http://daventryprince.livejournal.com/ (
daventryprince.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2010-10-06 06:51 pm
Entry tags:
Fourth Floor Common Room; Wednesday Evening [ 10/06 ].
It had been an interesting Wednesday for Alexander, what with a fake cat at the store that he was pretty sure was following him and then his usual issues with the reserves meeting. Top that all off with the demands that had come from his mother after his visit, and he was feeling the need for something grounding that didn't take too much concentration on his nice little bag of issues.
That, of course, meant turning to cooking. And, so that the habitual activity wouldn't bring up other facets of his past, he was at least challenging himself with making something new. After all, he'd enjoyed so many different pizzas on the island before, yet he had failed to actually make one himself.
He was finding it to be fairly successful thus far. And perfectly cathartic, as well.
[[ open common room is open, of course! PIIIZZZAAAA. I want pizza now. Figures. ]]
That, of course, meant turning to cooking. And, so that the habitual activity wouldn't bring up other facets of his past, he was at least challenging himself with making something new. After all, he'd enjoyed so many different pizzas on the island before, yet he had failed to actually make one himself.
He was finding it to be fairly successful thus far. And perfectly cathartic, as well.
[[ open common room is open, of course! PIIIZZZAAAA. I want pizza now. Figures. ]]

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"You don't mean...."
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And perhaps a deft change in the conversation, because the moving picture was prepared and any further thinking on this topic would threaten his attempts not to laugh again.
"So what is the picture of choice this time around?" he asked.
Not laughing. Not laughing, really.
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And not overzealous flirts.
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"Zombies?" Alexander asked, getting up from the television to plop on the sofa with a glance at the timer on the pizza. Then he shook his head. "People of this realm choose such bizarre things to make moving pictures about."
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Yes. Normal. Because a guy who was enslaved by an evil wizard since birth and a vampire knew all about normal.
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"Perhaps," he allowed. "I still can't see zombies managing to fill a whole moving picture, though."
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"Blaaarg, grrrraaaw, and urrrrgh is considered chatty?"
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"...well, if they don't have jaws."
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Pause.
"I mean, besides brains, of course."
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He considered that a moment, and found that he liked how it supported his decision to turn Manannan into a cat. He'd often wondered if it would have been easier to just kill the man, but Manannan was exactly the sort to be more zealous than the average person, yes.
He frowned as he turned on the television and started the movie. "I guess we'll find out, then, which it is in this case."
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"On what terms, precisely? How talkative our zombies turn out to be?"
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Yeah, this was gonna end well.
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Was it terrible that he was thinking of asking that it be his shirt?
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"If I win, I get one of those bags to store my clothing the next time I turn into bats."
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And not just because Alexander wanted to keep the rest of his shirts.
Really.
"Alright, then," said Alexander, nodding. "And, if I win, you get to bring me a cup of your finest coffee every Wednesday to help get me through my shift at the shop."
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