Intermediate Library Science

[theworst]

[So Jeff and Britta are in a library, in a study room, with books spread across the table. It's oddly nostalgic, except there are five other people missing. Britta's face is scrunched up as she reads over one trying to find something in there to quiz Jeff about to help him in his studying]

How many laws do you really need to know to be a lawyer? Can't you just sing Witchy Woman and win the jury over or whatever it is that you do?

[they seriously need Annie, because this thing called studying is hard]

Comments

[bedheaded]

You're right. I'm ashamed that I'm not hip enough to have lived in the Big Apple.

[theworst]

Don't feel too bad, you're far hipper. Just look at that phone of yours, because that's clearly a statement about something.

[bedheaded]

That I don't cut myself off from the world in an effort to make a statement? Yes, I'm afraid it does.

[theworst]

Pssh, like I care enough about what anyone thinks about me to try to make some stupid statement.

[bedheaded]

You mean you won't start a rant about animal cruelty every time I want to eat sushi for dinner? This place has really changed you.

[theworst]

I don't care about what you think, I still care about the welfare of that tuna.

[bedheaded]

Noble. But I wasn't completely kidding about going out to eat. I can't study this long, it feels unnatural. Usually someone's done something to by now. [Gotten us involved in a paintball war, decided to go out to a bar, had a giant dispute...] We should eat now and study more later.

[theworst]

You might actually be right. All these ways of manipulating the masses through publicly legislated means are starting to blur together for me.
[she gets her coat and actually manages to put it on this time and grabs her bag, too]

[bedheaded]

It's not the masses, Britta. It's just twelve of your peers. [He pils up the books and walks with Britta out the doors.] I'd ask you where we should eat, but I don't want to go to the Victorian equivalent of a hipster cafe.

[theworst]

Oh, is that all. My bad. [she adds a couple more books to Jeff's pile for him to carry] Well I'm not letting you pick either, or we'll end up at some douchey poseur bar.

[bedheaded]

[And he is getting the books all checked out and see if he ever offers to carry anything for her ever again.] Then we can just walk around downtown until we find something that offends each of us the least. After dropping these books off at the apartment. I'm not taking A History of English Law to lunch.

[theworst]

I guess that sounds fair. [nope, she will forever try to make you carry things for her just because]

[as they walk out she seems to have just remembered something] Oh! Oh! I'm glad you wanted to stop by the apartment first. I have to make sure to give Susie B. her medicine every two hours. That, and I think Thomas is getting new sibling rivalry, so I'll have to check on him, too.

[bedheaded]

Susie--Britta, where do you get your names for your cats from? Is that supposed to be for the suffragette?

[theworst]

[she pauses and then makes her attempt at a poker face] Yes, yes it is. It fits her. Anyway, like you could come up with anything better.

[bedheaded]

Then who is Thomas named for?

[theworst]

[pulling things out of her ass now] Thoomassss Eeeeeedison.

[bedheaded]

Really? Because I thought that if you were going to name a cat after any inventor, it would be Telsa. Edison seems a little too mainstream for you.

[theworst]

Really Jeff? Only hipsters like Tesla. Edison is so mainstream he's underground. Duh-doy.

[bedheaded]

Well I'll give you credit for one thing: sometimes, you really will stick to a lie.

[theworst]

I have no idea what you're talking about. [and she quickens her pace as they finish checking out of the library and head back home]

[bedheaded]

[Jeff drops the pile of books off in a corner.] Oh, monsters, your mom is home.

[theworst]

[And Britta makes a beeline for her cats. The tentacled one doesn't seem to mind Jeff, but the non-mutant one doesn't seem to like him at all as she hisses in Jeff's direction as Britta picks her up to cuddle her before taking her to give her medicine]

[baby voice] You're not a monster. No you're not, oh no you're not.

[and Britta medicates and cuddles her cats for a few minutes before getting back up to go back out for foodstuff]

[bedheaded]

[He grabs his jacket and throws it on.] Tentacles, keep an eye on the new one for me. I don't trust it.

[He throws an arm around Britta's shoulder.] So what were you thinking? I was thinking chicken salad. There might be insanity in the water, but at least it isn't mercury.

[theworst]

She's not 'it.' Maybe if you stopped calling her 'it' she might warm up to you.

[rolling her eyes, but there is some small comfort in that arm there, even if she won't admit it] Yeah, sure, if I want to be a party to the cruel slaughter of poor innocent animals.

[bedheaded]

So you can have a salad salad. Will that be enough?