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Fifth Floor Common Room | Afternoon | Thursday | January 13

For the most part, Bod's week had been quiet. He'd enjoyed both of his classes for different reasons and now had nothing to really occupy his time until next week. He'd gone for a walk earlier and where he'd made the realization that he desperately needed a new coat. His was becoming threadbare and useless.

After that, he'd come back to the dorms with the fruits of his walk: a bag of pastries from the local bakery. It seemed like it'd been too long since he'd had sweets and he intended to correct that right now.

Of course, Bod was strange enough to separate out the pastries and put them each on their own plate so he (or anyone else, really) wouldn't have to go digging into a glaze filled back to get what they wanted.

It was a late breakfast but it was still a breakfast, wasn't it? And Bod hadn't cooked it on his own which meant no one's taste buds would be affected.

[Open as common rooms tend to be, yes yes]

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The little empath in her could perhaps detect Bod's mood from a distance, which was enough to drag Charlie from whatever dark corner she had been.

And look, sweets!

"Why..." She just had to stare at the plates for a moment, just pointing at each of the plates. "...you know, why bother with putting them like that?" And then, manners happened.

"Uh, hi."

"I don't know," Bod answered honestly, shrugging and looking up at her. "Why not? It's a good way to prevent sticky hands by not reaching into a pastry filled bag, at the very least. Plus, I could see what I was taking. Hullo there."

Charlie shrugged, not expecting such a well thought answer. You won this one, Bod. "You, my friend, are a seriously efficient young man", said with a little girl and a fake mocking tone as she inspected the pastries. Then, and because it was never too late to ask. "May I?"

"Please do, there's plenty," Bod said, taking a donut for himself. "I tend to buy a lot and just eat them over the course of several days. This many tend to last awhile as long as they don't go stale."

Charlie helped herself with a muffin. "Why buy more than you will eat?", asked before biting half the poor muffin's top.

"Oh, I'll eat them, I just don't eat them all at once," Bod explained, shrugging a shoulder. "I've discovered a bit of a sweet tooth, it seems. I didn't have a lot of sweets when I was a child so I take advantage of my opportunities."

Charlie munched in contemplative silence. Really now, this was a demanding conversation. Once she considered she could speak again, she nodded a bit. "I say, if a sweet can't brighten your day, you are seriously screwed." Shy wouldn't as why he didn't have much sweets because she couldn't imagine a ghost in a bakery. Or she could, but she doubted the ghost in question would be there for the pastries.

"Better candy than coffee, I would say. Or cigarettes." Or fire, but shhh.

"I don't smoke so I don't really have a comparison there," Bod admitted, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't think I'd be very good at it anyway. You're a smoker?"

A little frown of concentration crossed Charlie's face. "Not for...nearly two months. It has to be, like, the end of the world for me to grab a smoke. Those things aren't healthy." But when she did smoke...well, she was a chimeney; she had the fire already, anyway.

"And nobody is a good smoker", added. "Everyone pretends to look good because someone started the trend back in the day when it was everything but a health issue waiting to happen."

"Well, I'm sure I'd be at the lower end of that scale," he amended with a small smile. "It's not something I've tried or intend to try and that's quite the thing for me since I'll try almost everything once. I'd just rather...not. I'll do other things to get my supposed oral fixation."

That just got a mildly amused shrug from Charlie. "Dude, you are better off not trying what the smart people say it could kill you. Curiosity does go just so far, trust me." And since she knew she was a crappy smoker, Charlie was just going to console herself thinking that Bod might actually set a new low on the smoking scale.

"You can always sing. Wait, that doesn't solve a thing. Play the flute?" And where there was a muffin, now was air.

"I'm not a very good singer and I think I'd have to learn to play the flute before I played it well," he said, laughing briefly. "I doubt I have the money to acquire a flute either. I've just started working and that's going into savings so I can have a comfortable cushion."

"Comfortable cushion?"

Watch Charlie getting all embarrassed for a moment there. Because her own cushion in her room? She felt it was perfect. Of course, she had slept in a graveyard before that so there was no point of comparison. "I kind of left my savings back at home, so I get your point. It never hurts to be prepared anyway. But a cushion? I don't know, if I were to camp on the graveyard over summer..." Picnic with the Dead, she would make it a trend.

"I didn't mean a literal cushion," he clarified, shaking his head. "I meant that I'll have enough money to comfortably use to support myself and buy things I enjoy. It's just a...sort of slang, I guess. A comfortable cushion of money to get myself started in the world."

"...I see." Way to make a girl feel silly. "And that's the idea, right? Not depending exclusively of your job, and being able to afford something if an emergeny happens." Unless it was the sort of emergency where you couldn't drag your metaphorical cushion with you.

But there was something else. "And what do you want to get yourself started in the world on?"

"I don't really know," he admitted after a short pause. "Apparently, though, money is more important than I thought if you want to remain important in this world."

If there was bitterness in his tone, he tried to disguise it quickly. "I'd just like to have it in case of emergency. For the longest time, others spent money on me and I don't want that to happen again."

In Charlie's opinion, the bitterness was just another thing she was going to pretend she didn't hear. Because it would obviously end well to poke at that one thing. "Fucked up world, Bod. Don't let that get you." Okay, she was going to say something, but that was it.

"Well, good luck? Right now I only want money so I can stop consider me broke. After that...who knows."

"The world's already gotten to me," Bod said, more factually than anything else. He shrugged and looked over at the television that wasn't even on. "And I'm sure it's not done yet. I think it's more of a matter of coping with the world than avoiding it all together."

She had to laugh, really. A good natured, clear laugh, for once. Grabbing a donut, Charlie let herself fall on the couch, staring at the television. If she had been the kind of person that actually touched people, she would have patted his back. Or punch him on the shoulder, or another cliche.

"Nobody, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Bod didn't really smile but he raised his eyebrows and nodded a few times. "Perhaps it is. I don't see anything wrong with that either."

Edited 2011-01-14 02:47 (UTC)

That was the right reaction, in Charlie's opinion. "Well of course. I wouldn't use that line lightly." It was important to point it out.

"...and, you know, everyone needs friends." Even her.

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Fifth Floor Common Room | Afternoon | Thursday | January 13

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