fandomhighdorms | The Deck; Late Sunday Afternoon.

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The Deck; Late Sunday Afternoon.

Chad was still a little bit confused by the lack of usual clothing and the seemingly abundance of tight pants and flowy shirts and bandanas that seemed to have worked his way into his closet, but he'd been here long enough to not worry about it until it had been at least a few days.

He did discover that he didn't like himself in those flowy shirts, though; he liked loose fits, sure, but those were just way too flowy. And he figured, if he was going to be shirtless, he might as well enjoy the sun a little, so he went down to the deck, and lounged a bit.

Because, you know, he needed a tan.

Well, Prince Oscar Pedro could use one. Lathered up with plenty of high SPF sunscreen, the cat lounged with Chad, enjoying the lingering sun of the day. And, yes, he had a nice bandana, too. He didn't even seem to mind. It wasn't nearly as annoying as the sweater, especially since Chad had wrapped it to give his ears freedom.

[[ yeah, like I could live with myself if I didn't use piratical shirtless Chad icon today. Anyway, open ]]

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Now that there wasn't a party going on out there, Katchoo decided it was about time to check out the new deck. Armed with a sketchbook and pencils today (much more portable), she found a lounge chair and flopped into it with a lit cigarette already in her mouth, using an empty Altoids tin she'd found at the bottom of her duffel bag for an ashtray.

Chad's attention shifted when he noticed someone else joining him on the deck; Prince Oscar Pedro's actions mimicked his, and he tilted his head in a bit of curiousity when he noticed it was a new kid and felt grateful for the fact that the wind seemed to be blowing away from him if she was going to smoke.

That stuff could kill you.

He lifted his hand in greeting. "Hey."

"Gyah!" Katchoo had been lost in her thoughts -- namely, what exactly she was going to tell Francine when they had that conversation she couldn't put off much longer -- and ideas for sketches, and miraculously managed to not notice the gigantic guy and -- was that a cat? Seriously? Several pencils went clattering to the deck as she tried to mask her startlement, and the subsequent chagrin at being caught off guard. "Don't frikkin' do that, God!"

Wondering how a simple greeting could have caused such an excitable reaction, Chad grunted a little and dully noted it, lowering his hand. "Uh, sorry?"

Saying 'no, it's okay' wasn't exactly in Katchoo's standard conversational repertoire, so she just shook her head. "Didn't see you there. You're amazingly quiet for someone your size, y'know."

"That's because I am this size," Chad answered back, convinced that this was true after spending yesterday in someone much smaller's body. "I'm Chad," he added. "This is Prince Oscar Pedro."

The cat in question was currently nibbling on the tail ends of his bandanna.

". . . right," Katchoo said after a second or two to try and parse out the logic there; she couldn't see it herself, but she had, after all, gotten her nickname on account of being 'no bigger than a sneeze' when she was born. Puberty hadn't done much to distance her from the evaluation, either.

"Katina," she added, and yes, it was pretty much an afterthought. "Nice . . . what the hell pet is that?"

"He's a cat," Chad said, simply, like he had pointed to the sky and said that's a cloud. It seemed pretty apparent to him, but maybe Katina come from somewhere that didn't have cats.

"Weeeeeeeeird," said Katchoo, in about the same tone of voice as she could have said 'huh.' If she didn't hate cats, she thought, she could've gotten one like that just to freak people out. "He ever going to grow into his name?"

"You mean the whole prince thing?" Chad asked, and took a moment to considering the nibbling naked feline. He grunted. "Believe me, he has."

Just, apparently, not so much today.

Katchoo got up off her lounge chair to gather up her scattered pencils, swearing a little under her breath when she discovered the lead had broken on a couple of them. "Yeah? Where's his tiara?"

"It's a crown," Chad corrected her. "And it was upstairs, but it's missing right now."

"God, you're serious," Katchoo said, not sure whether to gape or facepalm.

"He doesn't like wearing it," Chad added, a little sadly. "But I think that's just 'cause he's more humble than he lets on."

"Well, yeah, I mean, I would be too if I was him," Katchoo remarked. If she sounded a little distracted, she was still caught up in boggling that he was serious.

Chad, of course, either by nature or the fact that he was so used to reactions like that that he barely recognized boggling when it was directed at him, barely noticed.

"Because of the whole...no fur thing?" he guessed.

"Well, yeah, that and geez, his name's longer than he is," said Katchoo, who was now faced with the unfamiliar predicament of sympathizing with a cat.

There was a long sort of pause.

"...I don't even think I told you his whole name, either," Chad realized.

Katchoo whacked herself in the forehead with the heel of her hand, instantly regretting it and swearing up a brief but impressive storm when she knocked ash into her eye. "It's like the bonus set of steak knives that comes with the Ginsu set or something . . ."

The slap on the forehead and the sudden bout of swears confused Chad, and he eyed Katina with some uncertainty before he chanced a response.

"Well," he offered, as if this simple comment would explain it all, "I'm half-Mexican, so..."

"It's like playing connect the dots with invisible ink," Katchoo muttered. "Aw, screw it. I'm just gonna draw."

[OOC: Being dragged off to the movies, but didn't want to leave it hanging . . .]

Chad's head tilted a little at that; it would take a moment before it would transfer. He nodded, though, grunting a little. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, and then went back to his sunning, and letting her get back to her drawing.

Romeo had spent the last two days in his room in a kind of mourning stupor; by Sunday, he was bored and ready to emerge, save one problem.

All his clothes were velvet and piratical frills, with matching hats.

Finally, when he could not look at the walls one more second, he donned an outfit and went downstairs to the new deck, face daring anyone to say one word about what he was wearing.

Edited 2008-07-20 23:53 (UTC)

Chad, still enjoying the sun, lifted his hand in greeting. "Hey."

Pause.

"Neat hat."

It was impossible to tell if Chad really meant it or if he was just being facetious.

"It goes with the jacket," Romeo said, making a face. "I couldn't leave a fine outfit like this with no hat to set it off."

He reached inside his jacket for his pack of cigarettes. Another problem with breeches? No pockets.

"That's true," Chad said, this time very clearly agreeing with a small, affirmative grunt. "I didn't have any hats; just bandannas."

"I would have killed for a bandanna," Romeo answered, finishing the business of finding and lighting a cigarette with the small, satisfied smile of a man who knows exactly one thing has gone right. 'But I had none, only these hats."

He gave Chad a second look, trying to remember where he had seen him before. "You're the TA for modeling, aren't you?"

"Uhh, yeah," Chad answered, after a moment of feeling bad with the realization that he hadn't really noticed this guy before. "Chad. Hi."

"Romeo Montague," Romeo returned, blissfully unaware he had gone unnoticed. "I think the heels in class this week almost prepared me for the change in footwear today." He fidgeted with his lace jabot again. "The clothes need to turn back, don't they?"

Chad shrugged. "I'm just glad I had some wearable pants," he said. "I'm not allowed to go without. But they're not bad. You look..." He paused, to consider his word choices. "Dashing."

Romeo snorted a quick laugh. "I've not gotten that one before, but thank you. You're quite rogueish yourself."

"You in particular aren't allowed to go out without pants, or did you mean one shouldn't?" he asked, biting his lip.

Chad wasn't sure he'd ever gotten that one, either, but he liked it, he decided, so he gave Romeo a thumbs up. "Thanks," he said. "And, well, one shouldn't, really, but I've got a special rule. There've been a few..." He grunted, "incidents in the past. I wasn't myself; that happens around here."

Romeo groaned sympathetically and took a draw on his smoke before answering. "I was a rat-thing once," he told Chad. "I turned back right in the middle of class."

"I was a cup of tea before," Chad offered, not by the way of one-up-manship so much as simply pointing out that the list of different things one could turn into was a long and varied one.

"My boyfriend," he added, "is trying to turn into a chair, but that's just because he's a shapeshifter, not Fandom stuff."

"Inanimate objects," Romeo said, clearly impressed, "get extra points. What was it like, being tea? And why does your boyfriend want to be a chair?"

Chad shrugged. "I didn't ask," he admitted. "Probably just to do it. And being tea was...like being nice and warm and modestly caffeinated. Teddy and Katara wrapped me in saran wrap and put me under the bed to make sure no one drank me."

Romeo tilted his head, considering this. "It sounds dull, but a very nice kind of dull," he decided. "All I remember from my transformation was running around in a plastic hamster ball."

"That sounds...." Chad took a while trying to pick his word again, "tiring. Hopefully you're not claustrophobic."

"Not especially," Romeo said, then considered. "Maybe. My girlfriend said I spent a great deal of time running into walls; perhaps I was trying to escape. I can't remember it that well."

"Or maybe your senses were just off," Chad offered. "That can happen when you turn into things. Just ask Teddy. And I know mine were way off this weekend when I was Kaylee."

There was a thoughtful sort of pause.

"...I've turned into way too many things," he decided.

"I've turned into ... one thing and one other person," Romeo said, hoping he hadn't forgotten anything and aware how very odd it was he could forget. "The person robbed me blind, so that was worse."

"But that's since January. How long have you been here? If you've been here longer, by rights you should have been more things."

Edited 2008-07-21 01:55 (UTC)

"Been here almost two years now," Chad said with a slight nod. "So, yeah, I've got a lot more to work with."

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The Deck; Late Sunday Afternoon.

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