fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room [evening]

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Fifth Floor Common Room [evening]

Sookie was feeling restless. It was partially the dreams about Gran, partially the compulsion to go out to the woods, and partially something she couldn't quite place. She was resisting the urge to walk out through mulch to find things, though, so instead, she took to her common room to bake brownies.

Lots of brownies. Lots, and lots of brownies. Cookies had occurred to her, too, but she wanted heaping doses of chocolate, really. Some of the brownies had walnuts. Some of them had chocolate chips. Some even had little candies. But the batter itself didn't change, and she was able to distract herself by baking several dozen brownies.

Hopefully she'd be able to get someone else to eat some. Because even while slightly confused, Sookie couldn't eat 48 brownies herself.

[open CR is open!]

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Wes lived on the fourth floor, but as he tended to get bored in his room with nothing to do except read, he tended to wander. He knocked gently on the door, not wanting to intrude even if the door was open.

"Come on in!" Sookie drawled, tilting her head to see who was there and smiling a little. "Have a brownie."

In polite British fashion, Wesley replied, "Oh - thank you," caught off guard by the Southern hospitality. He took the plainest-looking brownie he could and nibbled on it. "This is quite good," he said admiringly.

"Thanks," she said with a bright smile. "Have as many as you want. Are you new?"

It was a guess. His was an unfamiliar brain signature, plus she hadn't seen him around.

"Ah - yes," he admitted. "Is it quite so blatant? I'd rather hoped I'd managed to adjust to the point that I no longer seem quite so new."

"I just don't recognize you, honey, and I've been here awhile. You don't smell like new kid or anything," she replied, shaking her head reassuringly before sticking out a hand. "Sookie Stackhouse. Welcome to Fandom."

Oh. So it wasn't the over-politeness that threw her. Good, 'cause he'd already had that pointed out to him by a few people as something he should stop doing.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," he replied, shaking her hand formally. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," she grinned. "Where're you from, Wesley? I'm gonna guess England but I've been wrong before."

"Correct," he said with a laugh. "Though I'm told the accent and the 'quite's and 'rather's are a bit of a tell. And based on your accent I would place you in... Louisiana, perhaps?"

"Hey, new guy," Bobby greeted cheerfully around a mouthful of brownie. "What's up?"

"Hello," said Wesley, debating extending a hand to the other boy to shake given that he wanted to avoid getting brownie crumbs all over himself. He settled on a handshake-less introduction. "I'm Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. It's nice to meet you."

"Bobby," Bobby introduced himself. "Drake. Not that there's that many other Bobbys out there that you might get confused? Though there's a couple other Drakes."

Wesley laughed. "I don't know of any other Wesleys either, but then again I've not even been here three weeks yet, so I may be missing something."

"I haven't met any," Bobby confirmed. "And I've been here... a year?" he blinked, shaking his head a little at that realization. "Huh.

"That's quite impressive," said Wes, who couldn't imagine having a year's worth of memories and knowledge about this place. "And do you - enjoy it?" he asked.

"Oh yeah!" Bobby said enthusiastically. "I mean, it's downright bizarre sometimes but it's- better where I'm from, at least."

"I'm beginning to harbor that opinion as well," Wesley remarked dryly. Couldn't get much worse than being hated by literally everyone he knew.

(no subject)

longislandiceme - 2010-07-15 04:52 (UTC) - Expand

The combination of Sookie and food meant the chances of Bobby appearing in the common room were somewhere around 99%.

Or, well, 100%, since there he was. "I hope you saved some for me," he commented.

"These brownies are all promised to my other boyfriends," she told him sadly.

Bobby narrowed his eyes at her. "There are no other boyfriends," he said, pointing an accusing finger.

"Well, gosh, you're right. So I guess since I don't have other boyfriends, one or two of these could be spared for the one I do have," she said, smiling at him.

"And by one or two you mean one or two dozen, of course," Bobby corrected cheekily, reaching over to grab a brownie with rainbow sprinkles.

"I baked enough for that, if you wanted," she said, pulling out yet another tray of brownies, this set with peanut butter cups baked into them. "Feel free. I'm not eating them all."

"Well, I'm hardly one to turn down a challenge," Bobby smirked. "Is there a reason you made enough dessert for an army?"

She could totally lie, and it occurred to her to do so. But this was Bobby, and she'd feel bad about brushing it off with some excuse.

"I've been having weird dreams and I have this feeling like I'm supposed to do something," she admitted. "Keeping my hands busy seemed like a better idea than stomping around in the woods."