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You know what to do.

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[ ooc: Trying out an idea for snits and giggles. ]

Edited 2016-08-25 15:06 (UTC)

[ It was rare that he and Tony were in the room at the same time and sometimes a quick comment did not warrant a full on conversation across the MID.

Thus, sticky notes became a thing.

This particular note was left on Tony's shoe, where he'd be sure to see it. ]

If you're done working on the moonshine, how much effort would it be to cobble together a coffee pot for the room?

A

[ It's a couple of hours after leaving said sticky note that Adrien receives any indication of 'message received.' It arrives in the form of a very concise text message. ]

holy shit

[ Why did he never think of this? He's the worst genius to ever live, hands down. ]

[ As it has been a couple of hours, and someone is deep into his work shift, Adrien doesn't immediately connect the text cursing to his note. ]

Please tell me you're not saying this because the Ingress just imploded or something like that?

you ass
if the Ingress imploded i promise you'd be dead

no, this is about how inefficiently we've been pursuing substance abuse this whole time

[ A coffee pot. Somewhere he doesn't have to travel to reach it. ]

Knowing you, you'd be cursing from beyond the grave.

[ It takes him a moment to put this together but only a moment. ]

Exactly! You're a genius, surely putting together a coffee making device that we can hoard in our room is well within your capabilities.

[ Not that either of them needed more coffee. This was entirely a matter of want and convenience. ]

pal, i can build one into the box spring above your bed if you want one
i can give it omnidirectional wheels to follow you everywhere you go making urgent beeping sounds
sky's the limit

here's the bigger problem: coffee grounds

[ Wait. This had the potential to go badly. ]

No. Tony! NO!

Just a coffee pot. Sits on our dresser, brews coffee. That's all it has to do.

[ Pause ... and ... ]

Actually if the carafe could keep the coffee hot and fresh for six or more hours, that would be nice.

it's gonna take you six hours or more to go through a pot?

[ THAT SOUNDS FAKE BUT OK ]

Don't be obscene.

If I make a pot and then one of you assholes gets blown up and I have to save your ass, I want my coffee to be hot when I'm done.

touché

[ He's not even gonna defend himself from that being a very likely possibility. ]

i bet i can make one that's good for a week

[ Can you hear him already doing exhausting amounts of math in his head? Because he is. ]

Not the worst idea you've ever had.

[ It was late shift on the Moira; AKA sleep time.

Name two people who were not sleeping?

Adrien was sitting up in his bunk, a light on just over his shoulder as he worked at one of his word search puzzles. Courser was sitting just across the room watching Tony tinker.

About the fifth time he heard a curse, clatter and the sound of Courser retrieving some bit or bob, the doctor tilted his book down so he could peer over it. ]

I don't think it wants to do whatever it is you're trying to make it do.

[ No, seriously there it was.

Clean and neatly folded atop Tony's bed. Including his sheets and towels.

Not a word. Not one fucking word. ]

[ With the good (clean laundry) comes the mischief.

Such as those times when the tools for Tony's current project are carefully moved two inches away from their original location.

Or if Tony had put his tools away, the bits and pieces of whatever he was working on, are left neatly stacked like some sort of Jenga puzzle. ]

[ As a rule, Adrien didn't let him sleep for longer than four hours at a stretch. Sometimes he'd sleep for four hours, wake himself up for an hour and then go back to sleep but as a rule; no more than four hours.

But some times the exhaustion was just too much and he went past his four hours. These were the nights when the nightmares would inevitably visit.

Mostly they were contained to restless shifing around in the bed and quiet murmuring, perhaps some soft pleading; but occasionally they ended with a shout that inevitably ended when Adrien shot straight up in bed and smacked his head on the bunk above him.

No. No, he didn't want to talk. Just pretend you didn't see that. ]

[ Sometimes when he was sure the room was his own for a bit, Adrien cranked up the music on his MID, particularly if he was just cleaning up the area a little bit.

He didn't have many songs but he had one song that was something of a go too.

Hard to tell how long it took but at some point, he would give in to the quirky beat and begin to dance as he cleaned, singing along with the lyrics.

The good news? He doesn't have a half bad voice for it. ]

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Roomie shit

Sticky note

im starting with this one bc oh my god

COFFEE POT!

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WTF is sleep?

Here's your laundry asshole

He does have a sense of humor?

Nightmares

Dancing