http://wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com/ (
wesleynotponcy.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2010-07-17 10:50 am
Fourth Floor Common Room, Saturday Afternoon
Wesley did not have visitors, and he didn't much like disturbing those who did. The feeling of interrupting what could be a person's last chance to see a loved one was not what he would term a pleasant sensation. So to the common room it was, based on some bizarre notion that no one with visitors might possibly join him there. That was logical.
He settled on one of the couches with a book in hand that he actually hadn't read before. (That was a first.) Well, it was a nicer place to read than his own room, anyway.
[Common room is open, of course.]

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Once words started to blur and, he was pretty sure on one occasion, move across the page, he knew it was time for a break. Besides that, he was feeling a little hungry. Thus, Alexander made his way over to the common room, and maybe find out if that whole "helping yourself to food" thing was true.
In the case that it wasn't, he'd only take a little bit. He was used to doing that; just enough that wouldn't go noticed.
The other boy on the couch, however, did go noticed, recognizable as that gentleman he'd met before the shuttle.
"Ah, hello," Alexander greeted him with a nod. "Wesley, wasn't it?"
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Lucky guess.
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That last bit he said with a chuckle, one that was entirely good natured and surprisingly not in the least bit ironic.
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If by adjusting he meant ravenously absorbing every bit of knowledge he could about alternate dimensions and recording them in a file cabinet, then yes, he was adjusting.
"And yourself?"
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The drifting of those last words easily suggested that his thoughts had not only turned to those 'other things' yet again, but he suddenly wished he was pursuing them more, despite having done so all morning.
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Yeah, he had officially lost his membership to the Polite, Non-Inquisitive Brits Club, but he was curious and he wanted to know, damnit.
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"Well," he said, "actually, perhaps you could help, although no one so far seems to have been able to. But, have you ever heard of the Land of the Green Isles before?"
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"I can't say that I have," Wes confessed, disappointed. "What is it?"
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"I see," he said dispassionately. "No one has, really. It's a land, one that I'm starting to believe doesn't exist at all, only I can't believe that! It must! Otherwise..."
But he trailed off, as if the rest of that sentiment was far too devastating to even give a voice.
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Considering how Alexander turned as red as the dashing scarf he had on today, the way he became instantly nervous, and the emphasis he put on the word, friend was very clearly an understatement.
"She's invited me to visit, but it's almost as if the place doesn't even exist!"
And the thought that Cassima had maybe pulled something on him, that she did make it up to throw him off and be rid of him, was too horrible to bear. Sure, he may have come on a little strong, but who could blame him? He was in love!
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And there was also something more offensive yet on the radio. "Wesley," she said, entering the common room. "So you think it's Victorian for a girl not to want to kiss another girl she barely knows?"
The answer she wanted was pretty clear from her tone.
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"Radio seems to be the province of small-minded, judgmental people with nothing better to do than insulting people they don't know," she said primly. "I'll live, it's just stupid."
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Which was slander, surely. It was one thing for that loud, irritating boy in thr graveyard to think so, but quite another for the radio announcer, who was representing the school, to agree.
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She would have had a stronger point if she hadn't been talking about the Winchesters, yes.
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"So, how has your week been?" he asked, resigned to letting go of the radio issue. "Any more stubborn doors trapping you in unpleasant situations?"
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He'd gone into this with Quinn before, or he thought he had. Anyone he'd spoken to for a prolonged period of time since his first classes had gotten an earful about how much he detested that class.
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