fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room, Thursday Evening

Frank was trying to watch TV.

Trying being the operative word here. For one thing, he kept getting distracted by how bright everything was, bright and colorful, closer to real life than he could imagine television being. The picture even seemed clearer, sharper somehow than even a movie theater back home, but Frank thought that might be the awe talking.

But the main issue here, the reason why TV was giving him such a hard time, was because he couldn't for the life of him find any of his favorite shows.

Which was probably silly, since of course they weren't on anymore, it was 2012 and any shows from the 1959 lineup had long since run their course, but he couldn't even find any shows like the ones he knew from back home. There were no comedies starring charismatic male leads running flimflams and hijinks, no westerns about cowboy family life on Nevada ranches, no adventure shows about infiltrating opposing war bases, and...

"Oh, come on!" Frank complained. "Not even ~~meta for~~ Lassie?"

He took a breath. Sighed.

Then he called up the local pizza place he'd been fortunate enough to come across a delivery menu for, placed an order for a couple pizzas, and got to work familiarizing himself with what 2012 television did have to offer.

He was going to be here a while.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And now he was dorking out at the very idea of it.

"Holograms?" Frank repeated, awed. "Really? That is so neat. If they have those at home, why would you want to go to school someplace that doesn't have those?"

"Mainly because I was forced to," Terry said. "But I can also stand some retro TV for a year."

"I guess," Frank said, dubiously. "You were forced to come here? That stinks."

"Well, heavily encouraged. It was my choice as long as I chose to come," Terry said. "But once I got past the annoyance of changing schools, it really hasn't been that bad."

"It's kind of cool, right? So many people from all these different places... plus, there's a ball pit."

Be more of a dork, Frank. Try.

"I didn't know about the ball pit," Terry said. "Why do we have a ball pit?"

"No clue," Frank admitted. "I didn't even know what it was until Britta took me up there yesterday. But it is so neat. It's basically a pool, made out of these semi-squishy balls you can swim around in. Awesome, right?"

"Ballpits aren't for me. As soon as my kid brother loves something, I know it's time for me to move on. And he loves ball pits," Terry shared.

"Yeah, I can see how that'd be a dealbreaker," Frank admitted. "Luckily, I don't have siblings, so I don't have to worry about that."

"More power to you," Terry said. "I bet you also get to enjoy chocolate-y cereals, right?"

Those days went away for Terry years ago.

"Those are a thing?" Frank asked, slightly awed at the thought. He liked chocolate. Chocolate for breakfast? Yes, please. "I'm starting to think I might have been a little bit deprived growing up."

"You've never had...? Well, that's the great thing about the future. Most of the really schway stuff is there," Terry said. "I'm sure they have some in the cabinets here."

"Oh, nice," Frank said, abandoning his pizza and climbing over the back of the couch in order to check out the cabinets. "What's schway?" he called across the room as he started to investigate.

"Apparently we have better slang in the future, too," Terry joked. "It's... you know, 'cool'? 'Great.' Um... You know, just schway."

Oh, the future and its wacky words.

"I like that," Frank decided. "'Schway.' Sounds pretty neat."

He rummaged in the cabinets some more, then let out a whoop of triumph. Frank was easily pleased, okay. "Yes! Cocoa Crisp any good?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes sounds when you pour milk on it," Terry said. "So it depends on if you like chocolate and don't mind your food being noisy."

"I think I can live with noisy food," Frank decided after a moment. "We're talking normal food-type sounds and not actual words or anything, right?" Because that would be a step too far.

"At least not in any language I know," Terry said. "Which pretty much just means English. But still."

"I'll let you know if it's French," Frank offered, pouring some into a bowl. "You want any?"

"No thanks. Kid brother, remember?" Terry said. "I've had to eat way too much of that stuff over the years because of him. I'm done with it."

"Right, gotcha," Frank said, pouring some milk for himself and then checking around for a spoon, opening and neglecting to close just about every drawer in the entire kitchen in the process. "Well," he said, "I'll let you know how it-- oh my god this is delicious!"

"Isn't the future great?" Terry asked. Kinda smugly, really.

"Um, the best," Frank decided. "Color TV, ball pits, chocolate for breakfast for dinner... any other awesome things I haven't discovered yet?"

"I don't think they have flying cars in this time, but that'll come eventually..." Terry teased.

"Neat," Frank declared. "That is so cool. I guess it'll be cooler once I actually learn how to drive, but even being in the backseat of one of those has to be awesome, right?"

(no subject)

alreadyisbeyond.livejournal.com - 2012-05-11 03:18 (UTC) - Expand