fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

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Third Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

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?

[[ open! ]]

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"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.)

"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."

"Knowing this place? They're all just playing the stoic card," Peter said idly. "Put on a brave face, then find some place to brood the squirrels can't find and waste a lot of time peering listlessly out into the darkness, reliving their terrible nightmares."

There were hand gestures to support this story.

A little smile crept up Emily's face. "Been there, done that. This is a completely new level of screwed up for me, so I'm playing the honest card and not being okay for a while."

Emily was playing the honest card. Ha ha. "But I guess I'll end up doing that. Thanks for the advice anyway."

"Hey, I'm not stopping you, just don't cry on me," Peter said, holding his hands up. "I did nothing but play emotional support, so my scarring is mostly isolated to the terror of not being able to check my email for a week."

Which was a terror that to Peter was so huge that he still hadn't returned Loki's phone, whoops.

"I'm not going to cry on you. That'd be gross, and really embarrassing," Emily said. Plus, she didn't do crying. Ever.

"Please tell me you have really important mail because I don't think we'll be able to keep talking if you were just dying to update your Facebook status."

"I'm a political consultant," Peter offered. So yes, very important. "I need to know what's happening."

And not just in the country he was currently working for.

"That sounds...important," Emily said, well aware it was obviously important, but what was she supposed to say. "I'm like, a controlling stakeholder in some big company and all I get are boring reports I can't even read that well yet. And junk mail." Nolan's mail counted as junk mail, alright.

Well. That just made her more interesting. (Look, Peter really wasn't swimming in money here.) "New to the business, huh?" he asked sympathetically.

Emily had more money than she could imagine, and it was becoming more and more as time passed. Take that Montecristo.

"That's how it goes when you get your life made by your tutor, I guess," Emily said. And it was true, at least for the time being.

Perhaps she'd be interested in helping fund a Hegemony in a month or eight?

Peter nodded. "Well, at least you're trying to do the reading," he offered. "Most people your age would probably take out the money and buy a speedboat."

Only if she could get something out of it?

"It's pretty simple, all in all. Just numbers going up, up, up. I don't even work there, so I try to at least see what we're selling out of guilt. And hey, I did spend a lot of money when I first got it, but that got old fast. What else I'm supposed to do with it anyway? Buy a house?"

In the beach? Well yeah.

The eternal gratitude of the future ruler of at least one version of Earth wasn't enough?

"Buy a house, move to Hawaii, get some professional masseuses?" Peter joked.

Perhaps if gratitude translated to power and favors?

"That's...actually a pretty nice mental image. But then I would be bored on an island. Philanthropy is in my short term plans, and I guess I'm eventually going to be dragged into being a socialite but..." Emily made a face. "That's just going with the flow."

Like Peter was going to just hand those out.

"Bigger plans for yourself?" he guessed. "But not the business type?"

Emily had several millions of reasons that might be convincing enough.

"Both," she said simply. "As soon as I can think of one. You know Jessica Drew? I wanted to see if business were good in her world, what with super heroes and robots and I don't even know, but apparently almost everyone but the Government is evil."

And the Government was the Government.

Edited 2013-04-21 16:28 (UTC)

"Evil is kind of a useless word once you start talking about people," Peter pointed out. "I doubt it's that simple."

"Hmm," was all Emily said for a moment. That was a conversation she wanted to have, but couldn't. She had to look away for a moment, nibble on a croissant.

"It's like you say, but I'd rather not put money where it won't do any good. To me or to anyone, you know."

Peter shrugged. "Hey, plenty of worlds to go around," he said. "And in my experience - there's always someone who needs money to do good things."

"Well, let me know when you find one, and I'll happily bring out the checkbook," Emily said brightly.

"Be careful what you ask for," Peter said, smiling (it was fake). "I am politically active."

"If you wanted money you would be way nicer," Emily replied, smiling (not fake for once). "Unless you're that good."

"Right now I don't have much use for money," Peter said honestly. "I earn enough to pay for what I need. But that's just because I'm still only a consultant."

Key word being 'still'.

Emily's eyebrows went up in contemplation. Good looking guy with big plans for the future? She could use that, somehow. Maybe.

"Well, remember this conversation when you are more, then."

"Maybe I will," Peter said.

This could be useful.

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reven8e.livejournal.com - 2013-04-21 22:23 (UTC) - Expand

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