sortinghat_logs | Smart boys don't mess around

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Smart boys don't mess around

WHO: Herbert West, Sherlock Holmes, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner
TONE: Playful, goofy
RATING: PG-13ish, for possible language
WHEN: The evening of November 27
WHERE: Ravenclaw 6th year boy's dorm
WHAT: Shenanigans!

Herbert really had a love-hate relationship with his roommates - he loved some of them and hated some others. Well, really he quite liked Bruce, thought Sherlock was interesting but occasionally insufferable, and hated Tony. It meant he preferred it when they weren't all together in the same room, because Bruce was always mooning after Tony, and Sherlock liked to show off, the more people there were around, and he just wanted to get some bloody homework done!

"I don't suppose anyone would like to possibly shut up," he asked the room at large disparagingly, "Since it's a bit late for me to go to the library and escape all your rubbish?"

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Sherlock continued to scowl. He wasn't being a prat, his hair wasn't a perm, and he didn't start the pissing contest. Just for all that, he was going to stay up all night on principle and leave the mother hen to his roost.

"It's actually more a chemistry experiment than a potions one. Trying out some cross-studies applications. Rather difficult to find a stable alkaline from available components but--" Sherlock poured the two liquids in steady but BOOM with a sudden puff of smoke there was green goo shooting off out of the cauldron. Ceiling, walls, his bed, several outlaying areas, all speckled in plops of a thick, viscous substance that, while volatile in the cauldron, seems just a slimy mess everywhere else.

Sherlock put the empty viles down and pulled off his marigolds. "...might have had the heat on too high..."

"Have you tried-" Herbert started, trying to ignore Stark on Bruce's bed, but he was interrupted by the explosion. He ducked behind his curtain, waited a few moments, then peered out again at the mess Sherlock had made. He snickered, hiding his mouth with his hand. "I guess you really aren't sleeping tonight unless you use someone else's bed. Brilliant, Holmes."

"Sleeping Draught? Now that's just kinky. And I can't. There's bit of car on it, and homework."

As the cauldron explodes, Tony sits up and looks surprised at first, but grins at Sherlock soon enough. even though he's flicking some of the goo off his trousers, not realising some is in his hair.

"For Christmas, I'm getting you a shirt. You'll really like it. It has 'stand back, I'm doing science' on it."

He looks around the room to take in the mess that's been made then looks at his bed.

"Oh yeah, you are so cleaning this all up before you do anything else. And there better not be any of that science-gasm on my camshaft, or I'm keeping Victor."

He points a finger at Sherlock with an over dramatic look. It's annoying, getting slime out of his engine parts has been what he's been doing all semester. He just doesn't want to do it again.

Bruce had just managed to duck behind his bed drapes to avoid getting hit in the face with a load of slime. "Damn it Sherlock!" he yelled, running a hand over his face and taking a deep breath to make the green fade from his eyes at the instance of panic he'd felt with the explosion.

“Shut it, Banner. I have half a mind to blame you.” He shifted his goggles up high on his head, surveying the spread of the goo. “House elves will clean it up later. It really wouldn’t do for me to do their jobs.”

He stooped to pick up a few bits and throw them on his bed to be collected and cleaned all the same, dropping his cauldron in the middle of the pile to be scrubbed before turning a quick wand on the more encroaching areas outside the vicinity of his own bed.

"It looks like it got a big glob right in the important bits," Herbert said gleefully, peering at Tony's bed. "Nice one, Holmes. It that caustic? Please say it is."

He pulled back his curtains, stretching out on his bed with his book and luxuriating in the nice, clean blankets. He did glance over at Bruce though, watching what bits he could see of him from behind the curtain, wondering if he was all right.

"It's what?!"

Tony shuffles off the bed, and goes over to his own to inspect the engine.

"Aw, come on. You. I just..."

He wipes some of the goo off and flicks it at Sherlock.

"I've been cleaning this all term. I demand Victor as recompense."

And with that, he starts to stride over to where the skull was kept, with every intention of taking it.

"How is this my fault?" Bruce snapped, throwing his drapes back to glare at Sherlock, eyes back to their normal slate grey. "Unless you're suggesting it's my fault for not having given you detention for every time you had an experiment going in the dorms when you know you're not meant to be doing them in the dorms?"

"Well, maybe if someone wasn't lazing about, acting like lord prat, I wouldn't have left the burner on high." Sherlock shot Bruce a scowl as he moved over to Tony's bed to survey the damage.

"It's not caustic, it's not even water based, it's fine. Look." Sherlock took the end of his robe and scooped a blob of it off Tony's parts. "Just think of it as an oil based lubricant. The parts could actually benefit from this little mishap." He hoped.

"Maybe you shouldn't have taken all term to clean it," Herbert said to Tony, smirking, and added to Sherlock, "And you blow loads of stuff up no matter who's around, don't be an idiot. What was that meant to do, anyway?"

"Yeah, because who wants a clean camshaft in a car they're building that would just be ridiculous."

He rolls his eyes at Herbert, then wipes his hand along the machine and flicks it at him.

"Here, because you need a lube job more than my engine does."

"Tony don't be crass," he muttered, throwing a pillow at him. "Sherlock, I always lie around like 'lord prat', that's never affected how high or low you keep the burner. Can you clean this mess up or do we need to ask the House Elves for a favor?"

Sherlock scowled but deflated in his indignity a bit. “It was meant to be a sterile base for growing bacterial cultures.” He produced a rag to see to Tony’s engine parts, sort of eyeing it as to what the hell the bits and pieces were meant to be and in what way they were okay to be rubbed. “It’d hardly be asking the house elves a favor when it’s their job in the first place.”

"Yeah, and who takes that long to clean-" Herbert retorted to Tony, then squawked as green goo splattered on his cheek and partially into his open mouth. He immediately started sputtering and spitting to get it out, rubbing at his tongue with the back of his hand and wrist, and glaring at the other boy.

"Sterile bases for bacterial culturing already exist," he said icily to Sherlock, then retreated into his bed again, pulling the curtains shut as haughtily and violently as he possibly could. Seeing as they were made of cloth, however, it hardly made for much of a dramatic gesture.

Tony laughs at Herbert's reaction as he catches the pillow thrown at him. Seemingly unbothered by Sherlock inspecting the engine part while he wipes at it.

"Hey, Punxsutawney Phil. Let me know if you see your shadow when you come out, okay?"

He hugs the pillow to his chest, as he comes back to Bruce's bed flopping on it and him, then looks up at him.

"Shirley Temple's right. It is their job to clean up our messes. They're the only reason my bed is ever made on the odd occasion I sleep in it"

Hearing Herbert start sputtering, Bruce poked his head out from his drapes and peered at the other boy's bed. "Herbert? You okay?"

He rolled his eyes at Tony and Sherlock though for their arrogance. "It might be their job to clean up our messes but some messes you should learn to clean up yourself," he grumbled, staring at Tony. "Why are you in my bed anyway? Go to your own and go to sleep, jeez."

"I did the engine bits. And yes, of course the substance exists, West. But I can't exactly order a muggle item to be delivered to Hogwarts now can I?"

Sherlock sits at the corner of his own bed, looking at where there is still a bit of a mess. It's sterile at least. But now he has nothing to work on and no where to sleep. Wonderful.

"PISS OFF, STARK," Herbert yelled from behind his curtain, and then stubbornly refused to answer Bruce - he associated with a known wanker, after all. God, he hated other people. Why did other people who aren't experimental subjects have to exist?

"And you could bring it with you," he added to Sherlock, sullenly. "Or ask me."

Tony can't help but be uniquely amused by Herbert shouting at him, but decides not to antagonise him more. Getting comfortable where he lies on the bed.

"I can't go to my own, there's an engine and Sherlock's 'secret sauce' all over it. Adopt me for the night."

He grins at him.

"I'm really a bargain, you don't even have to pay a dollar a day."

He tilts his head up to give Sherlock a look.

"When you say you've 'did the engine bits' you mean made sure there isn't anything left that could rust it. Lubricant or not, it could still react negatively with the alloys."

"No, go clean the engine off your bed," he answered with a huff, crawling out of bed and approaching Herbert's, careful to avoid the Sherlock Secret Sauce™ on the floor.

"Herbert, you okay?" he asked as he poked his head past the drapes, giving the reclusive boy a concerned look.

Sherlock gave the engine a cursory look. He didn't see any more green goo on it so he supposed it was fine. "Didn't think anyone would want to supply me with the stuff if by extension it meant I planned to cultivate bacteria under our beds."

Our beds because realistically he'd need to branch out to really cover all the tests he wanted to.

He went about pulling off his gooey clothes instead, finding some pajamas to dress into before sitting on the corner of Bruce's bed to sort goo from his bangs.

The smaller boy was still rubbing at his mouth - whatever Sherlock had made was annoying hard to get off, like oil or something, and tasted terrible. He had his glasses off since they'd been partially spattered, too, but he glared at Bruce as he opened the curtain, clearly in a snit.

"Go away, Banner," he muttered. "I think you've got a mate looking to spend the night all snuggled up to you. Maybe Sherlock can join you two, make it a regular bloody party."

Tony sulks as Bruce tries to dismiss him. However he doesn't move from the bed.

"You're acting like I don't wake up in your bed all the time."

He starts to get comfortable in the bed, when he can't help but bristle on hearing Herbert muttering. He didn't hear what was said so clearly as he heard the tone.

"Hey, he's just trying to give a damn about your feelings. Least you could do is not be an ass to him."

Luckily for Herbert, Bruce was rather used to his prickly behaviour after 6 years of sharing dorms, so he simply leaned over, examined the boy's face and specifically the green stuff that refused to come off, before slipping back out to go through his things to find one of the potions he'd brewed to get rid of tough stains (he'd had to come up with it fairly early on thanks to Tony's habit of covering him and his things in motor oil).

"Tony, everyone's usually an ass to me, I'm used to it," he commented with a roll of his eyes, smiling wryly as he poured some of the colourless, odourless liquid onto two towels, passing one to Sherlock. "That might get it off, I'm not sure but it won't hurt to try?"

He returned to Herbert's bed and offered the second towel to the smaller boy. "Try rubbing that gently, it might help get it off."

Sherlock perked up and took the towel. Yes, that would certainly be worth the try.

Not that he thanked him.

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