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Third Floor Common Room [Tuesday Evening]

Bobby was, to put it quite plainly, bored.

Even the television had proved unsatisfactory in terms of entertainment factor, which is why he was now sitting on the floor surrounded by reams of paper with the television just on for the sake of background noise.

He was determined, you see, to build the perfect paper airplane.

[ooc: open!]

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"Boy Scout Bobby," Kennedy greeted him as she came in, lured by curiosity at the sound of the TV.

"...what are you doing?"

"I'm not a Boy Scout," Bobby rolled his eyes. "And I'm failing at paper airplanes." Boy Scouts could probably make perfect paper airplanes every time!

"But you could be," Kennedy pointed out, and turned a chair around to straddle it and put her arms over the back just to be all baby butch. "You're just lucky I'm not the type to bitch you out for killing trees in the process of your failure."

Bobby wasn't about to argue that no he couldn't, because when most kids his age were joining Boy Scouts, he'd been busy manifesting mutant powers. And after that, well, his parents weren't too keen on him doing anything that might accidentally expose his freak status.

"Technically they're already dead, anyway," he pointed out instead. Smartass.

Edited 2009-09-09 02:30 (UTC)

"Smartass," Kennedy said ~~because she'd read the narrative~~. "Like I said, I'm not the type."

Good thing he hadn't said any of that. She didn't need any more reasons to whine about not having powers.

"And I'd probably just ignore you if you were," Bobby admitted.

"And you're the wrong gender for me to care that much if you did, so lucky you, huh?" Oh, Kennedy, you're so modest.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kennedy stared at him, then laughed. "You'll figure it out someday."

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"I don't think we've met," Jennifer said, greeting Kennedy. "I'm Jennifer Walters."

"Kennedy," she said with a slow smile. "~~Ask for a last name and I cut you.~~ I'd remember if we had."

"Especially if I ever got angry," Jennifer said, chuckling. "You must be one of the new batch."

"Damn. I was hoping a week and a half would knock the shine off," Kennedy said with a sigh. "And hey, angry's kinda hot sometimes, you know? Not always a bad thing."

Some people don't do subtle well. Kennedy's the sort of person who subtle looks at, and runs screaming in the other direction.

"Well, depends," Jennifer said. "How do you feel about muscles and the color green?"

Jen wasn't quite aware of what Kennedy was getting at. She was just having fun.

So was Kennedy. In a totally different way.

"As long as it's not that freaky new-VW-Beetle shade? Completely in favor on both counts."

"Well, then I'm definitely hot when I'm angry," Jennifer said. "I'm always afraid people won't like me when I'm angry."

Kennedy, she is not talking about a green leather jacket. Please keep that in-- you won't, will you?

Of course not.

"Try me," she said. "Except I wouldn't mind staying on your good side either."

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"Hullo!" Merlin said to the new person, waving a piece of paper that was folded one too many times.

"Hey-- whoa, funky contacts," Kennedy said. What, tact?

With this one?

Please.

"Contacts--" Merlin frowned before he remembered Ghanima saying something about them as well. "Oh! Um, no. They're not contact."

Kennedy leaned over to get a closer look. "Crazy," she said. "Those are real?"

"They're a bit--new." Because that made perfect sense, yes.

"What, did you get replacements from Liberace's personal eye doctor?"

Hey, a statement that made that much sense deserved an equally sensical comeback.

See, it would have worked better with someone from this era.

"...who?"

"I thought everybody knew who Liberace was," Kennedy said, frowning. "Oh, wait, you must be an alien like my roommate, huh?"

You just keep making awesome logical leaps, Kennedy. Rock on with your bad self.

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