fandomhighdorms | Fifth floor common room, Friday afternoon (after workshops/music festival)

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Fifth floor common room, Friday afternoon (after workshops/music festival)

Warren had decided, in light of the phone calls he'd received and what he assumed was going on, that the only thing to do was the old "if you can't beat them, join them" thing and start prank calling people at random.

Of course, what was really going on just made it all even more random. . . .

Still, it wouldn't do any good if people couldn't see that he was being cool and hip and following the trend, so he was out in the common room while he did it, stretched out on the couch with his cellphone to his ear and the town directory on his lap.

Fun times, my friends, fun times.

Of course, while he was there, he got another voicemail, and that just needed a real reply. Seriously.

[ooc: post is open (with very small OCD)! An' if you want to be around to actually answer one of Warren's random phone calls, ping in in the thread to have ze conversation. . . . Whether he's left you a voicemail or not. Feel free to call him there, too . . . .]

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"Sometimes," Zuko said unbothered as pink was a kind of red and an acceptable colour in the Fire Nation. "Who is this?"

"Um, this is, er, Buddha. To achieve Nirvana, you must go against your nature. . . . And wear blue!"

"I AM NOT A WATERBENDER!" Zuko shouted down the telephone and wondered if he could firebend through the telephone line. It was a matter of directing the energy.

Warren held his phone away from his ear and blinked rapidly. "Um, of course not. I, as Bhudda, know this. However, to reach your ultimate destiny as a . . . not-a-water-bender . . . you must wear at least one small piece of blue. Yeah."

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MY ULTIMATE DESTINY?" Zuko wasn't going to lower his volume at all. There was no way wearing blue was going to help him get his honour and his throne back.

Woooooooah. "I'm Bhudda, I know all. . . ."

"No one knows everything! Not even the avatar!"

"Do not doubt the wisdom of the Bhudda. Look, it doesn't have to be a very BIG piece of blue whatever. It could be, like, a little bracelet you hide under your sleeve. Just as long as it's blue and you're wearing it. . . ."

"I am NOT wearing blue," Zuko snapped. "You wear it. Watertribe lover."

"Bhudda wears all the colors. Dude, you're seriously refusing to wear it because it's the color of water? It's the color of the air, too, you know . . . and fire needs air in order to burn."

"We dealt with the airbenders a hundred years ago, if you know everything you should know that too. Now stop wasting my time," Zuko growled. Apparently he was too stubborn to hang up first.

Well, Warren sure as heck wasn't going to be the first to hang up.

"I did know that. And I disapprove. You shouldn't have done that, you know, and now the wearing of the blue in order to attain your ultimate destiny is your punishment. . . ."

"UNLESS YOU ARE FIRELORD YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY SAY OVER ME!" Zuko was getting really worked up now.

"Oh, I'm the Firelord, alright, and the Waterlord and the Airlord, and the, um, Earthlord, too. I'm the lord of all things. I'm the Bhudda."

It was a good thing Warren wasn't Bhuddist, or he'd be surely going to hell. Or whatever the Bhuddists had instead of hell. Anti-Nirvana. All desire, all the time. . . .

"You are full of it!" Zuko snapped, running out of patience and slamming down the telephone. And then he stomped out of his room to go find that Buddha wise-ass.

Warren blinked at the dial-toning phone.

"That might have been a mistake. . . ."

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Fifth floor common room, Friday afternoon (after workshops/music festival)

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