Second floor common room, Tuesday afternoon

[lovemykilt]

Priestly was perched on the counter again, this time next to the coffee pot. His mohawk was still green from yesterday, but it matched his "I sell crack for the CIA" t-shirt and he didn't want to risk getting dye on his clothes. He had his legs crossed -- never fear, he was wearing pants, no danger of accidental flashing here. And he was talking seemingly to mid-air.

"I'm just saying, man. I totally respect what you're fighting for, but you've got to be careful. Too many of you guys go on strike at the same time and it'll be really hard drumming up the right kind of sympathy for your cause. Plus you're totally risking potential union-limiting legislation. And look what happened to Hoffa. Okay, not what actually happened to Hoffa, but what people think happened to Hoffa. Not that I'm saying you guys have ties to the mob. And, anyway, you got to watch out for the scabs and stuff, undermining what you're trying to say. Are the French presses in the union? These are important questions."

The second floor common room had coffee. Caffeinated, even.

But only if you proved you supported the coffee makers' cause.

[ooc: open!]

Comments

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"It's an accurate description though," Dor pointed out. "It's not like it has a mind like you or I do."

[lovemykilt]

"Yeah, well, it pretty clearly has some level of awareness. And can understand English."

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"That's just the nature of my magic," Dor replied and then got a worried expression on his face. "Which makes me wonder if it has something to do with the whole strike business going on."

[lovemykilt]

"Were you here three years ago?" Priestly asked, remembering what Mac had told him in class.

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"Me? No I just came here at the beginning of the school year," Dor replied. "What happened three years ago?"

"Just you wait," the floor chuckled.

As did the rest of the room.

[lovemykilt]

"Well that was . . . ominous." Priestly blinked around the room, then refocused on Dor. "Apparently the laundry's gone on strike before. If you weren't here, then I'm thinking this totally isn't your fault."

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

Dor immediately looked relieved. "Oh good. Though you have to wonder how bad the laundry machines are treated to go on strike."

[lovemykilt]

"Think about it, man. People probably never even thank 'em. And if they leave the lint in the lint traps, or overload them, or use too much fabric softener, what then? It probably gives 'em indigestion or something."

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

Dor shook his head. "Sometime I think that the Mundane's use of machines makes it more difficult that it actually is."

[lovemykilt]

". . . Mundanes?"

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"Sorry," Dor said making a face. "That's the term we use in my world for the non-magical world some people live around here. I don't mean it as an insult."

[lovemykilt]

"Yeeeeah. Good to know. And I dunno about making things easier or harder. Some people just like making stuff."

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"Well I guess it's fine if there is a purpose," Dor shrugged. "Then again in my world most of the things you make grow on trees."

[lovemykilt]

"Seriously?"

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"Yep. I have a garden in the back that grows clothes, trees and pillows among other things."

[lovemykilt]

"That's kinda creepy."

[talks2objects.livejournal.com]

"No more than getting milk from a cow," Dor said making a face.

[lovemykilt]

"Okay, that's fair."