Third Floor Common Room, Saturday Morning

[lockestheway]

Peter prided himself in being able to adapt to any situation in a short span of time. By the end of this week, he was genuinely no longer thrown by their current location. Skeptical of half the stories that had been told him, yes, but a touch of healthy skepticism had never helped anyone.

He'd also noticed the importance everyone here seemed to put on their friendships with one another. Their little common room get-togethers. And, wel, it was obvious he was already a little behind, PR-wise, here. So what else could he do but move his ass to the common room in the morning and set out some cereal? Enough to make it look like a properly catered breakfast.

It took a little planning, sure. But if his brother had managed to make friends here - of course he had - then he'd just have to pretend to be just as loveable as Ender to get ahead.

So, cereal, a stack of plates, bread, stuff like that. And Peter with a bowl of cornflakes, watching the news.

[[ open! ]]

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[dollpocalypse]

Again with this third floor pride. But hey, free breakfast was free breakfast. He wandered in and took a bowl, then poured in a ton of cereal and comparatively little milk. Whatever, he was in this for the cereal anyway. He brought his bowl and a spoon over the couch and flopped down on it, ignoring the way the milk spilled.

"Hey."

Social skills. They existed.

[lockestheway]

Hey, third floor pride was a useful instrument if you wanted to make allies and paint a favorable picture of yourself without putting in too much effort. And it was easy to piggyback on, thanks, Kate. But whatever, Peter didn't expect anyone else to grasp that.

"Hey," he returned. "Don't I know you from the shuttle or something?"

Like seeing him from afar whilst Peter was busy mentally whining plotting the death of his parents?

[dollpocalypse]

"Probably, yeah," Topher said, actually having the decency to stop a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth in order to respond. "I'm Topher."

[lockestheway]

This guy wasn't a big communicator, was he?

"Peter," he offered, poking his spoon through his own cereal. "So what brings you to summer camp, Topher? Parents being a pain in the ass?"

[dollpocalypse]

Nah. Communication was part of that whole "socialization" thing, and Topher was just plain bad at that.

"Yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. "Something about getting kicked out of school, or whatever. You?"

[lockestheway]

Oh, lovely. How many more juvenile delinquents did this school house? In his head, Peter could see the headlines again: Demagogue Actually Criminally Insane 15-Year-Old.

He gave Topher a smile that was only a bit sour if you paid attention to it. "My parents thought summer camp would be an 'educational experience'," he said.

[dollpocalypse]

"Oh, gross," Topher said, wrinkling his nose. Because seeing ancient Egypt and future Japan was totally not educational.

It really was a shame he couldn't read Peter's narrative. Too bad Peter would be stuck with him a little while longer.
"So, uh," he said, around another spoonful of cereal. "You like it here?"

[lockestheway]

Locke Unmasked: Opinion Leader Turns Out To Be Aspiring Mob Leader, Peter thought. Or worse: Locke: Tricked Into A Mad House By His Own Parents. How Stupid Is He?

"It's... definitely different than North Carolina," Peter offered. "And that's not even going into the shifting scenery. How about you?"

[dollpocalypse]

Topher shrugged one shoulder. "You'd think living in LA would've prepared me for weirdness," he said. Like hiding out in his basement and playing video games 24/7 counted as living in LA.

"It didn't."

[lockestheway]

"A big city kind of guy, huh," Peter said, thoughtfully. Of course he was. Weren't they the major crime centers? He wondered how much time this guy had done in juvie. Could he chalk that up to 'helping to rehabilitate' too, if the papers ever got a hold of it? "I hear the schools there can be tough."

[dollpocalypse]

Oh, Peter. Changing his grade in the school database to make it look like he ever attended an English class and rolling his eyes at some teachers was enough to get kicked out of private school, but certainly not for juvie.

"Nah, I went to a whole bunch of preppy schools," Topher corrected him. "Not tough, just annoying."

[lockestheway]

Well, that did change matters a little. Some of the ready tension went out of Peter's shoulders. A difficult private school kid, he could handle. "So they sent you to another special school?"

[dollpocalypse]

"Yup." Done with his cereal now, Topher got up and put his bowl back in the stack of bowls on the table. "School number nine, or something. So what's your story?"

[lockestheway]

"Me? Like I said, my parents just thought it was a good idea to send me to summer camp to 'prepare me for my future career'," Peter said, rolling his eyes and actually letting out all the disdain he felt about that thought. "Because being a straight A student just isn't good enough."

[dollpocalypse]

"I hear you, man," Topher sympathized immediately. "My parents are all 'Topher, you need to socialize.' Like being a genius who can do anything with computers isn't good enough."

[lockestheway]

Peter nodded. Hey, he was a genius who could do anything with public opinion. He didn't need a career boost. "Right?" he said. "Oh, man. Think of how terrible it would be if they were actually right, and we'd have to rely on the gifts of our parents to get ahead. Please."

This could wind up being a really terrifying partnership for the rest of the planet...

[dollpocalypse]

Topher laughed, visualizing it clearly. As if any of the geniuses he'd ever heard about had known a damn thing about social interaction.

"It'd be the worst," he laughed. "You'd have cheerleaders running everything. Which has its pros, but..."

Clearly this was an alliance in the making. One that the rest of the planet should fear.

[lockestheway]

"We'd all wind up stuck in World War Fifteen the first time one of them went on the rag," Peter said, because he was a classy dude. "Or someone lost a hairclip. No, I don't think I'll be depending on summer camp to get me ahead. I haven't really met anyone who exuded 'president potential' here yet."

[dollpocalypse]

"My roommate might be one of those guys," Topher volunteered, amused. "Except no offense to him and all, but I'm not so sure I'd want him running anything. We'd probably end up with, like, post-apocalyptic Japan."

He gestured toward the window.

Ah, Topher. Little did he know that he'd be the one to cause the apocalypse. Try again.

[lockestheway]

And here was Peter, plotting to make sure the apocalypse didn't happen, and he was actually going to succeed at it too.

Sorry, Topher.

"Humanity likes to try to blow itself up every once in a while," Peter said, following the line of Topher's gesture towards the window with his eyes. "Unless someone has enough guts and brains to actually stop it. Cheerleaders would really be bad for business."

[dollpocalypse]

Huh.

Topher nodded, considering that first part.

"Well, you know," he said thoughtfully. "Cheerleaders in charge might mean the world might actually need blowing up."

He had a very strange sense of retribution.

[lockestheway]

"Cheerleaders in charge might mean I'd have to put a bullet in my head," Peter said, cheerfully. "But thankfully, our parents' generation has no idea how to deal with anything outside the bog-standard paths, or what makes someone rise to the top of their game."

He paused, and eyed Topher. "Got any interesting hobbies?"

[dollpocalypse]

Thankfully, that was true, yes. But for people as manipulative as the two of them, that could only be a good thing.

"Video games," Topher laughed. "Programming." He hesitated, then added, "Looking up brains." As clarification, he said, "I have a thing about brains."

"You?"

[lockestheway]

"Nothing that intricate. Just blogging, keeping up with current events, taking college classes," Peter said, idly, though especially the former two weren't idle subjects at all.

He just wasn't used to dealing with people as smart as he was. Yet.

[dollpocalypse]

Topher nodded. He too was pretty much a stranger to other smart people. It was why private schools had never really worked for him. Kids whose parents had bought their way into school were rarely intelligent enough to impress him.

"'s cool," he said. "And this future career your parents want you to prepare for is...?"