fandomhighdorms | Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

Eeeeverything was awesome. Everything. Okay, some left over weird from last week with all the marriage and stuff, but Jak was happy (and eager) to leave that part in the past. Especially when he had an enormous bowl full of nachos, some dip, and the television.

People were going to rue the day they introduced Jak to television. Seriously.

He perched his feet on the table, snagged a nacho, and turned the channel to professional motorcycling. Oh yeah.

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"They're racing motorcycles," Tara observed on a pass through the room to check the cabinets for lunch supplies. "That's a TV thing now?"

it wasn't exactly something she paid vast amounts of attention to.

"Oh! And hi."

Hannibal didn't have a class till Friday so seeing his common room active was a blessing. It gave him something to do and the guy in there was even watching something he was interested in.

"Hell yes, I wondered if this stuff got televised," he said excitedly, taking a seat and keeping his eyes on the screen.

Jak waved a lazy hand in her direction. What? His feet were preoccupied with the being all on the table and everything. He flashed her a grin to kind of make up for that, and tilted his head curiously.

Hey, cool. A fellow appreciator or whatever the word was of things that went really fast across really large distances with other things that went really fast! ...What, it wasn't like Jak could call it zoomer-racing.

Jak promptly forwent waving in favour of giving Hannibal both thumbs up. And shoving the nachos his way.

"Looking for soup," Tara explained, smiling back. Possibly she wasn't answering the question being asked, but so it went. "I think, anyhow. There's like no food on the second floor."

Or, rather, there was tons of food, but nothing Tara felt like eating.

"I always seem to come in here on chick flicks or something suitably drippy that makes me want to give up television forever," he said, shooting Jak a grin and reaching for some food. He would never turn down food, no. "Any good spills yet?"

That... was pretty much the answer Jak had been looking for, so he nodded, a little mollified. Uh. Soup...

He assumed a thoughtful expression, scanning the cupboards with his eyes before settling-- ah, there. He nodded in the cupboard's direction. That was where he was pretty sure he'd last seen soup. Unless it had run away or something.

Jak shrugged his shoulders once, glancing back at the television. Well, he mimed, there had been this one guy who made a total flip over that bump-- juuuust there which they were hitting right now. Yep.

"Sometimes the wipeouts are my favorite part," Hannibal said, not bothered by the not talking. He'd gotten a little used to it with Jono even if Jono could do that freaky head voice thing.

And Hannibal could talk enough for everyone, really.

"You ever do anything like this?" he asked, looking over at Jak as he got more comfortable.

He nodded back. Slow and cool. Slow and cool, man. Jak was the best zoomer racer back home in Sandover and... the entire continent, really. He was also pretty damn good on flut-fluts, but that might be a little harder to explain. You know. Big blue running bird and all that. But yeah. Racing.

He rocked.

Tara grinned her thanks, and made her way to that cabinet where she found a treasure trove of soup. "Black bean, vegetable, chicken noodle..."

She squinted at Jak. "Do you want anything? Or are you good with the nachos?"

... That was actually a good question.

Uh. That last one? Chicken noodle? Jak still was a little fuzzy on what exactly the local chickens were like, but the meat tasted okay, so that would probably be awesome. He affected a dubious look, but gave a nod that hopefully indicated chicken in a roundabout way.

... or anything else she might be making. He was easy.

"I haven't done anything like this in too long," he said, making a face at the fact that he'd slacked off on that. "Used to ride back home all the time. Streets here aren't all that good for a motorcycle. Sucks, really."

It really, really did.

"And the rickshaws are no good alternative."

Jak pulled a face. Then sort of gestured. Well, he'd tried? Like, when they had the-- he cupped his hands and bared his teeth-- attacking tomatoes? But they were kinda hard to control.

And so not fast.

"Really? You used a rickshaw during an invasion?" The baring of the teeth was enough to tell Hannibal it wasn't during some race or just because he was bored. "You're still in one piece so it seems to have worked out for you."

Jak shrugged. He mimed a broom. Good for scooping up vegetables with and mashing their brains to... well... mash. You know.

Hannibal nodded and then stuck out his hand. "Hannibal King. I live down the hall. Not sure if we've met or not. Getting the feeling you're not a big talker but didn't want to be rude."

"I'm making chicken noodle," Tara decided, because it was what she wanted anyhow. She fund a can opener and a pot and turned on the stove. "I kind of like having somebody to cook for, anyhow. My roommate doesn't eat, and it doesn't come up that often with anyone else, y'know?"

He was nodding along peacably, because Jak's own cooking skills didn't really go beyond nachos and the ability to open a can of peaches when one part of her sentence struck him. He pointed at his mouth, curiously. Was it like Jono? You know, all...

Bandage-y.

That was either a sudden indoor cold snap or... no, it was just Bobby making his way into the common room.

"Oh, deuce!" he said approvingly, seeing what was on television and flopping down to watch. "And, um. Hey, and all that."

Jak squinted at Hannibal's hand for a moment, but then took it for a shake. Hey, back home, he didn't meet a lot of new people. Like, ever. He pointed at his own mouth and shrugged. Nope. Not a big talker.

Deuce...?

Jak blinked up at that exclamation. A little confused, but, eh. Who cared. He held up a hand to wave at Bobby - a hand that quickly turned into a thumbs up and a shove at the nachos again. Being friendly.

"Why doesn't my roommate eat?" Tara guessed. "I don't know. I thought she was anorexic for a long time, but she doesn't lose weight? Maybe she's just really picky and eats on her own. Or -- something." She wrinkled her nose. "Would it be weird to ask? We've lived together almost six months."

Tara rubbed her arms at the sudden draft. "Hey, Bobby. Want to sample my amazing soup-heating-up skills?"

Jak shrugged a little. He'd be curious. Of course Jono had pretty much told him from, like, day one. Which was cool. Even if it did occasionally feel like he was living on Volcano Rock. So being curious would be normal, right?

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

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