Warren Worthington III (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wwiii) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhighdorms2012-02-18 11:54 am
wwiii) wrote in fandomhighdorms2012-02-18 11:54 am
Entry tags:
The Hallways, Saturday Morning
"Oh, god."
Somebody was having a minor crisis in the hallway.
"Oh god oh god oh god."
Somebody had woken up in a dorm room on the third floor, as opposed to the hotel room that he'd fallen alseep in the night before. That somebody had instantly realized, before anything else, that he was wingless and sleeping alone, and the rest had gone somewhat downhill from there. There had been the first glance in the mirror, distracted at first by the lack of wings, and then sharp and panicked as he took in whose face was staring back at him. There had been a few minutes of wide-eyed, stupid staring after that, while all the little gears ground into place.
And then there had been a moment of utter terror, where he had to keep himself from flinging himself out the window because that was generally the fastest way for him to get into town. The sprint down the hallway had been short-lived, because somewhere just before the stairs, Warren had learned for the first time in his life what it was like to be not only even remotely out of shape, but asthmatic.
On the plus side, at least he'd managed to find clothing to pull on besides the Space Battles boxer shorts he'd woken up in that morning.
"Karla!"
Warren was not having the best of mornings, standing at the top of the stairs and trying to catch his breath. No sir.
[OOC: Open, as hallways tend to be! If you want to run into a wheezing Not!Topher, here's your chance. You might get desperately hit up for rickshaw fare. Or just incoherently spazzed at.]
Somebody was having a minor crisis in the hallway.
"Oh god oh god oh god."
Somebody had woken up in a dorm room on the third floor, as opposed to the hotel room that he'd fallen alseep in the night before. That somebody had instantly realized, before anything else, that he was wingless and sleeping alone, and the rest had gone somewhat downhill from there. There had been the first glance in the mirror, distracted at first by the lack of wings, and then sharp and panicked as he took in whose face was staring back at him. There had been a few minutes of wide-eyed, stupid staring after that, while all the little gears ground into place.
And then there had been a moment of utter terror, where he had to keep himself from flinging himself out the window because that was generally the fastest way for him to get into town. The sprint down the hallway had been short-lived, because somewhere just before the stairs, Warren had learned for the first time in his life what it was like to be not only even remotely out of shape, but asthmatic.
On the plus side, at least he'd managed to find clothing to pull on besides the Space Battles boxer shorts he'd woken up in that morning.
"Karla!"
Warren was not having the best of mornings, standing at the top of the stairs and trying to catch his breath. No sir.
[OOC: Open, as hallways tend to be! If you want to run into a wheezing Not!Topher, here's your chance. You might get desperately hit up for rickshaw fare. Or just incoherently spazzed at.]
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"She's going to kill him!" Yes. Yes, that was an excellent reply for Warren to use, right there, on the poor kid who had just run out to make sure he wasn't dying or something. "Me! She's going to kill him, and then I'll be dead because he's me! Or maybe I'm just him? Oh god I can't breathe."
This was going beautifully.
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"Karla! Topher! At the hotel! All the way at the hotel and I can't fly there."
Use your words, Warren. Or just slump against the wall some more and continue wheezing. That worked too.
"I'm gonna die and I'm not even going to be there for it. Unless I'm not, but then where am I?"
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"Um. Sorry, but you sound exactly like Topher," Matt said slowly. "Or am I missing something?"
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"No!" Warren was now doing a fair bit of righteous flailing of his arms. "That's the problem! I'm Topher! Why am I Topher?!"
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Breathing was hard, damn it!
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And then something Warren had said struck him. "And since when could he fly?"
Was Topher another one of those super powered people?
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"Since he was me!" Deep breath. "Which he's not! And might not be, but I won't know until I find me to make sure!"
It was kind of getting to that point where even Warren had no idea what he was saying anymore.
"I'm Warren!"
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Matt frowned a little. "Listen, I can't see? So I need you to check yourself for bitemarks."
Had to be a gremlin bite.
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Warren exhaled again, going from desperate to frustrated in about two seconds flat.
"I wish it was gremlins," he insisted, running his hands through his hair... Oh god. It was all... Tophery. He was going to shower for the rest of his time trapped in this body, if he could at all help it.
"Then maybe I could snap out of this and I wouldn't have to worry about who's in my body right now, laying naked with my girlfriend."
His terrifying, terrifying girlfriend.
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Matt's brain started to catch up here.
"Okay. Well. At least you're not a girl? Look, instead of shouting lets give her a call at the hotel. Maybe she hasn't woke up yet."
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"And then I can wake her up, all, 'guess what, honey, you're in bed naked with Topher?'"
Warren's logic was special logic this morning.
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"I'll take a rickshaw," Warren attempted, desperately starting to pat down his pockets for money or a phone or anything. "I. I can't afford a rickshaw!?"
THE WORLD WAS ENDING. ENDING, MATT.
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"Well, can't you get into your own room? Maybe you have some money or a phone there?"
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"My key is at the hotel. With the rest of me." Yeah, that wasn't a weird phrase, either. "Can I borrow a ten? Do you have a ten? I'll pay you back. I'll pay you back with interest. I will put you through college."
This was important, Matt!
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And that would be about the time Annie woke up in Rebecca's body and started screaming.
"Well it sounds like my roommate is having her own problems right now..."
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Warren grimaced. See that grimace? That was Warren. Grimacing.
"I'm going to just start running," he decided, coming up with what was probably a perfectly flawless plan. "And if I die halfway, that will either make me a martyr or else an accessory to murder. One of those."
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"Maybe call the desk and ask them to keep an ear out for death throes and loud flapping," Warren suggested, attempting to dislodge himself from where he was still propped up against the wall. "That way, on the off chance that they're still sleeping, nobody has to wake them up."
It had been a late, somewhat... athletic night. It was entirely possible that both bodies involved still needed some more sleep!
... Right?
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