fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room [Tuesday afternoon]

It had been several weeks, now, since Po had arrived in this strange land, and he felt fairly educated about his new surroundings. The indoor lights and running water had fascinated him, certainly, as had these mysteries called "electronics," but he felt confident that now, at least, he understood these things in theory, if not wholly in practice.

Today, though, he was left with questions as he stared in confusion at the television. He had been told these devices were for entertainment, and thus he'd happily watched as people behind blue boxes bearing their scrawled names had answered questions about this world, moments earlier. But for the last twenty minutes, an older man had appeared and attempted to convince him that comfortable sleep was nigh unto impossible.

Po frowned as he watched, unsure what this strange man's purpose was. He made sleep seem as though it were a mission that could never be achieved without this pillow -- surely the same audience that so enjoyed the questions before wouldn't fall for this spiel? It seemed like misplaced advertising.

And, also, a really stupid pitch for a fairly useless-sounding product, but Po supposed that was neither here nor there.

[this post brought to you by the endless My Pillow infomercial that has been airing on every TV I've happened to see this week. Open!]

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"I haven't seen anything useful yet," Bay said, with a trace of skepticism. "Other than the pet dinosaur, and that's probably more cool than useful most of the time. But -- so you have some special genius ability? That is also very cool."

"My school-assigned sibling can stretch himself," Po admitted, "which sounds remarkably handy. And yes, the...dinosaur." Still a strange word to him. "She seems like she'd be more use to me than a horse, if she were trained well."

He shrugged, and added, "And yes, I'm Graced. I'm a hand-fighter, and undefeated thus far in my own kingdom." He cocked a grin at her. "If you should ever need a champion to fight for you, my lady, I'd be a good one to choose."

"Who stretches himself?" Bay asked, because that sounded intriguing. "I got a fake sister who does magic. Karla."

She flashed a smile at him as she put the sandwiches on two plates. "That's ...kind of absurdly chivalrous, but very cute." (And reminiscent of Emmett's promise that he'd always come find her, but she was making a point of not thinking about him.) "I promise, if anybody tries to beat me up I'll bug you about it."

"Evan does," Po said. "I was rather delighted with the idea. Much more useful than my abilities. I'm threatened far less often than I'm forced to try to reach things on high shelves."

"Heels help with that," Bay said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "I dunno. There have definitely been moments when I would have killed for a really good right hook."

She sat down near him, putting the plated sandwiches down on the coffee table.

"Thank you," Po said, reaching for a sandwich. He paused, thinking about it, and added, "Well, should you ever want to learn to throw a really good right hook, I'd be happy to teach you technique, at least. I've assisted all my brothers in their training -- Graced or not, it doesn't hurt to know how to fight, should the occasion arise."

Bay paused with her sandwich halfway to her mouth, surprised. "Sure," she said. "I mean, I never really thought about it, but that would not suck as a thing to know. Thanks for offering."

"You're welcome," Po replied, shrugging. "Ladies aren't much for fighting where I'm from, though there's one notable exception, but I've always thought everyone ought to learn at some point."

"Well yeah," Bay agreed. "It's not that girly where I'm from either, but even if your life is totally safe most of the time, there's always that one time things just don't go your way."

"And thus we prevent that one time," Po said amiably. "I'm Po, by the way."

"Bay," Bay said amiably. "We're both all monosyllabic."

Second Floor Common Room [Tuesday afternoon]

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