Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [05/06].

[howareyanow]

Well. Wayne figured he was getting settled into this new place well enough, though the whole island was pretty strange and a little fruity-loops. Worst of it all, though, was the complete lack of things to do. Wasn't used to not having things to do, not even on Sunday, as his family was never particularleh religious (who's got that kind of money?). But he did get a chance to check out the town; even without the castle, it was pretty surreal, and odd that it was somehow smaller than Letterkenny.

No chores. No planting. No nothing. And then he didn't even have any workshops until Tuesday. Fuck. What was he going to do with all this free time? Didn't much care for that. Free time.

Know what he could do, though? He could make breakfast. And not just some toss some flakes in bowl and hit it with some milk breakfast, but a real hearty farmhouse kinda breakfast. Had a decent kitchen in the common rooms, by the look of it, might as well make good use of it. Good selection of food and produce at the general store, got himself everything he needed for a good helping of eggs and bacon, pork sausage and hash browns, fresh fruit, mix up some batter for pancakes with some real maple syrup...

No French toast, though. French toast was just a waste of time.

Good way to start the week, really, and not a bad way to make an impression by feeding people, either.

Breakfast was on. Come an' get it.

[[ open open open, of course there's plenteh! ]]

Comments

[chirpchirpchirp]

Vette brightened up at that, pointing at Wayne with her fork (a piece of egg at the end) and nodding.

"Those thingies! The big ones!"

[howareyanow]

And that just left Wayne faintly wondering if there was a blue alien equivelent of a Horse Girl, and, if there was, he was pretty sure he'd rather not find out about it.

"Never worked much with horses myself," he admitted. "But if that's all they got, well, maybe it's about time I started."

[chirpchirpchirp]

"Horses at the stables, puppies at the shelter, rabbits in the woods, and fish... basically anywhere there's water. There's not really a shortage of stuff to do, once you know where to look."

Once you knew where all the good trouble was to be found.

[howareyanow]

Seems pretty obvious, too," Wanye noted, with a grateful nod, "once you really think about it. But I appreciate the help, Vette. Good lookin' out. You been here at this school for long?"

[chirpchirpchirp]

"Since September," Vette replied, shrugging. "So... I got here in time for all the cold wintry stuff. I'm looking forward to being able to go outside without having to wrap myself up in fifteen billion layers first."

She grinned a little.

"I hope the summers get good and hot. But not desert hot. Comfortable hot. Actually-do-things-outdoors hot."

[howareyanow]

"Oh, for this climate, desert hot's not very likeleh," said Wayne, squinting thoughtfully. "Too much water around for that, so it'll be humid, zone like this, humid subtropical, if I'm not mistaken, right underneath the40th parallel, probably about an average high of...oh, I'd say right round thirty, thirty five degrees."

Alright there, Farmer's Almanac.

"I guess that's...'bout 90, in Fahrenheit, but fuck Fahrenheit. How's anyone gonna expect me to trust anything that starts its scale at thirty-two? What starts at thirty-two? I'll tell you what starts at thirty-two, a whole lot of nothing, that's what. Decent scale makes sense starting at zero. What happens at zero degrees Fahrenheit that don't happen at twelve or negative five? Fuck."

[chirpchirpchirp]

"I think some kind of salt water freezes," Vette mused, a little vaguely, "but I was with you at thirty anyway." She tilted her head a little, and then squinted. "What are your feelings on metric?"

Very important question from a girl who measured distance in meters.

[howareyanow]

"On this entire planet," Wayne forged forward with a tone that suggested he might not have a lot of feelings about metric itself, but he had plenty of them for things that weren't, "there are only three countries that don't officially use the metric system. Number A," he held up a hand, pinky finger shooting out, "Myanmarrr. Number B," out went his ring finger, "Liberia. And number C," both fingers folded back down, leaving now just the middle one, "the United States of Go Fuck Yourself and Your Sensible, Logical Method of Measurement. Human beings have been using a base-10 system of measurement since the fifth century, until some kings decided, 'nope, not for me,' and had to go mix things up. Now, I'll give you a mile; a mile's not half bad. You've got a country mile, the Mile-High Club, and you've got one-hit wonder Scottish twin alt-rock duo the Proclaimers' 'I'm Gonna Be'-Parentheses-'500 Miles', which is a solid jam. But a yard's just a nice patch of grass outside your house, and a foot? Well, I know just where you can put your fucking foot, and that'll be right up your ass, that's what you can do with a foot."

Welcome to Wayne, Vette. He had Opinions.

[chirpchirpchirp]

Vette blinked.

Vette blinked again, her fork halfway to her mouth, her eyes wide.

She was possibly in a faint bit of awe, here.

"I like you," she decided. "You can stay."