room 216 ; saturday afternoon

[necroslacker]

Sam's week hadn't really improved after Brannoc's phone call. It hadn't gotten worse but he'd hoped for good news. Brid had called him last night and hadn't given him that. The conversation hadn't been terse, thankfully, but he could tell she was worried which worried him. Something supernatural was attacking locals in Seattle and she hated that she couldn't figure it out. He'd tried to remind her that she wasn't a superhero but she'd said she was and Sam had laughed because he kind of figured she'd say that.

No one had died though and Brid had promised to keep looking. Sam had hung up with her promising to call if things got worse. And he'd actually admitted a fear that maybe Douglas had somehow escaped which she'd tried to reassure him was false.

Currently, Sam was trying to shove dirty laundry into a too small basket and getting more and more frustrated with it as minutes passed. He knew it wasn't the laundry that was causing his stress and frustration but a build up of a few things and his poor clothes were just in the way. He felt like he just kept hitting brick walls in every area of his life. He'd manage to climb over one and hit another and it was just an unending process.

Sam was getting a headache from all the brick walls. And his laundry was just not fitting in the freaking hamper. That was the story of his life, right there.

[Door & post are open, sure]

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[withasword.livejournal.com]

It was his own fault for leaving his door open, really. Kate wandered past, a few seconds went by, and she backed up to look again.

It would appear his perma-calm might be wavering. She was just waiting for the moment he gave into the frustration and punched something.

... Or possibly that was still just her way.

[necroslacker]

She was probably going to be waiting awhile if she wanted to see him punch something. Violence was not something he did...ever. He still felt slightly guilty about the way Douglas went out, after all.

She did get to see him yank an armful of clothes out of his hamper and toss them on the bed. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked over, finally catching sight of her.

"You enjoying the show or something?"

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"I don't know, are you gonna start juggling with all that?" she asked, the hint of a smirk crawling into place.

[necroslacker]

"It won't fit," he said, rolling his eyes and reaching for the clothes again so he could try and figure out a way to get everything into his hamper, "and no. I don't juggle. You want that, you need to buy a ticket to the circus."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"Sounds like more money than I have." So she was going to stick with watching him.

"You try that trick where you get someone to sit on it then shove the lid on really fast?" Kate, the light packer that she was, didn't usually use that method, but she'd seen TV.

[necroslacker]

"It's not that big a deal," he said, tossing the clothes on top of the stuffed full hamper and sighing. "If I have to make two trips, I make two trips. It'll get me out of this room, at least."

He didn't have anything against his room but it felt small and he felt restless. He glanced over at her.

"You that bored that watching me is entertainment or you?"

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"I had some time to kill." It was a weekend, there wasn't a whole lot else going on. "You room is on the way between my room and other places, and you were working on laundry theatre with your door open."

Kate shrugged. "You can't have much else better to do either." Laundry. A thrilling way to get out and about.

[necroslacker]

"Or maybe I'm just a guy and I ran out of clean clothes," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I know you're some diligent launderer of clothes but some of us don't do it every other day for whatever reason. You're oh so disappointed, I know. Dry your eyes, I'll get my laundry done."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"You're really putting 'diligent launderer' on my list of skills?" There was a snicker that accompanied that. She washed, and was pretty good at getting blood out of her shoes, but that description might be going a little far.

"I just don't have that many clothes." Put them all together, and they'd probably still fit in one hamper.

[necroslacker]

"Surprised no one's tried to take you on some shopping spree yet," Sam quipped, glancing over at her. "You say that in the vicinity of certain people and you're doomed to a day at the mall."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"I think people fear the idea of sticking me in a giant room with throngs of the general public." Okay, she wasn't that bad. But she'd rather not spend hours at a mall, and she'd take that reasoning if it saved her from that fate.

"Did someone already try that on you?"

[necroslacker]

"No." Even Brooke had never done that though he wasn't sure Ramon or Frank had escaped. "I don't go to malls if I can help it. Too many people, too many worthless stores, and the smell of grease from the food court makes my stomach turn."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"Come hang out in Atlanta. They don't really exist anymore." In her Atlanta, anyway. That said, all the same things were true of other areas of town.

"Just steer clear of the Grease Trap and I85," Kate felt compelled to add. They represented 'stomach turning amount of grease' and 'too many people', respectively.

[necroslacker]

"Why would I wanna come hang out in Atlanta?" Sam asked, shaking his head. "I've heard it's hot which means people sweat which means people smell which means my sensitive olfactory sense will just be so offended."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"We have heard of bathing down in the sticks, you know." It wasn't that she honestly thought he'd get along with Atlanta (she couldn't imagine many would), but she felt vaguely obligated to defend her home climate.

"And winter is actually cold. If went down there now, I'd probably even wear an extra layer."

[necroslacker]

"Cold's relative," he said, shoving a few t-shirts back into the hamper down the sides. "What's cold to you Georgia folks? About sixty degrees?"

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"We get snow," Kate argued. "That's cold enough to wear a lot of layers. Your Georgia isn't my Georgia, remember?" Magic Sam, wacky weather-fucking magic.

[necroslacker]

"You get snow in Georgia?" Yeah, despite knowing things were different for her, he just couldn't believe it. "I thought hurricanes were the only thing that rolled up into Georgia after they'd already feasted on Florida and all the retired people down there."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, we get those too." Many varieties of extreme and screwy weather. They weren't limited to the one. "You can't really miss them." Flooding and hurricane winds did not get any better in the future.

"Why is it so hard to believe things are just different?"

[necroslacker]

"Did I ever say I didn't believe it?" Sam wondered, slanting a glance over at her. "I don't think so. Just because I believe it doesn't mean I can't ask questions. I bet most everyone believe's the Earth's round but they could still ask questions."

[withasword.livejournal.com]

Kate shrugged mildly and leaned back against his doorframe. "It was the tone." Maybe she misread.

"I guess snow in Atlanta just doesn't seem so weird to me." Most likely, because she'd seen it. "I could probably answer your questions with some mumbo-jumbo magical theory, but you'd be bored to tears."