fandomhigh | (no subject)

[ooc: Dude, I totally read that as "reffer" at first. I was like what?. And then glue sticks? Oooohhh...glow sticks! So that must be rave! *feels like a dork* :p]

Victor sat at a table in the corner, facing away from the rest of the cafeteria, and brooded. He was begining to get extremelyfrustrated with himself. Every week he attended classes and hung out with Walter...and not much else. He hadn't really thought about it until he had been laying on his bed last night, bored out of his mind, and he had heard the radio broadcast. Once again, while it seemed everyone else was getting into hijinks and having a lot of fun and making headlines, he was mentioned almost as an afterthought. He scoffed at the irony of it: when he had first arrived, he'd intended to just stay out of everyone's way and try to get a decent education. Now, he was all emo because he didn't feel popular enough.

He needed to do something big. Something that'd cement his place at Fandom.

But what?

Walter came in, not in a good mood at all. and scowled at the spaghetti on the menu.

That was not a good joke, dammit. Not even a little.

However, he had a takeaway box from Cafe Fina and didn't have to take anything the Chef was offering, so he settled for a glass of water and some utensils before sitting down next to Victor, who appeared to have a good brood going on.

"Hey," Victor said, brightening a little. "How are you?"

"Shooting spaghetti from my fingertips, apparently," Walter said with a grimace.

He opened the box from Cafe Fina and began picking the grilled chicken out of the caesar salad inside.

"And I'd be lying if I said it wasn't winding me up."

Victor simply shook his head and sighed. "Fandom strikes again. Show me what you're talking about."

Walter sighed and took the rings off of one hand. "It started last night." He flicked his fingers the way he would to use his wires and streams of spaghetti flew out of his fingertips.

He obviously didn't have much control over the spaghetti, as it splattered against the window and started to slide to the floor in a sticky, pasta-y mess.

"See?" he asked as put his rings back on before he got up to clean up after himself.

Victor tried to hold back a giggle, and did a pretty good job of it. "Wow, that sucks. Well, at least you'll never go hungry. Does the other hand spray spaghetti sauce?"

"You wouldn't think it was funny if you'd seen what happened to the can of spray starch I was trying to grab with my wires when this all started." Walter scowled at his traitor hands. "The spaghetti completely mucks up my control."

"I'm sorry, hon," Victor replied, sobering and rubbing Walter's shoulder. "Maybe this'll be like what happened to Anders and Cally, and will go away in a day or two. Until then, maybe you should stay over at my room. That way you don't have to worry about any high shelves or anything."

"Thanks." Walter went back to stabbing his salad like it was responsible for his spaghetti problems. "From what I heard on the radio, I'm not the only one with odd things going on, but it's hard to tell from what Lilly was saying. Do you know anything?"

"I heard the radio, too. I just figured that it was the usual stuff that goes on around here." He took a sip of Green Apple Jones Soda, then gave his boyfriend a lopsided smile. "But hey, it could be worse. You could be barking like a dog or something."

"Yes, it is fine as long as I do not try to do something that is second nature to me." Walter grumbled and stabbed some more chicken.

"You are right. It could be worse. And I have a pair of wire gloves I can try. How are you? You were not looking happy when I got here."