fandomhighdorms | Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

The kid sitting in the common room watching Skinemax looked like Joker, and talked like Joker, and watched pornography like Joker, but was not Joker.

Scott was sick of his dad being all controlling and evil (like, literally), and had run away from home. He'd meant to go backpacking across Europe and ski the Alps... but he'd kind of gotten lost in the airport. That was okay. This seemed like a chill place to hang. He'd kick it here for a bit, and then maybe Dad would, you know, care that he was gone or some crap like that.

He didn't really notice the extra singing going on today, either, because he was singing on purpose -- today he was working on his air guitar. Annnnd that was another clue that he wasn't Joker -- the prancing around like an idiot without crutches. While strumming his hand in the air amd singing.

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us

(Joker is now Scott Evil from the Austin Powers movies. The common room is open.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hey, Joker," Alana said easily as she wondered into the common room. She'd been ignoring the weirdness because it didn't affect her. "I didn't know you sang."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Scott told her with a grin. "And a lot I don't know about you. Let's start with your name, and move on to secret fears and kinky obsessions from there."

He shrugged. "Oh, hey, check it:" It was time for more air guitar.

Falling away from me.
Falling away from me.

Beating me down.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.
Screaming some sound.
Beating me, beating me.
Down, down.
Into the ground.

"I'm Alana," Alana said, giving him a strange look as she decided to play along. "I have this kinky obsession with not telling you about my kinks, and ...

I care a lot, use an analog clock
And never know when to stop
And I'm passive, aggressive
I'm scared of the dark and the dentist
I love my butt and won't shut up
And I never really grew up

She frowned in confusion. "Wait, why am I singing?"

Scott shrugged. "I dunno. I don't know that one. Who's it by?"

"Mary Lambert, I think?" Alana said, stumbling a little as she tried to recall the last name. "It's new. Ish. I didn't even know I knew the words."

Scott shrugged. "Well, you sing pretty, even if the song kind of sucks. Hey, listen, Alanis, I think we've got a pretty good thing going, here. A nice rapport, you know? But before this goes any further, I really need to know -- are you an agent of my dad's sent here to seduce and capture me and bring me home? 'Cause that would really suck. It's just the sort of thing he'd pull, too... Either an agent or a Fembot. Oh, crap, you could be a Fembot."

He looked deep into Alana's eyes, searching for signs of deception. "I need you to answer this for me, and I need you to, like, pinky swear that you're telling the truth, okay?: Are there machine guns in your nipples?"

"Are there -- I'm going to find Eleanor and she's going to kill you so dead," Alana informed him. "Seriously if you didn't have your bone thing I'd be punching you into next week right about now."

"Ela-who? Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it's a seriously important question, one that I can't help but notice you're dodging. I have a gun, okay? It's in the weapons locker, and I can run and get it. Are you or are you not an assassin sex robot sent by my dad to kidnap me? You've got 'till the count of ten, and then... Uh. Well, you'd have to wait here while I got my gun. But I promise, you'll be sorry!"

"You're right, it sounds crazy," Alana said, and then frowned at him. He didn't sound right at all. "Wait -- okay, this is going to sound, um, almost as crazy, but you aren't Joker, are you?" And then she had to think about what Joker's actual name was. "Jeff Moreau?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Scott said, snickering. "You -- you actually thought that I, someone you've never seen before, was one of your friends?! You have got to be kidding! I mean, no offense, but that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! ...Well, from anyone who isn't my dad, anyway."

Still snickering, he held out his hand for her to shake. "Scott. Scott Evil. ...Wait, if you don't know who I am, then that means my dad didn't send you! Awesome! I don't have to kill you!"

"If you saw him,you'd know why I got confused," Alana shrugged, and gave him the quickest handshake known to man. "And nope, I have no idea who your dad is. Thank you for not killing me."

Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject