maskormenacelogs |

WHO: Lisa Snart & her new roomies
WHERE: Heropa #020
WHEN: Throughout the month of September, from her arrival onward
WHAT: Whatever sorts of shenanigans might befall
WARNINGS: None yet?.....?

For supposedly being a full house, Lisa hasn't seen much of her new housemates, other than her brother. She's been given a bit of a heads up regarding alternate worlds, blah blah, ~~don't flirt with Mick,~~ whatever... But it's nice to have somewhere to call home maybe a little more long-term than usual. She's not sold on going legit, but the perks haven't hurt, so far.

She's admittedly not much of a homebody herself, but she'll be there most nights, showering most mornings, and probably leaving her things all over the house because hell, she lives here.

It's inevitable that someone runs into her in the hallway in some state of undress on her way to or from the shower, wandering around the kitchen in her ice skates (with the guards on, don't worry), or possibly taking up the entire sofa while watching a Fast & Furious marathon.

Whichever way you slice it, there's a girl in the Roguehaus now, and that's bound to be a little awkward even before you factor in everything else.

{ooc: not a roomie but want to run into Lisa at home? Bring it on, pm me or find me at

Isonen to hash something out, I'm open, and I only bite on request. ♥}

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"If you say so," but she laughs, shakes her head, looks back out the window at all that Florida heat and humidity. This was going to be murder on her hair.

Priorities.

She groans at his assessment, looks back at him with something like pleading for understanding. "When have I ever been good with kids, Lenny? Trade you? You're the better skater," she knows it's a lost cause and a lot of flattery, but she tries it, all the same. Also who knows, jobs might be tradeable here. She's never had an actual job.

"You could shave it," he offers, obviously teasing, in response to apparently reading her thoughts. He gets his hair from his mother, the most obviously black thing about him, but the reason he keeps it shaved is that little curls look adorable on him and that doesn't go well with his image.

Her plea makes him smirk, which might not be the reaction she's going for. "Nah, sorry. I got my plate full." Which he might eventually share with her, but right now he doesn't have anything concrete in the works. "You met any of our roommates yet?"

She makes the most disgusted sound in response to his suggestion, but doesn't comment further, other than maybe a glare to emphasize exactly how likely that is. Not helpful.

Of course his plate is full, when is he not planning something? Her eyebrows raise, the closest she'll get to actually asking about it. Lenny's always kept his plans close, she knows better than to try to pry too much. He'll tell her when and if he wants to. Maybe even let her help. She can wait.

"So, other people do live here?"

"Yeah." Where does he even start with that? He glances towards the door, which is closed - as almost always. He doesn't welcome his roommates into his room, not that they seem very eager to come in anyway. "Gonna sound a bit weird for a minute there, sis, but keep an open mind. The guys we're rooming with, they're from alternate universes. So somewhat familiar, but different."

Lifting a hand, he counts them off on his fingers. "There's James Jesse, but he ain't like the psycho from back home. He's harmless by comparison. Annoying, but even a good guy these days. All of our roommates are. Reformed." He lifts another finger as he continues. "Hartley Rathaway. Not sure if you've ever heard of him back home, used to be heir to the Rathaway family, before they disowned him for being gay. Never met him, just came across him in research. The one here is nice enough. Idealist, socialist, very philanthropic. Nice hair."

Finally, the third finger. Last but not least. "Mick's here. Not our. A different one."

Apparently that's all he intends to say on that particular subject without prompting.

"Reformed," she states, almost chewing on it a moment while she listens.

Of all the people she would have expected more information on, her money would have been on Mick. It tells her maybe a little too much that he's not only last on the list, but that Lenny tells her pretty much nothing. She remembered James Jesse, that guy was a goddamn piece of work. Rathaway was only ringing bells because of his family, she was pretty sure.

Thieves tended to know the names of the generally wealthy.

But Mick... but not Mick? Ouch.

"Not ours, huh?" she starts, and she's watching him very carefully, now, making her way back over to the bed, taking a seat again. She tries for a smile, manages a smirk.

"What do I need to look out for?" because either it's a problem or a problem, and she needs to know which.

"With those three?" He pauses, actually considering, then just offers a shrug. "Don't joke about wanting to play Monopoly with Rathaway. He goes by Piper, by the way. Pied Piper." Is there any actual danger coming from any of them? Len looks at his sister, wondering just how any of this would affect her. He's not an expert on emotions, not exactly his forte.

"Mostly harmless. Mick is... sweet." Adorable, really. So different and still Mick somehow, with undeniable similarities, even putting the pyromania aside. "They couldn't get over how I look for a long time, so that might be a thing with you too."

"Who jokes about Monopoly?" probably Lisa now, just to see what exactly he means by that. Her own emotions aren't exactly her concern. Especially when Lenny actually does keep talking about Mick. She'd always known how Len felt about him, even if maybe her brother wasn't the best at actually expressing himself. He wasn't particularly subtle. Or maybe she was just used to reading between the lies.

"Sweet?" Mick had never been sweet. Oh, she can't wait to meet him, now.

"What's wrong with how you look?" she asks, her confusion exaggerated but not for show. She wraps a strand of hair around her finger, releases it. If someone has a problem with the way she looks, it'll be an absolute pleasure dealing with that.

"You'll see." Honestly, Len even considers the Mick they both are familiar with to be sweet sometimes. Sweeter than he is with ease, not that there's much of a contest there. But in case of the Mick here, it's just an undeniable fact.

As for what was wrong with his looks? Leonard smirks, because what else can he really do? "Too good-looking."

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