Fourth Floor Common Room; Saturday Afternoon.

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal had slept in for three reasons: the first was simply that it was a Saturday, the second was because yesterday had been a very long day, and the third was because he had trouble sleeping anyway. It was being in a new place, with a lot of new people, in an entirely new situation. He was used to it, of course, so he was used to losing sleep over it at first.

Besides, it was nothing a little coffee couldn't fix. He rubbed the back of his neck as he drifted down the hall and into the room with the couches and the TV and the kitchenette and started rummaging around for what he needed.

While...trying not to step on the tortoises.

Wait...

Cal frowned at the little golden tortoises swarming at his feet right now.

Hopefully that was something a little coffee could fix, too.

[[ open common room is open ]]

Comments

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"I never said it was bad," Cal pointed out; he managed to keep it cool, except for his forehead wrinkling in a frown of slight distress. "But it would probably be worse if you had a big piece of steel or something sticking out of your forehead."

Not that he wanted to be discriminatory or anything, all things considered, but she wouldn't look nearly as cute that way.

Not that he'd ever say that...

[intraspective]

...

...

"I'll give you that one," she said, tilting her head. "Not sure if anyone would be great company like that."

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"Can you imagine talking to someone with a constant migraine? Not pretty."

[intraspective]

"Well," she said dryly, "I was thinking more along the lines of trying to talk to someone who was dead. But alright, no, that wouldn't be fun either."

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

Cal gawked at Ino again as he held out his hands uselessly. "You have the most misplaced logic I think I've ever seen," he commented. "Okay, yeah, wee tiny sheep eating my hair and forehead protectors on my waist, but, whoa. WHOA, hold up! I draw the line at people giving through life with things stuck in their heads. That's just crazy talk."

"You know, I read somewhere about some guy who lived to be eighty five with a nail in his head before. It's entirely possible. Nature makes up for some pretty messed up shit out there."

Case in point...

[intraspective]

She blinked at him. "If someone did wind up with a big piece of steel sticking out of their forehead then, I'd say the odds are, that they'd die. Yeah. I mean, if they'd didn't? Then good for them, I'd totally talk to them. But the odds are fairly low, don't you think?"

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"Fairly low, yeah," Cal agreed. "But all you need is one and a million for it to happen. Just that once." He gave Ino a slight smile. Too bad he couldn't just tell her that he was living proof of that. He'd rather be one of the statistics of not surviving the shrapnel attack than point that out, so she just might win this one by default.

[intraspective]

"I guess..." Ino considered that. "I never really thought of it before."

[not-a-mused.livejournal.com]

"I'm just saying," Cal shrugged. "It's interesting how everyone here is so quick to be all, 'Oh, yeah, weird stuff happens here, like this and that,' but then you're all quick to dismiss something like that as unlikely."

[intraspective]

"Well," she said, frowning slightly, "in my experience you really would die if you got shrapnel to the head. No ninja would be so stupid as to not check and if they were the enemy we're not going to rush them to the hospital obviously. And if they were an ally we'd do our best, but even still. I mean, if it did happen I wouldn't have a problem with it, but in the abstract I don't really see it happening."