2nd Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

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Rosalind had entertained the notion of going and visiting Jono at work today, truly she had. She had even made it outside and begun the pleasant walk to town when the bears had started offering her drinks.

… That would be why Rosalind was back in the common room, idly rereading a few reports she was going to revise before sending off to Tseng. The TV played quietly in the background--on a news station, of course--and she considered that to be well enough of an effort to be relaxing.

(Rosalind was special that way.)

This month, Rosalind had decided, was quite weird enough without willingly subjecting herself to more of it. The reports made more sense and were infinitely preferable.

At least, for today.

[Ooopen as a common room is!]

Comments

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Rosalind eyed the bottles in her hands and lifted her shoulders in what could generously be called a shrug. "If they trust liquids that a bear has handled."

... Because she was not going to drink it, no.

[wwiii]

Warren blinked at that statement, and then at the bottle.

... Point, there.

"I think the safety seals haven't been broken yet, though?"

He was trying a little too hard, here.

"Right. I'll pour them down the drain and recycle the bottles, instead. It isn't like Coke is worth its weight in gold or anything, anyhow."

And even if it was, he would be happy to buy some more to make up for the ones that he'd dumped out.

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Better.

"Good," Rosalind said approvingly. "Even if it is merely the island being in good spirits, precautions should be taken."

[wwiii]

"Anti-polar bear precautions," Warren agreed, and then laughed a little, shaking his head as he set the bottles on the counter and started to twist off the caps. "The things that this place gets us to say. I hardly miss a beat anymore before words like that come out of my mouth."

He was kind of getting fond of the weirdness.

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Rosalind gave him a rather dry look as she put her bottles down.

He could get the caps off them. She was not that helpful.

Nor was she particularly fond of the weirdness. "This month has been particularly bad for it," was her response, however.

[wwiii]

"Almost every day," Warren agreed, wrinkling his nose a bit. "I guess even Fandom Island gets into the spirit of the holidays. I probably could have done without the bears, though."

His poor feathers. He'd thought that Yei was rough on them.

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Her lips twitched again.

"You do look rather put upon."

[wwiii]

Warren glanced over his shoulder at his frayed primaries and he heaved a sigh.

"This? Yeah, kind of. I mean, I think they meant well, but there are better ways to get a guy's attention."

And he wasn't a seagull or anything. He had shoulders to tap, too.

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"But so fast?" She was teasing, though the dryness of her voice might make that hard to tell.

[wwiii]

"Well, rearing up on their hind legs and roaring probably would have done the trick," Warren offered.

Only then he probably would have peed himself in terror. Maybe the feather damage was worth it, after all.

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"Would that have truly inclined you to take the drinks?"

Because, no, Rosalind would have shot them then.

[wwiii]

"If a giant bear was roaring in my face and trying to shove a bottle at me?"

...

"No, I probably would have tried to fly away."

At least he was honest?

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And not an idiot!

Rosalind shook her head, pushing away from the counter. "Better to get away than deal with that."

If he couldn't deal with it.

[wwiii]

He... probably couldn't deal with it. It was a difficult call. He had the healing factor, and they had the claws.

"That was my thought, too. But I think they were thinking the same thing." He sighed a little. "I'll be hours, straightening this mess out."

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"I'm sure you have practice," she said, not unkindly. "And at least there's no class."

[wwiii]

"That's true," Warren mused, "I've got plenty of time to worry about it. And it's too cold out to just go flying around casually anyhow, so there's no big rush."

Except for the fact that he looked kind of like the king of the gulls, this way.

"You know, I don't think we've ever been introduced." He offered her a little smile. "I'm Warren."

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"Unless you wish a worse mess to develop while you sleep," Rosalind noted, as she nodded back at him. "Rosalind."

And oh, Rosalind, you had no idea. Yei was the cutest little terror around.

[wwiii]

"Pleased to meet you, Rosalind," Warren replied, smiling a little more. "And I'm kind of used to waking up to worse messes, anyhow. My roommate has a kitten."

A kitten forever. Good for moments where you needed something cute around. Bad for plumage.

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...

"...I feel almost bad for your wings," she settled on.

But not too bad. As, clearly, if he'd had a major problem with it, he'd have arranged to transfer rooms.

[wwiii]

"They've been up against worse," Warren offered, shrugging.

Like bears. And Warren himself.

"My roommate is nice enough, though. And doesn't really mind them, so I wouldn't trade her in for almost anybody."

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"Almost anybody?"

Excuse her for being amused.

[wwiii]

"Almost anybody," Warren agreed, laughing sheepishly. "I might make the trade if it was for my girlfriend, or my best friend. But I don't think I'd ever get any studying done, if I did that."

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"At least you can admit it," she said, almost lightly. "That's something."

[wwiii]

"I like to think that I'm pretty realistic about my own shortcomings," Warren chuckled with a shrug. "Growing up would have been an interesting challenge, otherwise."

His father bad pretty much pounded honesty into him with fear and a harness after walking in on Warren trying to saw off a couple of extraneous body parts.

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She arched an eyebrow curiously.

And wondering if he'd respond to that. Call it a very minor experiment.