2nd Floor Common Room ; Thursday Evening

[necroslacker]

Exploring Iceland had been fun enough (though he was sure his skin was still red in places from that hot spring) but Sam was really feeling the whole slacker in the guise of a couch potato thing tonight. He'd done well enough with that gig in Seattle, he figured he could transfer it to this place. Yeah, he wasn't the same slacker he was but he still knew how to loaf with the best of them.

Really, all that was required was some food (easily solved by ordering Chinese takeout, thank you island food places) and something good on the television. That was a little harder since there was a lot of crap on these days but Sam eventually settled on some cooking show that made him miss Ramon's mom's cooking.

Maybe he'd call Ramon and Frank a little later on and try to grease the wheels to see if he could get a care package sent out here or something. For now, the Chinese food would do.

[Open common room, open post]

Comments

[necroslacker]

Sam figured there were worse things to be compared to besides a hippie. He even held up a peace sign and said, "Peace, love and understanding."

Okay, that sounded really damn dry coming out of his mouth and he shook his head. "You only roll around in the mud every other day?"

[hurtingzeebo]

"Boring," Sam noted to the hippie motto. "And I save mud dips for special occasions."

[necroslacker]

"Special occasions like...?" Really, that was too interesting of a thing to say and not elaborate.

[hurtingzeebo]

"Well, there was the time we got dumped by the side of the road in Japan." That totally counted as a special occasion. "And sometimes we might have a gag going on our web show." Though usually, she made sure someone else had to do that sort of thing.

[necroslacker]

"Web show?" And see, one question just opened up a multitude of others. "You one of those people that's famous on the internet? I bet that's fun."

Or maybe it wasn't. Sam had a laptop but it served more as a paperweight and a paper plate than anything else.

[hurtingzeebo]

Freddie would have a fit if he knew that. "Yep. Won an iWeb award and everything. That's why we were in Japan."

[necroslacker]

"And did your internet fame run out or something?" Sam asked before gesturing around the common room. "We're not in Japan, if you couldn't tell."

Though, Iceland was pretty damn exotic.

[hurtingzeebo]

Sam groaned. "No, the judge just didn't think it was much of an excuse." She sighed. "We're still gonna do it, though. I got my tech producer to come here with me."

[necroslacker]

"The judge?" And there were more and more questions coming now. "You a juvenile delinquent? Am I talking to a known felon? You're not wearing one of those tracking ankle bracelets, are you?"

[hurtingzeebo]

"I'm not a delinquent," Sam protested. "I've only been arrested five times, and I totally call my probation officer when I'm supposed to."

Yes, because that totally made her not a delinquent.

[necroslacker]

"Five times?" Sam exclaimed, unable to hold his laughter in at that one. "Five times, really? How old are you? You can't be more than like..."

Well.

"Sixteen or something. How are you not clinking a metal can against jail bars and singing some lonely song? Five times!"

[hurtingzeebo]

Sam pouted at him. It wasn't that often. It was nothing at all compared to most of her family.

"I'm seventeen. And I'm very cute."

[necroslacker]

"Who said anything about the cute factor?" Sam wondered, still laughing. "Or is that the reason that you survived the pokey? No one touches the cute inmates or something?"

[hurtingzeebo]

"Well, that and I can beat most of 'em up." Sam was super scrappy. "Seattle Juvenile Detention didn't know what hit it."

[necroslacker]

"What did you do that got you arrested five times?" Sam wondered, circling back to that. "Or do they arrest people for being cute wherever you're from?"

[hurtingzeebo]

"Which time?" Sam got in trouble in all kinds of ways. "This last time, it was because I dumped a smoothie on a cop's head. Before that, it was chili down the pants of the Mexican Ambassador."

[necroslacker]

"Let me guess, you have a problem with authority," Sam said drolly. He reached for an eggroll and took a bite before laughing again. "And now you're here, away from parental supervision. Planning on going for a sixth time?"

[hurtingzeebo]

"Maybe. Turns out the police around here wear armor."

[necroslacker]

"...how do you already know that?" Sam had to ask. "I'm pretty sure that's not in the brochure unless we got vastly different brochures."

[hurtingzeebo]

"My big sib. Unless it was part of his whole cosplay routine." Which was a possibility, but, really, armored police weren't any weirder than vikings.

[necroslacker]

"Who's your big sibling?" Sam asked. "Besides someone who has an intimate knowledge of what the island police force wears. Obviously a help trait, that is."

[hurtingzeebo]

"He calls himself 'Spock'. Just my luck to end up with someone with a terminal case of nerd."

[necroslacker]

"Spock," Sam repeated, trying that unfamiliar name out. Apparently, he'd gotten lucky with a big sibling with a simple name like Bobby. "You telling me you don't think you could get through armor? Guess your streak's come to an end then."

[hurtingzeebo]

"I never said that," Sam protested. "I just . . . don't feel like a challenge, just yet."

[necroslacker]

Sam snickered and chewed idly on the ends of his fork. "So, instead you're stealing food from people you don't know because you're working up to messing with the police force? If that's the case, let me tell you, you've got a long ways to go until you work your way up to the cops."