solo_sword | Room 313, Saturday morning

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Room 313, Saturday morning

Jaina woke up with powdered sugar all over her and a sudden wish for amnesia. ...A gremlin killing spree would probably be frowned upon, right?

She finally made herself get out of bed, take a really really hot shower to get rid of the powdered sugar and to try to feel clean after singing inappropriately dirty songs to inappropriate people, frowned at the plant that seemed to be hanging from her doorways, and debated just getting back into bed.

And ow her chest hurt.

[Door closed, post open, though I'm afk for a lot of the day so yay SP!]

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"Please don't call it that," she said. "I think I just, you know, bruised the bone."

"What should I call it?" he wondered. "Did you need some ice for it?"

Jaina almost looked amused. "I'm not putting ice on my chest," she told him. "I'm fine, just annoyed with it. And gremlins. And Celine Dion's lyrics."

"You were very free with the giving of love last night," John said. "Seemed your heart was going on for everyone who walked by."

"Yeah. Gavin, Tahiri, Ben..." This was why she needed hot showers.

"Let me know if I need to get out there and stake a claim or something," John said, snickering a little. "Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

"At least mine didn't include coconut oil." Yes, this was her defense.

"Suntan lotion," he corrected. "And you had powdered sugar."

"That was not my fault, that was Fandom being weird all on its own," she protested. "I had to wash my hair like three times."

"It added a definite sugary twist to your performance," he replied.

"Why do I always end up singing?" she wondered.

"Your gremlins like music?" he tried, realizing his had no clear pattern.

"They have really bad taste," she decided, frowning.

"Hey, could've been worse," John pointed out.

"How?" Stupid question, Jaina.

"Are you sure you want to know?" John asked, eyes widening.

Jaina made a face. "Yes." Her chest hurt, she wanted to know how much worse it could be.

"Well, you could have been in a hair band and really screwed up your neck or set yourself on fire with pyrotechnics," he offered. "There's also that death metal with all the facial piercings and who knows how much of that would stay with you."

Jaina stared at him, mostly unsure of what the hell he was talking about, and that gave way to giggles. There was no other response to that.

"Yup," John said, sipping his own tea and wondering why he hadn't gotten coffee. It wasn't like his throat was sore.

"Would you still love me if I was a... death metal person with facial piercings?" she asked, mock-seriously.

John laughed, "Of course. Even if I had to tilt my head extra to avoid being stabbed while I kissed you." He was so caring.

"And I'd promise not to stab you on purpose," she agreed.

"I'd probably have to get some sort of matching piercing just to make things even," he said.

"We'd both end up in the clinic," Jaina decided. "It'd all go badly."

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