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The Magic Box, Wednesday

When Elsa came into the Magic Box today, she was met, face-to-face, with a smiling pumpkin with a funny moustache. She still wasn't terribly certain if she liked them or not, especially since the way she had stacked them the other week had left her thinking of snowmen, and, in turn, brought her right back to how mortified she was that she had run out of class yesterday. But there was work to be done, and she was busying herself with unpacking another box of merchandise.

Her supplier sent entirely too much bloodstone polish this time around, and she frowned a little, looking at the selection. Considering there was only one person that she knew of on the island who spent any amount of time actually polishing bloodstones, that would almost certainly be enough to last Cecil until his graduation. And then possibly for a few years after the fact, assuming he cleared them out of stock before he left.

She put a few containers of it onto the shelf, and then opened the next box, which had her staring inside and blinking while she tried to puzzle out what she was looking at. What use could anybody possibly have for plastic, skeletal flamingos? Certainly no magical one that she could discern. Which meant that Elsa was shrugging her shoulders and pulling them out of their packaging to arrange around the shop.

The merchandise was still there and was still visible around all of the Hallow'een decor, so what would some plastic birds hurt, right?

[Open!]

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Barry walked into Magic Box fuming and letting off a stream of curse words under his breath.

And while that's typically normal for Barry, his clothes being completely soaked with ice water provides an additional reason.

"Hey," he grunted. "Got a fucking towel back there?"

"Not one that falls immediately to hand," Elsa replied, giving Barry a once-over, and then, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, reaching for some of the blank newsprint that a few of their fragile shipments came padded in. "See what you can manage with this while I hunt down some paper towels and put on some hot water for tea."

She wasn't even going to question why he was soaked. The island seemed hell-bent on it this week, though she'd managed to avoid being doused herself.

"Should have gotten a fucking poncho," Barry said with a sigh and a slight shiver as he tried to blot himself. "Have you gotten nailed by this at all?"

"Me? Not yet, no, though I'm certain at some point or another it'll happen anyway, and then I'll be as sopping wet as the rest of you." Elsa scrounged around behind the counter for a minute, and then surfaced with a roll of brown paper towels. "I imagine the longer it goes on, the more paranoid I'll be, waiting for it."

She slid the paper towels his way.

"Thanks," Barry said taking the towels and attempting to dry himself off some more. He gave up on his clothes after a moment and then just focused on his hair and skin. "This would make fucking number five for me this week. Clearly this island loves you if you've stayed dry."

"Or maybe it just doesn't think the reaction would be quite as amusing," Elsa noted, plugging in the electric kettle, next. "I've noticed the ice cubes scattered across the street wherever there's a puddle and a track of wet footprints. Mostly, I'd just be annoyed at getting wet."

The cold didn't bother her, anyway.

Well of course it wouldn't bother her. Damn you and your cold based powers, Elsa!

"Well at least I would be amused," Barry teased. "So clearly the island has something against me."

And probably with good reason.

"You, in particular," Elsa agreed, pouring some hot water into a mug and dropping a teabag in. "But it's been very kind to me so far. Still dry, and I get to see you sopping wet? I'm practically spoiled rotten."

She was enjoying this all too much, now.

"Well, see now you're just tempting fate," Barry teased. "But I guess seeing wet clothes all plastered against my fucking physique does have some visual merits."

It was a nice physique. Elsa really wasn't complaining. She wasn't even really trying to hide the fact that she was looking, either.

"A few," she agreed, sliding the mug Barry's way and then pouring one for herself. "And I've been known to tempt fate before. At least with this, my clothes will dry if the island decides to douse me out of spite."

"Oh, really?" Barry said with a small grin as he took the mug of tea and had a sip. "So where have you tempted fate before? Just curious."

"Well, for starters," Elsa mused, letting her own tea steep as she cradled it in her hands, "I came to this place, didn't I?"

That was probably not what he was asking. Elsa was certainly aware of that. But was she going to make it easy for him? Ha!

Barry bobbed his head back in forth a bit as though considering the concept. "Yeah. Coming to a fucking insane school on an island that's an interdimensional nexus. That's a pretty big fucking step," he agreed. "I'll buy that. What else you got?"

A little spark of mischief flickered through Elsa's eyes.

"Then there was this boy who couldn't believe that I'd never been a bed-jumper," she offered, still smiling serenely.

She took a casual sip of tea.

"I apparently sleep on a trampoline every night, as a result."

"He sounds like an asshole," Barry said with a smirk and another sip. "You should have him get your normal bed back."

Seriously. What was with that guy?

"You know, I might even consider it," Elsa noted, and then set down her tea in order to smile Barry's way. "But if I did that, I wouldn't have a trampoline for a bed, would I?"

Oh yes, she definitely jumped on that when she was in her room alone.

"Are you getting a lot of use of that trampoline?" Barry asked over his mug and looking oh-so-amused. "My, oh my. What would people think of you engaging in such childish behavior?"

"I imagine they would think I'd gone mad," Elsa laughed, shaking her head. "It's behavior that's completely unbecoming of a princess, after all. I think perhaps I've managed to meet a boy who happens to be a terrible influence."

See how concerned she was about this.

"Please," Barry said rolling his eyes comically. "Stop. I'm blushing."

He took another sip and tried to pull his wet shirt away from his body a little bit so it wasn't so clingy. "Besides, I'm a fucking awesome influence. Jumping on the bed is nothing. I'm waiting for the day you drop the f-bomb. That's when everyone will lose their shit."

"That word you like so much?" Elsa asked, reaching again for her tea. "Really, Barry. That's never going to happen."

Oh, he could hope for it to happen. He could say it again and again in an attempt to weasel it into her brain. But Elsa was stubborn. She just hid it well.

"Oh. I don't know about that," Barry said still looking amused. "I hear I'm terrible influence. Today it's jumping on the bed. Tomorrow it'll be wearing pants. Day after that? Saying fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

He really is a terrible influence.

"I have no interest in putting on a pair of pants, either," Elsa sniffed. And then made a face. "But I might have to, for Lady Ghanima's class."

Today they'd been scaling a volcano, after all.

"You say that like pants are a bad thing," Barry said with a smirk. "You know that women have been wearing pants for over a hundred years and they wouldn't have done so if they hadn't liked them."

He took a sip of tea. "Is that the terrain class?"

"Well, being from almost two-hundred years ago, I'm clearly not one of those women," Elsa replied, smiling and rolling her eyes toward the ceiling before drinking some more of her tea. "And yes, it is. I'm not completely certain how I ended up enrolled in it, but now that I am, I'm going to try to make the best of it. It's an interesting class so far."

"Probably whatever school person thought we needed a class on sex and dating," Barry said with a scoff. "Well at least you're embracing the terrain class. I guess that's also considered tempting fate."

"Going to class, eating s'mores... Really, it's a wonder all of this risk-taking isn't going to my head," Elsa laughed with a shake of her head. "I'm in a gourmet cooking class this semester, and I have no idea how I'm going to make it through that, though Doctor Lecter certainly seems pleasant enough."

...

What Elsa didn't know wouldn't hurt her, so long as she remained polite.

Barry would probably live longer if he didn't take any of Lecter's classes.

"So you're in a gourmet class and haven't made anything for me yet?" Barry said with a mock sigh. "And after all the fucking s'mores I've made for you. Seriously though, I really think these classes have been good for you in one way or another. Throw in the scary invasions around here I doubt there's anything you can't face she. You get home."

"Maybe," Elsa replied, frowning faintly as she remembered Karla's class yesterday. "I think I could do without the scary invasions part, though."

And she was pretty sure that once she got home, she still wouldn't be able to face Anna.

"As for me cooking for you," she added, forcing a bit of a smile, "that might have to wait until we've managed doing more in class than boiling water. I didn't ruin the pasta I cooked, but considering the fact that we didn't even make any sauce..."

She would happily make more for him if he decided that didn't really matter, though.

Chances are she could serve him shredded cardboard and he'd still eat it and call it good.

"Oh, I bet you're better than you think you are," Barry replied with a wave of dismissal. "Hey, how about you make dinner and I'll make the s'mores?"

Oh, Barry. You had so much faith in the cooking ability of a girl whose specialty was ice.

"You do know that I grew up in a castle? With servants? And haven't had to cook anything in my life before coming here?"

She was making sure.

Hey. There's no way she could be worse than Karla, right?

Right?

"Just keep it simple and I'm sure it will be fine," Barry assured her. "You'll do fine."

Well, Elsa could at least boil water for tea without blowing anything up. So she had that going for her...

"You're going to be so sick of fruit salad at this rate," Elsa laughed, shaking her head. "Fruit salad made entirely of grapes."

So... grapes. Barry would be so sick of grapes.

"Hey. Grapes and s'mores," Barry laughed. "Sounds like a perfect combination. People can totally survive on that."

It's true. Teenagers will eat anything.

"There are... food groups involved. Probably about two?"

The graham crackers were kind of like bread, right? They counted? Elsa had no idea about the chocolate or marshmallows, really, but she was sure chocolate couldn't be that bad.

Maybe.

"Throw in some beef jerky and carrot sticks and we'll have a fucking party," Barry joked. "You think Dr. Lecter will approve?"

"I can actually see his face, disappointed in us, in my mind's eye right now," Elsa shared. "But presumably that's why I'm in his class, learning how to do more than boil water."

Which she really was pretty good at, considering she was an ice elemental.

"Well if dinner flops we can always go out for sushi," pointed out. "Dr. Letter will never have to know."

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The Magic Box, Wednesday

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