fandomhighdorms | Sixth Floor Common Room, Wednesday Evening [WARREN'S BIRTHDAY PARTY!]

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Sixth Floor Common Room, Wednesday Evening [WARREN'S BIRTHDAY PARTY!]

Through some miracle of timing, Bobby had actually managed to get everything for Warren's party set up earlier before heading off to Karla's.

Now, though, it was Warren's turn. Hopefully people would still have room for even more food after a BBQ, because the amount of food two brilliant bakers plus one person with access to a very good catering service was impressive.

At least people could work all those excess calories off in the ball pit?

[OOC: up early for slowplay, yay!]

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Oh. She'd missed...

Well, hopefully she'd see the other girl sometime soon. Hopefully.

"I missed that one. I only got back about two hours ago."

"Karla's been around here, too," Warren noted, glancing around to see if he could spot her offhand. "You're a friend of hers, too?"

She nodded quickly.

"We... were. Yes."

She wasn't sure how things stood with the other girl. She'd been so reclusive and she didn't know how Karla might feel. But she wanted to see her. Hopefully that was something.

"Yes," she said again, more firm this time.

Warren tried no to look too confused about the about-face in her answer, there. His puzzled expression lasted all of a heartbeat, and then he was smiling again.

"She seems like the sort of person to stand by her friends," he noted. "Mostly on her own terms, maybe, but that just means she stands by them all the more strongly when she decides to."

Which Warren said with all of the insight possessed by a boy who had absolutely no friends growing up. Of course.

Make that two.

"I think so too. It's just been a while. I wasn't really doing so well before I left. Kind of avoided people."

Her head ducked down, one finger tucking a curl behind her ear. It was a familiar nervous habit, made easier by the fact that goddess-hood seemed to have made her hair a bit less of a rat's nest.

That might also have been the access to commercial shampoo and conditioner, though.

"Sorry. Nothing you need to worry about, right? Birthday. Happy Birthday."

She'd probably spend the next half an hour after the conversation ended inconspicuously neatening up any stray food or drinks in the area out of habit.

Nothing said 'great way to spend a millionaire's birthday party' like cleaning up after hungry teenagers!

"Thank you," he replied, tucking his hands into his pockets and managing, by some miracle, not to look horribly awkward over the birthday wishes. "For what it's worth, I don't mind listening, though. The talking's nice."

... Way to make yourself look desperate for conversation, Birthday Boy.

"We could keep talking," she offered with a little grin. It was small, but genuine. Things didn't seem to be blowing up, they were conversing like normal people who could converse about things even though they hadn't really touched on much of anything... this was going well for Fiona, really.

And for Warren, who hadn't even touched on the 'shameless flirt' thing yet! Which was a pretty good track record for him, lately.

"Is this where we start on into small talk? I never did really master the art of small talk. 'Where are you from?' 'Nice weather today, isn't it?' 'How about that local sports team and/or event?'" He cracked another light grin. "I guess I could use some practise, there."

He got a smile out of her, and granted, they weren't as rare as they once were but it still wasn't a natural inclination for her usually.

"Don't know. Socializing used to be something of a spectator's sport for me. But I'm from California," oh yes, such a California girl her, with her dark hair and her pale skin and her relatively modest dress, "the weather is nice enough" a shift of her shoulders, "and I don't know anything about sports. What about you?"

"Mostly the same," admitted Warren. "Except I'm from New York, and I think there was a hockey team on the island this last semester, but I never really was a big fan of hockey."

A small lift of one shoulder meant a small twitch of one wing, and his smile went a few shades of sheepish. "Small talk is pretty hit-and-miss that way, I suppose."

"I know the history of the game," she admitted with a shrug of her own, "but nothing else and it never seemed particularly interesting."

She considered where she could send the conversation. She did want to keep talking to him, but she wasn't sure what she should talk about? She wasn't quite sure what was too private or taboo or anything like that, or at least she didn't have any set guidelines that she'd ever found, just a vague idea picked up from the last year or so here.

And here wasn't exactly normal.

"What are you a fan of, then?"

'Flying' was a bit of a given, wasn't it?

"Honestly, I never really was a fan of sports," he admitted. "I didn't have much opportunity to get involved with them, growing up, so paying too much attention to them would have been more like a tease than a hobby."

"We had prescribed exercises," she told him, nodding along as if to say 'no, not really a fan of sports, no, didn't really have an opportunity either', "and my brother and I would race. That's about all. The others were against the rules. Besides, it's hard to play most of them with only two people."

After all, Audrey certainly wouldn't participate and Cee was a bit old.

"Yeah, there's that, too. I didn't really have anyone to play them with. And my dad would have had a fit if I decided to start throwing a ball around indoors."

Possibly because there were a lot of windows in their apartment.

"So I suppose that means we're in agreement that sports aren't really our thing."

That actually got a short laugh.

"Yes, I think we are. I mean. I could tell you what I usually do for fun, but you'd probably look at me funny afterwards. So you first."

"Oh, because you think you're not likely to look at me strangely, back?" Warren chuckled and shook his head a little. "Before I got here, I really didn't do much of anything. Some reading, I guess. Studying, mostly. Helping Dad with accounting problems, that sort of thing. Really, it was a very exciting life I led."

Thrilling. Truly.

"Here, it's mostly been flying and just... being around people."

...Fiona didn't even feel the smile curl on her face. It just did, small and yet, deeply heartfelt.

"Studying," she said back, "homework and reports and papers on all kinds of things. Assisting around my mother's apartment complex. Work. And my brother and I play a game that involves insulting each other with the most esoteric references possible to see if the other one can figure out what it means."

A short pause.

"Mostly I've tried to be around people and practice at the salle. And I like to shop, since I couldn't before."

"Now there's something I haven't had a chance to do much of," Warren mused. "You kind of master shopping online when you grow up under my father's roof. But I don't think I've just gotten out and done so, yet."

Which was kind of funny, considering.

"It's okay to get out and do things, here. I have to keep reminding myself about that."

"I did that too, my first semester," she admitted.

"Thankfully, I made friends who'd invite me out."

"Bobby's been that, for me," said Warren. "He apparently knew some other me from some other reality before I even thought about coming here. I imagine it probably bugged him a bit to see a Warren who wasn't all... outgoing, or whatever."

He was working on it! Really!

"But I'll never complain about more friends." A beat. "So, you're a bit of a shopping professional, then?"

"A very enthusiastic amateur," she corrected him with a wicked little smile, "why? Looking to go out sometime and give it a try yourself?"

"Well, I have to do it sometime," he noted, with a return smile that wasn't quite as wicked, but certainly wasn't up to much good, either. "It would be worth it to-" Spend some time with a pretty girl. "-see if the shopping skills I've picked up over the Internet transition at all over to doing the same thing in person."

Yep. Totally a learning experience.

Her head tilted then, lifting her chin with a smile.

"Then it would be terribly rude of me not to offer to accompany you. And I can't be rude to you on your birthday."

Not that it'd ever stopped her with her brother. Then again, it'd been her birthday too every year.

"Though I might ask you to tell me about shopping on the Internet. Computers weren't allowed so I don't really know how to use mine that much."

Eliot was probably hacking into the FBI database at this point, but she was about up to 'email' and 'typing papers'. And frankly, she enjoyed her typewriter for typing papers a little more.

"Well, I might be able to help you there," Warren decided, grinning. "Really, we could think of it as a trade. If you teach me the ins and outs of shopping face-to-face, I can teach you all about the glory of E-bay."

... Well, not just E-bay, of course. But it was a useful example.

Blank stare, Warren. She doesn't know eBay from e. coli.

...well, she knew about e. coli.

After another moment, she let out a quick puff of a laugh and nodded.

"Fair enough."

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