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fandomhighdorms2015-09-01 01:25 pm
rebelseekspizza) wrote in fandomhighdorms2015-09-01 01:25 pm
Entry tags:
3rd Floor Common Room, Tuesday Morning
You know what? Dante had actually gotten some sleep last night. Funny what the right visit to the right place could do.
That... wasn't actually stopping him from wandering a few paces into the common room and then crashing on the sofa. Sure, he had class, but that was in an hour, and someone had left a whole pack of cereal sitting around. It was practically asking him to finish it, right? Right.
He had the pack in hand a second later, his feet on the table, and his hand on the remote. Three days here and counting; he was actually somewhat relaxed for once. He was gonna enjoy it now, at least until the first demon or something jumped out and tried to go at it.
[[ open! ]]
That... wasn't actually stopping him from wandering a few paces into the common room and then crashing on the sofa. Sure, he had class, but that was in an hour, and someone had left a whole pack of cereal sitting around. It was practically asking him to finish it, right? Right.
He had the pack in hand a second later, his feet on the table, and his hand on the remote. Three days here and counting; he was actually somewhat relaxed for once. He was gonna enjoy it now, at least until the first demon or something jumped out and tried to go at it.
[[ open! ]]
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She'd do this all the way up to the sixth floor if she had to (though usually she managed to score something good by the fourth).
It wasn't until the she was closing the fridge, a carton of eggs in hand, that she actually realized someone was in the common room with her. She'd kind of blitzed past with single-minded intensity all focused on FOOD. "Hey," she called over her shoulder, more interested in finding a frying pan than figuring out who had claimed the couch. "You're not going to watch Crying Breakfast Friends, are you? That show is terrible."
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He was kidding. ...This time.
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Yeah, she was making that up entirely. Kathy had the internet for porn. Not that she would ever admit it.
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Back to the fridge to see if there was any butter or more veggies she could cut up for her omelette. Like...ooh! A tomato! And half a bell pepper! Score!
"What do you have today anyway?" she asked, her curiosity about all things academic rising to the fore.
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That was what he was used to in that department. "Probably less fucked up than art class."
... he had a strange hierarchy, here.
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Hold a knife like this, Eliot had said, demonstrating, it cuts through an onion. Hold a knife like this and it cuts through, like, eight yakuza in four seconds.
"It's art class that's weird. Certainly not a class on magical creatures." Though she was hoping for cryptozoology, not necessarily a class that focused solely on demons. "I'm in that class."
Kathy, you would be in every class if you were allowed.
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He was still weirded out - not necessarily in a bad way - that everyone around here seemed to accept that shit. That there were allegedly self-defense classes that took that kind of thing into account.
Made him wonder if he was dreaming or something.
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She added the sliced onions and peppers to the frying pan to saute them up in some butter, salt and pepper, then reached for the eggs.
"I'm not sure about your problem with watercress sandwiches, though." Honestly, of all the cuisine out there, that was downright tame.
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He ate another mouthful of cereal and swallowed it before he bothered to say anything else. "Those portals have got to be ridiculously expensive."
Probably explained why Vergil could make them. Not that he knew Vergil.no subject
And, lbr, Vergil probably also made watercress sandwiches."Once again, I find myself humbled and amazed that my meager offerings the other night met with your approval," Kathy said, because there was something about talking to Dante that brought out her sassy side. Must be all that 'charm' he displayed. "But, yeah, portals are expensive. Like a hundred dollars each? But I don't know if the school gets some kind of discount or something. And, honestly, once you see the Danger Shop, you won't be quite as surprised by all the money the classes throw around."
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Probably because they could be taken off, Kathy. Duh.
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... to be fair, he was pretty paranoid, but still.
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She carefully poured her eggs into a second frying pan; they'd have to cook a bit before she added the veggie mix if she wanted a proper omelette. And--ooh! She should check for cheese!
"And I can't afford to repair that if I broke anything, so I haven't been entirely keen on messing with it to answer my questions, either."
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Much at all.
He squinted at Kathy. "Hey, so did you pick your classes, or what?"
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She looked back at Dante again. "There's more to heaven and earth than are dreamt of in most people's philosophy. Knowing about it, understanding it, well, I can control it a little, you know? And that's something I'll always have that no one can take away from me."
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There's more to heaven and earth? Why the hell did that sound familiar?
Dante gave her a curious look. "Superheroes? What, like capes and cartoons? You're kidding, right?"
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"Some of them wear capes, but that's not my thing," Kathy admitted, grabbing a plate and sliding her eggs onto it. Mmm. They smelled amazing and her stomach growled just looking at them. "Works for The Mighty Dragon, though. Gorgon mostly wears body armor under his leather duster, I think, and, well, you saw what I wear the other night."
Kathy sprawled into a chair nearby the couch, kicking her legs over one arm. "So no, I'm not joking. Superheroes. Or, to sound a little less cartoony, costumed vigilante crimefighters. Does that make it a little easier for you to buy?"
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You know what, when he said it out loud, it... really didn't sound much easier to buy. "So that's why you were roughing up some Ukranians last night?" Beat. "Don't tell me you've got a catchphrase."
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"That was why I was roughing up some Ukrainians," she agreed. "There's a syndicate in DC that's looking to move down here because Baltimore doesn't have much organized crime. I've seen what happens to places where gangs move in and the cops can't--or won't--do anything. It gets bad. So I'm trying to convince them to look somewhere else."
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"You're crazy," he decided, taking another bite of that cereal. "I mean, it's all nice and heroic, don't get me wrong. Y'know. If you care about that kinda thing."
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She set her plate aside and leaned forward, jaw set. "I do care. Because I've seen what happens when people don't. So I go out and protect people as best I can and if that makes you call me crazy, or stupid, or idealistic, or naive, or any of the other hundred words that mean you don't get why this is important, then whatever. You think what you want. I'll still jump to protect you, too."
Even if she thought he was an asshole while she was doing it.
"And, yes, I'm sure you're just fine and don't need some girl protecting you, yadda yadda," she added, figuring that was going to be the next thing out of his mouth. "I said it, you don't have to."
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Instead, when she stopped talking, there was the loud crunch of molars grinding on cereal. Then swallowing.
Then: "Yeah, whatever."
He didn't care that she was a girl, or anything. People protecting him? Yeah, whatever. He'd buy it when he saw it.
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"Looks like we'll both be waiting awhile then," she deadpanned, instead. "Hard to believe I'm this resistant, I know. I'm shocked at my own inner fortitude."
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And then he did flip her off, because he was totally that kind of person.