fandomtownies | The causeway [before classes, Tuesday morning]

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The causeway [before classes, Tuesday morning]

The series of portals Anakin had managed to set up on short notice weren't the most direct way to get to District Thirteen, but they were the fastest. Anakin had checked four times to confirm when he realized they had a stopover in the Triassic era...

Now, as the sun peeked up over one of the allegedly happiest places on Earth (Anakin had other opinions on that), he waited for the rest of his fellow travelers to arrive while he left Tahiri a voicemail asking her to cover classes for him.

[OOC: For those heading to Katniss plot!]

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Oh, there was fidgeting. Lots of fidgeting from the guy with the claws and the really, really rough looking wings. Warren hung back for a few minutes, just eyeing the back of Wesley's head while he tried to nerve himself up to approaching him.

"I think I really, really owe you an apology."

He hadn't been in his right mind when he'd attacked him on Saturday, but that didn't mean he remembered it any less vividly.

Wesley? Had not recognized the winged monster thing, although now he was rapidly putting it together.

"You..." he began inquisitively. Then he took in Warren's tattered wings, then the claws, and that was all it took. "Oh! Oh, it's no matter. I didn't realize -- ah -- that is to say -- I suppose I owe you an apology as well, then. Are you, er, healing all right?"

Yeah, sleepy brains at sunrise were for other people.

"Healed," Warren replied, with a twitch that was mostly just a shadow of his usual wry smile. "I don't usually stay hurt for very long... You're okay, then?"

He'd done some pretty serious damage, was the thing. Okay, sure, Wesley had severed Warren's spine and all, but Warren had gotten better.

"Oh. Yes, yes, quite." Wesley gave Warren a little nod for emphasis. "I -- I mean to say, I never realized that that was, ah... you."

He wasn't positive if it would have made a difference, but he figured it was worth mentioning.

"For what it's worth, it didn't really feel much like me, either." Warren bit his lip, then shrugged. Wesley didn't seem to be holding a grudge or anything. He wasn't certain what he'd been expecting, but this was definitely a relief. "By the end of it, there wasn't really much left."

This did not make him feel much better, no.

"I'm thankful that you managed to take me down, though. Even if I didn't stay down for very long, that was a few minutes that I wasn't terrorizing somebody else."

Congratulations, Warren -- you'd actually managed to get a smile of Mr. Seriousface. "Oh," he said, waving a hand. "Don't mention it. Really."

Aaaand now he was blushing. Real warrior-like, Wes.

"So you're, ah, all recovered, then?"

"Mostly," Warren replied, glancing back at his wings. They were... kind of embarrassing at the moment, all pink and pinfeathers. He felt a bit like a baby bird, or a large porcupine. And for the time being, that was a bigger deal than the fact that the claws hadn't receded in the least. Give it a few days. He'd start to be weirded out by that. "The worst of it was gone by yesterday evening. It's mostly just been a matter of trying to sleep it off, since."

That was going into a notebook later, but for right now, Wesley was nodding like a regular person who learned something horrifying, not an intrigued demon specialist.

"I see," he said thoughtfully. And he gave the feathery wings a once-over, because he couldn't hide all his interest. He didn't mention the fact that he doubted they'd really have much time for sleeping it off in Panem, though he was thinking it. "I suppose the call time on this excursion was less than conducive to sleeping. And then there's the issue of how portals account for changes in time zone..."

Riiiight.

"And the travel time," Warren offered, smiling faintly. "Portalocity always manages to find the most roundabout routes when you book them on no notice, it seems."

He wasn't complaining, no. Maybe some really weird pit-stops would help him wake up, too.

"Truly," Wesley agreed emphatically. "I went to Los Angeles several weeks ago and I had to go through Belize. Twice."

Which had actually interested him. There was a pattern here, Warren: Wesley tended to geek out about everything. "Perhaps we'll be fortunate this time?" he proposed.

...Doubtful.

"A quick jaunt through Africa to see the zebras and hyenas in their natural habitat, you mean?"

Hey, somebody had to dream the dream, here.

And that actually got a laugh out of him! Wesley felt a bit guilty, laughing when he was about to embark on a Very Serious Mission, but he hadn't thought about their little savannah talk in a long time. That day at the zoo, the idea that Katniss could have to go through a Quell and then a war had been nowhere near his mind.

"Precisely," he laughed. "That ballet studio they were building should be coming along nicely by now."

Had it been a ballet studio? Or maybe it was jazz...

For all Warren knew, it could have been tap, and co-taught by ostriches. It had been a long weekend, he wasn't going to split hairs.

"And the fire hall," he offered. He would have felt guilty too, but he was beginning to pick up Bobby's flair for banter in stressful situations, and getting a laugh out of Wesley in the face of whatever it was they were about to walk into was a little victory all on its own. "You can't have a proper settlement without a fire hall, after all."

... Was there a fire hall on Fandom island?

"Of course," Wesley laughed. It was surprisingly easy to fall into the pattern of bantering, now that he'd started, though he'd surely wipe it off his face guiltily once he arrived in Panem. "I suppose they might build it in such a way as to minimize the poles and such, though," he proposed. "Being four-legged and all."

Warren waved a dismissive hand. Briefly. He put it back to his side somewhat stiffly when he remembered the claws, there.

"I don't think that's such a big deal. If dalmations can do it, I'm sure hyenas can, too."

That was true.

"They are very resourceful creatures," Wes agreed. "I'm certain they'd work something out. Perhaps some sort of wheelchair ramp, if anything."

"Or elevators?"

Hyena elevators.

"But then, I hear you're supposed to avoid elevators in case of a fire, so that's probably not the greatest suggestion I've made lately, either."

"I'm sure the hyenas would engineer elevators that were fire-retardent," Wesley said encouragingly. "They're very sophisticated. And, of course, technologically gifted."

Keeping a straight face was now becoming an issue. Warren had totally turned his day around!

Warren was going to have to thank Bobby for passing on his amazing repression skills. This was helping his day immensely, too.

"Well, of course. Everyone knows the only reason they don't build spaceships is because there aren't any hamburgers in space."

Because hyenas now ate hamburgers.

Wesley never missed a beat. "Of course," he said smoothly. "Of course, the, ah..." What was an animal they hadn't used yet? "Leopards have been starting setting up a number of butcher shops there, but then there's the matter of importing the produce, and as everyone knows, hyenas simply cannot exist without onions and tomatoes."

AS EVERYONE KNOWS.

IT IS WRITTEN.

"And the rehydrated onions just aren't the same," Warren added with a heartfelt sigh and a sad, slow shake of his head. "I suppose it's for the best, though. We need their brilliance here on Earth."

He'd almost went on to talk about how they didn't want hostile space aliens to snap up all of Earth's greatest minds, but he was already dealing with enough issues that centred around twisted xenothropic species.

That was for the best. Wesley wasn't quite up on that whole drama anyway. Lately he'd been fairly single-minded with his drama.

"Naturally. Onions are crucial to developments in nanotechnology."

God, Wes really had to wipe that smile off his face at least before the portal stopped in Triassic-ville. Walking into Katniss' infirmary looking like that would leave him with some 'splaining to do.

One thing that could be said for Wesley's grin, at least, was that it was contagious. Warren ducked his head a little as an actual smile wormed its way onto his face, too.

"And tomatoes have been single-handedly responsible for massive strides in bio-molecular genetic research. Modern pharmacists can't possibly begin to make such progress."

And if that was secretly a well-veiled knock at the decade that his father had spent pouring so many of the Worthington resources into searching out a cure for mutancy, he would never tell.

Fortunately, it went right over Wes' head anyway. The mutancy part, that is.

"Really, it's best that we keep as many of them on Earth as possible," Wesley concluded. "Plus, where would squash and cucumbers be without natural predators?"

Well, the answer to that one was easy enough.

"Everywhere?"

The causeway [before classes, Tuesday morning]

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