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Third Floor Common Room - Thursday After Classes

Chips and salsa probably didn't count as dinner for most people, but considering that it was about the extent of Emma's cooking ability, it would have to make due. As agitated as she was right now, she's burn down the dorms if she so much as tried to make popcorn.

Which, if people would shut up, she wouldn't be having this problem.

Food achieved, she settled in on the couch and started channel surfing. It had been over a year of no television: time to see if cable had anything worth watching.

[Open as CRs are!]

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Ronan walked into the common room as if he owned it and stepped over to the fridge, rummaging through it. "You haven't seen any orange juice on this floor, have you?" he asked, not even coming out of the fridge to speak. "We seem to be out upstairs. I can't find any, anyway."

"There's some in the back," Emma replied, glancing up from the television. Hrm. Nice rear view. "But I would check the expiration date."

"Duly noted," Ronan said, pushing some things aside and coming up with the juice. "Ugh. And well-warned. Three weeks ago." He tossed it into the trash, closing the fridge and leaning back against it. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Emma shrugged. "A bit cloudy for my tastes," she said. "And I was traumatized by a midget wielding spandex today. Although really, that's every Thursday."

"... A midget wielding spandex traumatises you every Thursday?" Ronan asked, unconsciously reaching out with a, Powers, you poor thing. "I'm afraid to ask, but I think I must anyway. What?"

...What the bloody hell was that? Emma's shields snapped tighter, and there was a flicker of wariness in her eyes for a moment.

"Fashion class," she answered glibly. "Superhero fashion, apparently, which will teach me to read the course catalog more closely next time."

"Kiss kiss," Karla said, poking her head in. The second floor common room had little food and lots of awkward. "Anyone here?"

Valentine was figuring that she must, clearly, be ovulating, and the fact that she now lived around so many other teenagers instead of a life of relative seclusion with time spent only with someone of shared genetics was the reason the swing of hormones inspiring her to subconsciously procreate was hitting so hard. It seemed the only logical reason, really, why her mind would be so heavily on a fascination with naked people and a desire to actually go out and seek the company of a few suitable males.

Suitable. By definition to mean anyone close enough to Peter or Ender to bother with.

She figured she'd get something to munch on for dinner, ruminate exploring this more, and then decide, drifting into the common room with her laptop under her arm and a small nod of greeting to the general populace.

"Hey."

Ronan blinked. "We have a superhero fashion class? I missed that, somehow." He caught the wariness, but passed it aside for the moment. "But it does explain the spandex."

If it seemed that Valentine was giving Ronan a closer, more detailed, thoughtful inspection than she had in previous encounters, it was because she definitely was doing just that. She thought she was being pretty subtle about it, too, unaware that her usual subtly seemed to have escaped her recently, and she chalked up the fact that she really never notice all his nicer features before because Dr. Brennan's class must just be bringing more things into her awareness...

Ronan noticed the scrutiny, oh, yes; he took the opportunity to lounge a little more artfully casually against the wall, showing off the lean length of his body. It didn't hurt that, today, his black silk shirt was open an extra button, or that his jeans were just a size too small.

"Hey," he said, smiling softly, as his eyes traced the planes of her face. "How's it going?"

"Nope, just us mice," Emma answered, lifting one hand to wriggle her fingers over the back of the couch at Karla.

"She's got a strange fixation on 'no capes' for some odd reason, which I thought were a required part of superhero ensembles," Emma said. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'm happy with what I ended up with, and it's not nearly as embarrassing as some of the body suits."

"Oh? Any chance of a private modeling session?" Ronan asked. ... It was perhaps only a little more forward than he'd normally be.

Emma blinked.

"Normally a boy at least gives me his name before trying to get me to play dress-up for him," she drawled, lowering her shields just enough to try and peek at any surface thoughts he had floating about.

The slightest hint of anything disgusting, and she'd rewrite a few things to leave him with a compulsion to put underwear on his head every time someone said the word 'green'.

Ronan just laughed. "Sorry; on an average day, I'd even think to offer it first. Ronan Nolan," he introduced himself. "I don't quite know what's with me, these last few days."

He felt the slight brush against his thoughts, and practically snorted. Another telepath? he sent out. You're just coming out of the woodworks this term, aren't ye?

It should be noted that while he was definitely... appreciating... Emma, the thoughts weren't quite what one might consider 'disgusting'. There was no sense of using her, just an idea that there could be shared fun. "If it makes you feel any better," he added, "I'd be more than happy to give you a private show of your own."

So he'd noticed. Astute, as well as attractive. Valentine gave a soft smile back. "Not bad. How are you?"

"Better every moment," Ronan replied. "'Tis the day for it, it seems."

...he'd noticed? Emma reigned in her power, careful to keep her face neutral. "Are we now?" she asked, amusement lacing her tone. "If there's supposed to be a telepath's club, no one's told me yet."

"No club that I've heard of," Ronan explained, "but certainly there always seems to be a few of ye around. I'm not one myself, not really, but I can speak to other wizards that way, back home, and it seems to extend to other telepaths, here."

Emma looked up, recognizing the girl from Ms. Walker's class. The holiday from the sibling set.

"Valentine," she drawled, giving the other girl a nod. "Don't tell me that's homework?"

"Tis it?" Valentine asked, chuckling a little. "What makes you say that? Was the previous cause for the moment that this is better than, then?"

"Where is home?" Emma's Boston accent slipped out a bit heavier in response to Ronan's before she managed to clip it back under control. Pretty accent. "You don't exactly sound like a local."

"Oh, just more beautiful company, everywhere I turn," Ronan said. "And so each moment more beautiful for the company it shares."

"Not at all!" Ronan agreed. "I'm from Ireland," he explained, "but I meant more my particular Earth -- haven't seen wizards like it anywhere outside that particular sheaf."

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Third Floor Common Room - Thursday After Classes

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