fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning

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Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning

The current bit of madness at the school was basically Petra's worst nightmare. She was thankfully unaffected, but she'd spent most of last night running through a jungle in her dreams, chased by a giant frilled snake wearing a Yale sweatshirt. The snake kept calling her 'JT,' and when she'd caught a glimpse of herself in a pool of water, the face peering back at her hadn't been hers. That had been when she'd woken up and decided sleep was no longer happening.

So she'd thrown on a sweatshirt over her pajamas and dragged herself into the common room, where she started a pot of coffee, then made a breakfast for herself of some leftover cake she'd found in the kitchen as she gazed semiblankly at the television screen, where a Spanish soccer game was going on. She didn't know anything about soccer except that Cristiano Ronaldo and David Beckham were hot, but some of these guys were pretty decent, too, and it was kind of hypnotizing, so she left it on. She had a vague idea some of these guys might be Basque. Or maybe Martian. Agirretxe? How did you even say that?

((Open common room!))

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"Thanks, man," Sam said appreciatively. "I'm not sure when that might come into play here considering the types of classes but if it does, you'll be the first place I go."

He didn't need to end up failing out of high school after dropping out. "No science club here. Doing stuff on your own to keep up the skills?"

"Not taking any of the online classes?" Marshall asked. "Are you not planning on university, then?" His tone was neutral; he was curious, not judgmental. "Sometimes I wish my parents would give me that option."

No, Marshall. You really don't; you're way too much of a geek.

"Probably not," Sam answered honestly, shrugging. "I've got some things going on back home that might prevent a full time load of academia no matter how much I wanna experience dorm life and bad campus food."

It was too bad that he had the money to go to college but everything else would keep him away. "You heading to college? You can take a few extra classes for me."

"I'll make sure to sign up for intro to skateboarding, if they offer it," Marshall assured him, grinning.

Really, Marshall had everything going for him to go... as long as he could find the money somewhere. At least Canadian universities were, on the whole, cheaper than American.

"Meanwhile, I will happily take classes on strategy and famous battles that allow us to reenact them, because where else am I going to find a school like this?"

"You've been reenacting battles?" Sam asked, interested. "Like Civil War stuff where you're Confederacy or Union and use fake guns?"

Hey, it was the only kind of reenactment he'd ever heard of thus far. "You wear a fake beard? I bet that's fun."

Marshall shook his head. "No, it's this class on famous battles in literature. Like, we've done the Trojan War so far, and we're in the middle of MacFinlay. We study the battle one week, and the next we're in the Danger Shop. Troy we just got to explore, but I guess we're going to be doing actual reenactment stuff, too."

"History was never really my thing but maybe I would have paid more attention if my classes had been like that," Sam admitted with a nod. "I've been spending my time in a class about not being evil and a class where one assignment was about licking doorknobs."

Jamie Madrox was insane. Insaaaaaaaaane. "I didn't lick a doorknob so don't start imagining that. Metal's not really my thing."

"Licking." Blink. "Doorknobs. What class is that?"

Give him a moment; Marshall's brain just broke at the idea of a class with absolutely no redeeming academic value.

"I don't even know if it has a name," Sam said after he'd thought about it for a second. "Ever heard of Jamie Madrox? He teaches it. Fun if you're into that kind of insanity, I guess."

"I think I prefer my insanity less..." Marshall frowned. "Insane. That's just. What else does he have you doing?"

"We had to dress up and sing for a teacher last week," Sam replied, scratching his cheek. "The teacher was...less than pleased. I think he might have killed Professor Madrox but I didn't stick around to see the bloodbath."

Marshall just kinda stared for a moment before shaking his head. "Note to self," he said. "Never, ever sign up for a class with Professor Madrox.

"You said your other class is about not being evil?"

"Yep." The content of that class was a little strange but maybe he'd see the lessons later on in life. "No one wants to be evil, right? I figured I'd try to get a jump on that."

Marshall smirked a little. "Is that a concern for you?" he asked. "I mean, I try not to judge, but I like most of my friends to be firmly on the side of not-evil."

"Well, maybe," Sam said, shrugging and trying to be non-committal about that. "Didn't Space Wars tell us that anyone could go dark side? I'm not a bad guy right now, if that helps. No evil plans or devious laughing happening here."

"Yeah, but the morality in Space Battles is completely unrealistic. Seriously, you get a little too angry and all of a sudden you're a mass-murdering psycho? Human emotions are way more complex than that."

... Not that Marshall had ever put any thought into this.

Yeah, Sam could get with that logical sort of reasoning. He crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, Space Battles also taught us about those little furry teddy bears so yeah, maybe not a great source of knowledge," he agreed with a half smile. "But I think everyone's got it in them to be a bad guy. Just gotta find that part of yourself."

In Sam's case, it ran through him like a cold, cold river.

"I guess," Marshall allowed. "I dunno, maybe there's a difference between having the capacity to do bad things and being a bad person? Although I guess being aware of it and understanding it probably helps, so I guess it's a good class after all."

"You think I'm a bad person, Marshall?" Sam asked, not really expecting an honest or serious answer. He was just teasing the other guy since it seemed that Marshall had put some thought into this. "Am I gonna be like that helmet headed bad guy in Space Battles?"

"Only if you fall in love," Marshall retorted. "At least, if the movies taught us anything. I dunno, I like to think it's a generally positive emotion overall."

"You've thought about this," Sam observed. "You ever had your concerns about being a bad guy? Evil genius kind of bad guy?"

"Not really," Marshall replied. "Aside from about eight months when I was eleven when I really wanted to be Dark Helmet ~~or whatever he's meta'd as~~. I'm just a geek. You should hear some of the conversation I've had with my best friend back home."

"Nothing wrong with being a geek," Sam decided. "The geeks of the world are gonna balance it out when slackers like me come along and do nothing but sit around and eat carrots."

"I never said there was," Marshall pointed out. "I just said that I am one, and since I am clearly awesome, that means that geeks have to be awesome, too."

He paused.

"... Carrots? That seems a little random."

"Vegetarian," he said and pointed at himself. "And I like carrots! What's wrong with carrots? My mom used to tell me that they'd make my eyesight better. I didn't believe her but liked carrots anyway."

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