fandomhighdorms | 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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To say that Marshall was unaffected by the weekend's madness was disingenuous, given the increased presence of hot guys on the island so soon after his brain poked him and went, "Also, boys;" that said, at least he was untransformed, although he was now dreading the moment that the island decided it was the boys' turn to live on the other side for a few days.

He wandered into the common room in search of breakfast, giving Petra a half-smile and a bit of a wave. "Hey," he said. "... Is that cake? Please tell me there's more."

"In the kitchen," Petra said, pointing with her fork. "Don't know where it came from, but it's tasty. Hey."

Sam actually decided to venture off his own floor today. When he got up to the fifth floor, he'd actually decided to hit the roof to check out the view but had to stop when he spotted some people in the common room.

The roof could wait, Sam decided, while he checked things out. Brooke would be so pleased he'd been so social. And then she'd want eight thousand details which she wouldn't get.

"Morning," he said pleasantly, giving the girl a nod. "Looks like you're one of the lucky ones that hasn't flipped genders this weekend. Congrats."

"Caaaaake." Marshall grabbed himself a slice and poured himself some coffee from the pot before settling down in a chair.

"Uh, sorry I missed club this week," he added. "I was... I got caught up in something. Completely forgot about it."

Or, you know, chickened out at the last minute. One of those.

"Uh. Hey, Sam." Don't freak out, Marshall told himself. Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out.

He managed something approaching his normal smile. "I guess it's mostly the guys who are lucky this weekend. Which makes me wonder when it's going to his us."

"I'm trying not to think about that," he admitted with a slight wince. "I think I'd be a pretty crappy girl, to be honest. I can barely relate to them as a guy. Relating to girls as a girl who's not used to be a girl? Harder than calculus."

"I dunno, calculus isn't that-"

Beat.

"Or that could just be me."

Sam snickered at Marshall catching himself there and took a seat on the couch so he could stretch out his legs.

"So, you're a math guy, are you?" he asked, still amused. "It could just be you but there's nothing wrong with that."

"Math, science, computers. All that kind of stuff," Marshall explained. "I was, uh, in the science club at my last high school. So, y'know, if you ever need help with any of that stuff, you can totally ask me."

"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?"

"Whatever," Petra said. "No worries. Just show up next week if you want to."

"Either that or the magical forces didn't know what to do with me," Petra said a little bitterly, jamming her fork into her cake. Then she shook her head and said, "Thank God. You did not want to see me a crying wreck."

"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."

"I will," Marshall said, smiling a little wider. "How'd it go, anyway?"

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Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning

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