Room 420, Thursday afternoon

[revengenotebook]

Paris knew part of why she was antsy (and thank you ever so much for that, useless island), but she was blaming the other part on the missing letter from her pile of college acceptances. She'd gotten into Yale, Bryn Mawr, and Williams, but the one she really wanted was still not here.

Where was Harvard?

She looked up at her vision board, with all of the application sections had been carefully checked off and blew out a breath.

"Probably stuck in the interdimensional nexus mail or something," she muttered to herself. "It'll be here."

She propped the door open and flopped herself down on her bed with a bit of light reading--Michelle Obama's autobiography. People in her timeline were going to think she was a political savant, knowing who was going to get elected next.

[OOC: Expecting one, but open!]

Comments

[crack_that_whip]

Trevor had no idea what most of those places were, to be honest. But that wouldn't stop him from wandering over to an open room as he tried to keep working off all the, you know, every going on.

"No more parties?"

[revengenotebook]

"Not that I've been told about," Paris said, looking up. "Well, other than prom, but that's tomorrow. There'll probably be kissing there."

[crack_that_whip]

"The thing they're selling tickets to?" Look, he was bad at schooling proper.

[revengenotebook]

Paris nodded. "Because it's fancy and we have to pay for the metric tons of glitter somehow."

[crack_that_whip]

"...the fuck you say?" Look, he missed out on arts and crafts time!

[revengenotebook]

"Have you not gone to a school dance?" Paris asked.

[crack_that_whip]

"Not really?" He was homeschooled. Also homeless. So. "Didn't really care much for the social niceties of high society."

[revengenotebook]

"This is hardly high society," Paris said with a snort. "Come on in. Ignore the giant fish tank. That's my roommate's. He's really a fish, not like a very committed cosplayer as I thought for about six months."

[crack_that_whip]

"Sidon," Trevor said, latching onto the thing he understood there. "My roommate has a cat face, so..."

See, they now had things in common!

[revengenotebook]

"That's not makeup?" Paris gasped.

[crack_that_whip]

"No? Why would someone put that much work into it every day?" he asked slowly.

[revengenotebook]

"Because the other option is that she actually looks like a cat. But only halfway!"

Flail, Paris, flail.

[crack_that_whip]

He just gestured over toward Sidon's half of the room. You know. Like a guy who totally knew all about werewolves and vampires and shit. It was all old news to him.

[revengenotebook]

"This place is so weird!" she didn't shriek.

But it was close. And she was maaaaybe a little tense this week.

[crack_that_whip]

"The pizza thing is pretty nice, though," Trevor ventured. Showing off that classic Belmont ability to comfort people by being a fucking moron. "Indoor plumbing too."

[revengenotebook]

"Oh my god, where are you from that doesn't have indoor plumbing?" Paris asked.

[crack_that_whip]

"Wallachia." Which wasn't even a thing now. Which was weird. "Few... centuries back?"

[revengenotebook]

"I have never heard of it," Paris said, frowning. "Is it in Europe?"

[crack_that_whip]

"It's apparently called Romania now." Of course that was one of the things he looked up.

[revengenotebook]

"That I have heard of," Paris said, smiling. "I won't make vampire jokes."

Because he was cuuuuute.

[crack_that_whip]

"Betwwen them and The Church, it's a country full of bloodsuckers," he replied dryly.

[revengenotebook]

Paris burst out laughing. "That's funny. You're funny."

So smooth, Paris.

[crack_that_whip]

"It's true," Trevor said, preening a little.

[revengenotebook]

Paris patted an empty spot on her bed for him to sit, then immediately worried that was being kind of slutty.

Eh, too late now.

"Modest, too."

[crack_that_whip]

"Well, what man is?" he asked, taking that seat.

Like a harlot.