fandomhighdorms | The Roof, Saturday Morning

It was kind of cloudy out. It was still somewhat chilly out. It was entirely too early in the morning, and Warren wasn't sure why the heck he was even awake yet, but here he was.

He'd made his way up to the roof to give his wings a stretch, because those dorm rooms were way too puny for anyone with a wingspan like his, and he stayed up there, contemplating getting his nagging urge to fly out of his system before he'd find himself crammed into a coat and harness all over again for a week in the Bahamas.

... Of course, it still seemed like a fair trade-off. Flying for the Bahamas. He'd spent a lot of his life not flying. He could handle a week, for the sake of the sunshine. Right? Right. Of course, right.

"Of course, it had to be addictive," he mumbled, giving his head a little shake, and then jumping. A few laps around, and he'd be good, he figured. Just enough to get the feel for the wind through his feathers. It was too cold to keep going for too long, after all. But maybe once he landed, he'd be able to warm up for a bit and then go about doing it all over again.

He was getting better at taking off. He didn't look quite so much like somebody had tossed an unsuspecting chicken from the roof as he used to.

[Open roof is open! Warren will be playing his game of 'fly, land, thaw, repeat' for most of the morning.]

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"Hey, maybe being drunk would make your flying better," Alex proposed. "I had friends that would get drunk and suddenly be the smartest or the wittiest people around."

... No, Warren. You're not allowed to actually consider what it would be like to fly drunk.

Have you ever even been drunk, Warren?

"And I'm not smart enough now? Oh, my ego. It burns."

"Hey, can't say I know enough to know that," Alex said, shrugging. "Are you smart enough, now?"

"Apparently not," Warren smirked, "since I'm half considering finding out if it's even possible for me to fly straight, bird costume or none, after some drinking."

"Hey, if you want, I can get you drunk." It was something he had a talent for. "Either here so you don't have to worry about people's reactions or in the Bahamas. I'd cover for you either way."

"And here's where I have to ask how in the world you'd cover for some guy staggering around with a set of fully functional wings on his back," Warren noted, still somewhat curious all the same. "Here might be safer. People seem more or less okay with the guy with wings around here, after all."

"Because it'd make a great fucking story," Alex said, smirking. "And I always like amazing people with stories. It makes me more charming. And it's always good to have an in."

... Actually, knowing people with stories was pretty much good business sense, too. Warren couldn't deny that.

"Well, if you can find a good place to go drinking while we're on vacation, point me to it. Why not? I'll even buy the first round."

Provided they'd sell alcohol to a seventeen year old, of course. But then again, it wasn't as though Warren couldn't afford a decent fake ID, either.

"If there's alcohol, I'll find it." He had a nose for that sort of thing. "One thing, if you get drunk, you don't act like a weakling and throw up everywhere, right?"

Warren had no idea.

"I'm fairly certain that I can hold my own," he decided, anyhow.

Not that a healing factor had anything to do with throwing up after a crazy night on the town, but he figured it would be a safe bet, anyhow. He'd just stop before he couldn't walk in a straight line. Failsafe idea, that!

"Good because that shit's gross." In case Warren was confused on that point or anything. "So, we'll get you drunk in the Bahamas and see if we can't find a bird costume."

Alex was looking way too forward to this.

"Provided, of course, that you can talk me into the stupid thing in the first place," Warren pointed out.

It was convincing him that would be the challenge. Finding one, when you had a wallet as full as Warren's, was a matter of waving around a credit card to see who would leap up to sell it to him first.

"I'll be able to." Confidence was his friend. "I've been known to talk people out of their clothes, I'm sure I can talk someone into a costume."

"I'm trying to picture the headlines, now," Warren chuckled, shaking his head. "The best I'm coming up with is something about giant attack seagulls. That's never a good sign."

"What happens in the Bahamas, stays in the Bahamas?" For Warren's sake, Alex hoped that was true.

The Roof, Saturday Morning

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