Third Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

[lockestheway]

It was Sunday. A week after that whole... thing.

It was Sunday, and Peter was finally caught up on work, and if he read another essay on Pakistani-Indian ambitions his brain was going to melt out of his head, so, well. He left his room. It was a truly astounding occasion.

By afternoon he'd picked up some pastries and dumped them in the common room - it wouldn't hurt to go looking for new bodyguards, especially not after last weekend - and now he was lounging on the couch with his computer in his lap oh shut up this was an entirely fresh perspective on the 'Unfolding Clusterfuck in the Orient'.

Okay, 'clusterfuck' was not the word they'd been using, but it was kind of old-timey. 'Orient'? Who even used that word?

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Comments

[dollpocalypse]

Were there rules about non-bodyguards, or people who would make incompetent bodyguards, taking some pastries? Because Topher took several.

Then he meandered over to the couch and noticed who was already sitting there. "These yours?" he asked around a mouthful of danish. "These are good."

[lockestheway]

"Yes, they're mine, Christopher," Peter sighed, looking up from his computer. "But you're welcome to take them. Retroactively."

[dollpocalypse]

"Duh, they're on the table." And that meant something, apparently. "No one puts stuff on a table and walks away if they're not sharing."

[lockestheway]

"Unless they put their name on there," Peter said idly. "But nicely spoken, Brink. How've you been?"

He didn't care particularly much, but hey. He hadn't seen Topher in a while.

[dollpocalypse]

"Eh." Topher began carefully deconstructing his danish, separating the center part from the rest of it. "You?"

He didn't care either, but asking would give him something to tune out while working on this danish project.

[lockestheway]

"Busy," Peter said lightly. "You know how it goes, right?"

Topher probably didn't. Topher's priorities were crap.

[dollpocalypse]

Topher gave that a vigorous nod, actually. "I spent like four hours yesterday doing work. Ugh."

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"Hey there. I think I met you when you were a fox," Emily said, probably the end of the sentence sounding just as awkward as it did in her head disregarding the fact it wasn't a wolf oops.

And then she looked at the pastries. "That's about the healthiest food I've seen on a common room in a while.

[lockestheway]

"It's been all pizza again, huh?" Peter who was in no way a wolf kind of person said, in faked-enough-to-seem-real sympathy. "I should probably do my part more often."

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"Pizza as far as the eye can see, yeah," replied Emily with equally fake sympathy on her own. She tentatively grabbed a pastry. "I once wondered out loud if I should, too. I basically got called an inconsiderate rich person or something." It was mostly context, really. "Which I'm not saying you are. Yay pastries."

[lockestheway]

"I'm not rich," Peter assured her. "What I get paid is pretty modest." For a teenage political consultant. "But hey, I can afford to treat a common room to breakfast."

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"The point stands though. I think; you know, it's ridiculously simple to rub someone the wrong way," Emily said as she shrugged. "But anyway, it's very kind of you none the less. Were you of the lucky ones that didn't get abducted last week?"

[lockestheway]

"Sadly, no," Peter said. "However, I'm aware of my strengths, so I managed to stay out of trouble for the most part."

He'd have been useless scavenging. Or fighting. Or anything that wasn't organizing supplies. (Which still stung, but he was used to that by now, out here.)

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"I got into all kinds of trouble," Emily said without too much excitement. It had been a ride. "Apparently the ones that didn't end up there are the less. I'm still kind of skeptic most people seem to be just rolling with it."

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie heading up to the roof for a cigarette or two (no comment on how much that had to do with Jim's visit) but poked her head in the common room on the way.

"Out of your room, Peter? Impressive."

[lockestheway]

"I thought I'd come feed the hungry masses," Peter said, gesturing broadly at the food on display. "Please join us, hungry mass."

[whenshewasnice]

"Are you trying to insinuate I'm fat?" quipped the person drawn like a stick figure, as she padded into the room, and after pocketing her packet of cigarettes, went to pick up a pastry. "Rude."

[lockestheway]

"No, I'm trying to insinuate that you might be hungry," Peter said cheerfully. "Everything else is completely dependent on your own hang-ups."

[whenshewasnice]

"Well, that's not one of mine." She had plenty of hang-ups but exactly none of them had anything to do with body image or her appearance in general. "I'm not exactly hungry, either, but thank you for the snack all the same."

[lockestheway]

"You're welcome," Peter said, stretching his legs on the couch. "How've you been?"

Look, he actually intended to listen to her answer and everything.

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"Hey, Natalie," Emily said as she waved her hand a bit at her. She figured that were enough words to throw at her as a greeting.

[whenshewasnice]

It was enough to catch Natalie's attention, anyway. "Hi," she replied. After a pause of 'oh right, I'm probably expected to say something more', she added, "Enjoying the food-shaped kindness of Mr. Wiggin?"

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"Totally. Have you given it a try? It's a nice change from junk food," Emily said.

[whenshewasnice]

"Pastries don't get counted as junk food?"

It was possible Natalie had a narrower definition of foods that weren't junk food.

And that she loved semantics.

[reven8e.livejournal.com]

"I don't think so? Would you count them?"

Emily was bored enough to have this conversation, so they were good.