paradoxlol | .011

I can't be the only person here with a wardrobe full of dry-clean only clothing. Considering the laundry room isn't exactly equipped to take care of it, what methods have the rest of you been using?

[Private to Mindy]
We're overdue for a meeting. Level 6 common room, after dinner. NOT OPTIONAL.

[Filtered to Hayley & Capa]
I want you to tell me everything you remember about port. [He figures he doesn't need to specify which port.] In person, preferably.

[Filtered to Miss Parker, added later]
You're on inventory, right? And congratulations, on graduating. I know it's belated.

[OOC: Like so many, Arthur's going to pretend the flood never happened. That's right, he's not even going to give a cursory "WELL THAT SUCKED." The only indication that he's pissy is the fact that, well, EVERYTHING'S TEXT BECAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU JERKS. Also, his hideous solicitation post is now retroactively encrypted-- well, Arthur-encrypted. He's probably decent, but not better than any of the tech types here.

ALSO. He's hanging out in the laundry room right now, sitting on a machine that he accidentally overloaded with all of his bedding ~~because it's unclean~~. Fun Fact: Arthur doesn't actually do his own laundry back home. SO HE IS IGNORANT and has been barely scraping by on the Barge. SO IF YOU WANT TO HANG OUT WITH HIM, SPAM AWAY.

And sorry for the crap post. I have awful writer's block today.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Narvin steps into the laundry room, holding the thoroughly shredded remains of the accountant suit to dump in the rag box. When he sees Arthur, a horrified expression crosses his face and his eyes dart to the door as he considers fleeing. But then he decides that fleeing is acknowledging that something happened, so he smooths his expression into something very consciously blank and with faux casualness he crosses the room to throw the rags in the box.]

[Arthur's trying to look completely dignified as he sits on one of the washing machines, keeping it in place as it rattles. There's a perfectly rational reason for this, of course: he threw all of his bedding into the washing machine, in a sort of symbolic strike against the previous flood, and although it all fit in there (barely), the machine seemed to think otherwise and began to violently rock from side to side. Now, it's more or less quelled, and Arthur's playing it casual, keeping his eyes on the communicator as he's scrolling through entries. At the sound of another person entering, he looks up quickly. But for a brief stare, he doesn't seem to acknowledge Narvin's presence as lowers his head to look at the communicator again.

Or, at least, that's what it looks like... except he's actually keeping his eyes on the other warden, as though he's expecting something terrible to happen. His entire body tenses, like he's poised to escape, but much like Narvin, he knows that running away would mean acknowledging the entire mess. So, he eventually pulls his eyes down to the communicator for real. Moments of silence pass. And then Arthur clears his throat.

And then he furrows his brow and scowls at the screen, as though it offended him.

Why did he have to go and break the blessed silence like that?]

[Narvin looks up sharply when Arthur clears his throat, expecting (fearing) that Arthur is about to say something about the weekend. He stares at Arthur for a few seconds, but when Arthur says nothing and keeps his eyes riveted to his communicator he returns to his task. Then he wonders if Arthur is expecting *him* to say something. Human social customs were difficult to interpret sometimes. He sighs.]

[Arthur looks up when he gets that nagging "Somebody's watching you" feeling, and he catches the tail-end Narvin staring. Shit. Stupid reflexive throat clearing. This just adds another level of awkwardness to everything. He glances away and rubs the back of his neck. He doesn't want to acknowledge this, he doesn't want to acknowledge this...]

Did you... [He's keeping his eyes firmly on his communicator. He doesn't even want to look at the suit the Time Lord's disposing of.] have any luck with your repairs?

[There. A nice, neutral, distracting question.]

Edited 2010-11-02 00:59 (UTC)

[Narvin tries to keep from jumping when Arthur does finally speak (and mostly succeeds). Fortunately, Arthur's question seems innocuous enough.]

Yes. Yes, my computer is up and running again.

[And...talking about his computer here and now inadvertently reminds him that Arthur had been in his cabin and saw that broken computer with the back panel pried off and wires strewn every which where. He quickly tries to change the subject.]

And you? Any luck finding dry cleaning?

[Arthur nods. He's not all that good at small talk, but this seems... safe, at least.]

Yeah. [He leaves it at that for a moment, then adds:] Once I sorted through the incredulous questions about why a man needs dry cleaning. [Small talk accomplished, and nothing about the other night was raised. He'd consider it a small success... if his communicator didn't just beep with a new message. He looks down at it, then makes a terribly unamused face. The Master, Narvin's inmate, with a pointed comment about... cleaning up. GREAT.]

[Narvin is reassured that they are both apparently in agreement that It Didn't Happen and therefore does not need to be talked about. He has gotten rid of the offensive clothes, successfully had a perfectly normal and innocuous conversation, and he has concluded that Arthur would like to forget the whole business just as much as Narvin would. So when Arthur is distracted by his communicator again, Narvin takes it as a cue to leave.]

Well...good day to you. [He gives Arthur a brisk nod and heads for the door.]

[Arthur gives a distracted:] Uh huh. [And types out another grouchy response to the Master. He's scowling again as he lets out a terse:] Goodbye.

Edited 2010-11-02 03:27 (UTC)

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