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Outside Fourth Floor Men's Room [Tuesday Early Evening]

It wasn't Hannibal's idea of fun to be carrying a stupid plush dragon like he was five years old and needed to cuddle it for comfort or something.

He was just...feeling a little guilty about realizing WHO the plushie was after way too long after having thrown it in the air during one of his boredom fits.

Now, he was carrying the damn thing down the hall with him, stopping right in front of the bathroom door to glare at the damn stuffed thing.

"It's really bad for my reputation to be carrying your plush ass around," he groused, glaring at the stuffed plushie.

[Hannibal's thread is locked to one TOTAL BFF and one other person. But, uh, if you really wanna wander by, you can. He's just not going to be able to answer you.]

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It was as if the statement itself had awakened something in the plushie.

That, or, presumably, the forces that governed Fandom (of which the Boy Who Was Now A Plushie was certain they existed) had gotten bored with the boy's state and decided it was about time to deal with the whole thing.

Whatever it was, there was a pop.

And then there was another boy in that doorway, naked, blinking once in a surprise he would probably fail to ever mention again later.

Edited 2008-08-27 00:09 (UTC)

All right, so now he wasn't holding a plushie at all. Now he was looking right at Ender who was naked.

And no, he didn't look for longer than necessary, don't even think that.

He did groan loudly and stare up at the ceiling. "What the hell, changing back naked? Put some clothes on!"

Ender was still blinking rapidly. Of course; the island had its odd habits of changing things around-- he'd just somehow doubted that he'd be affected. Stupid, stupid thinking. Of course even in this, he'd be left to fend for himself. He'd have to expect it next time.

"There aren't any," he pointed out, about a moment later. He hadn't quite budged. "It might be difficult."

"Well." Hannibal made several unintelligible motions with his hands. "Find some leaves or a sheet or something. Anything! No one needs to see that!"

And there were people blocking the hallway with their bickering and...

Temari raised an eyebrow at the nudity. And shoved Hannibal to push them both into the bathroom. Gentle... not so much. "Get a room."

"I don't see--"

And that was about as much of the counter-argument that Ender could accomplish. He saw the shove coming, but it was too late, and so he stumbled into the bathroom, his feet shifting automatically to find his center of balance once more.

And Hannibal stumbled in right behind him, almost falling into Ender because he totally lost his balance, having not seen the shove coming at all.

The only noise he made was one of surprise. Poor bastard.

Automatically, he grabbed for Hannibal's shoulder as the boy came soaring in his general direction, trying to find some way to steady the situation. For a moment, the idea of saying that wasn't necessary flicked past Ender's mind, but he discarded it, his eyes searching for the doorway and whoever had just caused this mid-movement.

"What in the hell?" Hannibal said, not noticing the shoulder grabbing because hey, it was holding him up. "What in the goddamn hell? Polite words might have worked better!"

He didn't even know who he was shouting at. He was just shouting.

"I'm sorry," Temari replied dryly. "I'll be more polite next time."

With that she pulled the door shut and there was a satisfying click from the force that she hadn't expected.

Locked.

Huh.

"Sorry?" She was not snickering. Really.

Ender's eyes, which had first primarily been concerned with making sure Hannibal didn't topple on him further, shot towards that combination of two relatively alarming noises. "That better not be a lock," he said, pulling his hand away from Hannibal's shoulder-- his attention was now somewhere else entirely.

"It had better not be!" Hannibal agreed, reaching for the door and tugging on it angrily. It didn't budge.

He glared at Ender. "Open it!" Because it was Ender's fault they were in here. Somehow.

"Is there any sign of a lock on this end?" Ender asked, finding a cool that Hannibal obviously wasn't capable of. Naked in a bathroom: it wasn't unfamiliar to him, and he moved freely, like it didn't bother him, towards the door.

"All right, first thing," Hannibal said, holding up a finger, "is you go over to the paper towel dispenser and build yourself a kilt or a skirt or a skort or something."

Knocking on the door, Temari leaned closer, ear pressed against the wood to listen in on whatever those girls were going on about.

"I'll get help. Promise."

...after she took a shower.

"That's not really a priority," Ender replied. Hannibal, as always, agitated him; he still wasn't certain why, but it got on his nerves almost as much as the boy did. "I'm naked. Deal with it. Now let's get this door open." Somehow.

"You gotta key in one of your pockets?" Hannibal quipped. "Must be a helluva trick, that."

Ender would have rolled his eyes, but it was pointless. "I can manage a few tricks," he said, his hand running along the line of the door, searching for anything that might help, "But I forgot about my hat."

"You weren't wearing a hat as a damn stuffed animal," he said and kicked the door. "I didn't lose it. Don't go blaming me."

"I'm not blaming anyone. Unless you feel spoken to," he replied, taking a few steps backwards to survey the door. "Temari?"

But he found no answer. Stuck naked in a bathroom with someone who didn't particularly like him; it was almost like a bad nightmare come to haunt him again. But Ender didn't take Hannibal for the violent type, and so the memory was nothing but a slight twitch to be stored and weighed once again.

"She your girlfriend?" Hannibal asked, glaring some more at Ender because it made him feel a little better. "Is that was this is about? I'm not getting into the middle of an argument."

"No," Ender said, his jaw setting as he realised that no, there wouldn't be a quick exit from this situation, "She yours?" Not that the statement made the slightest sense on any level. Stuck in a bathroom-- he shouldn't be making an already antagonistic situation worse. "Nevermind."

"I don't even know her," he said and rolled his eyes. "And what kind of a name is Temari anyway? She sounds like a hot sauce."

Hannibal would probably be glad she was gone by then after that remark.

"Be glad she didn't hear that," he replied, finding a spot against the wall and relaxing into it. "We'll wait." Until someone came along, or he thought of a solution.

This was not what he wanted to do with his evening. Dammit.

"And what?" Hannibal asked, leaning against the wall opposite Ender. "Talk? Share our feelings? Trade gossip?"

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