newcomb | mingle log | the quad and elsewhere | we were young and drinking (coffee) in the park

Characters: Gansey and whoever shows up
What: Interpersonal interaction! Meet each other face-to-face while nothing is on fire
Where: the quad, unless elsewhere seems cool to you
When: loop 1, day 10 (6/10 irl)
Content Warnings: nothing yet. please use and check thread subjects

It's a pleasant day outside. There's a nice breeze and the sun is doing its best. At very least, it's not raining and warmer than it was yesterday. This is, statistically, likely to bring college denizens out of their dorms and offices since rain seems to often be on Newcomb's horizon. Fall in not-at-all-New England is lovely that way.

Gansey, for his part, can be found throughout the day in several places! He likes hanging out near the clocktower to study, since he's found time works best there (at least for him). It's nice to have a watch that's doing something vaguely akin to timekeeping for once.

But he's an explorer at heart, so he can probably also be found in the library, the computer lab, and wandering the grounds. Gansey isn't sure he's interacted with anyone outside a classroom or on Fermii since the train crash, so he's more likely than usual to strike up conversation instead of waiting for it to come to him.

The real question is this: where's everyone else hanging out today?

[ i'll be throwing gansey at anyone who doesn't note that their tag is closed. please mingle! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Iggy raises his eyebrows.

"...your house had a name? Oh honey, you were rich!"

"My warehouse had a name." As though buying a warehouse to live in during boarding school isn't nearly as ridiculous. "It was an abandoned manufacturing plant, and buying it outright was cheaper than staying in the dorms." So the kind of rich where buying a property is a viable alternative to paying the equivalent of rent. "It had a lot of windows, almost a whole wall of little square panes of glass. We never did figure out what was manufactured at Monmouth."

Iggy stares, then bursts into perfectly silent laughter.

"Oh, I like you! You're weird!" he exclaims with genuine delight.

Iggy gets it, and Gansey's grin is all summer sunlight.

"That's what I'm told." Like the Camaro, Monmouth represented a part of Gansey that feels the most real to Gansey himself and inexplicable to the average onlooker. "Why don't you laugh out loud?"

Iggy shakes his head, grinning. At the question he blinks; nobody has ever asked him that before.

"Oh. I dunno. Habit, I guess."

Not entirely a lie.

"Fair enough." Close enough to a truth that it doesn't seem worth pressing about. "It looks like it would be a nice laugh, that's all. Tell me about your home?" The place Iggy considers home, he means, not just the place he grew up or the place where he was living last.

Iggy smiles and looks down. He is a man used to compliments, but that's not one he's ever heard.

"My home? Oh, gosh. I don't really know what to tell you. It's the pacific northwest, so it rains a lot. If you don't like being wet it's not the place for you."

Prepare for odd compliments, they're part of life with this guy.

"Despite residing on the other coast, I don't mind the pacific northwest weather. It's good hiking country and I'm washable." There is no universe in which Gansey looks like he enjoys the outdoors for more than maintaining his admittedly excellent tan. But he doesn't have the lily-soft hands or perfect fingernails of someone who objects to dirt, and his stupid boat shoes sure aren't just scuffed by carpet and polished floors.

Iggy snorts. "Glad to know you're not dry-clean only," he says.

He glances over at Gansey. "And you're gonna pry all my stories out of me too quickly at this rate! Then I'll lose my mystique and how am I supposed to keep you coming around then, hm?"

"That half of my wardrobe didn't arrive with me." Thank goodness. Newcomb does not need Gansey in bespoke suits even if he's already managed to find himself a sport coat for just-in-cases.

Gansey laughs. "You have more stories than the ones you've given me." He's starting to think Iggy doesn't know how many stories he actually contains. "And they might be the smallest part of your mystique anyway, sunshine."

"Mine neither." A sigh as he mourns the loss of his truly ridiculous wardrobe.

"Well, sure, but most of them are stupid." He has enough self awareness to recognise that, at least.

"Horseshit." But he's smiling.

"I'm sure we can work on it." Gansey can't imagine Iggy as a suit person, which means he's some kind of other person as far as sartorial choices go.

"If you keep talking yourself down I'll have to find a newspaper to roll up and smack you with." And where's he even going to find a newspaper in this time bubble?

"I'm not a liar." Pleased, Gansey grins back.

"God I hope so. I don't want to live forever in one outfit..."

Iggy flaps a hand dismissively. "I'm not! And okay, okay, you're not a liar."

He shakes his head a little, still smiling. "We'll just have to hang out again if you want to learn all my dumb stories."

mingle log | the quad and elsewhere | we were young and drinking (coffee) in the park

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