And the world turns [Zaeric]

[Tate Desmarais]

As dorms went, she supposed it wasn't bad. At first she'd been scared--okay, terrified--that she would end up in an all-girl's dorm, full of skirt-wearing, hair-tossing queen bees. She'd had quite enough of being thrown into the deep end of a pool she had no desire to swim in in the public school system; now that she'd been forcibly fitted into a private school (for freaks, she added mentally, although she'd never really had a problem with meta-humans until learning she was one) she didn't need anything else making her adjustment harder than it needed to be. Tate had come prepared to argue for her transfer to a co-ed dorm, or hell, she would have even accepted a boy's dorm instead--she just couldn't be in with girls. They teased. They were catty. And if you hinted that you weren't normal, they could be cruel.

So she'd been pleasantly surprised to find she'd already been placed in a co-ed dorm; maybe her parents had mentioned it when she had been off crying? In the end, not questioning it was probably for the best, and she'd wheeled her suitcase to the door that had her name on it. It'd taken her the greater part of the two weeks she'd been there to get the room set up exactly as she wanted it, the entire time spent largely shoving furniture around. Those on a lower floor could simply deal with it, she'd thought today as she unpacked the last of the boxes from home--no one had given her time to pack.

But she'd finished, finally, and it looked… more familiar, even if it wasn't exactly like her room at home. Some of the things were sent from home--the BBC Sherlock poster on the wall, the movie release poster from the 2009 movie--and other things she'd used the card from her parents to pick up on an escorted trip to town.

It looked… okay.

She had avoided her roommates pretty well during the process of moving in, even during her first week of classes. Tate had managed to scoot around gatherings in the common room to reorganize her living space again. It was a good job, too, comparatively. Unfortunately, she knew her luck had to run out eventually--just hopefully not today. She toed the floor rug properly into place, hands linked behind her back, and gave the room another once-over before putting her watch back on. Maybe she'd even go out on purpose and introduce herself beyond a hurried (and dismissive) nod?

Tate shuddered to herself and hooked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear, then opened her door. Finding another person there was a little bit surprising, and her eyebrows promptly vanished under the fridge of her bangs they rose so fast. "Um… Hello," she said, holding up one hand in a very pathetic excuse for a wave. "How are you?" Might as well get this started now, right?

[Zaeric Blackwood]

In the few years Zaer had been at Hammel he had always been in the same dorm. Always. He hadn't always had the same dorm mates, and was pretty used to having people moving in and out all the time, or going on extended leave or any number of crazy things. In the past maybe two weeks another new person had shown up. He couldn't remember her name at the moment, but he knew sooner or later he would remember. He usually did. One of the first things Zaer noticed was that she had rearranged some of the furniture in the main room a bit. He didn't care because the room needed a change anyway, but he didn't know how Andi and Jean would take it. Eh, Andi didn't spend all that much time in the dorm anyway it seemed, so he didn't think it would matter.

The boy was sitting there with one of his poetry books, flipping through some of his old work. He really loved a few of the older poems, but thought some of his other things needed rewriting. He had been thinking about it but couldn't make himself rewrite anything. It was all so much a part of him that he just couldn't. With a sigh he shut the book. He turned, letting his feet hang over the back of the chair and his head hand over the seat, almost touching the floor because he was so darn tall. The boy closed his eyes and just listened to his head buzz as blood rushed around. Even though it seemed crazy this was one of the times he thought the clearest, when doing silly things like this.

When the voice of his elusive new room mate sounded over his thoughts the boys eyes snapped open and a silly grin spread over his face. The girl he was tall, maybe even as tall as he was, and very boyish looking. Her hair was short, and she seemed...abnormally thin. Her wave was sort of shy, as if she didn't really want to put herself in a situation where she had to speak. Which didn't really make sense since she was standing there talking. Of course, Zaer as sitting upside down in a ridiculous way that made it look like he was a long thin piece of dark ribbon stretched out awkwardly over the chair.

" Heya there." He replied to her hello. " I'm doing pretty well. Just sort of chillin here, upside down." Chilling was an understatement since right now his skin felt like ice, but that was of course only natural since he was a cryokinetic. Besides, the room felt right to him. He wondered if it felt cold to her. He hadn't messed with the thermostat recently since he knew some people would freak out if he did.

[Tate Desmarais]

She flicked a glance around the room, looking for anything that she could talk about besides the tired old Hi! I'm new. I'm terrified to be here and I don't understand what's going on. Can you explain it to me? that she'd been running through her mind for the past two weeks. Not only would it be just embarrassing to say something like that, it would also be completely pathetic. So what was there to talk about?

Couch. Armchair. Roommate sitting upside down. Chilling. Okay, that was an interesting choice of words that she might pursue. Books on the wall. Television over there… um…

Well.

She was turning up next to nothing, and she gave him a bit of a helpless look. The book in her arms was shifted a bit in the manner of someone adjusting their armor, and she tugged on her collar the moment after. As if that would hide the blush crawling up her neck! good job, Desmarais, keep that right up, it's so. very. flattering! "That's good," she said, uncomfortably. "I'm glad you're… chilling." There. That wasn't too uncomfortable, right? Or awkward?

Who was she kidding, that was mindblowingly awkward. She bit her lip and shrugged as if the fit of her shirt was bothering her--odd, because the shirt didn't look too big. Or too small. The dark green eyes lit on a book of poetry that looked like it'd been just abandoned, and she smiled just a little bit at it. Thank you for finally noticing the elephant in the room, Desmarais, she thought, and then aloud she said, "Do you like Nemerov? The poet, I mean. Only he's not very much like--" and she nodded at the book her roommate had been reading. "But he's very good. I like him. He has this one called Writing, it's--"

Tate paused, her expression turning perplexed. Where had she heard of that poem? It had to have been recent and she knew she knew the poem. The small bones of the wrist balance against the great skeletons of the stars exactly. She gave a tiny shrug and tried to return the upside-down boy's large and goofy smile. "Well it's very good. Like his poetry. And I guess this is where I stop talking, so you can say if you like him or not. It's okay if you don't. I understand. Really--"

And then she shut her mouth with an audible click, and tucked A Study in Scarlet tight against her chest like that would stop him from realizing what an unforgivable dullard she was.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

She seemed reasonably frazzled. Well, she was new and he remebered that new person feeling all too well. Her terrifled glances flicked around the room and she didn't seem to want to be there. She responded that she was glad he was chilling, as if she was unsure about what she was saying. He felt a little bad that she had caught him in one of hs poetry moods. He usually only sat upside down like this when eh was in the mood to write poetry. It was his strange way of getting thoughts to cooperate. A small sigh escaped is grinning lips. Zaeric st the book down for a moment as he flipped himself over to sit upright.

" Nemerov? I've heard of him. I think I have a collection of his poetry. And I know the poem you're talking about! "at the pen’s point or brush’s tip, do world and spirit wed" Right. That's my favorite line of that poem because it's so true." He picked up his book again.

" My styls not much like his really. He was a traditionalist and I write in sort of free verse...or however I feel like it really. I don't follow any specific structure of style of poetry writing." She had continued on for so long, and was obviously nervous. Zaer didn't want her to be nervous since she had to be around him. They were roomamtes after all. In fact he hope to get to know her better because he like getting to know people.

" Anyway. So I'm guessing you really like poetry? Or maybe just the one poet?" If she like poetry he could show her his poetry collection. If the boys bookscase wasn't just filled with volumes of poetry then he would never be happy. So there was the fact that he always had some kind of poetry book.