Haunted House College AU

[worthallthis]

While the army is covering tuition, it doesn't cover living expenses, and temporary work on-campus is better than temporary work off-campus. So when the drama department managed to raise funds for a haunted house in one of the frat houses, James put on his best "I can kill you with my pinky" look, a shabby suit (shabby is really all he has, so, lucky), and his growing out hair loose around his face and "interviewed" for a spot as in-character for a creepy fucky as possible.

He had to refuse the first offer to be one of the ghosts inside. Dropping the character and donning a slightly sheepish smile, "Really not that keen on jumping out an' scaring people. Especially the ones that get punchy when they're scared." When the interviewer looked at his resume, saw his army tour (the whole "captured and tortured" thing isn't on there, but it doesn't have to be), she just nodded and stuck him at introductions and taking tickets. The pay isn't great, but it'll cover meals for a while.

So he shows up for opening night, gets his face done all pale with stage-make up and his suit a little spruced up with a very fancy shirt underneath from the costume department, and takes in the faces of the other people who'd been brought on.

Comments

[shadowsran]

It isn't as though she has one booked, herself - but it stands to reason she could, conceivably, by graduation. Illustration of how the wind may carry her is all.

Grinning and shrugging off that too-familiar sentiment, she huffs thought. "Natural resources and conservation, arts, maybe culinary." Broad strokes. There's a great deal she likes, and keeping eggs in all of those baskets while keeping a hold on that scholarship has been a convoluted, hilarious ride. More weird classes than she thought possible. "There's a lot to like, you know? I don't know how anybody picks anything. 'Useless major' jokes are one per person, by the way, so be careful before you blow your one freebie."

[worthallthis]

"Hey, no judgment here," he says, holding up a hand. The metal one has the glove on it again, and the simple motion of holding a hand up doesn't make any mechanical noises. It's only when he's actually exerting himself that it makes itself more obvious. "Conservation is a great career path. And if I thought I could cook worth a damn, I'd love a culinary degree." He subsists on a lot of simple, by-the-box meals, fast food (the gazillion calories in those are perfect), and frozen pizzas. And lots of sandwiches. "I didn't even know they had those. But everybody's gotta eat, right?"

[shadowsran]

That's not what she'd braced herself for, so a little tension visibly seeps out of her shoulders. The silence is noted, but without comment. Hardly her business.

"A lot of culinary courses are learning, y'know? I think there's a line there - you have stuff learning about how you make food, just in general and like, the science to it, and then they've got at least a couple classes for trying to turn that into restaurant-stuff. You pick a lot up, and since most people our age live out of the mess hall it looks pretty impressive." Some still cling to old habits, but many are hitting just such an age where they do appreciate the occasional real, actual meal from a kitchen.

"That's the fun in biding your time! You see a lot of weird niche things. Tons to pick up. Anything fun for a minor, or just hammering away at your main stuff?"

[worthallthis]

"Hadn't planned on one. Army's paying my tuition, and I'm not sure they'd keep covering if I took extra time for a minor," he admits. "Maybe if I found something where the classes overlapped a little." Math, maybe, though that sounds pretty ridiculous-- math majors are mostly genius kids and statistics nerds.

[shadowsran]

"Or even just some extras, when you have free time? I keep a list, actually, I'll nudge it at you sometime. Stuff that isn't for academics, just volunteer, or extra credits if you do art courses. No degree or anything for it, but it's fun on the side." It gets her a lot of networking, and a lot of varied experiences. A good time. "I'd go nuts with all those numbers on my plate and nothing to break it up a little, no idea how you do it."

[worthallthis]

He laughs a little, to hide the pang. Art courses. Fuck. Definitely not going there. "Misty. I am not an artist. Not at all." He hesitates, then, against his better judgment, says, "But if you find me a cooking class I can fit into my schedule. I'll think about it."

Everybody needs to eat, after all.

[shadowsran]

"I don't mean just like, oil-and-canvas art, y'know!" She laughs along with him, waving a hand. "Arts. Multiple. Digital design, music, theater, the classic hands-on stuff, it's a big umbrella." And a fascinating one, she would like to stress. Fun.

"Careful, because I'm gonna find one. You'll be locked in, at that point. Couldn't go and make a stranger go to the trouble for nothin'."

[worthallthis]

Not even a single bit of that sounds like something he'd want to really spend a lot of time on. (Maybe musical. Maybe. But he doubts his metal hand is capable of the kind of fine control needed for a guitar, and he's never been that great at singing. And as he recalls from high school, choir and band things require extra money for supplies and field trips and shit, anyway.)

But cooking classes. That he can probably manage. "Not sure what you're getting out of this scenario, but I'll be getting food," he chuckles at her.

[shadowsran]

"Helping somebody nice learn something fun and new, get him away from what I figure must be some nightmarish homework when I can." Her elbow nudges his companionably before she races forward - they've reached the promised convenience store, and she's pleased to repay a door-holding when the opportunity presents itself. "And more people should pick cooking up, anyway."

[worthallthis]

James rolls his eyes, but doesn't otherwise protest her getting the door. Free food is worth the occasional one-upmanship. Besides, it's cute how she grins at her success. "Not sure where you get 'nice'. But hey, I'm not gonna complain."

Christ, this is the kid who pretended to be dead a couple hours ago. He really shouldn't still be here, hanging out with her. Maybe he's just that starved for company he doesn't have to do homework for, or say "have a nice day" to. And it's not like she doesn't seem to be happy to chat.

So he heads in, and beelines for the slushie machine. "Sweet. They have cherry."

[shadowsran]

"You're still talking to me, you hold doors open, you make good conversation - you're nice. Don't go fighting it, then it just makes you look humble." He's personable, at the very least. Got a very natural likability about him. Some could well be owed to her willingness to engage, but plenty of people just rebuff.

Following leisurely, she commandeers a cup and starts in.

"True connoisseurs go for blue, but I can respect that."

[worthallthis]

"Yeah, and I absolutely cussed you out earlier this evening. You must take that better than most people." James actually has better self-esteem than most of his iterations; something about not spending seventy years as a slave. Not great, maybe, but a lot better. So "humble" is only sort of a thing.

"Do I look like true connoisseur to you?" he asks, filling his own monster-sized cup. Cherry, dammit. "I am a heathen in all things, and happy to be."

[shadowsran]

"I deserved it, and believe me, I've dealt with meaner." One isn't ejected from their home without previous altercations aplenty, after all.

Opting for a sophisticated and careful blend of blue, purple, and lime green, she sets about acquiring it. Careful, overlapping layers, a 3:2:1 ratio so deliberately poured it would be a lengthy process for anyone without practice. Aesthetically pleasing, delicious. Classy. "It's good to know you're so easy to please, a beginner cooking course is gonna blow your mind."

A Kit Kat is carefully selected from a nearby wire rack. Healthy choices only in this store. Halloween spirit, or...something.

[worthallthis]

Since the ice drink was what she'd promised, James doesn't consider the candy much. He's just excited enough about the drink, to be honest, this is good shit. He might actually not be hungry for a while, between that and the beer and pizza.

"Well, okay, I'll give you that. So have I." Dealt with meaner people, that is. He trails after her to the register, putting the cap on his drink and stabbing through it with the straw.

[shadowsran]

"Exactly. Better to try and mend the bridge a little, shake off anything that rattles me, have a nice walk home." Nothing to scan but the candy, and a few taps of register keys later it's only trading off a five for change. Steep, but such is indulgence. It's all held in one hand, and she pauses upon exiting the building to appreciate the air. Autumn. So good.

"'Meaner' an army thing, or just come up in a rough area?"

[worthallthis]

In answer, busily sucking up slushie, he holds up the metal hand and lets a few gears whir noisily. So... not exactly an army thing, but the whole "captured behind enemy lines and tortured" thing sucked pretty bad. Those were some real assholes.

He speaks after a moment, to add, "Army was mostly pretty good guys. And gals."

[shadowsran]

She hums at that, expression flickering to something much more unamused. Concerned. There's no happy story behind that, couldn't have been even before this all but confirms it.

"I'm sorry, about that. Whatever it is. Was. I'm not pressing for a story, I mean, I just--" She's far from the type to trip over themselves to appreciate the troops, but he's clearly seen something ugly, and that she can appreciate. Respect. Mourn, a little, in a broad empathetic sense. "Glad you're home now, I guess? Safer."

[worthallthis]

He doesn't get as much of that as he could, given he doesn't talk about the whole army, POW, arm thing... and he hides the arm. He's pretty lucky he even got out and the doctors here didn't keep him locked up, to be honest, and he's pretty sure there only a couple people from his former unit that he has to thank for that.

So in the face of it, he's torn between awkward and solemn. "Yeah," he finally says, "Me, too." Then, a pause, and he adds, "I couldn't tell you most of it, anyway. It's all classified and shit."

[shadowsran]

"Which is fine! No burning curiosity here, just, um, sentiment in passing. Moving on, back to the parts where you're the maniac going just-cherry." A grin, only a little forced. Prompting, hopefully. Steer them to calmer waters for the remainder of the walk. "I'll be crossing my fingers a cooking course will help you refine that palate."

[worthallthis]

"What's wrong with cherry? It's my favorite." And as he's passed by that convenience store a couple times, and splurged once, he's getting his damn favorite flavor, and a lot of it.

[shadowsran]

"It needs to be cut with something at least!" A laugh betrays how non-serious this debate is. "It's so tart on its own, I can't imagine getting through that much at once! You can't chase cherry with anything."

[worthallthis]

"They put enough sugar in any flavor of these that it tastes sweet to me," James says with a grin, and pointedly slurps up more of it. "Besides, I did say I'd eat pretty much anything."

[shadowsran]

"I guess I like that in people, but I'll keep my fingers crossed classes do you good." Unlikely, but hey, it's all she has to rib him with. "My entrance is the next one up ahead, do you want me to run one of my course lists down or just keep it on hand for - whenever I see you next? Getting late, I wouldn't want to keep you."

[worthallthis]

"There's still two more nights of haunted house, so if you're on both nights, you'll see me," he promises. "I'm still getting paid for this shit. I need that money for more food." He mock-salutes her with his cup.

[shadowsran]

"Good! I'll see you then, then. Gives me time to narrow it down into something neat. Get home safe, we need talented new blood to stick around!"

This is punctuated with a little bow as she reaches the door, and the calculated polite amount of watching after him as he continues on.

No calling it good, that would be presumptuous. But maybe a night pulled out of the red.