Work Text:
Patton wakes up at seven am. While he’s rather sleep in until one in the afternoon, it isn’t much of an option. I need to make breakfast for the kiddos. Wearing a cat onesie in the kitchen, he begins to fry a few eggs. He turns on the boombox, listening to intense dance music at a lower volume. He works on his cardio as he maneuvers around the kitchen. Randall has just woken up. He’s willing to sacrifice sleep for the thrill of the experience and the blackmail he plans to collect. He stumbles over his feet getting dressed, but he’s clearheaded when he steps out for a jog. At the park, he meditates in the calm morning air and goes through a few warming yoga poses.
Ed has just woken also. He’s complaining but he’s got a million things to do. He cleans up any clutter that he or Jim left last night. His brain isn’t functioning at high capacity yet, but he gets his body moving by cleaning around. Logan has more things on his plate than he should. Even though he struggled to fall asleep last night, he resentfully crawls out of bed to get things going. He opens the blinds and regulates his breathing. He consults his motivation book (that he keeps at his dresser) for some daily inspiration. He then grabs his checklist from the desk. He needs the satisfaction that comes from checking them off.
Patton notices Ed cleaning up the lounge area out of the corner of his eye. “What’ll you have for breakfast, kiddo?”
Ed blinks at being addressed. “Um, don’t bother. I’ll just grab some cereal.”
Patton frowns. “I can make you a fruit salad?”
Ed bites his lip, not wanting to make his new roommates mad. He’s used to eating cereal, but a fruit salad sounds appetizing.
“What sort of fruit?”
Patton hums appreciatively. “I was thinking about watermelon, grapes, kiwi fruit, pineapple, and strawberries. But we don’t have any pineapple, so I think I’ll use cantaloupe instead. Or would you prefer honeydew melon? I could call Randall and ask if he wouldn’t mind picking up a fruit or two while he’s out on his jog.”
“Uh, no. Cantaloupe is fine. Thank you.”
Patton smiles, and Logan walks into view. The older man has got toast cooking, tree pans steaming on the stove, his head in the refrigerator, and an array on the table. Before he can ask any questions, Patton senses his arrival and beats him to the punch.
“What would you like for breakfast, Lolo?”
“Granola’s fine for me.”
When Logan starts shifting things around to search for his granola, Patton’s wavering voice cuts through.
“Or I can fix you toast and jam.”
Logan pauses and cocks his head to the side. “Toast and jam?”
Patton nods as the toast pops up. He catches it on a paper plate while balancing a kiwi and a crate of blueberries.
“It’s much more filling than granola.”
Logan opens his mouth to argue when Patton sets the jam jar onto the table, and the former’s eyes widen.
“Crofters jam?” He grins, taking a butter knife. “Yes, toast and jam is the way to go for breakfast.”
Patton nudges him, sprinkling cinnamon onto the toast. “Try it.”
Logan does so and almost moans at the taste. Patton grins triumphantly.
Jim didn’t have a good night’s rest, what with a million thoughts racing around his head. He’s already been awake for an hour, but he finally gets out of bed at a quarter after seven. He grabs his journal from a drawer in his dresser, jotting down his floating thoughts. He grabs his phone and headphones, tuning into the latest TedTalk. Making a mental note to chat with Harvey after breakfast, he heads downstairs.
Roman is all about getting his beauty sleep. He complains when his alarm clock goes off, but he still gets out of bed. He rolls out a yoga mat and exercises before heading to the shower. When he steps out, he attempts to call his friend Joan. They don’t pick up, so Roman spends his time journaling before walking downstairs.
Patton chops the fruit taking intervals to stir and flip the other breakfast items. Two more pieces of bread have taken up residency in the toaster.
“Good morning, Jim! What would you like for breakfast?”
The younger boy takes out his headphones and notices Ed’s eyes glued on the knife while Patton chops each fruit effortlessly. Jim shifts.
“I was just going to grab a grapefruit.”
Patton hums. He pours soldiered eggs onto a paper plate and adds a melon.
“Try eggs and honeydew instead. Go have breakfast with Logan in the den.”
“Yes, Sir,” He sleepily responds, taking his food.
Patton is nearly finished with the salad when Roman bounds down the stairs.
“Good morning, Starshine!” Patton calls from over his shoulder. “What’ll you have for breakfast today?”
“I need some orange juice, Padre. You can surprise me on the food.”
Patton beams like he’s won the lottery. He grabs a clear plastic cup and grabs the carton of orange juice from the fridge. The toast pops out, and Patton catches it again. This time, he adds a piece of bread and an Eggo waffle. He flips his food on the stove, pouring one item out into another pan, before grabbing the peanut butter and honey from the shelf. He pours the fresh pot of coffee into six different mugs and starts brewing a new batch.
“Coffee’s ready!”
Logan, Ed, and Jim step forward, and Patton hands them the mugs. He sets the sugar, milk, cream, and agave syrup on the table for them to add as they please. A chorus of ‘thank you’s erupt once they settle with their coffees.
Merlin is a serious sleeper, but when his alarm goes off at eight am, he’s ready to throw some water in his face to start the day. He throws on some loose sweats and goes out for a jog. Before he leaves, Patton calls out to him.
“What’ll you have for breakfast, kiddo?”
“Pop-Tarts?” He asks, looking at the mess in the kitchen.
“I’ll see you soon, kiddo.”
Ed faces him in shock after the door leaves. “You’re just going to make him Pop-Tarts?”
Patton shrugs. “Pop-Tart porridge.”
Ed smirks, but Patton sighs. Roman walks over with an empty Procaffeination mug and grabs a kitchen barstool.
“What’s up, Padre?”
“Hmm? Oh, I’m just trying to decide what else to make. Nothing important.” The fruit salad is made, and he smiles while handing the bowl and a fork to Ed.
Ed thanks him and goes to sit with the others. The waffle pops up, and Patton lathers it in peanut butter and honey. He slices up some leftover fruit and spreads it along the waffle, creating a breakfast pizza. Patton hands over the pizza and refills Roman’s mug, and the latter taps the former’s wrist. Patton blinks back.
“How about you give me a few options, and I’ll pick the best sounding ones.”
Patton’s eyes brighten. “That sounds like fun! Like a game!”
“Sure, like a game.”
“Okay, well, Randall left before I came out here. Okay, the little iguana likes to walk but only recently. What was that movie you two were watching last night?”
“Ella Enchanted.”
Patton nods. “Fantasy movie about overcoming a curse with Elton John, Queen, and Aretha Franklin…” He ignores Roman’s eyes widening at the older man’s psychoanalysis coming out. “So, I could make a croissant, or…”
As Patton looks around the kitchen and quickly turns off the back-right eye on the stove, Roman clears his throat.
“A croissant sounds great. Do you want some help?”
Patton raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you banned from the kitchen?”
Roman chuckles. “… yeah. Alright. Who’s next?”
“Hmm? Oswald. My dark little mastermind has a crush on the acrobat, I believe. He’s cultured, watching all those older shows despite his age. And he loves his family, but he’s still got that dark streak going on. Maybe cinnamon oatmeal? He’s Hungarian-American, and he’s familiar with the club called Mooney’s. I need to look that up and make sure he’s safe. I’ve seen his attitude toward dark makeup, and a criminology major on top of it all. Maybe he’d go for a jam ‘n cream French toast.”
Roman blinks with a mouthful of pizza. “The French toast sounds right.”
Patton nods, adding butter and Crofter’s to the pan on the top left eye. “Should take about ten minutes. Next is Virgil. Last I saw, Oz was helping him with a nightmare. He gardens to cope with anxiety, my sweet dark son. I should give him toast. But not with Crofter’s. almond butter, maybe? Or marmite?”
Roman holds up a green berry from the table. “How about avocado?”
Patton grins. “That is an excellent idea!”
Merlin ran into Randall at the park, and they walk back inside in time for their breakfasts. Patton flips the French toast and then grabs the bowl of Pop-Tart porridge and the paper plate with the honey-drizzled croissant.
“Hey, kiddos! Come into the kitchen. Breakfast is ready!”
Merlin and Randall shrug and walk in, getting a whiff of dessert-type meals and feeling the dance music through their systems. Patton hands them their specific meals.
“Do you want orange juice or coffee?”
The younger boys accept the foods and ask for coffee. Patton pours fresh coffee into the Brew Silly Goose and Decant Stop Me mugs, handing them off.
“Go enjoy your breakfast in the lounge with the others, now.”
They oblige. Patton turns off the stove eyes, moving the pans around. “Now that nothing can burn while I’m gone, I am going to go wake up my darker sons.”
In his sleep, Oswald loves to feel cuddly and safe. In the dead of night, Virgil woke him with a nightmare. In response, sleepy Oswald climbed into bed with the younger boy. Oz is instantly cranky when Patton comes in to wake them up. Virgil believes in beauty sleep and automatically latches onto Oz when the latter starts shuffling.
“Hey, Virge, honey. Gotta let go so Oz can wake up. Doesn’t breakfast sound good?”
Virgil mumbles under his breath, but he lets go. Oz runs a hand across his face and grabs his hairbrush. He looks at himself in the mirror.
“I need a shower, and I need it now.”
Patton smiles knowingly. He gently rubs Virgil’s shoulders and pulls him upright.
“Do you need anything to wake you up, Sweetheart?”
“Crossword,” He mumbles.
Without thinking much of it, Patton quickly kisses Virgil’s forehead and stands up. He ignores the younger boy’s phone charging and lit up with a text message and instead grabs the top puzzle book sitting next to it. When he turns around, Virgil is wearing a patchy purple and black hoodie and holding the dark purple and black pen from yesterday’s game.
“Here you go, Virge. I love your hoodie. Your breakfast is ready when you are, but I need to go back to the kitchen and fix food for the others.”
“Thanks, Pat.” Virgil smiles shyly, and Patton grins.
Patton returns to the kitchen and Roman smiles. He’s finished his pizza and is nursing his second mug of coffee at the kitchen table. Patton looks around and sees that a lot of the dishes he used are soaking in the sink.
“Did you do this, Ro-ro?”
Roman blushes at the new nickname but shrugs around his coffee. “Maybe it was magic.”
“Ooh, I do love magic. Do you want to continue the game?”
“Go for it, Mark from RENT.”
Patton tilts his head. “If I’m Mark, wouldn’t that make you my ex-girlfriend?”
Roman blinks. “What?”
“Maureen’s an outrageous performance artist. She best fits you.”
“I… guess.”
“Not that I’m calling you unfaithful, of course.”
“Who’s unfaithful?” Virgil asks, appearing in the entryway.
“Ah, we’re talking about RENT, Virge.” Patton shakes his head and hands the boy a plate with avocado toast.
Virgil accepts it and joins the others in the lounge without direction. Patton claps his hands.
“Okay, back to the game! We’ve still got my little network bee. He’s a cat person. Clinical anxiety and he sang his little school song. I certainly didn’t know my alma mater while I was in school. He’s so… Canadian.”
“Canadian?” Roman repeats.
“Mmm… Canadian bacon seems a little too on the nose. He’ll have some scrambled eggs, toast and marmite, and orange juice. Sound good?”
“Uh-huh. Who’s left?”
Patton cleans out a frying pan and cracks two more eggs. “The little acrobat and my warrior. Let’s see… Victor dances and he’s a bit of a violent cookie. We need to get some protein in him. Maybe some homemade granola bars?”
“Sure you got the time?”
“Ooh, good point. Maybe I should make him some waffles and coffee.”
Roman nods. “Alright. And… warrior? Arthur?”
Patton’s grin widens. “Yep, and I’ve just thought of something great to make him. Pain au chocolat.”
“… what is that?”
“It’s a croissant with a chocolate egg inside,” Virgil comments, depositing his dishes in the sink. “Thanks for breakfast, Pat. I’m gonna go for a shower.”
Patton nods and notices Oswald walking in. He hands the younger boy a special plate of French toast and an Urn an Honest Penny mug of coffee. As he adds his sugar and cream, Patton turns his attention back to the croissant. He’s in the middle of adding the egg when the waffle pops up. Oswald helps, grabbing a paper plate and syrup.
“Who’s the waffle for?”
“Victor. I haven’t woken him yet.”
“I can take over in here if you want to go wake him.”
“You cook for your mother?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you, Oz.” Patton gives him a quick kiss to his forehead and leaves the kitchen.
Oswald blushes again but turns his attention to the food. Menlo has so many goals and a serious amount of ambition, but that he’s also obsessed with his bed. He's lying in bed thinking about his long to-do list, choosing to snooze anyway. Patton places a hand on his shoulder and gently shakes him awake.
“Up and at ‘em, kiddo.”
“Mmmm… do I have to?”
“Afraid so. Breakfast is waiting.”
“Breakfast?”
“Eggs, marmite, and orange juice.”
Menlo sits up and yawns. “Okay. Bathroom first.”
Patton nods, satisfied. He walks past the bathroom, momentarily wondering who could be in it, and pushes open the last door on the left. Both boys are stretched out on their respective beds. Patton smiles softly at the sight. It’s eight-thirty, according to the battered alarm clock by Victor’s head.
“Hey, Vicky. Wake up, kiddo.”
Victor’s eyes open at Patton’s soft yet firm voice. He searches around what he can see, and he slowly sits up.
“Coffee?”
Patton gives him a certain concerned look, and Victor amends his question.
“Breakfast and coffee?”
He nods. “Oswald is in the kitchen, fixing you a waffle, toast, and orange juice.”
“Right, Dad.”
Patton purses his lips and kisses the top of Victor’s head. The latter flushes and pulls on a shirt. Patton moves onto Arthur.
“Wakey, wakey, eco-warrior.”
The blonde blinks his eyes and sits up with a yawn. He grabs his day planner off the bedside table to look over the game plan he drew up yesterday.
“Music and breakfast downstairs, son.”
He nods. “Thanks, Pat.”
In the hall, Virgil stands behind Menlo in line for the bathroom. Virgil has gone through a skincare routine. He’s also added his preferred emo-style eyeshadow and liner, and he’s filled in his nails with another shade of black. Menlo has fallen asleep again, this time against the closed door. However, Roman swings the door open, and he acts quickly by catching his damsel in distress: a falling Menlo. Using the distraction to his advantage, Virgil slips past.
In the kitchen, there are more dishes in the sink. Victor accepts the waffle from Oswald, and the older boy gives him a look similar to yet more scathing than Patton’s. Either way, it causes Victor to grab a piece of toast and a cup of orange juice. He heads to the den, and Oswald turns to Roman.
“Eggs, marmite, and orange juice for Menlo. Pain au chocolat for Arthur. Dishes in the sink. Am I missing anything?”
“Has Patton eaten anything?”
“I don’t think so,” Oswald shakes his head. “You think scrambled eggs?”
“Better than just grabbing Coco Puffs after all the cooking he did for us.”
Oz nods and Roman washes a frying pan. While he can’t cook without potentially starting a fire, he can be useful by washing dishes. Oswald cracks two eggs and starts frying them. Arthur walks into the entryway and Roman hands off the special dish. It seems to do the trick because he grins and takes it to the lounge where the others are hanging out. Minutes later, Menlo walks down. He’s wearing his pajamas still, but he’s taken a shower. Roman hands him his plate, the bespectacled boy accepts it and walks into the lounge.
“I think we’re going to do alright together.” Roman comments to the room.
“I’d like to think so,” Oswald nods. “I’d hate to need to push someone down the stairs.”
Roman frowns at the blithe comment. “Right. Well, I need to get dressed.”
“Of course.”
The eggs are ready just as Patton returns to the kitchen. Oswald adds some salt and pepper, turning off the stove and placing the pan in the sink.
“Sit and eat.” He orders the older man.
Patton chuckles slightly. Oswald grabs the Trouble is Brewing mug and fills it with the last of the coffee. He serves it to Patton, who beams like a proud father.
“Thank you, kiddo. Looks delicious.”
At a quarter after nine, Menlo walks into the lounge ready as he’ll be. He’s wearing a long-sleeved blue Polo shirt, a denim jacket, jeans, and Hi-Tops. His backpack is full, and there’s a shiny silver star hanging from a necklace behind his burgundy necktie. Ed, Arthur, and Logan are already dressed as well. Ed has already completed an essay from the summer reading list; he’s wearing a cozy green sweater, jeans, and Nikes. He fiddles with his watch as Arthur and Logan teach him the basics of gin rummy.
Arthur glances over at Ed’s watch and mentally calculates when he’d need to leave so he won’t be late. He likes to be punctual and make a lasting impression. He’s wearing a rugby jersey, black pants, and red converse. His black bracelets cover his wrists. Logan adjusts his glasses and checks the time on his watch. He’s also done a summer reading essay, albeit for another class. He’s wearing an understated white t-shirt, jeans, and loafers.
“Hey, kiddos. Thanks for joining me here,” Patton bounds down the stairs wearing a baby blue Frosted Flakes t-shirt, khakis, and worn-out tennis shoes. “We need to go over schedules.”
Menlo sighs. “Alright. I need to get to my 9:40 class. Then I have another at 11:35, and my last class today is at 12:45. I get out at 2:50.”
Patton grins. “And which class do you have first?”
“Digital forensics.”
“You may go. I’ll see you later, little networking bee.” Menlo leaves with a short smile and Patton faces Ed. “What does your schedule look like?”
“Are you asking because you’re interested in our classes, or because you have an eidetic memory and wish to know where we are during the day?”
Patton tilts his head. “Both, I suppose. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my kiddos.”
“That answer is satisfactory. “I, too, have the 9:40 digital forensics class. I have social psychology at 11:15, and I have organic chemistry from 12:10 to 1:20.”
“Thank you, Ed. Stored and locked. I’ll see you later! Lolo?”
He sighs. “History at 9:40, Civilization at 11:35, and Leadership Skills from 12:45 to 2:50.”
Patton’s eyes brighten. “Who’s your teacher for Leadership?”
Logan balks. “Uh…”
“It is Alordayne Grotke?”
“I believe so.”
Patton lets out a little squeal. “We’re in the same class! I’ll see you then!”
Logan nods stiffly and struggles not to run out of the house. Arthur walks up.
“Hey, Pat. “I’ve got 9:40 history and 11:50 law. I’m going to the STU to find some clubs to join after.”
“Okay! See you later, Warrior!”
At nine-thirty, the house is noticeably quieter. Victor, Oswald, and Roman easily watch The Lion King in the lounge. Patton and Virgil sit in companionable silence, eyes glues on their laptops.
Menlo and Ed awkwardly walk into their digital forensics class and sit across from each other in the front row. Two seats down from Menlo, a boy is cleaning his glasses but has no school supplies with him. After roll call, there are no awkward ice breakers, much to Ed and Menlo’s relief. Instead, Professor Guerra asks that everyone pull out their copy of the syllabus. Simple.
In American Legal History, however, Arthur sits along the back row, and Logan sits upfront. An older boy wearing a trench coat and tie sits close to Logan and pulls out a binder covered in cat stickers. Another person with bright blue hair and a cat ear headband walks in with a large bag. They sit on Logan’s other side, a seat apart. They set their bag on the table and use it as a pillow. As the bell rings, two boys shuffle in. the first has brunette bedhead wearing a mustard yellow top, and the latter is a redhead with a unibrow wearing a gray shirt and a black ripped vest.
Professor Coulby claps her hands at the front of the class, speaking with sarcasm. “Now, as much as I’m sure you’ll love this next bit, I’m going to call the roll. When I get to your name, I ask that you stand up, give us a nickname you’d like to be called, tell us your grade level, major, and three little fun facts about yourself. I’ll start to give you an example.” She moves to the front of the classroom.
“My name is Tabris Coulby. You may call me Ms. Coulby or Tabby if you’d rather be informal. When I was a freshman, my major was science nutritional skills. I love to add Tabasco sauce to my food, I sew my clothes, and I’m learning to play the guitar.” She looks at the roll call sheet. “Bullock, Harvey.”
A man in his late twenties stands from the far-left side of the middle row. He’s wearing a long coat and a shirt underneath with a beer stain down the center. “Yeah, I’m Harvey. I’m a return junior; been away for six years. I’m majoring in criminal behavior. Let’s see… I grew up hunting with my Pops. I’m Irish-American, and I got a job as a bartender.”
“Thank you. Crane, Jonathan.”
A shaky eighteen-year-old stands from the back row, diagonal from Harvey. “My name’s Jonathan. You can call me Jonny. I’m a freshman, and I’m majoring in nursing. Um, I live on a farm. I’m bipolar, and I’m taking karate classes on campus.”
“You may be seated. Deeny, George.”
Another teenager stands, this one from the middle behind the young man in the trench coat upfront. “My name is George. I’m a freshman majoring in business. I’m not very social because half the campus is a real pain in the brass, but I like to watch reruns of The Lawrence Welk Show. It was taken off the air years ago because it had too much sax and violins. Oh, and I’m well prepared for my sex ed class because I’m already”
“Don’t!” Logan shouts, annoyed. “No more brass puns!”
George shrugs and sits. Quietly, he sneers at Logan. “If you don’t like it, that’s tubad.”
Logan facepalms. The professor blinks, suddenly realizing where that last pun was going. She shakes her head. “Okay… Dougherty, Thomas.”
A man around twenty-four or twenty-five stands at George’s right. “Name’s Tom. Senior, here for football. I like football, horror movies, and sex.”
“… right. Griswald, Gustav.”
A young blonde boy in blue-gray glasses and an army uniform stands at Harvey’s right. “Private Gustav Griswald. Informally known as Gus. I am a freshman, majoring in political science, Ma’am. I enjoy pickled beets, speak fluent German, and I own a pet snake named Herbert.”
“That was very factual. You may sit now, Private. Hennessey, Phoebe.”
A blonde girl with pigtails defying the laws of gravity stands from beside Gus, in the middle of the classroom. “I’m Phoebe, a freshman, majoring in physics. I’m impervious to nausea. I keep important things in my pockets, but I have a short temper, so back off.”
“Kai, Talyn.”
The blue-haired girl yawns and stands. “My name is Talyn. I’m nineteen, a freshman in my third semester. Majoring in astronomy. I use they/them pronouns. My favorite animal is an octopus, and I think it’s fun to play video games with the controller upside-down.”
“Do my ears deceive me?” A voice calls out upon opening the door. A teenager with a mustache walks in, carrying some strange green drink. “Octopus upside-down. Marry me!”
“Are you supposed to be in here?” Coulby asks.
“Of course! I am Remus Prince, drinker of swamp milk, and eater of deodorant sticks. Proud freshman and double major in cannabis cultivation and trauma scene decontamination.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask, Remus, but what are three facts you can tell us about you?”
“I work in a mortuary as an embalming assistant. I never fucking lie. And green is my color. And you bitches can call me Duke, and I’ll answer.” Seeing no available seats, he throws himself at Logan, stealing his glasses, and draping an arm over his shoulders. “Hey, baby.”
Logan freezes at the contact, and Coulby grabs his arm, pulling him off the desk. “Either find a chair in the hallway or sit on the floor, Mr. Prince.”
He nods, plops onto the floor, and takes out a stick of lavender-scented deodorant. He starts eating it, much to the disgust of his classmates.
“Okay, let’s keep going. Lentinus, William.”
A nineteen-year-old stands from the back-left corner, behind Harvey. “I’m Will, freshman, and I’m majoring in exercise science. I don’t trust spoiled rich kids, I’m in archery, and fuck it – I came here to find my ex.”
“That’s very romantic, Will.” Coulby nods. “Montoya, Renee.”
The girl who sits between Talyn and Logan stands. “I’m Renee, a sophomore, majoring in journalism. I’m a lesbian, I know how to fight with nunchakus, and I have a drinking problem.”
Coulby blinks. “Mundy, Conrad.”
The redhead from the back stands behind George. “You can call me by my last name. I’m a freshman, nineteen. Major’s in interactive entertainment. Means I’m gonna make video games. I like huckleberries video games, and dodgeball.”
“Pendragon, Arthur.”
He stands up at Mundy’s right. “I’m Arthur, sophomore, law major. I like ecology better, so it’s my minor. I like to go on hikes, and I have a horse back at home.”
“Okay. Four people left, and we still have ten minutes left of class. Pense, Logan.”
Logan stands up at the front and center. “My name’s Logan. This should be my last semester as a junior, and I’m a secondary education major. I enjoy Sherlock Holmes mysteries. My favorite flavors of Crofter’s jelly are pomegranate and blackberry. Also, if I were able to wield an element such as in the western animation Avatar: The Last Airbender, I would wield earth.”
“That was very well thought-out, Logan. Picani, Emile.”
The man to Logan’s right stands. “My name’s Emile. This is my first semester as a senior for my industrial psychology major. I also have a developmental psychology minor. As for my fun facts, I love cartoons. I constantly watch them and have a blog where I critique them. I live behind a graveyard, and I enjoy reading Grimm’s fairy tales.”
“Ryan… Nim-wuh?”
The last girl in class, sitting next to Emile, stands. “It’s pronounced ‘nim-oo-way.’ I’m a sophomore, majoring in intelligence studies. I believe magic is real.” She looks over at Logan. “I would be a water bender, and,” She glances at Will. “I have a deep-seated distrust in spoiled rich kids.”
“Thank you… Nimueh. Last name. Skeens, Gregory.”
The other boy in class, to Mundy’s left, stands. “Just call me by my last name. freshman, interactive entertainment. Rooming with Mundy. I can run fast, I can’t spell for shit, and I always got gum.”
“Well, I’m glad we’ve got such a diverse group of students. We’ll go over the syllabus and checklists on Wednesday. You’ll need your textbook by Friday for our first homework assignment. Class is dismissed for today.”
Logan packs up and heads downstairs for his world civilization class. It’s only 10:31, so the other class is still inside. He sits on a bench in the hall and whips out his cell phone, creating a chatroom.
- Logan has created the group Campus House
- Logan has added Lemonaide; Ed N; Pattoncake; Egg™; penguin; Princey; anxiousmess; Assdragon; JG; DragoonTheGreat; iguana to the chat
10:33 am
Logan
I don’t know if I can handle school this semester.
10:33 am
Pattoncake
Ru ok lolo? Uve only ben 2 one class
10:34 am
Logan
History was enough. Must you type in such a way that would anger the gods of grammar?
10:35 am
JG
Gods of grammar? Wtf u smokin?
10:35 am
Pattoncake
Language
What happened Lo?
10:37 am
Logan
Icebreaker game. Informal teacher. One guy made a brass pun in every damn sentence. An embalming assistant sat on me and stole my glasses. He then sat on the floor and ate deodorant. Fucking deodorant. And a girl made eye contact with me during her icebreaker. And we didn’t do anything remotely necessary.
10:37 am
Pattoncake
I want to reprimand you, but I’m letting it slide
I’m sorry kiddo
When’s your next class?
When’s everyone’s next class?
10:38 am
Logan
Civ starts at 11:35. I’m sitting in the hall.
10:38 am
JG
I’m in English w/ Roman & Os
Os has notifications off
10:39 am
Logan
How could you know?
10:39 am
Princey
He suggested we do b4 class
Sry bout Remus nerd
10:40 am
Logan
Have you dealt with the deodorant-eating miscreant before?
10:40 am
Pattoncake
Rude
10:40 am
Princey
True
You could say that. He’s my brother
10:41 am
Egg™
Boom! Who saw that shit coming?
10:41 am
Pattoncake
Language
Also, where ru?
10:42 am
Egg™
In gender & crime class rn
10:42 am
Lemonaide
Forensics let out early. Admin starts @ 11:35
10:42 am
Assdragon
Law starts @ 11:50. On way 2 rec center now
10:43 am
iguana
in mythology rn
10:43 am
Ed N
Psychology begins at 11:15. I’m going to Starbucks for a chai tea
10:43 am
DragoonTheGreat
Mythology w/ Randall
10:44 am
anxiousmess
My 1st class is art. Starts @ 11:15
10:44 am
Logan
Have you not left the house, Virgil?
Also, where are you, Patton?
10:45 am
anxiousness
Yeah. Eating toast
10:45 am
Pattoncake
I’m in a psych class
10:45 am
Logan
Don’t eat all my Crofter’s!
Patton focus on class.
10:46 am
Patton
My teacher wrote equations on board
Is on phone now
10:46 am
Logan
Wat
10:47 am
Patton
10:47 am
Logan
I Have. No. Words.
10:48 am
Egg™
I think u broke him.