fandomhighdorms | Dorm Lobby, Friday Afternoon

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@1st floor lobby

Dorm Lobby, Friday Afternoon

Yeahno, unlike some people, Francine was not going out in that.

But even if they didn't have their support team organized quite yet, there was still stuff she could do besides hide. So she raided the bathrooms and common rooms for all the bandages, painkillers, hydrogen peroxide and general first aid kits she could find, and dragged them down to the lobby, setting them out on one of the coffee tables.

There were bottles of water as well, and a couple of batches of cookies. She kind of thought she should go for sandwiches too, but that'd mean staying upstairs to make them, and not leaving anybody down here to hand stuff out. So instead she grabbed a spot on one of the couches, flipped the tv to a Gelmoore Gals re-run -- anything that wasn't Giant Reptile Week: the Revenge, honestly -- and waited to see if anybody who'd been out there fighting wandered back in needing...stuff. Whatever that stuff might be.

[OOC: Open to anybody, whether you've been out gator-baiting or not!]

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Turtle was fighting, of course. But Turtle needed a bit of a break from fighting.

"Do you know," she announced to no one in particular, as she sighed heavily, looking disheveled as she reached for a water bottle, "how small alligator shins are?"

"...Small?" Francine guessed, looking concerned. "Why were you aiming for their shins? And do you need anything besides water?"

"It's my MO," Turtle explained with a shrug, and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Don't worry; I've got a gun, too. And water should be fine. Maybe something to eat. Just a little break to refuel and reload."

Yeah, she felt like a total bad-ass saying that.

Well, Francine was impressed. "There's cookies, and Priestly has sandwich stuff. You've got a gun?" Turtle looked, you know. Wee.

Turtle nodded. "I got it for my fifteenth birthday," she said, "and have been training ever since. I know that's not very impressive compared to some people around here, but I'm a pretty good shot. My aim is usually right on."

"I...would not be good with a gun," Francine said. "Flail issues."

"I was like that...a lot at first," Turtle admitted. "I actually didn't want anything to do with it..."

"I don't mean flailing about the guns," Francine said. "I mean I broke my boyfriend's nose with the back of my hand last night."

"...You broke it?"

"Just a little bit!" It stopped bleeding eventually...

"I always thought the nose was one of those things that you didn't exactly break just a little," Turtle said. "How'd you do that, anyway?"

"Unexpected squirrel."

"I think," said Turtle, "you might need to elaborate on that a little."

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"Can't say I've noticed." Priestly held out a ham and cheese on wheat. "Sandwich?"

"Oooh, yes, please," Turtle said, happily taking the sandwich after wiping her hands a little on her jeans which, really, was a futile maneuver. "And, trust me, you notice when you try to kick them. Tiny shins. Makes it difficult to really aim for them."

"I'll have to keep that in mind. Was, uh, kinda planning to stay inside until the things went away, though."

Turtle's head bobbed in a nod. "Good idea," she said, taking a bite of the sandwich. "It's madness out there. You'd be surprised over how much guts these guys squirt out when you shoot them, but at least they're not as bad as the harpies."

She took another ripping bite of the sandwich, because she just felt so bad ass right now.

Priestly was impressed at how she could eat after talking about mutant alligators spewing guts.

"You know, I managed to miss the harpies completely."

It was kind of gross, it was true, especially since there were still traces of gut splatter in her hair, but fighting alligators was hard work. Turtle was famished. She'd eat about anything, so she was glad it was something good.

"You're lucky. I mean, the alligators don't exactly smell like spring flowers, either, but at least they don't insult you in unsavory ways."

"Oh, I dunno, sticks and stones and all that. . . ."

"The alligators also don't fly," Turtle added pointedly.

"That we've seen yet."

Turtle's eyes widened.

"Don't even say that! The goldfish flying," yes, there was a hand gesture with that, "from their mouth are enough, thanks."

". . . They shoot goldfish?"

Turtle nodded solemnly. "Right out of their mouth. And the goldfish have teeth, I think. One bit me." She shifted, pulling up her sleeve a little to show Priestly the spot on her shoulder.