fandomhighdorms | The Roof, Wednesday Afternoon

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The Roof, Wednesday Afternoon

Wes wasn't really an outdoorsy kind of guy, but his roommate frankly kind of freaked him out, so he'd gone around looking for places to be instead of his dorm whenever possible. When he discovered the door that led to the roof, he settled on that, and went up the stairs with a book under his arm.

Settling down on the ledge, he opened his book and began reading. Yes, this was much nicer than having to check around his room every few minutes to make sure his things weren't being stolen.

[For Quinn, but also open, I guess! I have class for a couple hours, but after that, whoo Meet Cute!]

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Quinn wasn't superoutdoorsy either, but for some reason she just felt like going up to the roof to see if she could see the ocean. She didn't even notice the click of the lock as she closed the door behind her.

"Oh," she said, sparing Wesley a quick smile. "You're out here. Hi."

"Hello," Wes greeted her. Suddenly a gust of wind blew his book out of his hands and he felt obligated to make conversation. "Ah... how has your first week been so far?"

Sorry this took forever!

"Could be worse," Quinn answered. "According to my big sister, there really are vampires, but they hardly ever attack." Which was as close as Quinn would get to apologizing for treating Wes like he was crazy.

"And I can't find any cheerleaders. But my classes are kind of interesting."

"What about your week?"

"I had my first experience with rooftop fireworks," Wes offered. "And my roommate might possibly be psychotic. Also, as it turns out, I'm not scheduled for classes until tomorrow, so this week has been largely uneventful."

"Perhaps you could start a cheerleading team?"

"Your first --" Quinn was puzzled. "Oh, right. English. Guess you don't have big parties to celebrate losing a war."

She leaned against the ledge against him. "Maybe. There's supposed to be one, so I might join that if it's worth my time. What are you reading?"

"Yes, firework celebrations weren't very common for American Independence Day in England," Wesley agreed.

"I was reading an index of dimensional convergence points and their locations," Wes replied, "but it appears to have blown away."

"Sounds fascinating," Quinn said, a bit snidely. "Nothing like a little light summer reading."

Ugh, it was muggier out than she expected. She was going to go back inside pretty soon, she could tell.

"And the cheerleading? Strenuous physical activity is just right for this climate, wouldn't you say?" he snarked back.

"Except we have this miraculous invention called air conditioning," Quinn pointed out, bored (and a little surprised. It was cute when prey found its backbone.). "I can practice just fine inside a gym. I think I'm going to do that now."

She walked over to the door, pulled the handle, and frowned. It didn't move. "Huh."

Mentally scolding himself for being rude, Wes went over to the door. "Try pushing it, perhaps?" he asked, only a little bit condescending.

"I thought of that," Quinn said, as nicely as she could manage. She wasn't all that interested in picking on Wesley, anyhow. "It's just" -- she frowned, twisting it both ways and trying both pushing and pulling -- "stuck. Want to try?"

Now very much doubting that his own efforts would be particularly effective, and resigned to embarrassing himself by making the attempt, Wesley tried first pushing and then pulling the door, and - nothing.

"Wonderful," he griped. "I don't suppose you have any way of contacting anybody inside?"

"Of course I do," Quinn said, bitchfacing a bit.

Except, as was immediately clear when she checked her pockets, she didn't. "... I left my phone in my room," she admitted. "I didn't think I'd be out here that long."

One time in her life that she left her phone behind, and she really needed it. It just figured.

"Do you have yours?"

Edited 2010-07-07 22:58 (UTC)

"I don't have a cell phone," Wes mumbled abashedly. "Nor do I know the contact information of anyone at Fandom just yet. I suppose we could wait until someone comes along and opens the door?"

Which sounded about as appealing at telling his father he'd flunked a test. In a word: not.

"We could die of heat stroke first," Quinn said. It was melodrama, but it felt about true just then.

She gave the door another kick, putting all her weight behind it. It barely nudged.

"Who doesn't have a cell phone?"

Wesley eyed his own clothing - long sleeves and pants. "Yes, quite," he agreed. "And the year in my timeline is 1999. While it's been called to my attention that here it is 2010 and technology has developed with regard to mobile phones and their availability, ten years ago they were far less readily-available. My father was going to consider purchasing one for me if I performed well on my examinations, but it turned out that I didn't do as well as I hoped, so... I don't have one," he finished lamely.

Quinn was only vaguely paying attention to what he was saying. So he didn't have a cell phone because he failed some tests. The world's tiniest violin no doubt was playing an entire concerto somewhere over that.

Right then, she was stuck on a roof, hot, with no cell phone in sight. "That's too bad," she said vaguely. "Wesley? How far down do you think it is to the first set of windows?"

"Oh, two meters, at least," Wes replied, not aware that this inforation was not likely to be very helpful to an American.

Quinn leaned over the edge of the roof, looking down. She knew prefectly well what a meter was, but she was too annoyed to do even minor mental math. "What's that in feet?" she asked. "Maybe you could lower me down and ..."

And do what? Even if a window was open, it wasn't that much of a slip that it would take to mean death on the cement below.

[OOC: Being called away for a bit!]

"I... I suppose," Wes said hesitantly. Truth be told, he doubted that he even could, but it was either agree or risk offending Quinn by implying that he couldn't lift her. And yes, skinny cheerleaders likely lifted her on a daily basis, but they exercised, while Wes' upper body strength left something to be desired.

"And I'm not certain how many feet are in a meter, but in any event the drop seems rather precarious," he warned her.

"And even if we could reach, I'd have to open a window upside down from the outside," Quinn sighed, stepping back. "I'm not that much of a ninja. I'm guessing you aren't either."

"Certainly not," Wesley answered, laughing weakly. "So I suppose we're stuck with each other, then."

That was a terrifying thought.

"Fantastic," Quinn said, but slumped to sit on the roof. "Got any ideas for ways to pass the time? I spy? Sing-alongs?"

Quinn was not really much good at doing nothing. She considered yelling and trying to make enough noise to attract someone, but she couldn't see that working.

"I can't say I know very many games of that nature," Wes admitted. "At home, my father's response to boredom was to have me practice my fencing, but clearly this is the wrong setting." Mostly because as good as he was with a sword, Wesley had a strong suspicion that Quinn could kick his ass.

"Do you know of any?"

"I'd try it if we had swords," Quinn said.

Mostly because she had a strong suspicion that she could kick his ass, yes.

"I know I Spy and 20 Questions. Or we could try to pick the lock." Enjoying the day and relaxing was clearly not on her menu.

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