fandomhighdorms | 3rd Floor Common Room, Friday Morning

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3rd Floor Common Room, Friday Morning

And thus it was that on the fifth day, Peter Wiggin came rolling out of Casa Locke for reasons beyond going to class, though really, he'd only come back from Oz's class five minutes ago.

The reason was this: there were gremlins in his room making noise, and he found he couldn't concentrate on feeding new information into the Australian legislative bodies when there were little green things growling and whining their way through Have Yourself A Merry Little christmas.

So he had effectively been relegated to the couch, idly zapping through TV channels as he wondered why people wasted their time on asinine shit like this. Still, he was putting himself to the task of finding something that might attract the unwashed hordes (and keeping himself from thinking about Valentine leaving this weekend) so that at least his unwilling exile had some use.

Sadly, all the TV seemed willing to show today was reruns of reality shows... and The Wiggles.

The latter was the lesser of the two evils by a very small margin.

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Dany wandered into the common room, Drogon perched on her shoulder as she fed him a bit of jerky.

"Why?" she asked, simply, staring at the television. "Why?"

"I've been asking that all morning," Peter muttered, looking up. "If you want, I can switch the channel to a Jersey Shore marathon, but I'm not sure that's much better."

"The one with the orange people," Dany recalled, taking a seat and wincing. "They are awful, but at least they do not sing. Why is this available to watch at all?"

"Supposedly, there's an audience for it," Peter said. He decided to be kind and put the mute on. "But don't ask me who."

"Very, very small children, perhaps," Dany said. A pause, then, "Only because they do not yet know better."

"Probably," Peter agreed. "Going by the accents... Australian small children who don't know any better. Guess those parents need something to entertain the offspring."

"I have to assume that's a country famous for people who have truly awful taste," Dany replied seriously.

"Wouldn't be too far off. You don't want to see the soap series they put on in my time." He finally looked away from the screen, glancing at Dany. "So how have you been, end-of-the-multiverse drama notwithstanding?"

"Aside from that? Fine. But then, it's not like life's petty annoyances have much ground when the threat of annihilation hangs over us," Dany noted wryly. "Yourself?"

"Fine as well, threat of annihilation notwithstanding." Peter grinned at her. "Life on Fandom continues on its merry way, only briefly interrupted."

"This did seem like more than the usual," Dany noted lightly, "but then, I don't have much to compare it to. It wasn't exactly just people turning into children, as unendurable as that was, too." For different reasons than he probably thought.

"No, 'end of the multiverse' does seem a great deal more dramatic," Peter agreed. "I'm not trying to downplay it-- that much. But we've managed to put it behind us, unreal as the means were."

"It's the first time I've thought home might be more normal than this place," she offered, smiling a little. "Up to then, they were about equal."

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lockestheway - 2011-12-16 19:08 (UTC) - Expand

Topher walked in and resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

"You a fan of this show?"

"Not exactly," Peter drawled. Topher got a look. And then, because Peter was unkind like that, he zapped onwards to the next channel, which happened to be hosting an episode of Jersey Shore full of jiggling boobies.

Topher flailed. "Okay! Okay! Back to the cartoons!"

Peter tilted his head at the screen briefly, then zapped away. "You see the conundrum I'm facing," he said.

"You want me to take a look at it?" Topher asked with a sigh

Not that it'd been all that successful when he'd tried it with Tony that time. But he could at least offer!

"Nah. The gremlins should be out of my room and annoying someone else in... ah, a few minutes, probably." He eyed Topher. "I never watch TV anyway."

"There's gremlins in your room? Dude." Topher had yet to experience the joy of the all-gremlin caroling team soon to spread Christmas cheer to room 307. "How come you didn't just bring your desk in here to work?"

Perils of a secret identity, Toph. You wouldn't understand.

Peter gave it a shrug. "I've been catching up on a lot of work lately," he said. "I saw it as a sign from the heavens to catch some fresh air."

By walking all the way to the common room. You go, Peter.

Topher blinked. Then half-grinned a little.

Pointing to the window, he checked, "You... know the air's the same in here as in your room, right?"

"Hey, no one said I had to go crazy," Peter replied. "It's cold outside."

"Don't have to tell me twice," said Topher, who'd spent the better part of the past two days curled up in his new Iron Man snuggie. "Outside sucks. And there's a weird guy down in the lobby, so."

Peter squinted at him. "'Weird guy'?" he said. "You'll have to give me more than that, Toph ol' buddy."