fandomhighdorms | Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday late afternoon

Maybe it was surprising, but Bruce's first move once he was back in Fandom wasn't to spend the whole day in the cave. There was plenty of time for that coming up in the next few days. For now, the most important thing was figuring out his new routine. With Spring Break marking a rough halfway point to the end of the semester, he needed to work out priorities and how they fit into his schedule during the remaining stretch run.

So, of course, he had a day planner with all of the unavoidable planned distractions over the next couple of months (prom, finals, a few floating weekends for unspecified insanity), and some time for off-island training, regular class work, that kind of stuff.

The biggest change to his previous planning was making sure he scheduled some time for social behavior instead of just letting it happen when he needed a break. The fact that this was likely to be the last stretch of time where he would ever have a relatively normal life had come into sharp focus for Bruce recently. And with that came the realization that it might not be a bad idea to actually experience relative normalcy in a somewhat genuine way rather than putting on a complete facade like he was accustomed to.

It was that line of thinking that had him buying drinks for a whole bar in Rio. Twice. And now it resulted in his bringing pizza to the common room and turning on Oscars pre-show coverage so that people could have a meal, some entertainment, and not focus on the day planner.

[OOC: In celebration of getting rid of a migraine, I post a CR. Huzzah!]

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The first thing Cara had done after returning to Fandom had been getting back into her leathers. The next had been getting the wanders because soothing as the relative quiet was after Rio, it was also kind of boring.

"Bruce," she said by way of greeting, and nodded at the television. "That broken again?" Surely no one would choose to watch random people walking on a carpet.

"Nope. Oscar night's a big thing. I wouldn't want to keep people from enjoying it," Bruce said.

"You're kidding, right? Watching people walking on carpets on that is a thing?"

Why couldn't people have nice normal hobbies like hitting things?

"People want to see what celebrities are wearing on the biggest night in Hollywood," Bruce said. "And as an appreciator of fashion, I understand it."

Cara stared at Bruce, it was like she didn't even know him. "Wouldn't they be wearing the same things they wear on all the other nights?" Fashion and large wardrobes were the exception rather than the rule in the Midlands.

Bruce had nearly as many suits as he did small objects to throw at enemies. "Of course not. They want to look their best for their big night."

That would be a lot of suits.

"They're walking on a carpet. You don't need to get out your best clothes for that."

"They're walking on a carpet in front of the movie-loving world," Bruce said.

Bruce, Cara's universe had not invented the novel yet, let alone movies. Hence you got a blank look. "And that matters, why?"

"It doesn't unless you care about movies and celebrity," Bruce said. "If you don't, it's not really for you."

Three guesses which of those categories Cara fell into. "Seem's like a filmsy excuse to wear your favourite dresses." No, she didn't know they were probably nearly all new.

"They're new dresses. Seriously, it's an important night for them and their profession. Something they just happen to have won't do," Bruce said.

Cara blinked. "Tell me that they wear them more than once."

That was an oddly invested tone for someone who didn't care about fashion.

"And spoil how special this night is for them?" Bruce said. "No."

"What?" Again, surprisingly aggrieved tone. "Do they know how much effort it takes to make something like that? And then choose to just wear it the once?"

"The designers and manufacturers are happy to go through the effort. It's great advertising for them," Bruce said. "If they get decent air time for just a few dresses that people love, they'll do great business."

"It's wasteful." At least when you came from the perspective of every part of clothes production being done by hand.

"It's the business," Bruce said.

"Since when?"

"Since long before I was born," Bruce said.

"That can't be right." Wasn't culture clash fun? "I'd remember if Moth-" ...and that was Cara very abruptly shutting up now.

"Do I want to know what you were going to say?"

If he was curious about Cara's childhood traumas, probably. "I don't see how it would interest you," she said, trying to cover for the slip.

"I'm not going to push," Bruce said. He'd learned his lesson last December. "But if you want to share, I'm here to listen."

"My mother made dresses," Cara muttered, not looking at him. You'd swear she was admitting she drowned puppies for a living or something.

Fifth Floor Common Room, Sunday late afternoon

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