Jonathan 'Flick' Brennan (
flickofthewrist) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2013-11-04 10:25 am
Entry tags:
5th floor common room ; monday afternoon
There'd been a new file on Flick's computer when he'd woken up that morning. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out who sent it, not with file name like when you're ready. Mandel was apparently sending him gifts these days. Flick's cursor had hovered over the file for a few moments before he'd turned his computer off. He knew what was in that file: information. Information on his father and possibly the proof that he needed to implicate his old man in Jude's murder. But, Flick wasn't going to take that route, not yet. No, he'd use that information later. After he burned Mandel Academy to the ground, after he took Mandel himself. After. Sure, in the interim, he'd have to worry about his DNA turning him into a murderous predator but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
His leg was a little stiff this morning so he was taking it easy in the common room. He had a soft spot for the couches, what could he say? The stiffness in his leg meant he'd ordered lunch and had it brought to him. Nothing fancy, just a pizza with everything on it, but he hadn't had to walk into town and it was cheap. He still had plenty of money from selling a bunch of crap last week.
Of course, his luck had to run out eventually. As soon as he turned on the television, an animated Christmas movie assaulted him. That's right, the holidays were coming, weren't they? Great. That was fantastic.
He changed the channel. More Christmas movies. Another channel switch, another Christmas movie.
So, apparently the television hated him. Fine. He'd just hate watch the animated Christmas movie and curse the world when Jingle Bells ended up stuck in his head.
[Open place. Canonical parts lifted from How to Lead a Life of Crime. Christmas is coming.]
His leg was a little stiff this morning so he was taking it easy in the common room. He had a soft spot for the couches, what could he say? The stiffness in his leg meant he'd ordered lunch and had it brought to him. Nothing fancy, just a pizza with everything on it, but he hadn't had to walk into town and it was cheap. He still had plenty of money from selling a bunch of crap last week.
Of course, his luck had to run out eventually. As soon as he turned on the television, an animated Christmas movie assaulted him. That's right, the holidays were coming, weren't they? Great. That was fantastic.
He changed the channel. More Christmas movies. Another channel switch, another Christmas movie.
So, apparently the television hated him. Fine. He'd just hate watch the animated Christmas movie and curse the world when Jingle Bells ended up stuck in his head.
[Open place. Canonical parts lifted from How to Lead a Life of Crime. Christmas is coming.]

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Without even meaning to, he scowled at the talking snowman on the screen like this was all his fault.
"I'm, I guess, new to the concept of holiday spirit," he hedged. "As much as you can be coming from New York, with all the Christmas markets and giant trees, anyway. I just don't see the point of it."
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He shook his head, falling quiet. "It's a materialistic holiday disguised by cute little snowmen and a big fat guy and his sweatshop of little elf workers."
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"And people buy into it because spending all that money on presents is just part of being generous and cheerful during the season," he said, with an amount of contempt in his voice that surprised even himself. "I just mean -- there's social pressure."
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And he didn't agree so Alec didn't need to worry about convincing him. "The pressure's not gonna let up for the next two months either Fight or flight, man."
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Flick's tone made it clear that he didn't believe that. "Yeah, no one's getting anything from me unless something really changes in like the next six weeks. Maybe I'll toss some candy someone's way."
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What a bunch of happy people the two of them were. Seriously.
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"Someone tries to get me to carol, they're liable to end up bloody," he said, half serious. "I don't sing or dance or celebrate merrily."
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Oh, there was going to be one. It was called room 401. Victor was going to have to accept that.
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Well, Joi. But, he'd cut ties with her for the greater good. That's what he was telling himself.
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"Baltimore might also work," he offered. "As far as depressing cities go..."
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Flick sniggered and nodded. "True. I'll probably end up staying here. Last trip home wasn't that much fun. Hence me saying nothing happy there. I think my part of New York would make even freaking Santa Claus shed a tear. Or need therapy."
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Not that that was much of a difference from how he spent every other day.
He paused for a moment before asking, "Anything noteworthy happen? On that trip?" It seemed there was still a part of him whose ears perked up whenever someone who appeared to be a mundane mentioned something of note happening in New York in particular. Differing universes aside, could it be a demon thing?
...No. It wasn't. But good try, Alec.
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"Spent fourteen days in a coma," Flick shared nonchalantly. "As the song would go 'baby did a bad bad thing.'"
Flick wasn't sure if Alec would know the song but it fit.
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He wasn't going to ask about the screwing over powerful people. He and Flick had met all of twice, so he didn't feel like he should be prying. Besides, being with Sparkle had kind of trained it into him not to ask about hinted-at petty crimes, even if this one didn't sound quite so petty.
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"Probably sooner rather than later," he added. "I've still gotta burn the world down there."
He'd said that to someone already in the past week. Might as well use it again.