.

"I have a tower," Valentine clarified as his ball count once again rose to five. "Which proves that I'm a very important man. That I can juggle eight balls and have no doubt of my ability to do so is simply icing on the cake."
Mmm. Cake.
He was up to six, now, waiting for just the right moment to reach into pick pocket to produce a seventh. It would take concentration.
Which, in retrospect, was easier to achieve when one wasn't babbling about towers.

Turtle watched closely, carefully and, most importantly, silently. She wouldn't want him to fail and then use her being distracting as a liability.

And, now!
Quickly ~~and silently, like ninja~~, Valentine grabbed a ball from his pocket and added it to the mix.
"Seven!" He was smiling rather broadly, now. One to go, and his shins would no longer spend their days in fear of her foot.

Turtle smirked, and bit back the urge to comment. He was doing really well; she had to admit she was pretty impressed. This could definately earn gentler kicks.

"And this," Valentine took a moment to brag, "is how I earn my living when I'm back home."
Well, it would be more impressive if he could find the right moment to snap up another ball and juggle it as well. "Might have to bounce a few to get the right opportunity to add the eighth in as well," he mused, trying to work out the best way for a guy with two hands to pull a stunt that really required at least three.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Turtle egged on with an amused grin. "Get on with it."

Clearing his throat and shrugging his shoulders slightly, Valentine nodded and did just that-bouncing a trio of balls from the floor and reaching into his pocket for another while he still only had four airborne balls to worry about.
Apparently three was one ball too many, and one of the bounced balls went skittering across the floor, leaving Valentine still with only seven balls.
He frowned.
"Well, that didn't work."

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