fandomhighdorms | Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

Okay, Atton's enthusiasm about being anywhere not-Nar-Shaddaa had evaporated at impressive speed.

That was probably just because Atton was as Atton did, really. He couldn't exist for very long without finding something to complain about.

Still, the novelty of it all hadn't quite worn off yet; not that you could tell, by the way he had sprawled all over the common room couch, feet on the table, a bowl of some strange local snack food at his side and a bottle of let's-just-say-it's-pop-even-though-it-isn't in his hand.

Watching TV.

Something called Deadliest Warrior, as a matter of fact. "You call that shooting?" he said, digging his fingers back into the snack bowl. "Does anyone on this planet even know what a firefight looks like?"

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As it turned out, no they did not. But then again, George wasn't from this world. "I take it you don't mean a literal fight against flame?" he asked from somewhere near the door.

He was taking that cue largely from what he could see on screen.

"No, I mean like the kind of fight where it's two guys, two blasters, and only one of them walks out without a hole in the head," Atton said.

He was helpful like that.

"I can't say I've seen that," George offered, wandering further into the room. Other, equally as violent and deadly things, yes, but there were no blasters involved. He wasn't even completely certain what one was. "Do they normally broadcast that sort of thing in the middle of the day?"

"Hey, you're asking the wrong guy," Atton said, holding his hands up. "I'm not from around here."

Right. That made the previous comment make a lot more sense. "Would they where you're from?" George rephrased, finding a free chair and flopping into it. Knowing how different the places they all came from seemed to be, he was honestly curious.

"Sure," Atton said, idly digging around his snack bowl some more. "It's the easiest way to keep the unwashed masses occupied."

And he was certainly unwashed.

George was far, far too polite to mention that he was currently watching it -- or wishing he was watching it -- and therefore imply that.

"Where I'm from they try to stick to parties. Metaphorical backstabbing over the literal." Upper class entertainment, this was. They also didn't tend to film them. Reality TV was the realm of the Broken.

Hey, maybe Atton was implying that on purpose. Though if he was, he was definitely not going to cop to it.

"Like... what?" said Atton, who either didn't follow or put on a good show of not following.

Atton was probably lucky not to have to deal with blueblood aristocracy. "Say, my brother in-law invited someone... not so trustworthy to one of his parties to keep an eye on him, see who he spoke to, and find out who his enemies were." He thought about that a moment.

"Then he insulted my sister under their roof and my brother almost tried to strangle him... I suppose that wasn't very metaphorical as violence goes. But it was supposed to be."

Atton gave that a long pause.

"I think I'd take my chance with the blasters," he said. "No offense."

George twitched a smirk, "I know a few people who would say the same." Jack, for starters. For a brother, he could not be more different. "A blaster is a gun?" The only deduction he could surmise.

"Kind of obvious when you think about it, isn't it?"

Atton's approach to combat was actually rather a bit more sophisticated than that, but one didn't generally go around saying things that lit up neon signs reading 'FORMER SITH ASSASSIN'.

No, much like George tried not to broadcast 'SPY IN TRAINING' with every word.

"I haven't used one in a while," he admitted. Better to check than assume. "A gun, not a blaster. I don't think we have them." At least, not with the same name. "Magical combat is far more common."

Atton frowned at him. "What, like Force tricks?" he said. "I was starting to get the idea that was just my galaxy. Lucky us."

"I wouldn't call them tricks. A flash trained blueblood is deadly," George told him. Flash, force... It even sounded a little similar.

"I gather some worlds have it, some don't, it works slightly differently and has different names."

"Great, because it wasn't complicated enough to start with," Atton complained.

"I don't see that magic... whatever it's kind, makes it that much more complex than multiple worlds already have," George remarked. "Does it?"

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Tuesday Afternoon

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