http://nips-your-nose.livejournal.com/ (
nips-your-nose.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2013-01-20 12:51 pm
Entry tags:
Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon
It was just that kind of day. Too warm outside to justify making it snow, too... too Sunday to justify actually putting any effort into anything at all. And Jack was bored.
So, really, that made it the perfect day for him to make his way into the common room for the first time, to see what all the fuss was about. It took a bit of poking at buttons, but he finally managed to figure out how to change the channel, and, after a few minutes of clicking through the stations, settled on pretty much the only show that wasn't an infomercial or an afternoon soap opera.
He wasn't entirely sure what those gummy bears were doing, kidnapping the minotaur luchador, but there was something to be said for watching a rocket-powered wrestling bovine bodyslamming the daylights out of the confectionery that slighted him.
Satisfied that he'd found the best thing on the television that morning, Jack settled in with a bowl of ice cream (because why not?) and contented himself to let his brains rot in front of the TV for the first time in his life.
[OOC: Because I would watch the hell out of a Burrito Bison cartoon. Yes indeed. Open!]
So, really, that made it the perfect day for him to make his way into the common room for the first time, to see what all the fuss was about. It took a bit of poking at buttons, but he finally managed to figure out how to change the channel, and, after a few minutes of clicking through the stations, settled on pretty much the only show that wasn't an infomercial or an afternoon soap opera.
He wasn't entirely sure what those gummy bears were doing, kidnapping the minotaur luchador, but there was something to be said for watching a rocket-powered wrestling bovine bodyslamming the daylights out of the confectionery that slighted him.
Satisfied that he'd found the best thing on the television that morning, Jack settled in with a bowl of ice cream (because why not?) and contented himself to let his brains rot in front of the TV for the first time in his life.
[OOC: Because I would watch the hell out of a Burrito Bison cartoon. Yes indeed. Open!]

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But she felt this stop was warranted, when she saw what was on the TV.
"... What is that?"
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"It's a cartoon about a Mexican minotaur glam-wrestler who was kidnapped by gummy candy for some kind of crazy Candyland wrestling tournament," he offered, along with a little grin. "And I think he's trying to escape back to the convenience store he was grabbed from by launching himself into his captors?"
That sounded about right, anyhow.
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Yeah, she could see him.
The fox at her feet, however, could not. So now he was giving her the fox version of a look that said 'really? you're talking to yourself now?'
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"It was either this, or some loud guy talking about car de-icer as though it was the most miraculous invention the world has ever known," he explained, with a wrinkled nose that summed up nicely just what he thought about that. "At least this way, they have some kind of amusing fight scenes when Burrito Bison faces off against the cops while the little candy people flee in terror."
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Yeah, that was the first thing turning Jack off of that. Followed by the fact that if the ice was there in the first place, odds were it was because he had wanted it to be.
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The fox made an annoyed noise and she glanced down at him. "What?"
... But it wasn't like he could answer.
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Yeah, Jack was used to woodland creatures being able to see him. This was new and unusual, for him. Right up there with humans who could see him.
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And he hadn't even heard it, had he?
Natalie squinted at Jack. "Is there a reason why particularly fact-reliant people might not see you?"
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... And watched the animal pass clear through his hand, that familiar numbness taking over his arm while his fingers seemed to explode almost into smoke, re-forming again when his hand was through to the other side.
"Your fox doesn't believe in me," he said, looking more confused than troubled by the whole... exploding smoke-hand thing. "He's a person, you said?"
Well. That was weird.
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"He's usually a boy," she explained, skipping the teen soap declarations of how Peter wasn't her anything, as well as not usually being a fox. "It's a Fandom thing." At Peter's... mildly curious sound, she added, to him, "There's a guy here you can't see. I'm going to assume it's because you're not bothering to notice."
She looked up at Jack again. "Although, what was that about believing?"
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"I'm Jack Frost," he explained. "A legend, to most people. The ones who think I'm just a story can't see me, or touch me, or hear me. I might as well not be there at all. Hence..."
He nudged one of his bare feet at Peter's leg, and it dissolved into smoke all over again.
"You kind of get used to it after a while."
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Well. That explained Peter, definitely.
"I'm not sure I should be able to see you."
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Having dated a necromancer and played sister to a Shadowhunter, she'd grown pretty adaptable. She believed what she saw.
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Jack liked this place more and more.
"I... don't spend much time with him, though. The Sandman is the one I see around more often, actually."
It was hard to miss his dream dust, when Sandy really got going.
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Or too caught up in their own thing to care. Like Peter.
"And what's he like, then?"
Wasn't every day you got to ask that about the Sandman.
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Well, North had a white beard. But that was part of the legend, too.
"I think he's kind of what the rest of us want to be. So long as people dream, there he is."
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"Which teachers would those be?"
So, of course, he had to ask.
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That was an understatement, but she didn't know that.
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Which wasn't something that was going to happen, Bunnymund.
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He was probably judging her for not doing something useful even now. "Whereas I've learned to separate what I think is possible in Fandom from what I think is possible where I'm from a while ago."
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"And... what do you think is possible in Fandom?"
Look, it kind of had to be asked.
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She said it like it was a simple thing, too. But she'd seen the multiverse get pared down to just the inside of their library – so was there any better word for what was possible than 'everything'?
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He looked down at Peter, and then amended that statement somewhat.
"Most minds."
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He settled in with his ice cream, and then, a moment later, looked back up at her.
"You know, I don't think I ever did get your name."
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Unless you were from further in the timeline in her world, in which case, well. It depended on the person whether the name would strike fear or lust into your heart.
"And the fox is Peter Wiggin, political consultant to the Republic of Haiti."
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Politics really didn't impress him. Why should they? It wasn't as though that sort of thing ever touched him, after all.