http://willbethenight.livejournal.com/ (
willbethenight.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2012-03-14 07:02 pm
Entry tags:
Fifth Floor Common Room, Wednesday night
Bruce had barely walked into the common room before a pie went whizzing past his head and splattered against the wall. Following the path of travel back to the source, he saw reason to duck as another pie was winged over his head. As he dove to the side, he caught a quick look at the culprit standing on the kitchen counter.
It looked like a leprechaun standing next to a tray filled with pies. But it was a little too green-skinned and its teeth were a little too pointy. Apparently a gremlin was celebrating some unholy combination of Pi Day and Saint Patrick's Day the only way it knew how: with slapstick comedy.
And that was fine as far as Bruce was concerned. A leprechaun meant potential magical powers he didn't understand and a legendary ability to flee capture. A gremlin could be defeated with ease.
As the next pie made its way toward his head, Bruce waited, then dodged, got a hand on the back of the pie plate so he could change its direction, and flung it back at the gremlin in one smooth motion. The pie hit the gremlin just as it was about to throw another one (in fact, it was about 14% of the way through its throwing motion). The gremlin stumbled back blindly, backed into a pot, fell into it, and then the suddenly potted gremlin fell off the counter. Bruce walked over casually, grabbed the pot's lid, and secured it to seal the gremlin in for the time being.
After inspecting a tray with several remaining unthrown pies, Bruce decided that they were free of gremlin venom. So carried the tray over by the couches for people to share. He wasn't sure if it was the gremlin who made them, or if the gremlin stole them, but Bruce had to admit that they tasted pretty good.
[OOC: I'm starting to realize that Bruce has a long history of battling individual gremlins. I need to do something with this.
Anyway, CR is open. There is pie. And a gremlin in a pot in the kitchen.]
It looked like a leprechaun standing next to a tray filled with pies. But it was a little too green-skinned and its teeth were a little too pointy. Apparently a gremlin was celebrating some unholy combination of Pi Day and Saint Patrick's Day the only way it knew how: with slapstick comedy.
And that was fine as far as Bruce was concerned. A leprechaun meant potential magical powers he didn't understand and a legendary ability to flee capture. A gremlin could be defeated with ease.
As the next pie made its way toward his head, Bruce waited, then dodged, got a hand on the back of the pie plate so he could change its direction, and flung it back at the gremlin in one smooth motion. The pie hit the gremlin just as it was about to throw another one (in fact, it was about 14% of the way through its throwing motion). The gremlin stumbled back blindly, backed into a pot, fell into it, and then the suddenly potted gremlin fell off the counter. Bruce walked over casually, grabbed the pot's lid, and secured it to seal the gremlin in for the time being.
After inspecting a tray with several remaining unthrown pies, Bruce decided that they were free of gremlin venom. So carried the tray over by the couches for people to share. He wasn't sure if it was the gremlin who made them, or if the gremlin stole them, but Bruce had to admit that they tasted pretty good.
[OOC: I'm starting to realize that Bruce has a long history of battling individual gremlins. I need to do something with this.
Anyway, CR is open. There is pie. And a gremlin in a pot in the kitchen.]

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Cara looked at Bruce, then at the pies, then the wall, then back at Bruce. "Do I even want to know?"
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That probably didn't help any confusion at all, no. As a reward for not being confused, Bruce took another bite of the piece of pie he had taken from one of the unthrown desserts.
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Especially not after this weekend.
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If she was, then Bruce would have to wonder when exactly her mind wasn't in the gutter.
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"Depends on what you mean by serious," she said, shrugging. "It's usually supposed to get some reaction." Though what the intended reaction was varied.
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He was curious.
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Being a killjoy was a blast in its own way.
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"Continually being cut off isn't much fun for me." It was a completely different word begging with 'F'.
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"Your loss."
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"If you say so," Bruce said. "I'll still survive."
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"You realise how dangerous a challenge that could be," she teased.
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She was sure he'd provide an explanation.
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"Want any pie? There's plenty to share."
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But everything had a self-preservation instinct, didn't it?
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And it meant he was probably going to give this gremlin a note telling it to spread word that Susan was to be avoided. He didn't want any gremlins getting slaughtered, after all.