fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Friday Evening.

In a strange and startling turn of events, it would seem that Adah Price crawled from primordial depths (well, her bedroom, anyway, which, while quite dry and warm and nice, seemed to be taking on a murky, swamplike visage in her head today) to emerge herself once again on the front of possible socialization. She wondered if she should be concerned, and then reasoned with herself, as she shifted through a drawer for a can opener that she could manage with one hand, that there were reasons. Today, the reason was simply that of the fact that a girl had to eat. She was driven from the confines of as close to a hermitage as she could get for a simple, primal need. Yesterday also had its reasons, as she had come across the fairly busy pool entirely by accident out of not wanting to deal with the trouble of bundling up a little to go outside. Warmer weather aside, it had nothing on the sweltering Congo nights. They had their reasons and she was restless, anyway, wrestling a little finally with a simpler can opener that made quite a chore out of getting into the can of fruit swimming in sickly sweet syrup that would probably make her stomach rebel later, but it was food, it was (relatively) simple, and eating it directly out of the can as she curled up a little on the couch had become more familiar to her than other, conventional, American ways of preparing full, three-course meals.

She considered the TV, but then banished the thought once the thought of managing a remote control and a can of peaches would be more difficult than Adah wanted to bother with right now.

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"You could be hiding them," Cassandra explained helpfully. Not that she thought Adah was, but it was worth pointing out.

This was truth, of course. Adah would expect nothing less from someone named as the Prophetess was. In the realm of possibility were a great many things; that was, however, not one of them, although, all things considered, she would have to disbelieve Cassandra, just to keep up with the trend of the history as prescribed by the ancient Greek writers her roommate seemed to try to collect and possess in the fold of the books that she technically claimed ownership of. Adah sighed, slightly, drawing her eyes away for a moment before looking back, as if expecting something more if the other girl was going to remain there for much longer.

Edited 2008-01-26 04:20 (UTC)

Unfortunately for Adah, Cassandra wasn't really much of a conversationalist. Still, now that she was being social, she figured she'd try.

"I like marshmallows."

And, unfortunately for Cassandra, excepting certain situations, Adah's conversation skills were even worse. Her forehead creased between her eyebrows, eyes remaining steadily on the Prophetess, wondering exactly why she should care one way or the other on her feelings toward marshmallows. She was starting to think that some people, she'd swear, would talk to a wall, just to talk to something. Adah, it would seem, having eyes and the capability to breath, was just one step up from a wall, which was why she was getting the deep, intrepid, eye-opening conversation instead, clearly.

It was pretty obvious that Adah was not precisely thrilled to have Cassandra talking to her. Eying the peaches for a moment Cassandra asked, "Would you like more?"

While the worried, confused creases in her forehead remained, a small quirk of Adah's lips, the left side, which would have been an authentic smirk if it weren't for the expression already in place, Adah shook her head. Anything, talk to a wall, just to talk, klat ot tsuj. Like she was really going to bother accepting help even if she did want more.

The idea did, however briefly, strike her that the Prophetess of Tragedy was talking to her simply because she wanted to talk not just to talk, but to talk to her. But that was...well, ridiculous. The only reason she could think that would cause that to make sense was merely that Cassandra was a friend of River, which...

The smirk disappeared, just as a corner of Adah's mouth did as she bit her lip, looking at Cassandra and trying to fish out a hint of a motive behind her eyes.

Cassandra's head tilted curiously. Adah's body language was hard to read. Not just because of the unnatural stillness of part of her, the rest of her was so... chaotic. But in a calm way.

"I don't understand the question."

Adah blinked a little; for the difficulty of her last expression, this one was probably pretty clearly a bit confused. She didn't realized she necessarily asked a question, but it was...interesting that the Prophetess of Tragedy had picked up on the fact that there was one lurking. She took a moment, biting her lip again in thoughtful consideration before giving her head a slow shake. Never mind. Not important.

It was important, Cassandra knew that. But she also knew that what people usually meant when they claimed things were not important was that they did not want to talk about them. She could accept that.

She shrugged, "If you say so. I'm going to go find marshmallows." She turned to wander to another floor, hoping to find marshmallows there.

Second Floor Common Room; Friday Evening.

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