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Fourth Floor Common Room | Evening | Monday | June 27

It was nice to be back in the dorms where there were walls and doors and bed that he didn't nearly roll off of every single goddamn morning. It was nice to be able to go down the hall and flop down on a comfortable sofa instead of sitting his ass down on a log and risking splinters in that unpadded area. Yes, he had a flat ass, what of it? It came with the skinniness.

In Nathan's opinion, dorms were much better than cabins and, to him, his opinion was gospel. The telly was on but Nathan wasn't really paying attention to the dill, boring drone of the news. He'd gotten an interesting text from Kelly telling him about their new probation worker (called Shaun, apparently) and how he hadn't tried to kill anyone yet. Sally was still missing in action, apparently. Nathan texted Kelly to ask Simon about that because he had the sneaking suspicion that the little pervert was keeping her in his closet but Kelly just told him to shut the fuck up and be nice.

Nathan scoffed at that text and was now trying to get Kelly to admit she missed him. It wasn't going well. And eventually, he got bored and start channel surfing while he waited for Kelly to stop being such a fucking stick in the mud.

"God, I should just read a book if this shit is all the choice I have to watch," he muttered and made a face as he kept flipping channels.

[Open common room, open post]

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"And the police didn't call it anything since you were both dead. You so got off easy with this power thing of yours. I might be a little jealous." But only a little.

"Well, the power's pretty fucking sweet. It's strictly top level, man," Nathan said, pleased with himself. "But I seriously had to go through some shit to get there. Everyone else got their powers like as soon as the storm ended. I had to die and get buried alive to get mine. Where's the fucking justice in that? Couldn't the Magical Power Giver put something in my Christmas stocking or something?"

Even if he'd had to die to get it, Nathan was still stoked about the power. He was even more stoked that it wasn't Jeremy's power.

"You should be jealous," Nathan added, grinning. "I'm an epic example of a powered up human being. I'm amazing."

"But I could still break your hand arm wrestling," Caroline pointed out. "So it's only really useful if someone kills you, which is kind of twisted given even I spend like, all my time avoiding killing people." And given she was a vampire, Caroline thought that was kind of a big deal.

"I've been working out though," Nathan said and flexed a bicep, showing off...absolutely nothing. His arms were as skinny as they ever were. "Don't diss my power, Caroline. I'll have to start making fun of vampires and I've got a sharp, smart tongue when it comes to insults."

"Ooh, you have vampire jokes you've been storing up? Let's hear 'em. Then I can see just how strong those awesome biceps of yours are." Her smirk should verify she was teasing, just in case he was concerned she would actually hurt him.

"Oh, you want the jokes? You want the jokes? Okay, yeah, I can give you the jokes," Nathan decided, nodding. "See now, you're the first vampire I've known which has maybe spoiled me for all future vampires but hey, I gotta wonder, does all that blood go right through you? I mean, if I drink gallons of water, I'll have to take a piss like whoa. Does that happen to you? I bet it happens to you. Bet that's no fun when you're out hunting for Fluffy. Gotta stop and drop the drawers because dinner is just going right through you! How embarrassing."

Caroline laughed. "Yeah, I don't actually piss blood. And if I drink gallons of water it totally goes right through me, but not the blood. Never have I ever had a bad bag of freshly squeezed people." Look at her giving him reason to be grossed out. "All blood is good blood."

"What if you get poisoned blood?" Nathan asked curiously. "Can blood be poisoned or would you be able to sniff that shit out before you put a straw in the bag and started sipping like it was a margarita?"

"I don't know," she said, actually thinking about it. "Like, if it was spiked with vervain, it would tear up my mouth and throat and I'd probably pass out if I got too much of it. But if it was just like, people poison? Huh, I don't know. You don't have poison, do you?"

"What do you consider poison?" Nathan wondered because he had drugs (though they were well hidden) but it wasn't like he was one to go around, drugging girls either. "Why the fuck would I poison you even if I did have poison? Have you left everything to me in your will thus giving me a reason to poison you and take all your money?"

He wasn't serious, don't worry.

"I don't know, stuff with that Mr. Yuck all over the bottle," she said, remembering back to fifth grade and learning how to call poison control during the first aid unit. "And I wasn't accusing you of trying to poison me, what with not having a will or any of my own money. I'm just curious now."

"I don't tend to carry poison around with me," Nathan assured her, shrugging. "If I get drunk one night, I don't wanna accidentally drink dish soap or battery fluid or hairspray. Granted, I'd just puke all over the place, shit myself, die and come back but it'd be a gross experience."

Could you drink hairspray? Nathan didn't know. "You should have a will." He didn't know why. "And no, not because I'm gonna fucking poison your blood. I'm too afraid of spilling that shit on my clothes and just leaving a huge, red stain."

"It's surprisingly easy to get out of clothes with the right detergent," she shared, having a lot of experience as a messy eater. "But I have no need for a will. I'm already dead. When vampires die, no one cares. There's never a funeral and definitely not a will reading. Just like if you died a second time. Or fifth time. Do you have like, a certain number of deaths? Like the nine lives of a cat?"

"How the hell should I know?" Nathan asked, shrugging. "I've only died once so far and the actual act of dying isn't fun so I'm not really rushing to go play in traffic or let some fuck shoot me in the face just because I know I'll come back. Shit still hurts! You can heal and shit but wouldn't it hurt you if someone shot you in the face?"

"Well duh!" Caroline didn't think she needed to really answer that. "Not that I've tried getting shot. I'm going on assumptions of pain here. Clearly there are things I avoid more than others."

"You ever been stabbed?" Nathan asked, unable to help his curiosity there. "And not like -- "

He mimicked staking and a very, very dramatic, writhing death on the couch before sitting back up again.

"Like, has some girl gotten pissed that you were prettier or better than her and just jammed a nail file in your shoulder or something?"

Oh God, witness her eyes and the rolling and another small pillow launching at his writhing self.

"Oh hush, even if I am prettier and better than all the girls you know doesn't mean I've driven anyone to the edge of violence by nail file. I happen to be nice so any desire to stab me is generally suffocated by how awful it would be to cause me pain and injury." Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Nathan was just going to let that pillow smack him in the face before laughing and tucking it behind his head. At least she wasn't throwing hair dryers this time. That had actually hurt like a motherfucker.

"You're nice?" he asked, widening his eyes comically. "When the fuck did that happen? I must have missed that."

"I'm totally nice," Caroline insisted, laughing at his wide eyes. "You've seen it in action, you can't deny it exists even if you want to."

"You threw a hairdryer at me!" Nathan reminded her, rubbing the back of his head when it throbbed with a sympathy pain. "And then you nearly broke my arm! A nice person would have fallen to hers and wept at my reappearance. I have to go to therapy to get over my hairdryer related fears, you know."

"I thought you were an intruder," she pointed out. "You could've been a rapist in a Nathan costume, which means you're lucky the worst you got was a hairdryer pitched at your head. I could've gone all vampire and sucked you dry!" Caroline paused, wondering. "Though now I'm curious if that would even kill you. Huh."

"You could definitely kill me," Nathan declared, nodding. "There's no doubt about that. You drain me dry, I'm gonna die. That doesn't sound like a very fun way to die either, by the way, even if my blood is the sweetest anyone would ever taste."

He still had no motivation to let anyone change it but still, he figured it'd taste good. "What I'm wondering is if some vampire did strut on up to me and wanted to have an Irish Bloody Mary, could they even convert me? Don't you have to die before you wake up all undead, pale, with a sunlight allergy?"

"There's a lot of steps required," Caroline said, sighing because she knew he just wanted to be special. "If someone was all desperate to turn you, though I really don't know why they'd want to since you'd so never be able to control the blood lust, but if they did, yes, you'd have to die first but after having a little drink of blood on your own."

"Hey, wait!" Nathan said, holding up a hand and frowning at her. "How do you know I wouldn't be able to control myself? I control myself just fine! You've gotta stop these baseless and hurtful assumptions. I'm beginning to think you think that I'm stupid."

"Oh come on, Nate," Caroline sat up, leaning over to wave his hand down and lower her voice. "You like your vices, you can't deny that. Now imagine something that's better than any drug you've ever had, better than the best high - better than sex! Can you picture it?"

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