fandomhighdorms | The Roof, Monday Afternoon

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The Roof, Monday Afternoon

Well, that was it for another term of workshops, then, and now there was a week to look forward to not a heck of a lot of anything at all.

Zack, of course, was going to kick that off by attempting to get in touch with the Director back in Midgar, to see if there was any important work for him yet. That phone call was met with no answer from Lazard, and so little success. That idea having fallen through, Zack decided to default straight to... Plan B.

...

The view of the clouds was way more awesome from the roof than it was down on the ground! And, in a rare moment of something not unlike planning ahead, Zack had even brought lemonade.

Now he was all set for whatever break week could throw at him, oh yes.

[Open roof, open post! Hi!]

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"It's the ones who aren't supposed to be that you have to watch out for," decided Zack, so very philosophically. "And now you have to face the consequences, man. Do you get to at least pick the dance?"

Hannibal started laughing again. "Nope. She picked the song, I just gotta dance to it. She picked the girliest, most annoying song out there too."

"Which one is that?" Zack was now trying to remember what sort of stuff they even played on the radio on this planet. And then he was attempting to filter out the girly ones.

Zack was a guy whose favorite color was pink and who accidentally hit on guys as a sort of lifestyle detour on a regular basis. He wouldn't know which ones were the girly ones if they jumped out and bit him.

"Something by someone called Beyonce?" Hannibal said, waving a hand. "Single Ladies? Something like that. It's got the world ladies in the title. I'm so doomed."

"I don't know it, sorry." Zack looked pretty apologetic, for all of two seconds, there. "Is there anything I can do to help soften the blow to your ego, at least?"

"Break my leg!" No, he didn't really mean that. "Then I can't dance!"

"Tie you up and shove you in a closet until you have to leave," Zack laughed. "Then I'd feel less guilty about all the screaming you'd do after I smashed you in the shin with the blunt edge of a Buster Sword."

"Okay, that just sounds painful," he said and rubbed his chin sympathetically. "What's a Buster Sword?"

"Pretty much just what it sounds like, actually." Zack picked himself up for a moment, just so that he could hold his hand about five feet off the ground or so. "It's about that long, and about a foot or so wide. Sharp on only one side, too. That's the weapon I use in battle."

Sometimes one-handed.

"That...is a big damn sword," Hannibal said, impressed. "Is it heavy?"

"If it is, I don't really notice," Zack replied with a small shrug. "But the sword that I used before this one was about a third of the size, if not less, and people still had trouble holding it up. So... Probably?"

He wasn't bragging, honest. He just seriously had no idea.

"How much do you bench, if I can ask?" Hannibal asked curiously. "Ino's told me that you're pretty damn diesel."

And another shrug!

"You know, I've never really tried anything with a weight label attached," he admitted. "More than most people can before I strain anything, I guess. I'm not really what people would usually consider normal."

Actually, genetically, he was the exact same as the monsters that were crawling all over his world, back home. That probably explained a bit, right there.

"I was joking with her that I was stronger than you and she very decisively told me that I wasn't. Totally kidding, man, I was just teasing her. I probably am not stronger than you."

And that hurt his huge ego to say.

Zack's smile went a little sympathetic, there.

"Well, for what it's worth, you'd probably be able to kick my butt if I hadn't signed up with SOLDIER. Four years ago? I was just a weird small-town kid with a pointy stick."

Or, well, with a pointy stick and potential, but he hadn't been particularly dangerous or anything. Yet.

"Four years?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You might have just been a small town kid but going that far in four years means you had potential."

"Potential, and some pretty intense genetic enhancements," Zack volunteered. "Members of SOLDIER kind of... forfeit their humanity when they join. Hence the eyes."

The really, really, electric blue ones. He sat down and shot Hannibal a grin, possibly so that they would be easier to see.

"Seriously, man, don't worry about not being as strong as I am. I'd be totally disqualified from a fair arm wrestle, for what it's worth."

"I bet I'm a better dancer!" Because that was something to brag about. "You can take my bet and prove me wrong?"

Well, that would...

...never work.

Zack considered that one for a moment, sure.

"I'd have to be dancing with you in order for anyone to be able to judge," he pointed out.

"Hey, it was worth a shot, right?" Hannibal asked. "Maybe I'd get lucky."

"Well, if you don't want to end up dancing alone, I'm easy enough to find," Zack laughed. "I mean, if you're not afraid that it'll bruise your ego or something."

"When I actually do this, I'm probably gonna have an audience," he laughed. "If you wanna be in the crowd, cheer me on, that'd be ace."

"I think I can handle a few whistles from afar, man. You'll probably need all of the encouragement you can get, huh?"

And who better for it than his blue-eyed man-crush?

"Yeah. It'll be good to hear that over the jeers and the laughter," he said, snickering. "And Kate taking pictures."

"I can take pictures, too," Zack offered, because he was so caring that way! "And then I'll make prints just so that you can burn them, if you like."

See! Caring!

The Roof, Monday Afternoon

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