Warren Worthington III (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wwiii) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhighdorms2011-03-03 03:54 pm
wwiii) wrote in fandomhighdorms2011-03-03 03:54 pm
3rd Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening
It was definitely going to be one of those evenings. One of those weird ones. The sort that reminded unsuspecting passers-by that, in no uncertain terms, they were living on Fandom Island.
How did it manage such a thing?
Well, that there were two boys in the common room, exchanging gossip, probably wasn't all that new. That they were in their underwear, on the other hand, was probably an indication that things were a little off. One of the boys, the one who was wearing the world's most boring grey boxer shorts, was at least still wrapped in black leather from his nose down to his navel. The other, in white briefs, had his large white wings folded behind him.
Both of them were quite comfortable on the floor, surrounded by cushions from the couch, sparkly make-up, and girly teen magazines. Warren was painting his fingernails in a vivid shade of sparkly blue. Jono was hugging a pillow to his chest, reaching over occasionally to pet a bewildered kitten with a big pink bow around her neck, while reading off the questions to an 'Is He Really Into You' quiz to Warren.
By the end of the quiz, it became apparent that whoever 'he' was, they simply weren't as into Warren as he might have hoped, and with an indignant squeal of "Omigod! Not fair," the winged one capped his nail polish, reached for his pillow, bounced to his feet, and let Jonothon have it.
Oh, it was on.
[I totally blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
glacial_witch and trigons_child for this one. The common room is open, for anyone who wants to either rescue the boys from this indignity, pull out a video camera, or join in the pillow fight!]
How did it manage such a thing?
Well, that there were two boys in the common room, exchanging gossip, probably wasn't all that new. That they were in their underwear, on the other hand, was probably an indication that things were a little off. One of the boys, the one who was wearing the world's most boring grey boxer shorts, was at least still wrapped in black leather from his nose down to his navel. The other, in white briefs, had his large white wings folded behind him.
Both of them were quite comfortable on the floor, surrounded by cushions from the couch, sparkly make-up, and girly teen magazines. Warren was painting his fingernails in a vivid shade of sparkly blue. Jono was hugging a pillow to his chest, reaching over occasionally to pet a bewildered kitten with a big pink bow around her neck, while reading off the questions to an 'Is He Really Into You' quiz to Warren.
By the end of the quiz, it became apparent that whoever 'he' was, they simply weren't as into Warren as he might have hoped, and with an indignant squeal of "Omigod! Not fair," the winged one capped his nail polish, reached for his pillow, bounced to his feet, and let Jonothon have it.
Oh, it was on.
[I totally blame
glacial_witch and trigons_child for this one. The common room is open, for anyone who wants to either rescue the boys from this indignity, pull out a video camera, or join in the pillow fight!]
no subject
She grabbed the nail polish and held it up for them. "Keep talking and I'll fix some of the damage to your nails."
no subject
And there went Warren, giving his hands a clap before plopping himself down on the floor beside Karla. Because, clearly, the best place in the world to do one's nails with a friend was on the floor!
"Well, okay, he's, like, so cute, okay? He's got the most amazing blue eyes and his hair is great, and, between you and me? I think his dad is so, so totally loaded."
Because, you know, a hot boy with a rich dad should be a selling point for Warren.
no subject
To Jono, she added, "Do you have that quiz yet?"
no subject
For a guy who insisted up and down that he couldn't sing anymore, Jono sure as hell managed the impressive singsong voice as he made his way back toward Warren and Karla.
He was walking like there was totally some junk in his trunk.
There was something terribly wrong about that.
//Flipped open to the right page, and, like, everything.//